#can you blame a man for wanting to be ravished is my question

[tiredfox64]

Hello!! I love your fics and have a small request!

Is there any way you could do a pt.2 to "Thick thighs can save lives" and make it nsfw? I loved that fanfic sm when I originally read it! I love chubby reader stuff. I'm chubby myself soo!! Eee!!

I loved your fics sm. Keep up the good work!!

Thick Thighs Call for Good Times

Prior notes: Y E S! We big girls need our lovin. I went too crazy I think because Bi-Han got me all hot and bothered. I blame ███████ for my addiction to him.

Pairing: Bi-Han x Chubby! Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: NSFW, Overstimulation, creampies, oral sex (fem receive), we ride…Bi-Han…rhymes with dawn if you say it a certain way

You never left the Lin Kuei. You never left Bi-Han. Bi-Han was never letting you go. That’s just how the cookie crumbles.

It was clear to Liu Kang that he wasn’t getting his apprentice fully back. So a compromise was made. You stayed with Bi-Han and Liu Kang would come to you to actually train you since Bi-Han wasn’t letting you train with anyone else. As long as you stay near him he’s fine with this arrangement.

The Lin Kuei treated you much better than when you first arrived. That might be because it’s clear that a relationship was established, at least in Bi-Han’s perspective. You followed his lead and figured he wanted a relationship. It would be awkward if he didn’t want a relationship while he’s constantly trying to cuddle you and give you a little smoochy smooch.

The clinginess didn’t get better. That man had his hands all over you, squishing and squeezing anywhere he could. On a calm day he would only be squishing your stomach as you guys would lie down or if he had you in his lap. The frisky days, as you called them, were much more risqué. Chest, thighs, ass, if he could grab it he would.

The first time he ever grabbed your breasts it was a mind blowing experience. He was tempted by you. You were wearing a tank top after training for a bit. Of course no tank top could ever handle the size of your chest but you couldn’t care, you were hot. Bi-Han saw how your breasts would jiggle with every step. He came up behind you and gave you a hug which you gladly accepted, appreciating his cold skin against your burning skin. Then his hands grabbed at your chest. It wasn’t harsh but it definitely wasn’t a gentle grab. He wanted you to know what he wanted.

“Really?! You’re not gonna say anything to me? Just grab my tits like that?” You questioned Bi-Han but he didn’t care.

You’re not pushing him away so it’s fine. You did expect him to do it one of these days. That day was the day.

“They are nice. They fit so perfectly in my hands.” He looked very intently at his fingers as they squeezed down on your breasts.

He liked the way they bounced back. He liked how they felt in his hands and how they had weight to them.

He wanted a better feel and tried to slip his hands under your tank top before you slapped them away. He was ready to ravish you on a Tuesday afternoon, the sun was still out! He needed to learn some patience. Cause you sure as hell ain’t doing anything in his office when someone could easily walk in.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Day after day he was trying to grab you in other places. It was difficult to have time to yourself. He even tried following you into the bathing area which you had to physically throw him out. We love a strong woman.

Oh and forget getting out of bed. No, he kept you close to his chest with one arm around your waist and a hand at your breasts.

None of these instances ever led to anything more. You would put a stop to it for multiple reasons. You were too tired, you need to wash up, you’re on your period, you weren’t even in bed. Bi-Han respected your rejection but that didn’t mean he wasn’t getting sexually frustrated. He can’t keep using his hands when he has you right in his grasp.

Truth be told you were still a little insecure about your looks. Clearly Bi-Han loves your body but that nagging voice inside your head says he won’t like you anymore once he sees you naked. You still wanted to hide your lovely rolls and stretch marks from him.

You do realize Bi-Han can handle it, right? Don’t doubt him.

You didn’t like this nagging voice. It’s preventing you from being yourself and expressing some wonderful things. You do want to have sex with Bi-Han. It’s a desire you must fulfill but one that will only happen once you start giving some love to yourself. So what better way to feel better about your body than looking pretty.

On a day when you weren’t training you decided to dress all pretty. A cute skirt with some knee high socks and a long sleeve v-cut shirt. Ooh girl, don’t you look all cute. You better work it! But only work it for Bi-Han, no one else.

You went around looking for Bi-Han, catching the attention of a few clansmen. When you found him he was watching over his clan as they trained. You wrapped your arms around his arm to get his attention. Bi-Han was gonna give you just a glance before he snapped his neck back to look at you. Your chest was squishing against his arm with the shirt showing your cleavage. When he looked down further he could see that you were showing some skin since you were wearing a skirt. Damn you look so adorable to him…and fuckable.

He didn’t say a word to anyone. He just grabbed you and threw you over his shoulders while making his way to the bedroom. You got used to him doing that but you weren’t used to the speed he was going at. He was practically pushing people out of the way before going into the bedroom. He locked the door and threw you on the bed gently. You weren’t all that surprised he did that but what surprised you was how he towered over you and what he had to say.

“Is this what you were planning? You were planning to get my attention by wearing that outfit. Bet you were hoping I would take you right then and there in front of everyone.”

Oh that’s not—no, that’s not what you were planning…

“What?! No! That’s not at all what I was planning-“ you were cut off when you hear the sound of cloth ripping.

Bi-Han tore your underwear off. The air hit your already wet pussy. His arms hooked onto your thighs before he yanked you closer to the edge of the bed where he was now kneeling. His lips practically grazed your clit. Next thing you know his tongue took a long drag up before swirling around your clit. You immediately gasped and your instinct was to close your legs.

Your thighs started to squeeze Bi-Han’s head. That was incredibly to him. Feeling those soft yet strong legs of yours squeezing him, possibly even suffocating him. Suffocation won’t make him stop eating you out. In fact, it makes it even better.

He would push his tongue inside you as his nose would bump into your clit. The taste of you would hit his tongue, causing him to want more and more. Occasionally his tongue would slip out and circle your clit as if it were candy to him. And you’re just supposed to stay there and look all pretty for him as you moan. Don’t think about pushing his head away he will not budge. He’s not done getting a taste of you and preparing you for more to come.

You didn’t realize how long it’s been since you satisfied yourself in any way. Ever since you came to the Lin Kuei you haven’t had the chance to masturbate. Meaning you were already so sensitive when he started going down on you. He could tell since you are already struggling to hold your moans in. He could feel your pussy clench around his tongue, letting him know you were about to cum. His tongue went back to your clit where he licked it continuously. It was his goal to make you cum and get more of your taste. He achieved his goal quickly.

You couldn’t hold back your moans. They weren’t loud but could easily be heard if someone were to pass by the bedroom door. Your thighs tightened around his head as if you were worried he would pull away if you didn’t keep him in place. That orgasm high was glorious. Wow, you feel amazing.

Bi-Han let go of your legs before standing up again. You watched as he licked his lips to collect the rest of your juices.

“Take your clothes off…now.” He demanded.

Oh you didn’t think that was the end right?

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

He wanted you to be all sensitive and ready for him. Bi-Han has been waiting for this moment for way too long.

Your clothes were now on the ground and so was his. He didn’t even give you time to take off your knee high socks before he grabbed you and forced you on your stomach.

Bi-Han had a nice grip on your love handles. That’s what he loves about a body like yours. You are built to be loved and to make love. He held your lower half up while your face was down in the sheets. Your hands were gripping the sheets tightly as he slammed into you.

You didn’t see how big his cock was but you could definitely feel it. So thick and surprisingly the only warm part of his body. Or maybe that was your pussy warming it up, you can’t tell with the only thing in your mind being the pleasure that was pulsating through you. You didn’t even realize you were crying from the overstimulation.

Bi-Han could say the same about you. Your pussy was so warm and it squeeze him so nicely. He felt like you were made to be fucked by him. It just feels right.

The view he was getting was fantastic too. Watching his cock go in and out with your wetness coating it. Every time he thrusted into you he would watch your ass jiggle. And when you turned your head to the side he could see how your tears stained your cheeks. You looked so pretty like that. He leaned his body forward till his chest was pressed against your back.

“What’s the matter? Can’t handle being loved by your grandmaster. I thought you were a strong woman.“ Bi-Han teased you.

You wanted to say something back but you couldn’t make out anything. You needed to catch your breath but it felt like there was no break in his stride. Just that constant rough rhythm. It only became worse, or more like pleasurable, when Bi-Han placed his leg up on the bed. When he thrusted back in, you moaned loudly. This new angle allowed him to go deeper into you. Not just that but he was stretching you out more.

You were a crying, drooling, moaning mess below him. His cock slammed deep into you. You were done for. The overstimulated combined with the deeper penetration made you cum all over his cock. You shook and your hands gripped the sheets so tightly that your knuckles became pale. The moans you let out were definitely heard by everyone.

Luckily for you, Bi-Han was just as close as you were. He fucked you through your orgasm before his hit. Your love handles were definitely getting bruised because he was squeezing them harshly while he was cumming inside you. You felt a warmness that filled you. It will be a feeling you will never forget.

You two stayed in that position for a few moments as you caught your breath. You were all hot and you felt disheveled. Bi-Han pulled out, making you whimper from feeling somewhat empty now. He got onto the bed and laid down in his usual spot on the bed. And then he grabbed you!

You thought this was over? Hah! Not for that man!

He grabbed you and made you sit on top of him. You were confused on what he was doing. At this point you should be cuddled to sleep. But he looked up at you and commanded you to do something else.

“Ride me. Make me cum one more time then we will be done.”

You got nervous. Not that you were afraid to do this all over again but that he would be seeing the front of your body. You tried to cover your body with your arms.

“Are you sure you want me to ride you? Maybe you could fuck me from-“

“I want to watch you ride me. I want to see my beautiful woman please me.”

Bi-Han was dead serious. He wanted to watch you not just to see how you reacted to being overstimulated but to see your body as a whole. This was the first time he was truly seen you naked. He wanted to see those gorgeous, round breasts. He wanted to see that cute tummy of yours. He wants to hold those powerful, thick thighs. He wanted it all. He wants you.

Hearing him call you beautiful and hearing how serious he was made your stomach do a flip. You lowered your arms, exposing yourself to him. You did as he wanted. You lifted yourself up a little, angled his hard cock near your hole, then slowly slid down on it.

You both let out a satisfied sigh. You might like this position a lot. It feels like he is really deep inside you. You don’t know if you could keep yourself going but you try.

You start bouncing up and down on his cock, hearing the mixture of your wetness and his cum making sounds every time you move. Bi-Han’s eyes looked at how your body jiggled whenever you slid back down. Your breasts bounced a lot. They called to him and his hands traced up your body till they got to your breasts. He squeezed and played with them. He pinched your nipples lightly and heard your reaction to that. Everything he did you had a clear reaction to.

Tears formed in your eye once again as the pleasure became too much. You were looking down at Bi-Han with half-lidded, glossy looking eyes. They were so beautiful to him. He could get lost in them. But for now his mind was lost to the feeling of your pussy squeezing him constantly. He saw that you were getting sluggish with your movements. He can’t blame you, this was a lot for you to handle. He pulled you close to him. Your chest was pressed against his. He looked into yours eyes and said,

“I’ll take care of this. Just relax and kiss me.”

You listened and started to kiss him. His arms wrapped around your waist and he held you tightly. His hips started thirsting into you. You moaned against his lips while he groaned. Your tears slipped down your cheeks as the pleasure came to a peak once again.

You moaned out loud as you came again. You didn’t try kissing him to keep yourself quiet. You felt like you had no control over your actions in this moment. A few more thrusts and Bi-Han came inside you once again. You must have been filled to the brim with his cum at this point.

Once the high started to dissipate you were left lying on top of him. He held you in his arms and his cock grew soft inside you. His hands were rubbing your back and running through your hair. You could have passed out in that moment if he didn’t start talking again.

“You seemed to like that a lot. I can’t understand why you were so hesitant before.”

“I was worried you wouldn’t like my body.” You responded in a sleepy voice.

“That is idiotic of you to think.” And that was rude of you to say, Bi-Han.

“You are beautiful in many ways. I was a fool to think you were weak before. You are strong and that is what I like in a woman. You are not only strong but gorgeous with a perfect body to love. I would not want to share my affection with anyone else.” He whispered to you.

You were surprised, truth be told. Bi-Han’s words sounded genuine. Your heart warmed up to the fact that he really did love you and your body. Now you felt silly for being worried before.

“You are the only woman I need now. You are my type. Now rest, you must be exhausted.”

Bi-Han placed a kiss on your forehead as his thumb wiped away any stray tears that were still on your cheek. You started to fall asleep with a light smile on your face. This was a wonderful experience for you and Bi-Han. Now you get to rest in his loving and strong arms.

Sweet dreams, gorgeous. Remember your worth.

After notes: My bestie sent me this, this is so me fr fr. Felt like it fits in.

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Congratulations on hitting 3k!!! 🙌🏻🙌🏻

So, as much as I initially thought this would fit Spencer x Reader.... I would love to request a RALVEZ angsty (little fluff) fic to these lyrics please?!

🎵 Can we forget about the things I said when I was drunk? I didn’t mean to call you that. I can’t remember what was said or what you threw at me, please tell me - My Own Worst Enemy by Lit

Thank you for giving me an excuse to write Ralvez! I love you and I loved writing this. I realise after I wrote this the fluff is non existent. Sorry I tried but the angst took over. Ambiguous ending- you can decide if you think they made it through this or not. Italics are flashbacks to their fight.

My Own Worst Enemy

Spencer Reid x Luke Alvez

Summary - Spencer’s insecurities have always been a hurdle for Luke to overcome. And then the younger man gets drunk and a fight ensues, one they may never come back from.

CW - super angst, not necessarily a happy ending, depends on how you want to look at it, Spencer is very insecure, bisexual Luke, jealous Spencer, drunk Spencer, fighting, arguing, swearing, very brief mention of past drug addiction, Spencer calls Luke a “whore”.

WC - 2.6k

Luke Alvez was well aware that his boyfriends insecurities ran deep to the bone. As hard as Spencer tried to come across otherwise, he was incredibly self conscious in just about every aspect of his life. 

Due to his lack of confidence, it wasn’t unheard of for Spencer to get jealous. He’d never felt worthy of Luke’s love and affection and it showed through his envy when any person Spencer deemed to be attractive spoke to Luke. 

To his credit, he was good at hiding it. But Luke knew Spencer well enough to see it in the smallest gestures. It was the way his jaw set, the way his hands clenched into fists at his sides. It was how his perpetual lip chewing got even more frantic and he stuttered more than usual. 

It didn’t help matters that Luke was attracted to both men and women. In Spencer’s mind that left double the amount of people that Luke could leave him for. 

Spencer’s insecurities were always worse when it came to a pretty woman talking to his boyfriend. He didn’t blame them, Luke was utterly ravishing, charming and drop dead gorgeous. But Spencer’s anxiety when it came to Luke was always heightened by women.

Sometimes Luke wished he hadn’t told Spencer that before he’d met him he had categorically only dated women. Spencer wasn’t the first guy he’d been with but he was the first man Luke had a serious relationship with. 

In Spencer’s mind, it was only a matter of time before Luke broke up with him for a woman. If Luke had a dime for every time Spencer said as much, he would be a very rich man. 

But he endured Spencer’s self doubt because he loved him. Luke loved Spencer like he’d never loved another human being before he just wished Spencer would see that. 

Luke had gotten used to it by now, he thought he had a handle on things. But that was before Garcia’s leaving party. 

Luke had never witnessed his boyfriend drinking before. He knew all about Spencer’s history with dilaudid and how the younger man didn’t tend to consume alcohol because of it. 

But upon arrival at Rossi’s when the old man had poured Luke a glass of champagne and offered Spencer a water, Spencer shook his head and opted for the sparkling alcohol instead. 

Luke and Rossi exchanged a slightly concerned look but Luke thought better of questioning it. Spencer was a grown man and Luke trusted that if Spencer thought he could handle a drink then he could. 

Only it wasn’t just a drink. 

Spencer managed to hide his consumption from Luke for the most part, never quite finishing a drink and simply topping up his glass when his partner wasn’t looking. 

Spencer was not a drinker. It had been several years since he’d made the decision to give up alcohol and even before he had, he’d never been drunk to excess. 

So it was no surprise at all that after only three glasses of champagne he felt wobbly on his feet. His brain started to grow hazy and his eyes blurred even if only slightly. 

But that didn’t stop him from having a fourth. 

And ultimately he wouldn’t remember most of the night after Emily’s speech, which was a strange feeling for Spencer who remembered everything. 

When he woke up the following morning he found himself on top of the sheets, fully dressed and even had his shoes on still. 

His head was pounding and his mouth was so dry it felt like his tongue was made of sandpaper. 

But the worst part? The bed he usually shared with Luke was empty on his side and the sheets were cold. 

He forced himself to sit up, his head spinning and stomach turning as he did so. He exhaled through his nose and swept his hair back off of his forehead. 

Closing his eyes and rubbing them with his palms, he tried to grasp at any little memory from the previous night. 

“I’m sick of this Spencer! Either you trust me or you don’t.”

“What if I don’t?” 

“Then I don’t know why we’re even together.” 

His eyes shot open and his hands fell to his sides on the mattress. Yelling. There had been a lot of yelling. Screaming. Slamming. Smashing. 

What the hell happened last night? 

He forced himself off the bed, his legs shaking like a newborn calf. His satchel was on the floor in the middle of the room, tossed there and its contents spilling out. 

He walked past it towards the bathroom, slowly and carefully as his legs were struggling to cooperate. He made it to the sink and ran the facet, splashing cold water on his face. 

“Are you really this insecure? Do I really need to coddle you this much?”

“Coddle me? Oh is that what you do? I’m a grown ass man, I don’t need you to coddle me, Luke!”

“Yes, you do! Fuck, I’m having to constantly reassure you that I love you and want to be with you.” 

“I’m sorry you don’t know what it’s like to have self doubts. But not all of us can be perfect like you!” 

He was momentarily overwhelmed by the sound of him and Luke’s raised voices in his head. 

Seriously, what happened last night? 

He dried his face with a towel before brushing his teeth in an attempt to bring some moisture back to it. 

Everything after that fourth glass of champagne was a blur of red raging anger. It had probably been bubbling beneath the surface for a while, he’d tried to suppress it like he did everything else but the alcohol had caused it to all spill out. 

“Get in the car.” 

“No.”

“Get in the fucking car, right now.” 

“No!” 

“You wanna go back in there? You wanna make more of a scene than you’ve already made? Get in the car, Spencer.” 

Had he completely destroyed his relationship in the space of one night? Had the alcohol caused him to push away the best thing in his life? 

He needed to call Luke. Where would he even be? Since they moved in together eight months ago they had never spent a night apart. Even before that they rarely did. 

He needed to call him and try to salvage their relationship in the wreckage of whatever happened last night. 

Legs still wobbling, Spencer ambled back to the bedroom and found his cell phone on the floor by his bag. He grabbed it, trying to ignore the way the world spun when he stood back up too fast.

He had unread texts from JJ, Rossi and Garcia but they could wait. He had more pressing issues to attend to. 

He located Luke’s number and hit the call button before putting the device to his ear. It started ringing but it also promoted another sound from beyond his bedroom door. 

He frowned, lowering the phone from his ear and focusing on the noise from his living room. 

The distinctive sound of a phone ringing. He cancelled the call and tentatively walked towards the door. 

His hand was trembling when he reached for the handle, heart racing as he had no idea what to expect when he opened the door. 

“You know what, fine. I am insecure! But you knew that about me when we met!”

“I had no idea how bad it was, Spencer. I can’t even talk to a woman without you freaking out. I have done nothing wrong here, I was simply talking to a friend.” 

“Talking, huh? So you’re saying you wouldn’t have fucked her given half a chance?”

“No! Oh my god I can’t keep having this same fight. When have I ever given you reason to believe I would cheat on you?” 

“Past behaviour says a lot about someone. You weren’t exactly a saint before we met, Luke.”

“I wasn’t? What was I then, Spencer? Enlighten me.” 

“You were a goddamn whore and you know it!” 

Oh boy, this was going to be bad. 

He pushed down the handle, knowing he was going to have to face this sooner or later and he may as well get it over with. 

Luke was on the couch where he’d clearly slept given the blanket folded neatly over the arm. The expression on his face was a combination of exhaustion and frustration and Spencer knew that was his fault. 

He sheepishly stepped across the threshold, stuffing his hands in his pockets as Luke watched him move. He stayed on the couch and Spencer slowly moved closer until he was dropping down at the other end of it. 

He noticed shards of glass on the floor by the wall and the remains of what used to be a lamp. 

“Why don’t you go back to Rossi’s and take her home instead? We both know it’s what you want!” 

“God fucking damnit Spencer how many times do I need to tell you I do not have a crush on Penelope Garcia!” 

“You’re a liar! You’re a goddamn fucking liar!” 

A crash followed the yelling. The ripping of a cord as the lamp was pulled from its socket and then a crash as it was launched at the wall. 

“How you feeling?” Luke spoke, his voice horse and cracked. 

“My head hurts.” Spencer rolled his lips between his teeth, staring down at his hands now in his lap. 

“I’ve never seen you drink like that. I’ve never seen you drink at all.” 

“Certainly not a shining moment in the Spencer Reid chronicles.” Spencer exhaled. “Is there any chance we can just forget about the things I said when I was drunk? I didn’t mean to call you that. I can’t exactly remember everything that was said or what was thrown. I don’t want to remember.” 

“You think I can just forget that you called me a whore and threw a freaking lamp at me?” Luke shook his head. 

“Technically I threw it at the wall.” He shrugged dumbly, focusing his attention on cracking his knuckles. 

“Spencer,” Luke’s tone was haggard, shattered into as many pieces as the lamp lying forgotten on the floor. “I love you so much, but your insecurities are going to be the death of me.” 

“If you’re never going to believe me when I say I love you I’m gonna just stop saying it. I can’t spend my whole life having to convince you that you’re the person I want to be with. At a certain point you’ve got to either believe me or walk away.” 

“I wish I knew how to stop feeling this way, Luke. I wish I could just shut it off. But I’m never going to feel good enough for you. And that shouldn’t be your problem.” Spencer croaked, still looking at his hands. 

“But it has become my problem, Spencer. You made it my problem. You made a complete fool out of yourself last night. You made a fool out of me.” Luke huffed with a shake of his head. “And you owe Garcia like a thousand apologies.” 

Spencer’s eyes snapped up now, landing on Luke. He swallowed thickly at the mention of the bubbly tech analyst as another hazy memory flooded over him. 

“What are you doing?”

“It’s called ‘talking’, boy wonder.” 

“Oh sure, ‘talking’. Do you think I was born yesterday?” 

“Is he…has he been drinking? Should you be drinking, Spencer?” 

“Spencer, just leave it, ok? Penelope and I were just-”

“Oh I know exactly what you were doing. You wanna sleep with my boyfriend, huh Garcia?”

“Exsqueeze me?” 

“Don’t play dumb.” 

“Spencer just walk away.” 

“You know what? You’re welcome to him. He always did like women better.” 

“I have never once said that, you’re putting words in my mouth again.” 

“Reid, I think you need to have some water, nurture that giant brain and in the morning everything will seem so much clearer.” 

“Fuck you, Garcia. Fuck you both.” 

“I, uh…it wasn’t my proudest moment, that’s for sure.” 

“Something has to give, Spencer. I know you don’t mean to be like this and last night was a fluke but…I can’t live like this. I’m exhausted. It physically and mentally exhausts me constantly having to prove my love for you.” Luke sounded just as tired as he felt. He sounded utterly shattered. 

And Spencer was responsible for that. 

“I have spent so many years trying to work on my self esteem and I thought I was getting better until I met you. I’ve never felt this way about someone before and the thought of losing you is a very real fear to me. I don’t know how to just shut off these thoughts that keep telling me I’m not good enough for you.” Spencer felt the tears burning the backs of his eyes, felt Luke slipping away. 

He didn’t see a happy ending on their horizon. 

He knew Luke was right, something had to give but it was impossible for him to just switch off all these insecurities that had plagued him for so many years. 

“And I can’t keep telling you that you are good enough.” Luke shook his head and pushed himself to his feet. 

Spencer watched him from the couch as he started aimlessly wandering the room. 

“You’ve got to let this go, Spencer. I’m allowed to talk to women, hell I’m allowed to talk to anyone I want!” 

“If it were just talking I wouldn’t be so annoyed!” 

“You’re paranoid. Your self doubt has made you paranoid, Spencer. I don’t want to be with Penelope or anyone else for that matter. But right now I’m also not sure that I want to be with you either.” 

“We’re not gonna be ok, are we?” Spencer’s voice betrayed him as a few tears leaked from his eyes. 

“I really don’t know.” Luke replied honestly. 

“I’d love to sit here and promise I'm never going to get jealous again, but I can’t do that.” 

“I know you can’t.” Luke ran his fingers through his tangled hair. “I don’t want to lose you but I also don’t see this getting any better.” 

“I can’t lose you, Luke! I just can’t!”

“The only reason you’re going to lose me is because you’re acting like a freaking child, Spencer! This jealousy is out of hand. I can’t handle it. It’s too much. You’re too much.” 

“Then what are we going to do?” Spencer whispered, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand. 

Luke huffed out a deep breath as he flopped back down to the couch. 

“I really have no idea.” He shook his head. 

Both men stared straight ahead at the wall, not daring to look at the other. Keeping his eyes forward, Luke found himself blindly reaching across the expanse of couch that separated them and took hold of Spencer’s hand. 

Neither of them had any more words, none that would help matters anyway. They’d reached a fork in the road and had to decide which way they would go. 

One path would lead them to work on their relationship, to try to salvage what little was left. But who’s to say they wouldn’t end up right back here, navigating the same bumps in the road all over again. 

If they chose the other path they would have to traverse it alone. In choosing the second path they were giving up on each other, throwing away a love that was maybe always destined to fail. 

They had to decide if their relationship was worth fighting for one more time or if this really was the end of the road. 

Spencer laced his fingers in Luke, trying to commit to memory the exact way his hand felt in case he never got the chance to hold it again. 

He wished it was more of a surprise that they’d ended up here. But ultimately Spencer Reid was his own worst enemy and his insecurities may end up being his and Luke's untimely demise. 

[oluka]

Oh no... Captain America has been captured... who will come and save him...

ref

[ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa]

Of Constellations & Creeds

Chapter 21: Fire of Devotion 

Summary/Author’s Note: Din presents you with a gift that he has had for while. You start exploring what it means to work as a team and meet a fiery mechanic that takes a shine to you. 

There is a note at the end for what something looks like if you guys are having a hard time picturing it. I tried to do my best. Thank you for reading! 

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!reader (Alpha/Omega/soulmates AU) Word Count:  5k Warnings/Promises: Mature/18+ - language, sexual themes, weapons/shooting

[Previous Chapter] [Series Masterlist] [My Complete Masterlist]

--

This is what dreaming felt like. 

You were the perfect temperature of warm bodies and crisp blankets. Sprawled among the sheets, you lucidly stretched your body as your mind slowly woke up the rest of your limbs. You started by wiggling your toes while you listened to the birds chitter in the trees outside the barn, your ankles, your back, and lastly your arms. You quietly popped your fingers as you brought them up to rub gently at the back of your sore neck with a groan. 

"Shit."

You winced as you stretched your arms and suddenly remembered why your shoulder was so tender. Rotating the cuff much slower, you worked the stiffness out of the muscle until you could move it more freely. That was at least a little better. 

Before falling into bed last night, Din had ravished you against the wall, then again on the ground, neither one of you able to stop long enough to tear yourselves apart. The idea of moving into the comfort of your bed never came up, due to not wanting to wake the kid and once again...that required you to stop touching each other. Whatever discomfort you felt had absolutely been worth it. 

The morning sun was warm on your face and you opened your eyes to find the Mandalorian facing you...still helmetless. You had worried the moment you fell asleep everything would have ceased to have happened. You really wouldn't have seen his face. You really wouldn't have received his mark. But he had sleepily assured you that closing your eyes erased nothing and he promised to be here when you woke up. Everything you had done last night was no dream. It had been very, very real. 

“Din?” you whispered almost inaudible, as if to test him. 

His eyes were closed and his mouth open ever so slightly as he continued to sleep with his arm bent behind his head against his pillow. He looked younger in the sunlight. The gentle rays tinting his already light brown skin to a warm sienna, it did the same to his hair, finding the small strands of molten gold throughout the tousled dark curls. He was so handsome and you had yet to tell him, but something told you he wouldn't believe you even if you did. 

Did Mandalorians have a concept of beauty? When you spent your entire adolescence with a helmet on, you couldn’t imagine it mattered much what the person underneath looked like. It leveled the playing field so to speak. While society squabbled over such trivial attributes, you imagined Mandalore was more concerned with your ability to win a fight, to negotiate, to contribute to your clan.

It used to be easy to look at him with disdain. Then that disdain turned to something little more than convenient indifference. It was easy to blame him for the destruction of your home world, for the loss of your old life. Anger was always easier. And yet as you looked at him now, and fought the desperate urge to trace the bridge of his nose with the tip of your finger, you knew you felt something else towards him. Something that you hadn't felt in a very long time. Something that felt a lot like affection...a lot like love.

Yes, to you Din was beautiful. But then again when you loved someone, weren’t they always? There was that word again. It made you smile quietly to yourself as you mulled it over in your mind. 

Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his, a chaste kiss that caused a soft groan to come from somewhere deep in his chest as his arm slid around your middle. 

"Good morning," you whispered against his mouth and he grunted, not bothering to open his eyes. 

"Ten more minutes."

You smiled, kissing him again as he pulled you closer. You reached down and grabbed the blanket before pulling it up over the both of you more securely. For a man that never took a break, he loved sleep more than anyone you had ever met. 

"Alright, ten more minutes," you said quietly as you moved to kiss his cheek before tucking your head under his chin against his chest and closing your eyes. 

--

Saying goodbye to Omera and Sorgan was more painful than you imagined it would be. She was the first person who understood your struggle. If it weren't for her who knew how long it would take you and the Mandalorian to find one another. But no matter how you felt, you couldn't stay here and she couldn't come with you. It seemed everywhere you went there was something new to lose, a new heartache to experience, and as you hugged her tightly and held back your tears she was added to the long list of loss in your life.

"You'll always have a place here," she said quietly as you squeezed her tighter. It's as if she knew you were trying not to fall apart. She felt the soft cloth that you had used to bandage your shoulder and she leaned back to see your face and give you a knowing grin. “But you are now right where you’re supposed to be.”

"Thank you," you said, wiping your eyes as she fixed the shawl around your shoulders and gave your arms a pat. 

“Keep up with your meditations. They’ll help.”

“I know.”

"Take care of them," she nodded to the man behind you who was holding the child and waiting patiently for you by the cart. "But don't forget to take care of yourself."

"I will."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

The trip back through the woods to the Razor Crest was a somber one and you watched as the child stood at the back of the cart and waved its tiny three-fingered hand at the group of children who were waving in return. You leaned forward and rubbed the space between its massive ears gently. However you were feeling was probably nothing compared to the little guy. He didn't know what was going on, or that there were people hunting him, or why you couldn't stay in such a beautiful place where he had made so many friends. It was tough being a kid in such a big world. Maker, it was tough being an adult in such a big world. 

You looked back as you felt Din put his hand on the small of your back and lean his helmet against your temple for the briefest of moments. You lowered your walls ever so slightly and accepted the comfort that he sent your way. Maybe Omera had been right, maybe he had wanted to stay too. 

--

Being back on the Razor Crest came pretty naturally to the three of you and to say you were surprised was an understatement. Fresh supplies from Sorgan filled the storage bunker and with more variety to eat than prepackaged rations, your spirits were much higher than they had been previously. 

“Come on, kid,” you said, gently as you picked up the child and straightened his burlap cloak. “Nap time.” 

“Ba-to!” he squeaked, raising his arms up and giving you a two-toothed smile that warmed your heart. 

“Just for a little bit,” you assured him. “Then you can come up front and help pilot. Sound good?” 

“Ah-yo!”

“No, no, I promise,” you answered him like you were having a full conversation. “I’ll make him let you. You’re plenty old enough,” you scoffed with a laugh. “You just need a few phone books to sit on.”

He gave another happy squeak as you sat him in the hammock hanging above Din’s bed and tucked him in. You dug out the small stuffed frog that Winta had made for him back on Sorgan, with it’s bright blue felt skin and lopsided eyes, and helped him nestle it under his chin. You gave him a soft pat on the head and waited for him to close his eyes before pressing the button on the panel that closed the door with a quiet hiss. 

You heard your name being said from above you and you went to the ladder that led to the cockpit, looking up to see the Mandalorian looking down. He had brought the ship out of hyperdrive for the time being as you researched a plan of action. Without coordinates, it was pointless to travel in circles and waste precious fuel.

“Can you come up here for a second?” he asked and you nodded. 

Taking one rung at a time, you hauled yourself up into the main hull and gratefully accepted his help in order to plop your butt on the floor with a smile. You didn’t have to see his face to know he was smiling back. 

There had been precious little time for him to take off his helmet once you were back on the ship. Somehow the ship was less private than the bed you had shared in the barn. Although you were disappointed not to be able to look over and see his face whenever you wanted, you understood. This was a new experience for him in a way you would never understand, a type of vulnerability that you would never know, but how you longed to kiss him properly again. You wanted to feel his lips on the back of your neck as he curled himself behind you for sleep. All selfish reasons, of course, but that didn’t diminish them in any capacity. 

“What’s up?” you asked as you leaned back on your hands and looked at him where he stooped beside the captain’s chair. 

“I got you something.”

“Me?” You leaned up with widening eyes as you put a hand to your chest in question. 

“Is there someone else I’m traveling with?” he asked and you glared at him before realizing it was his poor attempt at dry humor. “Yes, you.”

He moved under the chair and dragged a medium sized trunk out from the alcove created by the dashboard and the control panel. You recognized it as the trunk he had received from the armorer back on Nevarro. It was a dark slate colored material and he popped the latches before 

beckoning you closer.

“I hope you like them.”

“Whatever it is,” you encouraged him. “I’m sure I will.”

“You don’t have to use any of it if you don’t want to--”

“Din, just show me.”

“Alright, okay,” he let out a heavy breath and lifted the lid before spinning the entire thing slowly around to show you.  

“You didn’t have to get me anyth--oh, goddess,” you said softly in amazement. 

Inside, carefully protected by a velvet type of lining, were crafted pieces of a silver metal. You hesitated, reaching out to touch one of them and thinking better of it before looking at him as if you needed permission. With a careful nod of his helmet, you picked up one of the cylindrical pieces and brought it closer for inspection. 

“Is it--?”

“Beskar,” he nodded. “It’s yours.”

“Din, I--”

He held up a gloved hand to stop any argument you may have had and helped you take the pieces out one by one. Two bracers that fit perfectly over your wrists and protected your forearms about two inches from your elbows. He took them gently and slipped them over your tender skin before locking them into place and letting you get used to the feeling. You made a fist with both of your hands a few times, opening and squeezing, testing how they felt.

“They lock like this,” he said after completing the motion. “They’ll deflect anything. Blaster-proof. Just hold your arm like you would defensively,” he instructed, pulling your arm up to protect your face and tapping it once with his finger. “Ping. Right off the beskar. We can practice.”

“Handy,” you nodded and he dove back into the box for the next piece. 

“This,” he offered the single pauldron to you, moving around your body slightly to fit it to your non-dominant shoulder. “Protects your dominant side by sitting opposite it.”

“Because I turn my body away from the blow?”

“Exactly.” He put it over your shoulder and clamped it down around your bicep. Hooking it securely across your torso. “Plus, the added weight on your dominant arm would slow you down if you’re using your staff.”

“Makes sense.”

“Move your arm,” he said and when you did, he adjusted it slightly. “How’s that?”

“It’s extremely generous and useful but--”

“No buts.”

“I--”

“You’re my Omega,” he interrupted you gently. “You have the right to wear it. And it’ll help keep you safe--and if you’re safe, I’m focused.” His hand came down to rest gently over your shoulder blade, covering the still tender skin of where he had marked you. 

He had a point but it still made your ears burn with embarrassment. You knew he didn’t mean it as an insult to your abilities. You had more than proven you could handle your own when you first met, but the knowledge that your safety proved a distraction to him still made you feel guilty. You felt the sudden need to apologize but you knew Din wouldn’t want to hear it, let alone entertain such an idea.

“There’s one more piece,” he said gently. He held it out gently and when you looked at him in confusion he offered his hands forward. “Can I?”

You nodded and sat still with your hands in your lap as he made sure any stray pieces of your hair were out of the way. Even with the gloves and his armor, he was always so gentle, so careful. When he was satisfied he held out the silver circlet and slipped it around the front of your forehead and over your temples. The blocky beskar came to a strong point between your brows and the edges came down in front of your ears to frame the sides of your face. Each subtle point that mirrored the larger one turned what would have been an ordinary face guard into something much more symbolic. 

“I feel ridiculous,” you said softly, not wanting to hurt his feelings but also having a hard time wrapping your head around the idea that such a piece of finery was really necessary. 

“You look breathtaking,” he argued and it made you smile. “You’re an Omega, an Ursa at that--people deserve to know.” He swallowed hard and nodded to the box. “If we find more beskar I can have a proper helmet made instead of--”

“A tiara?” you asked with a bite of wit and he chuckled. 

“It has more purpose than that, I promise.” He touched the sides that came down almost level with your jaw line. “These protect your peripherals--keeps light from obscuring your view for long range weapons.”

“Smart.”

“And this,” he touched higher, closer to your ear and a soft static hum came before you heard his next words twice, almost overlapping one another. “Has a direct com line to me.”

“That,” you put your hand over his and spoke into the mic as if to test it the other way. “Is incredibly useful.”

He gave a nod to signal that it had worked and he dropped his hand from your face to rest comfortably on your thigh. You put your hand over his and held in gently. It was beautifully crafted and you were having a hard time coming to terms with the idea that he had spent any of the rarest metal in the world on something for you. But that wasn’t the only issue, no, there was something else. An issue of the timeline. 

“When did you have this made?” you asked, tracing the metal etching that lined the outside of the bracer. 

“When we got the bounty on the kid--I had it made along with mine.”

“But that was before I agreed to be your Omega,” you said carefully, watching his body for any sign of tension. There wasn’t any. 

��I know.”

You bit your lip and looked down. With a shake of your head, you swallowed the lump in your throat before speaking. “What if I would have left? What if I never agreed to this? You--”

“But you didn’t.”

“But I could have,” you argued. “And then all of this would have been for nothing. You--”

“I had a feeling.”

You looked at him in awe and realized how much he had staked on you making the right decision. He would have sooner sold his beskar than taken away your freedom, the freedom to choose what you wanted. He had hoped against all hope that you would eventually want him, but there was no guarantee. To Din it was all left up to faith. Faith in his creed, faith in his people, faith in you. It was hard not to feel undeserving of such things, but it only confirmed that perhaps it was time that you had a little faith in him. 

Going up on your knees, you moved the metal storage box out of the way and grabbed him by the front of his chestplate. He said your name softly as you slid into his lap and his hands came around to rest on the swell of your hips. You tilted his helmet back just enough to kiss his lips, drawing a soft sound from them as he tasted you. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly and you were glad you could see his mouth move up in a genuine smile. 

“You’re very welcome.”

The more moments like this that you had, the easier it became to realize just how ‘all in’ you were when it came to the bounty hunter. When he had stepped off of his ship and chased you through the woods now flight like a lifetime ago and in a way it was. That was a different life completely. And you were okay with that. The world seemed a lot less scary now that you were on the same team. 

You leaned in to kiss him again but there was a loud bang and whoosh of energy as something dropped out of hyperspace and the Razor Crest rocked slowly. Din lowered his helmet and the two of you looked around before you slowly climbed out of his lap and to your feet. 

“What was that?”

“I’m not sure.” 

He moved to the pilot’s chair and leaned over the control board, inspecting the map and waiting for the radar to ping something back. Nearly the exact moment a blip showed up on the neon green screen, a blast screamed passed your vessel and struck the ship, rocking it back and forth. 

“Buckle in,” he barked and the two of you moved to your respective places. 

You fell into the co-pilot bucket seat to the right of the Mandalorian and placed your feet up on the footrest to brace yourself. As soon as you clicked your seat belt, your fingers instinctively wrapped around the control stick in front of you and reached up to flip the buttons on your side of the dash. Your side of the ship whirred to life as you shared control of the panel with Din, making it easier for him to focus on flying. Like you had told him before, if he handled the fancy maneuvering, you could squeeze a trigger.

Another wave of fire lit up the dark atmosphere around you and Din turned the ship to try and find the culprit behind the attack. 

“If the kid sleeps through this, I’ll be impressed,” Din said as he swiveled his own chair around and jammed the buttons for the back up thrusters. 

“I’m pretty sure he could sleep through anything,” you agreed.

“Pa-too!” 

The two of you both whipped around to see the small, green thing standing in the doorway with its arms in the air and a wide smile. 

“You were saying?” the bounty hunter chuckled and the child stumbled its way to you as the ship took a nosedive. You barely had time to grab him by the tiny cloak and haul him into your lap. 

“Got ya!” you said and he squealed with laughter. At least someone found your current predicament funny. You tucked him on your lap securely as a series of blaster fire whizzed passed the sides of the ship.  

“Hand over the Child, Mando.” A deep voice said through the com-system and when the child in question squealed again you clapped your hand over his mouth. Another round of shots pinged around you and the crest gave a jolt as one of the engines took a hit. “I might let you live.”

“Guild?” you asked and Mando nodded before grabbing a large lever to his right and yanking it down quickly. 

“You got both hands on the blaster cannons?” he asked. When you nodded, he continued. “When I say fire, let ‘em have it.”

Another hit rocked the ship as the engine on the left started to sputter and burst into flames before it powered down. Din cursed quietly under his helmet and pulled another lever to quickly power down both engines. “Hold on!” he yelled over the roar of the enemy ship as he rolled the crest out of the way of another round of fire. Stars streaked passed the windows as you both stared upwards and the other ship came directly into view. 

“I can bring you in warm,” the enemy bounty hunter said flatly, “...or I can bring you in cold.”

“That's my line,” Din said in a deadly tone before he hit the thrusters and pointed at you and the kid. “Fire!”

You squeezed the trigger on the gun leavers and shots fired from the front of the razor crest, exploding the smaller ship into a wave of orange fire and metal debris. You flinched away from the bright light and the child clapped its tiny hands as Din gave you an approving nod. 

“Oh-ah!”

“Not bad, little one,” you laughed softly, kissing the top of his green head between his ears. “Not bad.” Din clicked on a few of the switches above his head and the dashboard lit up in a series of red and orange lights. You watched him carefully and waited until he stopped before you spoke. “How bad is it?” 

“We’re losing fuel,” he said, pulling up the map and thumbing through a few different screens. He thumbed through a few of the nearby planets before double tapping the screen and bringing up one of the larger orbs. “Mos Eisley is the closest place where we could dock and get some repairs.”

“Will we make it?”

“Of course.” He pulled another leaver and the ship gave a lurch forward before it evened out. “We have enough in the power reserves to get us there--don’t worry.” 

“I’m not worried,” you said, biting your lip to keep a soft smile from gracing your features. The truth was, with Din, you were never worried. 

--

Mos Eisley was the largest spaceport on the planet of Tatooine. Din explained that what it lacked in a centralized docking bay, they made up for in the fact that they had hundreds of hangars that were each maintained by individual workers and mechanics. It sounded impressive but to you it looked like little more than a patch of dust and poorly refined sandcastles. 

The control tower told you to head for bay three-five and the Mandalorian copied as he steered the ship in that direction. The Crest had definitely seen better days as it sputtered and landed with jerky movements before finally touching down in a puff of sand and a clang of metal. 

As you drifted through the vast emptiness of space before entering the atmosphere, the child had somehow lulled himself back to sleep. It was actually pretty impressive the amount of naps he managed to squeeze in in a day. 

You carefully tucked him back into the sleeping compartment and put on the rest of the clothing you had from Arvala-7. It was still breathable but it wasn’t nearly as light as the cloth you had sported back on Sorgan. The leather riding pants and bantha hide boots would keep the sand out of your more intimate places, while the tan corded top and matching cloak kept your skin protected from the harsh sun without absorbing much of the light. 

The beskar looked out of place with the rest of your attire, but something told you it was just the fact that you weren’t used to it. What was your favorite mantra as of late? One thing at a time. 

You stopped in the doorway to the refresher and couldn’t help but stare at your reflection in the mirror. The metal of the headpiece that Din had tucked gingerly into your hairline. You had spent most of your life running from what you were: an Omega, an Ursa, a royal lineage of some kind that you had no desire to uphold. And yet, the tangible evidence was glittering on your forehead. Had Din designed such a thing or had it been at the behest of the Armorer? Somehow you felt you knew the answer to that. 

You saw Din appear behind you in the mirror before you ever heard him and you prided yourself on not nearly jumping out of your skin. 

"Good to go?"

When you nodded, he hit the button that started to lower the ramp on the main hull and you squinted against the bright sun. As you walked down the ramp a group of rust colored droids popped up from their current task and scurried towards the Mandalorian. Their saucer-shaped heads bobbed in place making them look like mushrooms on stilts as they surveyed the ship and chipped back and forth to one another.

Din pushed back his cloak and drew his blaster, firing one shot from the hip into the dirt. The droid squealed and jumped into the air before clamming up into a tiny ball. 

“Mando!” you jumped and looked at him in surprise before looking back to the shivering droid. 

“Hey!” a woman’s voice screeched from inside the building connected to the hangar. She pointed at the two of you through the window of what looked to be a very dusty office. “HEY!” she yelled again, scrambling out the door and stomping over to you. 

Next to the Mandalorian she was incredibly short, but her demeanor was so incredibly scrappy that you weren’t entirely sure who you would bet on if the two of them were in a fight. Her grey mechanic’s jumpsuit was dusty and oil stained from no doubt thousands of ship repairs. Her hair was incredibly curly, poofing out in tight ringlets all around her head to her shoulders and seemed to be growing by the second as she jabbed her finger at Din’s chest.

“You damage one of my droids, you pay for it!”

“Just keep them away from my ship,” Din said flatly, pointed his own gloved finger to the fear-filled robot.

“Yeah? You think that's a good idea, do ya?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest before looking at you. “Blink twice if this brute is holding you hostage, honey. Though by the looks of ya, I’d say you can handle your own.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologized on Din’s behalf before you introduced yourself and stepped in front of him. “We just need some repairs.”

“The name’s Peli,” she returned the politeness and shook your hand with strong, jerky movements. “He always this grumpy?” she nodded at the bounty hunter.

“Actually you caught him on a good day,” you smiled and she chuckled. Din sighed.

“Alright, well, let's look at your ship.” She picked up a clipboard and walked over to the crest. Looking it up and down slowly, she made a fist and knocked twice on the main hull and listened to the klonk that came from the inside.

“Is it bad?” you asked.  

“Oof…” she winced as she wrote some things down. “Look at that.” She looked over her shoulder at you before gesturing to the sides of the ship. “Bad? You got a lot of carbon scoring building up top. Ya know--If I didn't know better, I'd think you were in a shootout.”

“Well…” you started and Din cleared his throat.

“Can you fix it?”

“Special tool for that one. Oh ya, I'm gonna have to rotate that…” She mumbled. Peli ignored you both as she continued to poke and prod the undercarriage of the ship before pulling down a side panel and coughing at the smoke that it produced. “You got a fuel leak! Look at that, this is a mess! How did you even land? That's gonna set you back.”

Din looked down at her as she walked back up to him and he tossed over a coin purse that jingled when she caught it. “I've got 500 Imperial Credits.”

“That all you got? Well…” she weighed the money in her hand and worried her bottom lip between her teeth. She turned to the droids who were slowly approaching again now that she was there to protect them. “What do you guys think? I mean-- that should at least cover the hangar.”

“I'll get you your money,” Din reassured her.

“Ha! I've heard that before,” she rolled her eyes.

“I promise, we’ll pay you somehow,” you interjected and Peli looked you over again before waggling her finger at you. 

“Now, you I believe.” 

That made you smile and she returned it. 

“Just remember--” Din started.

“Yeah. Yeah. No droids. I heard ya.” She stuffed the credits in her pocket. “You don't have to say it twice. Jeez. Womp rat.” She mumbled the last under her breath as the two of you took her dismissal as a sign you were free to leave. 

You waited until you and Din were out of earshot before you glared at him in disappointment. “We have got to work on your people skills.”

--

Note: When imagining the headpiece Din had made for you, I was drawing heavy inspiration off of Queen Hippolyta’s crown. Something that keeps your hair out of the way, looks futuristic and strong. 

Hey guys, as always there is always room on the tag lists! That being said there are about 300+ of you that want to be tagged in this fic and that is totally cool, but I am human and I miss names and forget tags, SO–if your tag didn’t work, I forgot it, or you want to be moved to another group, please message me or send me an ask. Even if you have already sent me one reminding me, I PROMISE it was not on purpose. A lot of times I wont answer until I have PHYSICALLY put you on the tag list that way I don’t forget! Thank you so much. - K

TAG LISTS:

PERM:

@rae-gar-targaryen​​ @zeldasayer​​ @winters-buck​​ @gooddaykate​​ @steeeeeeeviebb​ @jigglemiwa​ @seawhisperer​​ @halefirewarrior​​ @ripleyafterdark​​ @phoenixhalliwell​​ @thebakerstboyskeeper​​ @honestlystop​​ @lackofhonor​​ @readsalot73​​ @cryptkeepersoul​ @skdubbs​​ @cahooter​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​ @googiebeankat​​ @dinohaze​​ @saltywintersoldat​​ @huliabitch​​ @tainted-gay-ghost​ @roxypeanut​  @hayley-the-comet​ @domino-oh-damn @corvueros​ @pettyprocrastination​ @qveenbvtch​ @hopplessdreamer​   @apples-of-february​ @pocket-of-anxiety​ @marie-is-in-the-dark​ @pikemoreno​ @Pascalplease @cosmicbug379​         @your-pixels-are-showing​ @gamingaquarius​ @blushingwueen​ @crimsonandwhiteprincess​ @bluemoon-glen​ @river-soul​ @robbinholland @nerdypinupcrystal​ @fleetwoodmactshirt​ @jaime1110​ @fioccodineveautunnale​ @fantasticcopeaglepasta​ @kid-from-new-zealand​ -- @roguereds​ @paintballkid711​ @javier-djarin​ @ellaprime7​ @kaetastic​ @veracruz-djarin​ @moonlightburned​ @nowyouwilldielikehimtoo​ @glitterfaecakes​ @karmezii​ @cyaredindjarin​ @nonink​ @irishleesh93 @heatherbel​ @himalayanwhite​ @stylelovechild​ @chews-erotically​ @sylvanas-lover @max--phillips​ @holographic-carmen​ @moonlikepascal​ @frankiemorales  @thewaythisis​ @miss-leto​ @moonagedaydream505​ @lannister-slings-and-arrows​ @atlas-adams-apple​ @lokiaddicted​ @ksgeekgirl​ @seasonschange-butpeopledont​ @nonetheleiss​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​ @this-cat-is-dea​ @thelastemzy​ @mymindisawhirlpool @mrschiltoncat​ @corrupt-fvcker​ @f0rever15elf​ @ohpedromypedro​ @walkerchick007​ @66wookies​ @thirstworldproblemss​ @zannemes​​ @lucifer-​ @mstgsmy​ @lunarthoughts​ @rosiefridayrogersunday​ @browneyes-djarin​ @jedi-mando​ @lv7867​ -- @emotionalswift2 @pedrothirst​ @the-importance-of-being-sasuke​ @queenbbarnes​ @lou-la-lou​ @dandywinchesterbras​ @mtjoi​ @misslexilouwho​ @thisshipwillsail316​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @ladyperceval​ @persie33​ @greeneyedblondie44​ @unelohe @jettia​ @invisibility-thy-name-is​ @doin-stuff​ @wondergal2001​ @missroro​ @bunniwarrior​ @hb8301​

OCAC:

@mrsparknuts​ @equalstrashflavoredtrash​ @djarin-junk​ @altarsw​ @countryday​ @thottybarnes @limedane21​ @warm-tea-and-otp​ @theocatkov​ @sinnamon-bunn​ @smiithys​ @jjlizz​ @marie-is-in-the-dark​ @violetsimery​ @assassinsasha23​  @californiakoenig​ @i-hide-inside-my-head​ @paryl​ @mandowhoreian @peachdameron @imnotmentallyst4ble​ @lustriix​ @lokiaddicted​ @auty-ren​ @theocatkov​ @perropascal​ @manda-but-not-lorian​ @phenomenaaa​ @the-cosmic-ghost-18​ @mad-red @coffeeandtodd​ @lostinwonderland314​ @youmeanmybrain​ @rosalinayagi​ @mrpascals​ @humongouspandafest @highlycommendable @lucifersfavouritesinner​ @theduchessofkirkcaldy​ @spacenerdsebby @maytheglitter​ @keeper0fthestars​ @maydayfigment​ @chibi-liz05​ @fleurdemiel145​ @myhoneybeeheart @rise-my-angel​ @popculturepriestess​ @kochamcie​ @gallowsjoker​ @beefthief247 @ginger-swag-rapunzel​ @toilet-keeper​ @that-one-weird-one​ @thesoftdumbass​ @mandalorianbrat  @ghostwiththemostbitch​ @mstgsmy​ @rosalinayagi​ @sesamepancakes​ @the-wandering-pan-ace​ @straycatoncrack @anteatingbitchlizard​ @dandywinchesterbras​ @marvelous-capsicle​ @altarsw​ @thesoftdumbass @misslolasworld​ @sunshine-and-peppermint-tea @generalbluebirdphantomc​ @haleypearce​ @lakeli​ @jeor​ @shadowfoxey​ @screamingexternally​ @wonder-jedi @1800-fight-me​ @mar-y-tixrra​ @fanficshitandother @03stepedwa @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives @nerd-without-a-cause​ @lonelystarship​ @valhallavalkyrie9​ @stra1ghtn0chaser @celestialscrewup​ @simply-sams-things​ @rosemirrors​ @pansexualdriver​ @wanderlust69​ @taydjarin​ @harrypotter3941​ @what-is-life-in-general​ @hidden-whatever @womenofwharton @amanda-loriannn @justawilddreamerchild @mahowg-blog​ @mlb4evah @ayamenimthiriel​ @bekahbug94 @ayamenimthiriel @obiwanwhore​ @womenofwharton @subtlestarrs​ @chook007​ @alovelypeach @heykathchuu​ @mellomadness​ @t3a-bag​ @izthefangirl @misslexilouwho​ @devcaisnea @misguidedandbeguiled​ @tedpicklez​ @vampgguk​ @risingphoenix641 @the-scandalorian​ @mcueveryday​ @setsuna-meiou31​ @tanyaherondale​ @lordofthenerds97​ @youre-a-wallflower-charlie​ @grogusmum​ @beefcakebarnes​ @pedritopascall​ @4ng3lf43 @petersunderoos96​ @cannedsoupsucks​ @greatcircle79​ @spideysimpossiblegirl​ @angelcvsmic​ @bel-ppa​ @julesorwhatever​ @giselatropicana​ @buckysbackpack​ @dankest-farrik​ @ajeff855​ @aerolanya​ @bluegirlusa1​ @momc95​ @sickinthesoul​ @grippleback-galaxy​ @certainwerewolfnight​ @bookloverfilmoholic​ @a-coffee-addict-613​ @an-author-of-stars @darlingotaku​ @darlingotaku​ @arduadastra​ @pansexualdriver​ @rosemirrors​ @simply-sams-things​ @xxtwizztedxx​ @call-me-soap​ @nerdthickly​

[hansolmates]

here comes the bride, all dressed in pride

summary; You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend pairing; jungkook x reader (f) genre/warnings; fake dating!au, fluff, crack, mentions of cheating, lang, alcohol, mc eats meat, tw sexual harassment, toxic family, dick talk, making out, if u have that one family member that pulls bs on you constantly this is it, this fic is for all the people who have a huge ass family who wont leave them alone w.c; 17.3k  a/n: my second fic for gcn’s 23 birthday project! the fact that wedding szn zoomed by us like that... and so bc im sad that so many weddings had to be postponed this fic was born! a huge thank u to vivi @eerieedits​ / @chillingtae​​ for creating this BEAUTIFUL fic banner and separator pls check vivi out to make your fics all purty

prompts used: “You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?” and “I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.”

if you enjoyed this pls consider giving a like and a share💕💕

Doyeon likes to call Jungkook, “the one who got away.” 

You like to call Doyeon, “the one who drove him away.” 

In secret, of course. In fact, the only person who knows how much you loathe Doyeon and her behavior is your father. And all your co-workers. And your boss. And your boss’ ex-husband. 

And Jeon Jungkook, but of course you haven’t seen the man in two years and back then he was far too polite to address his concerns of your hatred of his then-girlfriend. 

Okay, so everyone and their mother knows how much you don’t like your cousin. Kim Doyeon and you have had beef since the sandbox, and for whatever reason is always out to one-up you. A strange competitive nature in everything, academics, family, and even boys. The sick, twisted part of you has come to enjoy it. While you’re not a fighter as devout as Doyeon is, you have your own callous tendencies farmed from the seeds Doyeon has planted in your brain. She gives you a comment? You can’t help but throw one back. Since you’re a painfully mature soul you don’t have any mortal enemies as far as you know, Doyeon is the perfect amount of hot water to keep you on your toes. 

“I’m really sorry that you couldn’t be a bridesmaid,” Doyeon cooes next to you, swirling her champagne glass with a too-jutted pout, “but if I did there’d be an odd number of pairings and you’re a little too old to be walking as a bridesmaid, am I right?” 

Your nails. Are digging. Through your dress. Alas, you’re in public and you have class. Doyeon smiles at you with all teeth, reminding you of the Beldam from Coraline. Aside from that she looks absolutely stunning in that Lirika Matoshi strawberry dress that has her Instagram aching with likes and love from her baseless followers. 

“I don’t know,” you reply lightly, leaning back in your seat, “I mean, if Yoojung and Rena can be bridesmaids and they’re three years older than me, wouldn’t I make the cut? It’s okay to be honest and say you just didn’t want me in the bridal party.” 

Doyeon laughs, slaps your thigh like you told her the most hilarious joke in the world. Anyone passing by would think you’re best friends. You laugh too, incredulous at the amount of power she thinks she holds. 

“Nice party,” you tack on, surveying the room. It’s filled with pastels and beiges, bright and airy.  It’s Parisian themed, and while you’re not a fan of theming cultures, you can’t deny that you’re loving the infinite supply of macarons. 

“Oh, yes. This is just a taste of the real wedding,” she laces her fingers together, as if she thinks she’s living an Elizibethean love story, “speaking of, you put on your RSVP that you’re bringing a plus one. Am I allowed to know who’s the unlucky date?” 

“As if you care.” 

“I care if you’re bringing Jimin. That tiny thing nearly gave Aunt Lillian a heart attack when he gave a striptease at Yoongi’s graduation party.” 

You smirk softly at the bold memory. That was the plan. 

Doyeon sighs dramatically, crossing her legs and popping out a cherry red heel. She plays with the back on the balls of her feet, letting the little pearly rhinestones glisten in the candlelight, “I should really commend you, cousin,” she drawls, “I mean, how kind of you to be so charitable and give your dopey friends a chance to have fun. After all, I’m sure it is difficult for someone like you to find a date.” 

It’s no surprise as to how you end up with a date at any family formal gathering. You say you bring a plus one, and then between Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok. The three of them draw straws as to who gets to gorge on free alcohol and food for that night. 

“Difficult?” you arch a brow, “I get plenty of dates.” 

Doyeon giggles. She must be feeling extra vindictive today, high on her impending marriage and the taste of bubbly champagne. “By taking turns with those three? You gotta be kidding me,” she snorts, tipping back her crystal, “please y/n. Don’t get so defensive because I’m getting married first. Your time will come. That is, if you stop dicking around with your friends.” 

Normally you’d smother any attempt at Doyeon to call out your friends, but now she’s just done that and insulted your ability to get some, and you are livid. 

“Actually,” you quip sharply, “I’ve been dating someone. It’s been a couple months, actually.” 

“Oh?” Doyeon’s genuinely interested, face falling slightly, “you’ve never mentioned anyone, I don’t see anyone on your social media.” 

“Yeah well,” you feign sympathy, pressing your lips together and tilting your head accordingly, “I’ve had to keep it private for a couple of reasons.” 

“What, is he ugly or something?” she chuckles, “but really, who’s the person who has the misfortune of being in a committed relationship with you?” 

Maybe it’s because Doyeon’s right, the both of you are too old. The two of you have been running around each other for years, with no end in sight. Maybe, the words that linger on the tip of your tongue will be the final nail in the coffin. 

“Jeon Jungkook,” you state proudly, clear as day. “Jungkook and I have been dating for three months.” 

And you pick up the vanilla macaron that sits innocently on your plate, ravishing it up like it contained all the tension in your table. Between you and Doyeon’s bubble, you could hear a pin drop. 

“Jungkook?” her smile is concrete-solid, “my Jungkook?” 

“My Jungkook,” you correct, giving her a puppy-eyed look, “I’m really sorry I never told you. I mean, is there ever a right time to tell your cousin they’re dating their ex-boyfriend?” you laugh, either to lighten the mood or because you love the way Doyeon pinches her face, you don’t know.

“How did you two even meet?” 

“We reconnected through Seokjin. You know how the two of them play Starcraft together, I just ended up joining the call and he was so funny and nice. We just sorta… felt it.” Doyeon nods like a slow bobblehead, still comprehending in her pea-sized brain, “I just hope it isn’t too awkward. I know it’s been awhile but, if you really don’t want Jungkook to come I can always take Hoseok or something.” 

“No, it’s fine,” Doyeon says a little too quickly, masking on her picture-perfect smile. “I’m with Namjoon now, and I’m totally happy. Water under the bridge, it’ll be totally fine.” 

“Really?” your eyes practically sparkle, thankful for the amount of glitter and highlighter you’ve dumped on your face today, “I really appreciate it, Yeonie.” 

And she quickly downs her champagne glass, and gets up from her seat. It’s haunting, the way she gets up, pink tulle billowing around her ankles. “I have to attend to the other guests,” she says. 

“Of course,” you raise your glass.

“But, be careful,” she gives you a little smile, one filled with a last-ditch attempt at a jab, “Jungkook, he’s a little hard to deal with.” 

“Oh don’t worry. I know how to deal with Jungkook’s hardness,” you wink, and Doyeon’s face falls like a ton of bricks. 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“I know,” you shrug loftily, “that’s what I meant, though.” 

And you don’t bother watching Doyeon stomp off the metaphorical stage, double fisting two new glasses of champagne from an awaiting butler as she finds some other poor guest to pick on. Now, the matter of securing your date. Conveniently so, the most important man in the room is walking your way, and you manage to snag his tie just as he passes your table. 

“Ow—ow! I’m choking!” Seokjin grabs, nearly throwing his tall body onto your lap, hands grappling to release the tension on his neck. “Leave me alone, woman! I just wanted to get some chicken tenders!” 

“Jin,” you say sweetly, opening his blazer to retrieve his phone, “I need Jeon’s number, now.” 

“Jungkook?” your favorite cousin pales, eyes widening as you take out your phone of your own, copying down the digits, “what did you do?” 

“Don’t ask questions.” 

Seokjin says your name again, firmer. “You’re playing with fire.” 

“It’ll be fine, it’s the last time,” you quell, already knowing how much Seokjin hates being in the middle of your fights. Once you’ve secured the phone number, you place Seokjin’s phone back into his pocket, patting his breast. “Thank you. You know you’re my favorite cousin, you know that?” 

He grumbles a “damn right I am” before stomping away, resuming his race for his chicken tenders. 

You: hey jeon it’s y/n. I see you’re doing great, i saw on instagram that you released your first app w/yoongi! Totally amazing, been playing for weeks, really upset that i can’t get past the flaming frog boss :((

You: Feel free to ignore this, i won’t blame you if you do. Im at doyeon’s rehearsal dinner, and she basically snubbed my friends and said i couldn’t get some prime dick even though im?? Me??? Anyway, im tired of her shit so im gonna throw it back at her, one last time before she ties the knot. I told her you and i have been dating, and im bringing you as my date to her wedding. Really sorry, the demons took over my brain and made the worst and best comeback of my life. So… if you’re up for being the hottest couple on the floor in three weeks and showing how madly in love we are, please text me back? Or not. You might think this family is crazy and i accept partial responsibility. 

You: I’ll buy u every meal for every practice date we have if u agree.💕💕💕

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: thanks, i appreciate that. To defeat the frog boss, go back to the coconut cave and find the garnet garter. It absorbs his fire and u can easily defeat froggo w any level 15 weapon

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: and as for the real reason u texted me. Im in. let’s get pork belly tomorrow. 

Two years ago, you were surprised that Doyeon could manage to snag a man as fine as Jeon Jungkook. Also unsurprised, because Doyeon is gorgeous and could snag any man she wanted, and has snagged every man she wanted. 

Jungkook was different though. He had an air of innocence to him. He loved her, a little too much to be safe. Your heart would betray you every time you would find him at a family gathering, making her plate and counting the calories she so meticulously measured. How can someone so sweet be with someone like Doyeon? 

Your heart ached for Jungkook when they broke up a year later. From what you heard, Doyeon was Jungkook’s first serious girlfriend. And then you wanted to rip your heart out a week later when you caught Doyeon smooching with her favorite graduate professor Kim Namjoon, wanting to erase any possibility you’d have at love. At that time, you never wanted to feel the pain you imagined Jungkook was going through. 

“Y/n! Over here!” you’re a little taken aback at how much has not changed in Jungkook. His eyes still sparkle like fresh dew, his smile is still pearly white and infectious. He’s even early, snagging a table at his favorite barbeque place and waiting for you as if he is the one organizing your first date. 

At the same time, there’s so much that’s changed about him. He’s confident, even going so far as to walk over to you and slip your jacket and purse in his grasp like a gentleman. He leads you by putting a hand lightly at the small of your back, making you feel impossibly small in comparison to his Dorito-shaped body, broad shoulders and a deliciously trim waist. 

“How was the walk over?” 

“Not too bad,” the conversation is casual, easy. You wipe the sweat off your forehead with a napkin. “Could use a little exercise now and again. I did eat a whole tray of macarons at that rehearsal dinner.” 

Jungkook laughs from his belly, causing you to smile. “Nonsense. You look great, by the way,” you don’t mind it, actually, you enjoy it when his eyes rake over your body. After all, he’s now your boyfriend and he needs to get familiar with all the important bits. He leans his arms forward, bracing him against the wooden table so his face is closer to yours. 

“You’re not doing too bad yourself,” your eyes gloss over the veins and intricate tattoos that paint his muscled upper half. Your smile morphs into a smirk, letting him know you’re enjoying the view just as well as he is. 

And as soon as the tension sparks, it ends just as fast when your waiter comes up to light your grill. 

“So,” Jungkook wastes no time in decorating your stove, making sure to add all the appropriate aromatics and infusions to season your lunch, “do you know why Doyeon and I broke up?” 

“Cheated on you with Namjoon, I assume,” you keep your eyes trained on the darkening meat. 

Jungkook slips a piece of meat in his mouth. Any expression of pain (whether it be from Doyeon or the barely cooked meat) doesn’t reveal itself as he stops to take a sip of water. “Who else knows?” 

“Just me and Seokjin. The family loved you too much and Doyeon made up some sob story about how you two were going different life paths.” 

He chuckles to himself, taking great care in flipping the meat. “I really was a fool in love, wasn’t I?” 

“It… was mildly cute.” 

“Tell me the truth, you have no reason not to.” 

“Okay, you made me want to vomit rainbows and glitter every time I saw you.”

The two of you laugh, faces crinkling shamelessly as the two of you busy yourselves with setting up the table. Most of the food is done and the aroma of fresh onions wafts around your grill. As you place chopsticks on his side of the table, you think about all the times Jungkook made it abundantly clear how much he loved Doyeon: the love letters tucked into her purse, 100 day anniversaries, even just a simple Americano for her in the morning. 

“Is that why you never hung out with us?” 

“No,” you reply lightly, “Doyeon made it clear that I shouldn’t talk to you.” 

Jungkook frowns, “You really don’t like each other, do you.” 

You shrug, “Just always been like that,” you quirk a smile when Jungkook places the freshly cooked meat on top of your rice before serving himself. 

“So what’s the plan?” 

“We go to the wedding, make out a little, get Doyeon boiling. Even if she’s not interested in you, she’d still be upset knowing we are together.” 

“And why is that?” 

“Because it’s me,” you grin into your glass, staring at a water-stained Jungkook through the blue tinted glass. “And all you have to do, is enjoy your night and look pretty.” 

His eyes crinkle, chopsticks pressing between his lips. “You think I look pretty?” 

With a roll of eyes you don’t respond, preferring to dig your chopsticks in your rice. No need to inflate Jungkook’s ego too soon. 

Pinning the main theme of your hangout to the side, the both of you dig into your meal. You throw conversation back and forth like pebbles, grains of sand that build and build until you’re caught up with each other’s lives. It feels so strange to admit it’s been two years since you’ve spoken to the man, and all of a sudden the once luscious meat feels dry in your mouth. 

“Jeon,” you put your chopsticks down, “are you sure you want to do this with me? I mean, I know it’s all my fault and I dragged you into it. Don’t feel obligated to agree to this.” 

“I’m a hundred-percent sure,” he doesn’t stop eating, shoving two spoonfuls of rice in his mouth. His cheeks puff up considerably, and your eyes trail down to his neck as he swallows, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna.” 

“Right,” you don’t need a big explanation or a personal confession from Jungkook, just his consent. “Partners, Jeon?” you hold up your glass. 

“Partners,” he agrees easily. The smile on his face disarms you, a full-fledged grin decked with pearly whites. Clicking his glass to yours he adds, “And it’s Jungkook, babe.” 

Oh, this is going to be interesting. 

Seokjin thinks the two of you are the most boring fake-couple. 

His eyes dart back and forth between your spot on the couch and his desk, where Jungkook is currently seated. Seokjin is hovered over Jungkook, who’s typing and clicking furiously over his PC game. You’re on your phone, feet pulled up to the coffee table while some old Netflix movie plays in the background. To top it all off both of you didn’t even try to dress like it’s daytime, nearly matching in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. It doesn’t look like a couple coming to visit Seokin, it looks like Jungkook is playing video games with Seokjin while his cousin hangs around like she owns the place. 

“Shouldn’t you guys like, I don’t know, go on dates or something?” Seokjin feels like he’s talking to the air. “Maybe get to know each other before the big day?” 

Pulling your phone down to your lap and Jungkook taking off his headphones, the two of you shrug at each other, “No, we’re good.” Jungkook says. 

“We know enough,” you agree cooly, “Jungkook likes Valorant.” 

“I do like Valorant.” 

“He likes pork belly.”

“I do like pork belly.” 

“He’s ripped as hell.” 

“I am ripped as hell.” 

“Okay but have you guys kissed yet?” Seokjin interjects, probably compensating for the nonchalance in the room with his own brand of freaking out. You two only see each other when you’re hanging out at Seokjin’s apartment, and while he’s happy that you two aren’t doing the whole 9-yards and creating an elaborate scheme, the both of you are almost too relaxed. His anxiety is spiking.

“Yes,” Jungkook answers, “at the barbeque place we went to.” 

“It was nice," you tack on, "Jin, we got this. Don't worry." 

"How can I not worry when you're trying to upset our cousin on her wedding day?" he's sweating in his fully air-conditioned apartment. “I get that she’s the devil’s spawn and everything, but she’s still a human being.” 

“In second grade she pushed me on the treadmill because I was going too slow. I got caught on the roller and got a bald spot for two months.” 

“Okay yes one bad example—” 

“And in senior year she accused me of plagiarizing her essay just because we chose the same topic. I almost didn’t get into college!” Seokjin sighs, crossing his arms. All valid points, and arguing with you isn’t a route he wants to take. “Jin, the point is that she’s constantly pushing my buttons. I’ve always been the bigger person and now that I’m old and confident I just want one jab.”

“That’s valid,” Jungkook pipes up, pressing the spacebar a few times, “I want a jab too, she cheated on me.” 

“See? It’s a mutual decision.” 

Seokjin asks, “Why aren’t you more worried about this?”

"Because Doyeon isn't going to chew me out on her wedding day," you checked your aunt's seating chart last week and you are far, far away from the bridal table. "We're just going to show off a little bit. Get drunk, eat some bomb steak. Break up in three months or less.”

"You don't have to just convince Doyeon, it's your entire family! Not to mention you also have to go to the bachelor party!" 

"Oh I almost forgot," you reach under the couch for your laptop, "Jungkook, in two weekends from now we're flying to Las Vegas for the bachelor party and wedding. I'll buy your ticket now." 

"Thanks, babe!” Jungkook sends a cheeky grin to Seokjin, who is unimpressed. “See? I remember to call her babe.” 

“Alright, get out of my house,” Seokjin tugs Jungkook away from his computer, causing the younger man to swivel around in his plush gaming chair. 

Jungkook frowns at the monitor, “But I’m still bronze one. I’m aiming for silver one by this weekend.” 

“Don’t care. As much as I don’t like this plan, I’m not letting you two slip-up.” Seokjin pulls out his phone, revealing Doyeon’s Instagram story, “Doyeon and Namjoon are at the mall buying swimsuits for Vegas. Go to the mall and ‘accidentally’ run into them.”

You sit up straight, tilting your head to the side. “That’s not a bad idea, actually,” you bound over to grab your jacket, giving Seokjin a big fat kiss on his cheek, “Thanks Jinnie, do you know you’re—”

“I’m your favorite cousin. Yeah whatever, bye.” He waves you off, plopping in his own chair so he can enjoy his games in peace. 

“I’m driving,” Jungkook declares, swiping your keys from Seokjin’s opal dish. 

“Oh, hell no,” you jump on your tippy toes to reach Jungkook’s grasp on your keys, but he’s so freakishly tall there’s no way you can reach. “I drive my car!” 

“I’ve always wanted to drive your car back then,” Jungkook cooes, leaning in so your noses touch. “C’mon, you can trust me.” 

“You two are gross already,” Seokjin admonishes from the other side of the room, “see, it’s working!” 

Poking his cheek so he gives you some space, you whip your head to hide the flush that burns on your cheeks. “Fine, but if you crash you’re buying me a new one.” 

“They’re over there,” you hiss between the racks, shuffling between the plastic hangers to point to Doyeon and Namjoon at the women’s section of the store. They look disgustingly adorable together, with Doyeon pointedly telling Namjoon which swimsuit suits his stature better while Namjoon nods along and goes with whatever she says. You crouch down lower, fearing Namjoon’s tall frame would catch you. “Now we just gotta act all couple-y and they’ll notice us. Or maybe we can walk over to them? What do you wanna do?” 

“Do you think we should get matching swimsuits?” Jungkook pays no mind to your sleuthing, holding up a red pair of swim trunks to his thighs, “we could pretend to be sexy lifeguards.” 

You tilt your head away from the pair, only because Jungkook has been genuinely interested in this store since you’ve arrived. Putting a hand under your chin, you scrutinize the dark red cutoff shorts. “They’re cute,” you nod appreciatively, “It’ll make your thighs look thick.” 

Jungkook’s grip on his hanger lowers, and he regards you with dark eyes. “You think my thighs look thick?” he asks, leaning in and putting one hand on the curve of your waist. His fingers dance on the surface of bare skin between your top and jeans, and while you’ve agreed beforehand that you two could touch each other wherever in public, it still surprises you when gooseflesh rises to the surface.

“Easy there, tiger,” you chuckle, putting a hand on his chest to stop his sudden bout of flirting. “I’m just stating the facts, we get it. You lift.” 

“You’re so cute when you try to put your guard up,” he’s brushing noses with you now, and you feel the plastic of the hanger crumple pathetically between you two as the gap closes further. “But you can’t hide from me.”

And just as his lips move to press against yours, a shrill “Jungkook!” echoes throughout the large store.

You nearly flop over the boardshorts rack if not for Jungkook’s arms secured around your waist. Oh right, you think dumbly, this is all for show. Doyeon and Namjoon are right in front of you, purchases already made and looking at you two in curiosity. Well, Namjoon is definitely curious, because you know for a fact that Doyeon speaks very little of you to him and you’ve only conversed with him a handful of times. Doyeon on the other hand, looks a little stiff in the grin. 

“Hello to you too,” you remark to Doyeon, who’s barely acknowledged you. You reach over to squeeze Namjoon’s arm, “Hi Joonie,” you crinkle your eyes, and you fight back a squeal when he smiles back with dimples. Doyeon has such a cute fiancé, and if you’re keeping score he’s way too good for her. 

Doyeon’s eyes glaze over to where you’ve touched Namjoon, and she links her arms with his. “What a coincidence, you two are buying swimsuits where we’re buying swimsuits.” 

“Well, there’s only one mall in this town and we’re going on the same trip in two weeks,” you reply blandly, and you feel Jungkook pinch your side. “Oh, Namjoon. Have you met my boyfriend Jungkook?”

“Can’t say that I have,” Namjoon reaches over to clasp Jungkook’s hand, “nice to meet you, man.” 

While Namjoon and Jungkook exchange small talk, you pointedly ignore the waves of negativity Doyeon sends your way in favor of observing the two large men. Namjoon just said it was nice to meet him, therefore he has no clue who Jungkook is. Interesting, considering Doyeon two-timed in favor of Namjoon. It gets you a little antsy, and you wonder if Namjoon is faking this whole interaction or if Doyeon is hiding something. 

“Baby,” Jungkook rests a hand on your shoulder, regarding you with concern, “you spaced out there, are you okay?” 

“She’s like that, Jungkookie,” Jungkook gently presses your shoulders down, blocking your view of Doyeon as she regards your not-boyfriend as Jungkookie. “My cousin’s a bit of an airhead,” her tone is sweet and jesting, the backhanded jab going right above Namjoon’s head. 

“I’m just hungry,” you say, forcing a tight-lipped smile. 

“Well, that’s perfect,” Namjoon clasps his hands together, “Yeonie and I were just about to go grab some dinner. Why don’t you join us?”

Doyeon and you both reply immediately, “That really isn’t necessary—” 

“Nonsense,” you don’t even have the heart to be upset at Namjoon because he looks so damn genuine, “It’s been two years and I haven’t even bought you a meal, y/n. After all, we’re going to be family at the end of the month.” 

“Right,” you answer reluctantly. 

“We’re gonna make reservations at the Cheesecake Factory,” he pulls out his phone, ready to make a call, “but you and Jungkook can finish shopping, okay? The wait will be a little long but by the time you’re done our table should be ready.” 

You and Jungkook wave off Doyeon and Namjoon as they make their way to the restaurant. Your hand is caught in the air by Jungkook, who regards you with worry in his eyes. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you looked spaced out,” he says, “tell me what you were really thinking.” 

Subconsciously, you squeeze his palm for comfort. “I don’t know, it just feels weird knowing Namjoon doesn’t seem to know you at all. Normally Doyeon loves to talk shit about her exes.” 

Jungkook scoffs easily, “I mean, if she’s marrying the guy I’m sure she doesn’t want to let him know the details of how they ended up together.” 

“True,” you decide to let it go, and follow Jungkook to the register to pay for his swim trunks. 

“So,” the little ‘ding’ of the register opens up the money box, and Jungkook quickly hands the clerk his cash, “we’re having dinner with them after this?” 

“Only if you want to.”

“We need to, right?” Jungkook thanks the clerk, holding the bag in one hand and threading his fingers through yours as you head out the store. 

“Well, do you want to?” you ask again. Jungkook stops the two of you on the sidewalk. It isn’t a fast stop, but a slow down that makes his walk a little more thicker, more deliberate as he trudges you down the lane. You move in front of him, clutching your hands between his. “Are you okay? You barely even acknowledged Doyeon.” 

“I’m fine,” you flinch at his harsh tone, and he immediately moves to remedy it by squeezing your hand back. “I’m sorry. It’s just been awhile and I’m definitely over her but,” he bows his head, feeling embarrassed, “she hurt me, you know?” 

Going into this is definitely one of the more selfish plans you’ve put your mind to. Your heart pangs thinking about what must be going through everytime he sees her. If he’s reminded about all the good times they shared, or how much he’s over thought every single conversation he’s had with her up until this point.

“Of course,” you completely understand, knowing from the beginning that this whole mess would end up with some dicey feelings someway or another. “I’m just thankful you chose to stick by me. And we can talk about it if you’re comfortable,” both of you being victims of Doyeon’s brand of torture, you hope the two of you can at least be friends after all of this is over, “we don’t have to go have dinner with them.” 

“But, Namjoon got us a table—” 

“Namjoon will be fine. We can always have dinner with him another time,” you smile softly, “what matters is that you’re okay.” 

His gaze melts, and you feel his grip loosen in your hold. He regards you with weak eyes, betraying the confidence he held himself to moments before. “Thanks, y/n,” he says, “I really appreciate that.” 

“Anytime,” you reply honestly. “We can go to Cheesecake and order to-go. I can make some excuse about how my stomach hurts and that we should do a raincheck.” 

“Sounds good.” 

“Do you wanna eat at one of our places or eat at the park or something?” you’re already pulling up your phone, checking out the menu. “We could invite Jin too.” 

“The park sounds nice,” neither of you acknowledge the fact that you’re not inviting Seokjin, and for some reason that’s okay.

“Yeah,” you agree simply, “the weather’s beautiful.” 

Under any normal circumstances, you would’ve been friends with someone like Jeon Jungkook, easily. A little part of you wishes that you could’ve met Jungkook first, but Doyeon has better connections than you and always had a good crowd around despite her inner motivations. No awkward exchange happens when you suggest to Jungkook to eat together. Even though you’re not technically dating, the two of you know that eating together is better than eating alone.

And you have to admit Jungkook’s great company. The two of you drive to a reserve nearby, overlooking a tiny lake. Instead of a fancy Italian tablecloth the two of you move your car seats down and set a spare picnic blanket in the trunk. Instead of a candlelit dinner the two of you find some emergency electric tealights in the glove compartment, lighting it up between you two as you dig into your to-go boxes. 

You’re a little envious that so much time has passed by. You could’ve been a little sneakier and made a better effort to communicate with Jungkook when you saw him regularly at family parties, and maybe you two would have a better friendship today. Nevertheless, the two of you mesh like peanut butter and jelly, exchanging conversation that has your cheeks sore from smiling too hard. 

By the time you get to dessert, the moon is out and the stars are floating above your heads. The two of you are at war, fighting with your forks over the last strawberry in your cheesecake slice. After some careful stabbing Jungkook manages to nab it with his fork. 

He almost puts it in his mouth, but instead swipes up some whipped cream to press the last strawberry to your lips. 

“I think it’s working,” Jungkook says randomly as you chew the sweet fruit, “you could see it on Doyeon’s face today. She’s unsettled.” 

“Yeah,” you agree, lying down on the lavender gingham picnic blanket. 

“Do you know why she fights with you all the time?” 

“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself since the dawn of time.”

“I think I know why.” Jungkook looks down at you with his large doe eyes, licking innocently on a spoon of whipped cream. 

“Pray tell.” 

“She’s jealous of you.” 

“No,” you disagree easily, “she’s jealous that I have you.” 

“Bzzt! Wrong,” Jungkook puts his empty container in your makeshift trash can, falling beside you and knitting his hands under his head. You have a little window on the roof of your car, so both of you are able to stare at the navy sky, “she’s always been jealous of you. Think about it. The two of you have similar lifestyles: same career path, confidence, taste, education. But even after all of that? People still like you more.” 

You scoff, hands immediately reaching to fiddle with the frayed corner of fabric next to your fingers. “I don’t think so.” 

“I’ve met all of Doyeon’s friends,” he informs you, “they’re weird. Like yeah, they care about each other on the surface level. But they’re nothing of substance. They’re not like your friends.” 

“Please, Doyeon has everything she could ever want,” you don’t know what kind of complex you have supporting Doyeon’s life, but something deep and insecure wants to separate you two as far away from each other as possible. “Like… she’s Malibu Barbie and I’m Polly Pocket.” 

Jungkook turns to face you, resting his head between his palm and leaning on his elbow. “Do you not think you’re beautiful?” 

“Yeah, but compared to Doyeon—” 

“You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?”

You choke on your saliva, feeling small and skittish at the implication behind his words. It’s been two years. You’ve only been friends for two weeks. How can he possibly say that? 

“I uh, saw you once,” Jungkook coughs, and you watch the way his pale cheeks unmatch the moon and instead flit to a crimson hue, “we were at some party and you were wearing this really cute black dress with a white bow in the middle. Doesn’t even matter what party because it was random, y’know? I was gonna go talk to you but Doyeon got to me first and well, the rest is history.” He breaks eye contact with you, unable to handle it. 

You remember that party, vaguely. It was random, some sort of poetry slam in a shady part of town. Doyeon and you didn’t even go with each other, you were with Taehyung and she just happened to stumble in there from another nearby party. You didn’t even know Jungkook was there that night, or how you were a hair's breadth away from meeting him before Doyeon. 

“Don’t ever think you’re lesser than her just because out of all the people she chose to pick on, she chose you. It’s why she never lets you get to know her boyfriends. She’s threatened by you because you’re just as special,” something low sparks in your chest at his words,  “and now that you’ve finally decided to stoop to her level and fight back with a taste of her own medicine, she doesn’t know what to do.” 

Feeling like your body is on a beach and you’re sinking in sand, you soften over your picnic blanket, mulling it over. “Did I make the right choice? Stooping down to her level.” Your voice is quiet, comparable to the chirping birds and buzzing gnats outside. 

“We won’t know until after the wedding,” Jungkook answers honestly, “but I do know I’m sticking with you until the end. We’re friends now, got that? You have no excuse to ignore me anymore.” 

You don’t want to ignore Jungkook, never in a million years. Now you know that you are envious of Doyeon, for having an opportunity to love and care for an amazing person like him. So in a sudden bout of emotion, you roll over to straddle Jungkook’s waist. 

He’s shocked, hands flying to your waist to make sure you don’t wobble off. But you’re determined, and lean down to press your lips against his. He tastes like cheesecake and strawberries, the taste melding with your own as you relish in the feeling of his soft lips against yours. You melt a little when he squeaks, breaking into a soft moan as he reciprocates the gesture. He’s warm and large and he makes you feel safe. Once your brain returns to your body, you break for air. You only pull back a few centimeters, and there’s no way for you to get off because Jungkook has locked you in place. 

“What was that for?” he asks breathlessly. 

“Don’t know,” you’re whispering against his lips, unable to pull away, “just felt like we needed a little more practice.” 

He blinks, before relaxing in a silly smile. “I agree,” he says simply, dipping you on your back so he can be on top the second time around. 

“We’re in Vegas, baby!” 

Every single terrible comedy movie set in Las Vegas has brought you to this very moment. You’ve always wanted to say that line. Dumping your luggage next to Jungkook’s, you flop on the nearest mattress. Thank goodness you only wore leggings and a t-shirt on the flight, it’s the optimal sleeping outfit after a long day. Feeling something hard and plastic dig into your brain, you hold up the culprit and squeal excitedly. “Look, Kook!” you wave the crinkly confection in your hands, “they put mints on the pillows!” 

Despite your room being a square with two queen beds, the hotel does not skimp on quality. The decor is ornate, the white and gold trim on the doorknobs and metal appliances shimmering beautifully. The beds feel like clouds, as you try to imagine what a cloud could possibly feel like, this is it. 

Jungkook immediately follows suit, ripping off his outer clothes until he’s left in his undershirt and boxers, flopping next to you on the mattress. He immediately opens his mouth when you shoot a mint, catching it easily. “I feel like we’re in a deleted scene of Crazy Rich Asians,” he says, letting the hard mint clink around his teeth, “is this the part where you tell me your family comes from old money and I’m gonna be your sugar baby?” 

“Don’t be so hopeful,” you narrow your eyes, booping his button nose with your finger. 

“I’m just saying, the first class flight threw me off.” 

You giggle, slapping his chest, “No. If that was true, we wouldn’t be sharing a room with my cousin. Sorry you have to share the bed with me, I got the hotel with Jin and he doesn’t want to sleep with you.”

“S’okay,” Jungkook replies softly, leaning closer to make grabby hands at you, “you’re softer.” 

Tentatively, you scooch over so you can lean on Jungkook’s chest. You two have a little time before Doyeon and Namjoon’s combined bachelor and bachelorette party. The past two weeks have been nice—scratch that, the past two weeks with Jungkook have been wonderful. You never cared to measure how much time passed before meeting him, but now that you’ve begun fake-dating, time is the only thing you regard. You’re already beginning to miss him, knowing that in a week, this whole arrangement will be over.

Well, not exactly over. Jungkook says you’ll remain friends after this, but you don’t really want that. You want more, and it scares you to think he may not feel the same. 

But right now you’re snuggling like an old couple, sleeping comfortably between pillow-like sheets and minty breath. Your pretend boyfriend, now your pretend boyfriend with benefits, looks soft and huggable and you want to bottle up this moment forever. You say benefits because, well, the cuddling is an added bonus. Practice practice practice, Jungkook sing songs the words you used that one night under the stars, excuses to seal his lips to your lips. You’ll never argue with that. So when Jungkook’s hand tightens around your waist and pulls you closer, you relent. 

One second, you’re closing your eyes and the next, you’re waking up to Seokin’s wide eyes staring back at you. 

“Eep, you creepo!” you shriek, scrambling away from him. That’s when you realize Jungkook’s missing from bed, the scent of his laundry detergent lingering between the eggshell Egyptian cotton. 

“Jungkook’s in the shower,” Seokjin immediately reads your mind, pulling away so he can unpack his luggage. “My flight just got in two hours ago, you both were out like a light when I arrived.”

“Ugh, I’m really not ready to party.” 

“Doyeon just texted the family group chat. She reserved the rooftop, the party starts in an hour,” he talks mindlessly, rifling through his stuff. Seokjin is fiddling with his clothes, despite the fact that you know Seokjin prepares his outfits days in advance so he doesn’t have to choose. He looks concerned, pulling out a flamingo pink boardshort and setting it down on his mattress. Finally he says, “I’m worried about you.” 

“Why?” 

“Because. It’s clear that you’re starting to fall for Jungkook.” 

The words strike you straight in the place you’re trying to avoid. You’ve been living in a fantasy these past two weeks, thinly veiled by the whole reason you two are together in the first place. Doyeon’s wedding is just around the corner, and what then? 

“I’m not saying that he doesn’t feel anything for you either,” that gets your heart skipping a beat, and you secretly hold a hand to your chest under the blankets, “but do you really want to start off a relationship like this? A relationship all messy and morally objective because it’s built on revenge?” 

“Don’t worry about me,” the words easily fall from your lips, “I can take care of this.” 

“I hate it when you say that,” the words are curt and harsh against Seokjin’s plush lips, “I’m allowed to worry about you, y/n. You know why? Because, because you’re my favorite cousin too,” he bites his lip, walking over so he sits on your side of the bed. “So don’t tell me what I can and can’t worry about. I want you to be happy, I want you to stop holding in this anger you have for Doyeon and move on.” 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, leaning over to press your cheek against Seokjin’s shoulder. “You’re right.” 

“For the first time in a long time, you’ve finally decided to lean on someone,” and both of you know who that someone is. “I don’t want you to lose him over some petty family issue. You should tell him how you feel.” 

“I will,” you wrap your arms around your cousin’s slim waist in a silent thanks. 

“Am I interrupting a tender family moment?” 

The two of you pull away to stare at Jungkook, leaning against the doorframe that leads to the bathroom. He’s in a plain white t-shirt and the red board shorts that you bought at the mall, cutting off mid-thigh and revealing the bulky muscle underneath. You were right, the shorts do make his thighs look thick. 

Seokjin groans exaggeratedly. “Yes, yes you did.” 

Jungkook immediately goes to replace Seokjin’s spot, and some stray droplets fall fresh from the shower due to his slicked-back hair. “Do you wanna get ready? First party’s soon.” 

“Not really,” you admit, “you’re gonna meet the family all over again.” 

“Second time’s the charm,” he winked, “I’ve already met your parents and everything. Not feeling nervous at all.” 

“Oh, really?” 

“Really,” and the facade cools down a little, “well, maybe a little nervous for your Aunt Lillian. Her stares give me the heebie-jeebies.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from Aunt Lillian.” 

“God the two of you get worse every day,” Seokjin has magically changed into his shorts, tucking himself into the bed, “don’t wake me up until we pre-game.” 

Doyeon and Namjoon don’t skimp on the festivities, although in taste the ideas are Doyeon’s in its entirety. It’s lavish and colorful, with a beautiful infinity pool in the middle decorated with lavender and pink headlights. There’s a buffet table overflowing with tasty food. There’s petal pink champagne overflowing from fountains, decorated with fresh strawberries bobbing around the fizzy drink. 

“I don’t know,” Namjoon and Jungkook have been talking for well over an hour, and it’s clear how well they mesh together. Heck, you’ve accepted that Jungkook may like Namjoon more than he likes you. Jungkook’s eyes sparkle as Namjoon discusses the various genres of rap and hip-hop music, explaining the potency of mature themes in a young community, “but I will say music is like another language, knows no boundaries when it comes to sending their messages to others.” 

You fight the urge to chuckle when Jungkook sighs dreamily at the music theory professor. “Wow, that’s so deep.” 

Getting up from your cabana, you nudge Seokjin, who’s currently flirting it up with one of Doyeon’s bridesmaids. “Hey, wanna get a drink?” you ask, throwing your wrap on the cushions to reveal your strappy red bikini. 

“And chicken tenders,” Seokjin presses a kiss to the bridesmaid’s cheek, bidding her goodbye as he follows you out of the shaded area. 

“Do you two lovebirds want anything?” you stare pointedly at Namjoon and Jungkook. While Namjoon’s eyes stay in contact with you, you can’t help but smile a little more when Jungkook has a hard time keeping his gaze in one place. 

“I think we’re fine,” Namjoon answers for both of them, swirling his beer bottle. “I’ll meet you two at the bar once I’m done.” 

“Sure thing,” Seokjin puts a hand on your back to lead you to one of the open bars. As much as you like being in a handsome hotel with money to burn, nothing beats the fact that your entire family is here to celebrate. The elders have corroborated two cabanas for poker and other games, while your younger cousins are playing ping pong and air hockey on the other side. 

“Namjoon sure is a dreamboat,” Seokjin bemoans, handing you an electric orange drink. You take a sip of it, and bug out when you realize it tastes nothing like alcohol. You’re definitely in for a night. “Like I can hear him wax music thingamajib any day.” 

“I thought you were into that bridesmaid.” 

“A mere diversion,” he sighs, leaning his tanned arms against the bar, “can’t ignore the deep voice Namjoon has, it’s intoxicating.” 

“I’m sure Jungkook would agree,” you egg on. 

“What are you two talking about?” you straighten up when the man of the hour shows up at the bar, absolutely glowing under the sunset. He orders a round for the three of you, and you immediately chug your own drink to get to the next one. 

“Talking about how you’re stealing Jungkook away from me,” you joke, accepting another fruity drink from Namjoon. Damn, this stuff tastes like candy. 

“Oh, never,” Namjoon replies brightly, waving the thought away, “do you see the way he looks at you? Hopelessly in love.” 

Maybe it’s the copious amounts of alcohol, but you feel your stomach flip-flop at the thought of love. You’ve always known what love felt like, the warmth of Namjoon’s cheeks whenever he sees Doyeon, when your mom takes care of you when you’re sick, when Seokjin makes sure you’re not emotionally constipated 24/7. But the thought of Jungkook and you in love? It’s a feeling you secretly yearn for. 

“Right? It’s disgusting,” Seokjin groans with an eye roll, “like, Jungkook wasn’t like that with Doyeon at all when they were together.” 

The slip up has the three of you choking on your own thoughts, staring at each other like the three have just been told you’re on a prank show. But it is no prank, and you look at Seokjin who’s absolutely horrified. 

“Oh shit,” he squeaks, looking at Namjoon guiltily, “did I say something I shouldn’t have said?” 

“I don’t know,” Namjoon replies coolly, “did you?” 

The ominous response gets you going, and you quickly place a hand on Namjoon’s arm, placating him. “They dated, yes. But it was only for a short time and we’ve sorted everything out. Nothing for you to worry about.” 

“Oh,” Namjoon quirks his head, and regards you two with pursed lips. “I’m not one of those guys who freak out over other people’s exes. I’m just surprised that I’ve only heard this now,” Namjoon takes a slow sip of his drink, and despite your drink also being cold and refreshing, you’re absolutely sweating. 

“Well, I’m sure Doyeon didn’t want to worry you.”

At the mention of his future wife, he beams. “You’re right, she’s considerate like that,” and the conversation ends just like that. He holds up his drink to the two of you, and you and Seokjin do the same. With a sharp clink he leaves you two to mull, happily conversing with the next round of guests he needs to entertain for the week. 

“That guy is too nice for his own good,” you shake your head, asking the bartender for your third drink within ten minutes. 

Seokjin leans over you and warbles, “So you’re telling me that Namjoon has no idea that Doyeon cheated on Jungkook in order to date him?” he’s sweating just like you are, following suit to your actions and asking to make his drink a double. 

“I don’t know,” you bite your lip, your teeth worrying the dark skin, “I’ve been thinking about it for a while though. I just don’t want to get involved, you know?” 

“But this is different!” 

“But Doyeon’s family!” 

“And all of a sudden you care about Doyeon’s feelings?” Seokjin gripes back, “it’s not about Doyeon, it’s about the both of them. And if we know something that Namjoon doesn’t, wouldn’t it be in our best interests to warn him before he seals a marriage deal that costs him over a zillion dollars?” he gestures to the extravagant wedding party. 

“But we don’t even have any proof that’s the case,” you frown, “Doyeon could have changed—a little, not a lot—since meeting Namjoon, maybe she thinks it’s best to reveal as little as possible.” 

Seokjin wonders what kind of family he has. One as chaotic as his takes a lot to stomach, and Seokjin likes to pride himself in his strong appetite. “Fine, let’s just keep a close eye on both of them this week. And if anything remotely fishy happens, we strike.” 

“Deal.” 

You return to the cabana alone, with a plate of fries for both you and Jungkook. Jungkook is also alone, laying on the lounge chair with his eyes closed. It gives you a chance to ogle your fake-boyfriend a little bit, reveling in the sight of his toned body. 

Setting down your plate with a sharp rap of the glass, Jungkook opens one eye. “Hey,” he smiles, drinking in your muted expression, “you okay?”

Damn Jungkook for being able to read you so well. “I think so. It’s nothing, really.” 

“Well, will you tell me if it’s something?” 

“Yeah, I will.” 

“So, I do have something to tell you though.” Jungkook sits up, regarding you wearily. “Can you… stand in front of me?” Confused, you shove a fry in your mouth and walk up to him as directed, your back blocking the entrance as you stand in front of him. “Okay, come closer. Now bend down,” you bend your back 90 degrees, and he presses a hand to your shoulder to stop you, “no, no. With your breasts out, just a little—there! Arch your back. Like you’re doing the Sorority Squat.” 

“Excuse me—” 

“The music isn’t even that loud,” he mutters to himself, “no one would need to push their boobs in my face to hear me.” 

“Jungkook, is someone pressing boobs to your face?” 

“Why,” he breaks into a playful grin, “jealous?”

“Not if it’s Aunt Lillian.” 

“Unfortunately it wasn’t,” he twiddles with the drawstrings of his shorts. “It was Doyeon.” 

Doyeon? She didn’t walk by your cabana all day. Heck, she barely greeted you when you arrived with Jungkook. But when Jungkook’s alone is when she decides to pounce? And with what motive? 

“I don’t know,” he’s rambling to himself, “maybe I’m overthinking it. It was only half a second.” 

“Jungkook, I have something to tell you,” you say instead, panic in your features. 

“Is it something urgent?” 

“Well, no but—” 

“Then tell me when we get back to the room,” Jungkook easily pulls you onto his lap, and you instantly heat up when you feel your bare butt press against Jungkook’s golden thighs. “Like you said, we’re in Vegas. Let’s have fun while we can.” 

“Okay,” you tuck your head between his neck and collarbone, reaching to press a kiss to his smooth jawline. 

Relaxing against the plush lounge chair Jungkook feeds you fries while talking about the things he wants to do this week. It’s his first time in Vegas and he wants to make the most of it. He wants to visit all the buffets he sees on Buzzfeed compilations, relax at the pool, maybe catch a show. The thought of spending all week with him and your family is nice, and suddenly you don’t feel so awkward sitting on his lap, and eventually he pulls you between his thighs so you can lay on his chest. 

“And between you and me,” he fake whispers against the shell of your ear, as if he’s telling you the biggest secret, “we’re the hottest couple here.” 

The next three days leading up to the wedding are relatively uninteresting. 

Uninteresting in the best way possible. On Monday you and Jungkook spend time with your little cousins, taking them to The Adventuredome, one of the resort's indoor theme parks. On Tuesday you and Jungkook go shopping at the outlet malls with your parents, blowing hundreds of dollars on cheap Levis that have your luggage bursting with a new wardrobe. In between all of that Seokjin and occasionally Namjoon joins you two in your buffet journey, hitting up the top spots and filling your tummies to the brim with delicious food. 

On Wednesday, Jungkook brandishes two gold-foiled tickets in front of you, waving them around like a fan. With one finger, he pushes away your Pokémon battle, “I got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” he announces proudly, “waited in line for an hour.”

You gape, scrambling off of your bed and throwing your Nintendo Switch to the side. “Jungkook,” you marvel, “these are so expensive. How’d you manage to get a show for tonight?” 

He shrugs, “Looked around.” 

“You’ve been impulse buying a lot this week,” you tease, “like really, you don’t need three pairs of the same ripped jeans.”

“This wasn’t an impulse buy,” he says, “I’ve been looking around for shows. Just managed to pick them up today, so go get dressed for our date.”

Did Jungkook just call it a date? Giddy with excitement you throw the covers off, running into the bathroom to get ready. What a surprise, you didn’t think Jungkook would be into spontaneous things like this. 

Seokjin left the bathroom open, so when you walk in the room it is steamy and warm. Your dear cousin is still in the shower, probably waiting for his conditioner to pass three minutes of set-in time. 

“What are you getting ready for?” Seokjin asks over the rain shower.

“Kook got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” you chirp happily, looking through your skin care products. 

“I wanna come!” 

“Nope! Jungkook called it a date.” 

“Oh, a date,” Seokjin drawls, putting his head under the water to rinse his hair clean. “Well then, should I vacate the room for tonight?” 

“What, no!” you’ve closed the door, so thankfully Jungkook can’t hear you talking about him. “We’re not doing anything. We’re just two friends who are fake-dating going on a date.” 

“Sounds like a real date, though,” Seokjin wraps a towel around himself to cover all his important bits before getting out of the shower, bumping elbows with you so he can brush his teeth. “Either way, I’ll be gone tonight. It’s my turn to watch the baby cousins. Don’t have too much fun while I'm in their room watching Despicable Me for the millionth time.” 

“We’ll be sure to stop by with some pizza or something,” you tease, a little wiggle in your hips when you vacate the bathroom. 

By the time you and Jungkook are ready, you two are dressed impeccably. Jungkook is wearing one of the ripped black jeans he bought on Tuesday, combined with a white button up and black blazer. A classic outfit with a little bit of Jungkook-themed flair. And to Jungkook’s surprise, you’re wearing the dress that he first saw you in, all those years ago. You’ve gained a little weight since college, but you still fill out the little black dress beautifully, the little white bow in the middle adding a simple yet adorable touch. It took a little sleuthing and searching through your old college clothes, but you were determined to find it when Jungkook reminded you how much you love the design. 

Clearly from the way Jungkook is currently gaping at you like a bloated fish, he loves it too. 

The show is beautiful and colorful, leaving you speechless and in tears by the end of it. Jungkook lets you hold his hand the entire time, feeling a bout of anxiety anytime the acrobats fall gracefully despite the large height. 

Overall, it was a wonderful show, paired with your equally enamouring date. It’s getting harder and harder to distinguish what’s fake and what’s real in your heart, and throughout the night you’re sorely reminded that you should tell Jungkook how you feel. 

But by the time you get to the room your parents are calling you, asking to get their suit and dresses out of the car so hotel service can do a last minute press and dry clean. 

“I’ll be back,” you say to Jungkook, “I need to go get their clothes out of the car. They’re always so forgetful.” 

“Want me to come?” he offers, hand shying away from inserting the keycard in. 

“No, I’ll only be fifteen minutes, tops.”

“So I guess this is this the part where I get a goodnight kiss?” he asks cheekily, leaning on his heels so his tall frame reaches yours. You don’t hesitate to give a short peck to his pretty pink lips. He pouts at the brevity, “that was too quick.” 

“Go inside,” you insist, “the sooner you get ready for bed the sooner I can get ready for bed.” 

“Then more kisses?” 

“Then more kisses.” 

Jungkook breaks into an all-teeth smile, unable to control himself when he dips down and steals a longer, more lingering kiss to your lips. “I had a great time tonight,” he says, mimicking every single teenage rom-com protagonist who’s deeply in love with the popular jock. “Don’t take too long, okay?” 

You nod, pushing him inside, “C’mon, if you stopped talking I’d be back by now!” 

Once the door closes shut, you let yourself do a little dance in the hallway, wiggling your butt and giving yourself a mini-celebration. You quickly text your group chat that you just came back from the Cirque show.

Jimin: what, a date with your fake date?

Hobi: jeon jungcock? 👀👀

Jimin: whaaaaaattttt. U’ve gotta have sat in his lap at least. 3 times since you’ve started this ting

Hobi: i’ve heard things in college… 

Taehyung: u are all gross and i hate u 

Taehyung: but so am i bc im very curious 

Just as you’re about to send a heated reply, the elevator dings, revealing a pissed off Doyeon. She’s bare-faced, in a fluffy lilac bath robe and matching puff ball slippers. You slip in right beside her, making sure there’s a comfortable amount of space between you two. 

“You’re going to the parking garage too?” you ask, eyes lingering on the lit button. 

“Yeah,” she’s looking at her phone, a few stray hairs from her mahogany bun falling onto her forehead, “Aunt Lillian left her medication in the car. I don’t know why she has to send me, I’m busy getting married.” 

“My parents left their formal clothes in the car,” you shrug, “you know, my parents and Aunt Lillian share the same brain cell. Gotta help them out once in a while.”  

The icy silence in the elevator is probably the calmest you and Doyeon have been since you’ve announced your relationship status with Jungkook. You fight the sigh, opting to take out your phone and open some unread messages. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: hurry up, the bed’s cold without u 

You: lool, why do u look constipated 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: because i am, hurry up. Im bringing ur switch to the toilet and playing on your profile 

You: JEON WAIT YAMPERS AT 5HP GO TO THE POKEMON CENTER U HEATHEN

You tilt your head a centimeter, feeling Doyeon breathing down your neck like Puff the Magic Dragon. You look at her with wide eyes. Her long, slender neck manages to snake its way next to your head, “Can I help you?” you ask amusedly, clutching your phone to your chest. 

“Are you two really together?” she asks, batting her lashes. All this week she’s left you alone, and you’ve been wondering when she’s going to make herself known. It’s a little self-absorbed you have to admit, but ever since Namjoon’s ignorance to Doyeon’s previous relationship, you’ve been on edge. 

“Of course we are,” you spit back, “I love him.” 

And you must be very convincing, because Doyeon’s gaze falters just a fraction. You glare at her, staking your claim. Ever since Jungkook told you the reason Doyeon hates you is because she’s jealous, you’ve started to feel a bit of sympathy for her. Doyeon is beautiful and smart, she has no reason to feel this way. But the brain holds fickle thoughts sometimes, bringing darkness to the mind. 

“He loved me first,” she bites back, lifting her chin. 

“And why do you care?” you laugh tonelessly. The elevator dings open, and you’re met with the open air and concrete of the parking garage. “He may have loved you first, but he’ll love me last.” 

You leave the elevator first, a little pep in your step as you make your way to the rental car to gather your parent’s things. While the words you uttered are white in nature and may not hold any sort of weight to them, it manages to bring Doyeon to her knees, absolutely quaking in the elevator. 

You’re tasting revenge, and it’s sweet. 

“Okay, you need to leave,” Seokjin pulls away the shot glass from your lips, “I didn’t spend days planning the itinerary for you to mess it up. Bridal party in Doyeon’s suite and the groom’s party in Namjoon’s parents suite.” 

“That’s dumb,” you chastise, crossing your arms, “we’re all meeting at the same club at 10. Why can’t we pre-party together?” 

“Because it’s tradition!” 

“Screw tradition,” you stumble on your heels as you purse your lips at Jungkook, “Kook, when we get married I don’t wanna do a whole boy-and-girl party. We’re equals, right?” 

“Of course, baby,” he cooes, being careful not to smudge your makeup when he presses his lips to the crown of your head. “But for the sake of Seokjin’s sanity, you should probably go to Doyeon’s. It’ll only be an hour or two.” 

You gasp exaggeratedly at the blatant betrayal. He only grins cheekily in response, dipping down to press a wet kiss to your cheek. “Fine,” you cross your arms, snatching back your drink from Seokjin’s grasp to knock it down. 

Leaving the bachelor pre-party pains you considerably. They’re having such a good time joking around the suite, telling each other fun stories and relaxing in chairs as they watch TV. This is your kind of crowd, not to mention that you can peacefully check out Jungkook’s ass in those tight dress pants without any crazy club lights distorting your vision.

From past family party experience you already have a feeling what’s coming for you in the ladies’ suite. 

Loud music pours from Doyeon’s suite, and it’s completely unlocked. The bridal party is raving, ten seconds away from being completely drunk and immobile. The lights are being manually shut on and off like some sort of cheap rager, and you have to tell Yoojung to tone it down before you get a seizure. 

The stench of acidic drinks and the tang of alcoholic air is palpable, and instead of a shot you opt for a glass of peach champagne to slow you down. 

As you walk deeper into the suite, you notice a crowd forming by the balcony. Tapping your cousin Nari on the shoulder, you regard her with a hug and kiss. “What’s going on over there?” you ask, heels not helping you see any better. 

Nari’s all blushy and pink, hiccuping as she gestures to the balcony. “Her maid of honor got Doyeon a very special gift!” 

Managing to weave through the women blocking your view, you fight the urge to gag when you have a clear view of the scene in front of you.

You really don’t understand the purpose of bachelor and bachelorette parties. “One night to be single all over again!” they all say, even though they’re not actually single? Like why does the couple suddenly get one night of forgiveness when you’ve already spent years being in a committed relationship? 

Why is it okay that Doyeon’s dry humping a stripper on the balcony? Her white silk dress is ruched dangerously high, soon close to flashing her family. Aunties and friends and the like are cheering her on, and she flips her head perfectly to all the phones shoved in their faces, making sure to get the perfect angle. 

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you turn back in the hopes that your other family members would be willing to have a good old-fashioned tip back with you. 

You squeal when your hands accidentally land on a bare, oiled chest. You look up, mortified at the large man covered in black harnesses. “Hey babe, I’m Wonho,” he says, faking a sultry gaze as he looks at you up and down, “you’re part of the bridal party too? Wanna dance?” 

Feeling naked, you push past him, careful not to get anything on your dress. Wonho? Wonno.

Jungkook loves your family. 

(Except Doyeon.)

As much as he told you not to worry about him, and he’ll be completely fine when he meets your family, he couldn’t help be a little wary on the flight over. After all, it’s been two years and he didn’t know how things would be different. 

Chaoticism and all, your family is a thing to be cherished. Even though Yoongi has been on mood swings that make Jungkook question his sanity from time to time, and Seokjin is secretly breathing down Jungkook’s back every time he so glances at you, he thinks things are right where they should be.  

But despite all that they regarded him with familiarity, hugged and kissed him like old friends, something is different. They’ve turned over a new page for him. They don’t bring up Doyeon. They ask about his family, his job, his life in the city. They ask about how you and Jungkook met, and how happy they are for you. How happy they are for him.

Oh, how he wishes everything could be different. In another world, you two would already be together. 

He wasn’t lying back at the cabana when he said you two are the hottest couple at the resort, including the bridal party (but don’t tell Namjoon). You look absolutely stunning in your sparkly red dress, accentuating all the right parts and lighting up the whole room. 

When he finds you in the club you’re sitting down with your Aunties, keeping the elders company while the younger ones are flagging down the bartenders. He thinks it’s cute, how well you fit in between them, coddling you like you’re still a child in their eyes. 

“Dear, your boyfriend is here!” your one Aunt yells over the loud EDM.

You lift your head up quickly, giving him the prettiest smile. Your teeth glow purple under the neon lights, and he fights the urge to laugh when he holds out a hand. “Mind if I steal her from you?” 

“Of course, she’s gotta live a little!” 

You pout, a little wobbly but nevertheless still in the right mind as you shuffle out of the booth to meet his awaiting arms. “Hey handsome,” your voice is thick and sweet-smelling, “come here often?” 

“Only when my girlfriend does,” he replies cheekily, hands immediately coming to your butt to smooth out your dress. He shys a bit when your Aunties hoot and holler at his public display of affection, but all he wants to do was pull the hem down a little bit. No way is he going to let anyone get a flash of your goods. 

“Let’s dance!” you take your hand in his, leading him to a comfortable corner of the dance floor. 

Clubs aren’t really your scene, aligning with Jungkook’s sentiments towards the loud generic music and terrible smell. But you’re in Vegas, and he feels that it’s all part of the package to experience the nightlife at least once. He puts his hands on your waist and you giggle like you’re in prom, hands coming to rest on the collar of his button down. 

“Hey,” he says with a lopsided smirk, “wanna make out?” 

 “Sure,” he notices that you don’t even check if anyone’s seeing, and it makes his heart flutter when you don’t hesitate to get on your tiptoes to meet him halfway. 

He’s always hoped for a moment like this, a moment where the room stops spinning and both your minds click into place. It’s almost comical, how he distinctly notes that the music fades once his lips touch yours. The kiss is hot, yet intimate. Even though he makes excuses to kiss you all the time because of practice, it goes to show that you two definitely never needed it. Your tiny hands grip the collar of his button down, bringing you two impossibly close despite the hot air. His larger hands grip at the strings that hold your measly dress together, grappling at any excuse to get to your soft skin. The two of you are a natural when it comes to each other’s intimacy. 

The two of you pull away, mesmerized. You haven’t kissed like that before. He melts under your stare, his thumb reaching to nick off any lip gloss that’s moved in the process. 

Seokjin comes down the floor to haul you both by the shoulders, “C’mon lovebirds, they’re taking wedding shots!” 

The two of you follow your cousin to the crowd of people that is your family, already with their own drinks in hand. Doyeon and Namjoon are sitting atop the bar, making a very loud toast that consisted of a quick “thank you!” and “we love you!” before downing their drinks with their arms linked together. The room is thrumming with excitement for tomorrow’s festivities, and surprisingly, you and Jungkook included. He tucks himself in your body like a puzzle piece, hugging you from behind while he watches Namjoon’s eyes sparkle with love under the neons. 

The nightclub gets a little blurry after that, with the copious amounts of alcohol and shameless actions from your family and friends. By the time it’s twelve Jungkook notices you swaying at a rate that you can’t handle. He knows your limits and knows when you have to urge to pee every five minutes, it’s time to go. With a chaste kiss you leave him at the bar, deciding to make a pitstop to the bathroom before telling Jungkook you want to head up.

You’re locked in a stall when you hear Yoojung’s voice. 

“Ugh,” she groans, voice echoing through the tiny room. “Jungkook is so sexy. Do you see the way he’s dancing out there? He’s a literal babe magnet, I can’t believe he ended up with someone like y/n.” 

You don’t move a muscle, pressing your ear against the door that hides you. The silly slander isn’t news to you, Doyeon has been feeding her friends all sorts of bullcrap so they wouldn’t bother talking to you. 

“Yeah, Jungkook’s a real treat but he dated Doyeon first. Sounds like she’s into sloppy seconds,” Elly replies, another bridesmaid you’ve met in passing. “But I don’t know, they do look happy together.”

“Please, I’m sure Jungkook’s just using her so he can get one more chance at Doyeon before she ties the knot,” you bristle, the thought of Jungkook still having feelings for Doyeon makes your heart thud painfully against your chest, “like, what a downgrade. Namjoon and Doyeon do not deserve this drama. If Jungkook ever liked Doyeon at all, he wouldn’t have come. Period.” 

You slam the door open, causing Elly to squeal and Yoojung’s YSL lipstick to fall onto the sink. You’re the epitome of relaxation, walking towards the sink to wash your hands. The bridesmaids simply stare at you, unable to formulate a comeback. When you finally dry your hands, you say your next words. 

“Jungkook is here because he loves me,” an act act act. This is all an act. You shouldn’t be this offended because you know it’s all false. “And you’re wrong. It’s not Jungkook that doesn’t deserve Doyeon. Jungkook was too good for Doyeon.” 

And you slam your heels against the tile, stilettos pounding to the beat of the music. Your exit is full of anger and frustration as you ignore the burn in your step and the ache in your heart, flagging the first bartender you see to get you a double. 

Shot for shot, that anger soon melts into guilt as Yoojung’s words sink in. The thought of Jungkook using you to get to Doyeon is terrible, you can barely stomach the thought. But that’s exactly what you’re doing, right? You’re using Jungkook to get back at Doyeon. 

Why did you even want to get back at Doyeon anymore? Why do you have to prove anything to her? If she just continues to push you around, isn’t that more on her than it is on you? 

Jungkook soon finds you after you’ve nursed a few drinks, leaning unceremoniously against a barstool. His eyes widen at your state, and he immediately sheds his jacket to wrap it around your waist. 

“Why did you drink so much?” he chastises, “it’s the night before the wedding.” 

“Jungkookie,” you warble, clutching your stomach, “I don’t feel so good.” 

He sighs, bending down. “Get on my back. Make sure the jacket covers you up, okay?” 

He doesn’t even grunt when you put all your weight on him, feeling like a ragdoll as he hoists you up. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, letting him carry you to your room. Most of the older family already went upstairs to sleep, so none of your cousins could care less when they see you get hauled away by Jungkook. 

You inhale, he smells like sweat and cologne. “I like putting my head between your neck,” you babble, and you feel Jungkook chuckle through his chest, “you smell so nice there. It’s the bestset! Comfiest place ever, ‘specially when m’sleepy.” 

“Are you sleepy now, baby?” You love how smooth the petname falls from his lips. 

“I will be when we get upstairs,” you reply, happy to see the elevator is empty. “I’m just all up in my head.” 

“Is that why you were drinking so much? You said you were gonna stop earlier.” 

“Yeah, but,” you shamefully tuck your head in his shoulder, “I was frustrated.” 

“Frustrated? At who?” concern laces his tone as he struggles to hold you with one hand and fumble for his key in the other. You tighten your legs around his slim waist until the door clicks open, and he immediately walks over to your bed to plop you down. “Babe, are you crying?” he finally has a good look at your face, horrified to see the streaks of tears mixed with mascara running down your face. 

“I wa-was jealous,” you confess tearily, clutching your face in your hands,  “some girls in the bathroom were calling you sexy and that you were only here so you could try to win over Doyeon. I know it sounds ridiculous and you would never do that but. The thought of you getting back with her makes me so jealous and I hate it! I’m starting to feel so guilty about this, all of this. I put all of this on ourselves and I’m ruining it.” 

“Ruining what? You’re not making any sense.” Jungkook places a hand on your knee, crouching down so he can look up at you. 

“I’m ruining us,” you gush despondently, “I’m ruining any potential of us before we even start.” 

Jungkook freezes, hand clutching your knee like a lifeline. The potential of you two together? You’ve thought of that? Jungkook didn’t drink much tonight, so his mind is definitely running on all cogs. 

Coming to a conclusion, he rubs slow, soothing circles on your knee, his other hand reaching up to wipe the tears from your face. “You’re not ruining anything,” he declares firmly, “that’s impossible. I may have agreed to fake-date you because of Doyeon, but I stayed because of you.” 

His heart aches seeing you so upset, and he decides to take initiative to get you out of your clothing and ready for bed. You don’t have any words, opting to let Jungkook take care of you as you try to calm yourself down. He finds a spare t-shirt,  a long one so you’ll be comfortable. He doesn’t bat an eye when he unzips your dress, in favor of balling up the shirt and getting you clothed as fast as possible. He rifles through the bathroom to find your makeup wipes, and he’s gentle when he scrubs up the once pretty makeup you spent half an hour doing. Barefaced and fresh, you look sleepy and ready to crash. 

But before Jungkook can tuck you in, you clutch his arm.

“Jungkook,” you murmur sleepily, “I think I lo—” 

“I know, baby,” he doesn’t want a confession like this, and he’s sure you wouldn’t want it either. You still look a little green and you’re not sober, so he makes the executive decision to pin these feelings for later. “I’m not trying to invalidate you, I promise. I want you to tell me this, all of this in the morning. We’ll talk then.”

“Okay,” you melt in the sheets, pulling the blankets up to your chest. When you see Jungkook move away from the bed, you jolt, “Where are you going?” 

Jungkook smiles, reaching over to tuck you back in, “I left my blazer in Namjoon’s room. I’ll be right back, okay?” 

He walks out of your room as quietly as he can, making sure to close the door slowly. Once it’s sealed shut, he leaps up, giving himself a silent cheer as he bounds down the hall. You like him back! 

The smile on his face is tired but full of fervor as he makes his way to Namjoon and Doyeon’s suite. He doesn’t even care that he probably has to talk to Doyeon to get his jacket back, thoughts filled with the excitement of his requited feelings and going back to his room to cuddle up with you. 

He doesn’t even have to knock when the large double doors swing open. Dumbfounded, he looks down at Doyeon, wearing a tiny black nightie and dangling his jacket with one finger. It’s an outfit that leaves nothing to the imagination, and he feels his neck heat up at the feeling he’s encroaching on an intimate moment. 

“You left this,” she says slowly, a tiny smirk on her lips. 

“Uh, thanks,” he says, making sure not to touch her when he grabs his blazer. 

In her other hand she holds up her room’s designated ice bucket. “Could you also get me some ice, please? Namjoon’s fast asleep and I really don’t want to walk out all… exposed.” 

He swallows his sigh, knowing it’s going to take significantly longer to get back to you when Doyeon drawls like this. “Of course,” he replies tersely, “after all, you are the bride.” 

“Thanks, Jungkookie.” 

He makes quick work of getting Doyeon the ice, pumping his long legs down the hall. The ice room is cold and cramped, barely enough for his tall frame to fit in. He jabs the container in the holder, pressing the button ten times per second to get as much ice out as possible. 

As soon as he turns around with the ice, he drops the whole bucket. 

Like glass, it shatters onto the ground, hundreds of little clear pebbles skimming across the floor like marbles. Doyeon’s pushing Jungkook against the ice machine, freshly manicured hands splayed across his chest. Her body is flush against his, making sure that he feels all of her with her thin silk gown. 

“What the fuck, Doyeon get off of me!” a little part of him hopes she’ll come to her senses on her own so he doesn’t have to put his hands on her. 

“C’mon, Kookie,” her voice is a sickly candy sweet, her eyes wide with hunger as she takes in his form, “just one more night, you and me. Like old times. One more night before I tie the knot.” 

“You’re crazy,” he balks, running his hand through his hair, “this is sexual harassment, do you know that?” 

“You don’t mean that, Kookie,” Doyeon dips a red-tipped nail down his chest, “why settle for someone like y/n when I’m right here?” 

He grabs her wrists, firm. She winces at the contact, but doesn’t say anything when Jungkook delivers her a scary glare. It gets her quiet, fearful of this version of Jungkook. Doyeon’s never seen Jungkook like this before, so unwilling to bend at her whim and emanating all his power against her. 

“Why settle for your cousin?” he whispers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “because, I love her.” 

Her lip curls in disgust, nails digging into the palm of his hand. “But you loved me first.”

“And I’ll love her last,” he spits pack, letting go of her. His anger splits for a brief second, regarding Doyeon with sorrow, “this is low, even for you.”

Jungkook pushes past the ice, wobbling out of the ice room. He doesn’t look back, he just knows that he needs you right now. He needs to tell you everything, figure out a plan to cancel the wedding or something. 

But when he crashes inside the room, you’re dead asleep. He can’t find the courage to wake up Seokjin as well, who returned and is sleeping in his club outfit. He groans, feeling useless as he stares at the two of you, ignorant of what just conspired ten minutes ago. 

And Namjoon, what is he going to tell Namjoon? Poor guy doesn’t deserve any of this. 

Walking up to your side of the bed, he tucks your loose hair behind your ear. You look so peaceful now, so beautiful. 

It’s just going to have to wait until the morning. 

The morning of the wedding, you wake up alone. 

The first thought that runs through your head is that Jungkook has rejected you. The little, insecure bug that will never go away in your brain fills you with rash thoughts. He’s on a flight half way back home and he regrets this whole week. 

But after that exaggeration, you notice two aspirin and a bottle of water on your nightstand, along with your phone that’s fully charged. 

You pull up the screen to check the dozens of messages that flood your app. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: morning babe, im sorry i had to leave early. Namjoon showed up at our door freaking out that his suit is the wrong fit and shade. Now im running around vegas trying to find a replacement that doesn’t look like an elvis presley extra

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: but i didn’t forget what you said last night, i promise! Just go get ready and i’ll meet u at the chapel outside the resort. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: i also have something to say to you

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: wow i didn’t realize how ominous that sounds. Dw, everything will be fine

When someone tells you something will be fine, it’s a universal agreement that no, things will not be fine. 

So you get dressed, and put on your makeup mindlessly. You don’t really know what to make of Jungkook’s cryptic message, but you decide to leave those thoughts in the back of your mind as you go to the other rooms to help your family get ready. 

Seokjin is busy tying the ring bearer’s tie, looking handsome with his slicked back hair and polished grey suit. “Morning, cousin,” he sing-songs, “you look beautiful today!”

You smooth out your dress, a cascading silver number with starry sparkles. You feel like you’re living out your magical girl fantasies, wrapped up in layers of tulle and a sparkly sweetheart bodice.

“Right back at you. Say, you didn’t see Jungkook this morning, did you?” 

“No, but I heard he’s with Namjoon hunting for a new suit. Why?” 

“Nothing,” you lean against the guest table, “he just said something really ominous over text.” 

“I will never get a peaceful day so long as I’m in this family,” he says this directly to the ring bearer, a toddler who’s obviously confused at his uncle’s weird sayings. 

Your phone beeps conveniently, displaying Jungkook’s name. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: just got his suit. We’ll be there in fifteen. Meet me at the garden behind the chapel, please. It’s urgent 

Now you’re just worried. So you tell Seokjin your sentiments, and that he should have his phone on hand in case you needed him. With a confused nod, you leave him to go down to the garden.  

The groomsmen and bridesmaids are already at the chapel taking pictures. Only the wedding party is really allowed at this time, but you manage your way through the gardens virtually undetected. Jungkook’s already waiting for you, hiding under a white gazebo overlooking the hotel’s fountain. 

He looks gorgeous in his all black pinstripe suit, hair pushed back and pants fitted perfectly around his waist and thighs. When he sees you he gets up, full of skittish energy. You note that his hair isn’t even styled, only washed and curling slightly at the ends, as if he’s in a rush.

“W-wow,” he marvels when you rush up to him, “you look gorgeous.” 

You drop the handful of silver tulle, letting it fall to the floor. “Jungkook,” you clasp his hand in both of his, guilt flooding your eyes. You’ve been thinking about this all morning, and you need to cut to the chase. Jungkook tries to open his mouth but you silence him with a finger on his lips. “I can’t—I can’t do this. I know this sounds really stupid and you probably don’t want anything to do with me after this, but I shouldn’t have made this elaborate scheme,” you bite your lip, feeling even more antsy as Jungkook squirms in his grip. He however, is trying very hard to focus with his eyes, confused at your sudden confession. “I like you, Jungkook. I don’t want to parade you around like a revenge plot anymore, it isn’t fair and it’s wrong in so many ways—” 

“That’s great,” he says simply, brown eyes swirling with thoughts, “um, ditto. But—”

“Wow,” you frown, “I pour my heart out to you and this is what I get?” 

“It’s great that you want to be selfless right now,” Jungkook takes your hand, firm and tight, “but without this elaborate scheme, we wouldn’t be saving asses like we are right now.”

“What are you talking about?” You thought Jungkook rushed you down here so you could talk about each other’s feelings before the wedding. 

“Doyeon just threw herself on me last night. I got her ice and she took that as an invitation to seduce me like an episode of Sex and the City. Namjoon needs to divorce her, like yesterday.” 

Your face then morphs into something dark and ugly, and you fling your whole confession out the window. The thought of Doyeon going as far as throwing herself on Jungkook as a last ditch attempt to get back at you, has you seeing blood red. “What? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner!”

“You were asleep!” he shoots back, putting his hands on your shoulders. He rubs warm strokes up and down your bare arms, “please relax. You’re shaking.” 

“And why didn’t you tell Namjoon when you were driving around all morning?”

“I tried to!” he retorts, hands swinging in the air. You huff when his hands land back on your shoulders, preventing you from running to the chapel to extract Doyeon out yourself, “but he just kept talking shit about how much he loves Doyeon and he can’t imagine being together with anyone but her and I felt so bad! I’m sorry I chickened out. I really don’t wanna be the one to break Namjoon’s heart. I’m just the plus one!” 

You pinch your brows, mulling it over. “Fuck it, let’s crash a wedding,” you declare, “where’s Namjoon and how can we get him alone?” 

Jungkook exhales, a hand carding up to loosen his thin silver tie. “He’s taking pictures with the groomsmen right now. It’s gonna be awhile before we get a chance to talk.” 

“Fuck,” you curse, sitting down on the white bench. Jungkook presses soothing circles on your back. “We have no choice, we have to get to him before the ceremony starts.” 

“You’ll have to get through me, first.” 

Doyeon’s not even in her wedding dress when she strides up to the two of you. She’s in ballet flats with her hair and makeup done, but the only thing she’s wearing is the thin underdress of her actual ball gown, a simple silk negligee that reaches her ankles. You don’t even know how she’s managed to escape the bridal party, especially without her dress. 

Feeling protective, you step in front of Jungkook. “Before you say anything,” you murmur, “I’m not ruining your wedding, and I never wanted to. You’re ruining it because of your mistakes.” 

“Oh, boo-hoo,” Doyeon rolls her eyes, playing with her nails, “I didn’t even do anything wrong, everyone knows that on the bachelorette’s night she can do whatever she wants. Namjoon could’ve fucked whoever too if he wasn’t so faithful.” 

“Namjoon is ten times the partner you are and would never do that,” You’re seeing red, unable to comprehend the complete garbage spilling from Doyeon’s lips. “You touched my boyfriend without his consent, and I will never forgive you for that,” your voice is scarlet, angry and thin. 

“It’s not like he isn’t used to it, I—”

“NO!” the sound that comes out of your mouth has all three of you flinching, and you’re thankful the gazebo is far enough so that the rest of the wedding party is oblivious to your actions. “You’re not allowed to justify yourself anymore, Doyeon. What you did was fucked up, what you’ve done to all of us is fucked up!” You realize now that you didn’t need to get back at Doyeon with a fake date, what you needed was this. You needed a reprieve, a chance to lay down your law. “Jungkook was right all along. You are jealous. You’re jealous and selfish and have no shame. You think you own whatever you set your eyes on, but you’re wrong. We’re not objects, we’re people.” 

You walk up to Doyeon, eye to eye. You jab a hand at her chest, pushing her back slightly. You soak up your cousin’s expression, and you watch as Doyeon’s eyes pop out in surprise at your act of boldness. “So you have a choice here. You can either swallow your pride and leave Namjoon at the aisle quietly and save whatever dignity you have left. Take your pathetic ass on the next flight back home and pack up your apartment. Or, we can start a big scene at your ceremony,” you probably look manic, filled with freshly injected power, “I know Seokin’s always wanted to yell ‘I object!’ at a wedding.” 

“You have no proof,” Doyeon glares right back, taking a step closer to you. Your noses are practically touching, but you dig your heels in the white-stained wood, puffing up your chest and standing your ground. 

“Doesn’t matter,” you bite back, “what matters is that Namjoon will doubt you. Namjoon knows we’d never do anything to sabotage a wedding without a valid reason. Even if you do get married tonight, we have Jungkook’s word and proof of a relationship that overlaps with his. I find this option to be far worse because it’s prolonging the inevitable,” you shrug, “I hope you two didn’t sign a prenup.”  

Hot, angry tears mess up her meticulously done makeup. Black rivers carve through her porcelain skin, showing the feelings that have been dormant since been hidden under a facade. Doyeon’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of you. She’s practically vibrating in combined fear and rage, seeing blurry images and memories and regrets of what could’ve been if not for her self-absorption. And finally, your cousin comes to a decision. 

“I hate you,” she emphasizes each word with the most concentrated of venoms in her tone. WIth one last look at the two of you, she stomps away. Instead of going to the direction of the chapel however, she takes the shortcut back to the hotel. 

Her grave words are unsurprising, but nevertheless disappointing. A thinly veiled smile grazes your lips, sadder than ever as you watch your cousin go. “And I pity you.” 

As soon as she’s gone Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to scoop you up, hugging you tightly as you fight the urge to cry again. “Oh babe, that was really hot. The way you stood your ground? That was amazing!” Jungkook takes out his silver pocket square to wipe the stray tears that threaten to ruin your makeup. “You’re so strong, don’t you know that? You did it and I’m so proud of you.” 

As much as you want to revel in the affection, go back and bed and fall asleep until noon, you can’t.  Grasping Jungkook by the hand, you tug him to the chapel. “C’mon,” you say, “we have to corner Namjoon.”

The groomsmen photos are done by the time you get there. Thankfully, the to-be-groom doesn’t look too occupied. His eyes widen upon seeing you two stumble from the garden of all places.

“Oh, y/n. Jungkook,” Namjoon tilts his head curiously at how winded you two look, equally flushed and out of breath. From your state, Namjoon muses that it must've taken a lot of effort to finally get to the groom unattended, save for a few random family members he’s making small talk with, “The wedding isn’t for another hour but I must say, you two look radiant together. Doyeon always thought you’d end up an old spinster-catlady, but I always told her that you’re too beautiful to be single for long,” he pauses to send the aforementioned man a wink, “Jungkook’s a lucky guy. What were you two doing back there?”

“Uh, things?” Jungkook scratches the back of his head, not wanting to reiterate the fiasco between Doyeon moments before.

Namjoon smirks at the ebony-haired man, “Couple things?”  

You can’t take this needless small talk anymore. With a teary groan, you throw yourself at Namjoon. You hug him tight, and you don’t even care when you feel a slosh of his water bottle sprinkle your hairstyle. 

“Joonie,” you bemoan, “please, please don’t leave me. You’re the best not-cousin ever. I know it’ll be a pain to face Doyeon after today but you’re a strong independent man and when you’re ready Jin is single and ready to mingle—ow! Jungkook! Did you just pinch my ass?” 

“Do you really think setting him up with the next cousin is the best idea right now?”

“I figured a little humor would lighten the blow,” you sulk.

“I’m sorry what—what blow?” Namjoon frowns, pushing you away from him. “Y/n, have you been crying?” 

The tears resurface at that moment, like a kettle on overboil. Namjoon’s face is knitted together, unable to grasp at any conclusion. Namjoon feels something grave is upon the sky as he tenderly brushes away your tears with his thumbs before releasing you. Instantly Jungkook pulls you to his chest, patting you soothingly. As much as you two do not want to be the bearer of bad news, the time is now. 

“Namjoon,” Jungkook says, finding the strength that was previously stuck in his throat, “we have to tell you something.” 

Needless to say, Las Vegas is very forgiving when it comes to last minute wedding cancellations. 

The whole wedding party, both Namjoon and yours, collectively feels like a whole ice bucket has been dumped upon your families. You would like to say that the whole issue was handled mess free, but that would be a bald-faced lie. 

There was screaming, crying, hysterical laughter from all sides. Doyeon’s parents were of course furious, embarrassed, unable to calm down a hysterical Doyeon as they haul her on the next flight home. You have a feeling they won’t be showing up to family events anytime soon. 

Namjoon’s family leaves quietly, frustrated, but classy. After all, they know at the back of their heads they dodged a bullet. Everyone leaves except Namjoon however, who isn’t quite ready to go back to his and Doyeon’s apartment. Namjoon invites Seokjin and some other close cousins to stay in his suite until their flight tomorrow afternoon, wanting to be surrounded by close friends and (almost) family. 

As for your family, they decide to find the silver lining. While the chapel was able to cancel the wedding, the reception wasn’t as easy to sway. At the very last second, your grandparents decided to make use of the reception and renew their Golden Anniversary vows instead. The ceremony will be a quick, sweet affair. At this very moment, your cousin Yoongi is getting officiated online. 

And for you? You’re in the place where you’ve wanted to remain all week. A fluffy hotel bed wrapped up with your not-boyfriend. 

Or? 

Would a not-boyfriend be snuggling against your chest like you’re the softest teddy bear in the toy shop? Would a not-boyfriend be hooking your leg atop his lap, forcing you to latch onto him so his hands can roam freely against your soft thighs? 

“We have to get ready for the wedding,” you whine against his hold, to no avail when he only holds you tighter. 

“But your grandparents are already married,” Jungkook whines right back, nuzzling his nose in your head. “This is like an afterparty fifty years later.” 

“I wanna get dressed,” you insist, pushing yourself up, “and we still need to talk.” 

Without Seokjin staying with you, the hotel room feels much bigger and freer for the two of you. Your clothes are scattered on the floor, uncaring of any wrinkles or smears that would get on the delicate fabric. 

All that matters is that Jungkook is still here with you. Doyeon’s wedding is called off, but he’s still lying in bed with you. You want to burn this image to memory, and keep it forever. Jungkook laying in only his white undershirt and boxers, looking at you dreamily as if he’s still in nap-mode. Hair that was previously windswept and exposing his forehead is now out of place, fluffy and sticking out in all directions. His cheeks are flushed with coral-colored warmth, and a little puffy because you two have been sleeping most of the afternoon. 

“Right, talk,” he repeats, letting you hand him his black button up so he can clothe himself. 

You throw off your shirt somewhere behind you, not wanting to face him as you walk to the full-length mirror. “So, I think my feelings for you are pretty clear and out in the open…” 

“Same, I think I made it pretty clear as well.” 

“What? You turn around, looking at where he’s still half-covered in bed. “You did not. I distinctly remember almost confessing my love to you last night. And then this morning, only for you to cut me off and say ‘that’s great’.” 

“Oh,” he stares at the white sheets that cover his lower half. “I guess I didn’t then.” 

You smile wryly, turning back to face the mirror so you can slip into your dress that’s been pooled around your ankles like a silver halo. “Maybe you thought it in your mind and forgot to tell me.” 

That seems about right. Jungkook has a tendency to be a little too passionate for his own good, windswept in thoughts and feelings until they consume him. He hops out of bed, walking only in his dress shirt and socks as he makes his way to the mirror. “Then let me do all the talking,” he says softly against your neck, hands on your hips. 

You shiver when you feel the cold silver of the zipper whirr up your body, Jungkook’s large hands splaying across your back to smooth out the waistline. 

“You of all people would know that being with Doyeon is a trip,” he chuckles into the crook of your neck, “I thought that was what love felt like. Being codependent, jumping through hurdles, trying so hard to please someone who can’t be pleased.” 

Jungkook’s hands wrap around your waist, hugging you tightly. He squeezes you and holds you like the most precious thing in the entire world. Through the mirror, you two are quite a pair. 

“But with you, I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.” 

“So… are you saying you love me?” you fight the urge to bounce around in his grip, the biggest smile on your face.  

“You really just want me to say ‘I love you’ and be done with it, huh?” 

Within seconds he’s pulling you from behind, whirling you around to the edge of the bed. He manages to flouce up your skirts to billow around his lap, sitting you down on his bare thighs. 

“You look like a cupcake, all sprawled up like this,” Jungkook says cutely, peppering kisses in a trail from your chest all the way to your lips. “You look like a huge, silvery cupcake and I love you. It’s so easy to love you.” 

Maybe it was kismet that Jungkook didn’t get to you first all those years ago. Maybe the right time is right here, right now. 

“I love you, too,” you say happily, dipping down to press a long, passionate kiss to his lips. He tastes like love and a happy future. When you pull away, you encapsulate his face in both your palms, regarding him like the sun and stars. “But you know, if we date you’ll never get away from my crazy family.” 

Jungkook snorts, pressing his forehead to yours, “And miss Yoongi re-marrying off your grandparents tonight, the next year of Seokjin and Namjoon running circles around each other, and a lifetime of happiness?” his hands snake under your dress, finding purchase in your soft skin, “not a chance.” 

[raekahwritings]

BNHA Gods AU - Thanatos - Shindou Yo

GODS AU! - What kind of shitty god are you?

Pairing: Shindou You x Reader

Rating: Explicit, NSFW, Minors, DO NOT ENTER.

Warning: NSFW, Mentions of non-consent, slight blood/gore/murder,slight yandere.

Word Count: 2016

Authors Note: This was written in one night, I really wanted to make it in time for this collaboration despite everything going on right now. I hope you all can forgive me since this wasn’t proof read but hopefully you all can enjoy the Gods!AU Shindou!

GODS!AU Collaboration: Please check out the collab here from @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten​

The age of gods was long over. They no longer walked this earth. No one worshipped them; they became the words of fiction and stories.

Let the gods guide you.

Live your life well and the gods may reward you.

Do not turn away from the path of good, lest the gods punish you.

Where were the gods when you needed them? When your mother had dressed you up as a pretty doll, when you smiled and jumped in the excitement of a new dress, and when she had shown you to a portly older gentleman. He took you, none-too-gently, and placed a bag of coins into your mother’s palm. She had left brusquely, curtly, and took care not to look you in the eyes.

How long had it been since then? Your childhood had gone by in the mess of yelling, screams, and scullery work. When you were old enough? You now lay on the floor with your clothing strewn apart, dried tears on your face and a voice hoarse from screaming.

This was a life where no gods deigned to visit—this was a place of vileness, sordidness, and loathsome men. You were nothing more than a commodity to them—they had no qualms about leaving you on this dirty floor.

God, you had prayed so many times. Save me.

You’d been delivered to them, lent like broken toy until they called the brothel master to fetch you.

You had been defiled too many times to believe that any God would help you now.

Where were you? What had they consecrated this time? They had laughed and they had jeered while you had cringed at the blasphemy they spewed. They had taken their belts to mark you, left you bleeding, and then poured acridly old liquid, “—better hope this fucking holy water works.”

“They would laugh at this.” You blinked away the tears, blinked to see the dormant idolatry of Thanatos nearby. You scrabbled at the ground, trying to find a perch to lay your hands on so you could get up. You winced at seeing the dried blood and spilt fluids. If there was a moment for Thanatos to judge you, this would be now.  

But would he?

Gods had come and gone, with nary a care. You tried to stand, tried to ignore the mess they had made, and you glared at the idolatry. “You didn’t stop this.” You pointed to the empty room – “You’re supposed to be some merciless, hateful god of death.” You scoffed, knowing it was pathetic. Here you were, reaching a level of desperation to talk to some useless piece of stone and an empty room like it would answer you. But all the resentment, anger, and bitterness spewed out – here and now— you hissing, “You’re a fucking piece of shit god.”

And yet.

“If my life was enough of a price, would you come here and now? Or am I too dirty for someone like you? You want a precious little girl, an innocent naïve little sheep?” You furiously took the idol, glaring before slamming it as hard as you could to the floor. Take that, you fucker.

You watched the idol shatter into pieces, the useless stone rolling away. You should fear your own blasphemy and yet… satisfaction had you feeling smug.

“My, my, that doesn’t seem very nice.”

Holy fuck. You whipped around—the room was empty. When had someone come in? You nearly screamed at the mysterious voice, your arms reaching out to blindly shove at the culprit while you stumbled backwards.

A masculine hand caught your arm, tsking at you and he emerged from the shadows with a disappointed look. You nearly fell backwards but his iron clasp had you standing upright.

“Who are you?” Shock and fear colored your tone, the smugness was fleeting as you look to the door, a door that hadn’t budged since the scraggle of men had left earlier. How did he get in? You looked at him, swallowing nervously, your gaze flitting up and down to make out this stranger in the darkness.

“You called me and yet, you still ask me?” He stepped further into the firelight… You looked up at this dizzyingly tall man, you could make out the messy, dark locks framing his chiseled face. But more so, you found yourself staring into eyes the color of pure jade. He was far too handsome, his features bold and brooding, the stubble on his face giving him a heathenish look. He was broad and lean, the muscles of his arms and chest visible through his disheveled shirt.

Someone who made you stop breathing.

“No.” You breathed— “You’re lying.” You called no one, he was here to take you back to the brothel, you tried to wrench your hand pathetically away. He couldn’t fool you, no matter how handsome he was.

“Calm down.” He pulled you into his chest, you were the one falling forward as he stopped your mewling struggles. You heard those words countless times; it had always preceded the acrid smell of chloroform…

“I don’t want to go back.” You choked out, letting your wrists fall slack. “I don’t want this.”

His voice lilted up, questioning. “Go back where?” You could almost believe the sincerity in his voice, the confusion, the perplexity of the situation. But people loved playing with you, toying with you in these games— men liked playing with women as if it were a game of cat and mouse. You curled your fingers into your palms, once again trying to suppress any kindle of hope—because you inevitably always were sold back.

Meanwhile, Thanatos, the god you had summoned with your blood, piety, and holy water—looked heavenwards in frustration. “Girl, speak your name.” He commanded—you answered obediently.

How? You didn’t mean to answer him.

“I am Thanatos. Now speak plainly. I’ve heard your desperate cry for help, for vengeance.” He leaned back against the stone table, tugging you into his lap. “Now can we dispense with the formalities? I’d much rather you call me Shindou instead.” You found yourself caged in—your chest against his bare one as he gestured for you to look up. “You summoned  me. And while I normally ignore mortals…” He let his hand fall loosely to your back—you stiffened, squirming—as his calloused fingers brushed against the filth on your skin, the torn scraps of fabric that hid nothing from his gaze.

“I was personally interested in this offering of yours.” You stilled. There had been no one in the room with you to hear your vitriol words—but this was the temple of Thanatos. Could it be?  “Oh. You don’t believe me?” You looked doubtful. Well he couldn’t blame you. His lips curved, expecting this reaction. He waved a hand in the air, letting the firelights flicker to black and purple flames, letting it dance across the room hauntingly for you. You watched transfixed. “But parlor tricks? A dime a dozen.” He said dismissively. He tapped the table, a prompt for the shadows around you to contort menacingly and snaking up your legs.

You jumped more into his arms, away from the strangely prying and invasive shadows as it crawled disturbingly high up your body.

“Girl, they’re simply an extension of me.” You could hear the humor in his tone, see the shadows snake away as he chuckled at your close contact with him. “But I suppose I can be nice for a bit.” He let the darkness recede and the orange firelight to flicker back.

“Now that’s settled, may I discuss your price?” You… took a moment to blink, to really focus on him. Something about him, the closer you were, was making your senses hazy. He seemed to realize, crooning gently to you. “Oh baby, I know gods are supposed to be tempting to mortals and all that but where’s the little spitfire that threw a little tantrum at me? I quite enjoyed it.”

The haze dissipated a bit. You… had thrown down the idolatry, you had committed blasphemy in the actual face of a god. You wanted to die, the shame overwhelming you. Thanatos—no, Shindou simply laughed though—“Baby, don’t think of me as one of the pious assholes. I don’t need you to prostrate yourself to me and those hopeless,” he waved at the ostentatious ornaments adorning the room, “piece of shit, ugly crap of me. I’m a lot more handsome in person, don’t you think?” You couldn’t disagree.

This kind of man—God, you corrected yourself—exuded charisma, aura, sexuality that vibrated with your own being. Like you were made for him, your body melted against his light touch.

“Demon got your tongue? I can fix that.” Shindou cradled the side of your face, leaning in to press a kiss. You gasped, giving him an opportunity for his tongue invade your mouth—ravishing and giving you no air to breathe. He reached down to anchor your hips against his, drawing you more into his lap and letting his hardness press into your dampened, slickened ache between your thighs.

But you were dirty and filthy. You pushed him, and he let you, you knew his strength far outstripped yours. “I can’t.” You shook your head. “You must’ve seen what happened…” It wasn’t just one disgusting man, it was many who had left you sticky and ruined with their fluids on your unwilling body.

Even now.

“Seriously? Shindou sighed. He tutted at you like a child—which as a mortal, you must’ve been. “I came all this way out for your offering, for this delectable and luscious body and you dare to impugn me with your sense of shame?” He cocked his head. “Like I didn’t know? All those men…” He parted your legs, let the sticky fluid drip. “All those men, and they didn’t break your spirit. You come to me, fiery and burning with revenge, and I answered your call. What could be more attractive than this?” Albeit… Shindou did frown. “I don’t care for those worms to mark what’s mine. I guess they all have to die, wont they?”

Your eyes widened… your words caught. You wanted to protest—the mocking feeling of horror should’ve come at the thought of such senseless murder and death…. But you could only feel the sense of relish, of pure desire to see the blood of your captors. You bit your lips, futilely trying to hide your anticipation and eagerness.

“Ah, that’s my girl. I knew you and I would get along.” Shindou pulled down the rags of your dress,  watched your nubile body pull close to his and you shivered—his hardness grinded against you—a god like this wanted you. You could hardly believe it. You whimpered as he bit down your throat, bit at the junction of your shoulders while you bled. He licked the bloody trail down your ample breasts, swirling his hot tongue around the hardened peaks and making you arch in muted pleasure.

“Oh no, you can’t stay quiet.” He let the shadowy tendrils return, let it wrap around your throat and craning your neck backwards. His hands traced over your slickened breasts, pinching, pulling, vibrating as you screamed in pleasure and pain. “Sounds quite nice.” He mused, condescendingly. His hands eventually travelled to your taut thighs, teasing the inside of them, and drawing them further apart.  His fingers brushed against the dirty cum—he didn’t care for it but he supposed he’d just have to fuck you enough so you’d be dripping with his own cum—all the more reason to cleanse this lustful, vengeful darling of a human.

He had waited for someone like you. Other gods deigned to have their innocent little virgins on their sacrificial alter.

He wanted a tainted, corrupted human whose lust rivalled their desire for revenge—a human he could turn into his little fuck toy of a god, one who would stand by his side as he ruled over mayhem, murder, and death. Preferably, begging for his cock and drunk on cum – not a bad start, he mused. Not a bad start.

[beyondspaceandstars]

Around You Neck

Bonus: Part 3

Relationship: Helmut Zemo x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, penetrative sex, fingering, dirty talk, exhibitionism, voyeurism, slight degradation, choking, slight metal arm kink - 18+, minors DNI Summary: Something was sparked inside you after Bucky let Zemo watch you two. Now you want to take it a little farther with Zemo but you also want Bucky there as a bit of a...guide. A/N: this was actually requested (see below)! I never, ever thought the original Around You Neck would be taken this far but it certainly has gone on a journey. You don’t technically need to read each part to understand this one but if you’d like to see the progression, please feel free. I hope this lives up to any and all expectations!

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2

As much as you didn’t totally want to admit it, you couldn’t stop thinking about Zemo. 

Ever since the sexual ventures you had partaken in with him and Bucky, your opinion on him had...shifted. While, no, you weren’t looking at him as some sort of romantic conquer (you were still very much dedicated to your boyfriend) you couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like for him to join again. Maybe this time a bit more...hands-on.

Truly, though, you never thought you were actually going to act on these ideas. In fact, you figured you hid your wandering mind pretty well. Some sneaky glances at Zemo and brushes of hands weren’t much to raise any alarms, especially when you were constantly in close proximity with said person. It truly didn’t get closer than being in their literal home. But you forgot to take into account the fact Bucky wasn’t exactly of normal human nature. His senses were dialed up to eleven - especially when you were in the room. 

Your shameful confession came out one afternoon. Bucky had heard you giggle at something Zemo had said and nearly punched a hole through the nearest wall before grabbing your arm. While nothing crazy, he did throw you into the nearest room with some force, anger practically emitting from him in waves.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He asked once the room to the door was shut. You backed away, quite surprised by the outburst, as Bucky stalked towards you, seething.

“W-What?”

“Don’t try to blame dumb with me,” he scoffed, arms folded with a pointed look on his face. “Why are you making googly eyes at Zemo?”

“Googly eyes-,”

Bucky cut you off. “And laughing like he’s the funniest fucking person on the planet? What game are you playing here, dear?”

That goddamn nickname made you cringe. Ever since Zemo restored to calling you that during the intimate encounter, Bucky hasn’t let it go, using it like some weapon. 

You shake your head, trying your best to play this off. Sure, you had some words of explanation for your boyfriend but you didn’t want it to come out right now. “I-I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t know what I’m talking about?” Bucky raised his brows in surprise. “So, you haven’t been shooting little glances at him? Or how about when your hand just so happens to end up on his shoulder? That’s definitely my favorite.” His tone was so lifeless. You gulped.

An awkward pause settled as you tried averting your gaze anywhere but at your annoyed boyfriend. This task proved to be impossible. “Bucky, please-,”

“You want to be with him, don’t you?” His question filled the room. “God, I knew this was going to happen. I never should’ve…”

You began shaking your head furiously. “Not in that way.”

“Not in that… Well then in what fucking way?”

You looked down at your hands, fiddling with your fingers anxiously. You took a deep breath. “I think we should… We should bring him into our, um, activities again.”

The silence that followed your confession was nerve-wracking. You didn’t have the guts to look at Bucky, just standing there patiently waiting on his response. The longer he stalled the more foolish you felt like you had actually cheated on him when that wasn’t anywhere near the truth. 

For a moment, you thought he wasn’t going to say anything, just storm out or something, but instead, he let out a nervous cough and asked, “In what way would you- would you want him to join us?”

You slowly gather the courage to face your boyfriend again. He looked genuinely curious, lacking any sort of rage you had assumed would be present. No, instead, he appeared interested, not even mocking you in any way. This all made you feel quite more comfortable about the truth getting out. You took a moment to recollect yourself and get your pounding heart under control.

“Well… I can’t deny that I want to sleep with him.”

“I knew it-,”

“But,” your voice raised, cutting off Bucky, “I want you there to sort of, like, l-lead him.”

Bucky cocked his head. “Lead him?”

You nodded, taking a few steps closer to your boyfriend, practically as close as you humanly could. “Tell him what to do, how to please me. Only you know that, honey.” You chuckled, placing a light hand on his chest. “Picture it: Another man wants to ravish me, but you… Only you know how to get me going. Only you know what I want, how to make me squirm. Only you can teach him and wouldn’t that just be…” Your words trailed off as your eyes fluttered shut at the thought, a soft moan leaving your lips. When you opened them again, Bucky was searching your face with great intensity. 

“You really want this, don’t you?” He asked. You shyly nodded. Bucky took a moment before continuing, “You want to be watched while you get fucked again?”

“Bucky…”

He let out a dangerous laugh. “My naughty little exhibitionist,” he shook his head, a knowing smirk playing at his lips now. You couldn’t believe he was coming around to the idea but the fact he was made your core already so wet. “Okay, doll. Let’s see what we can do.”

***

Bucky had decided to take the lead when it came to bringing this up with Zemo. Still ever such the dominant figure in your relationship, he instructed you to wait in the guest room you had been lent while he approached the Baron. 

Amazingly, you didn’t have to wait long. Within moments, your heart was dropping as the door to the room was pushed open by Bucky. Zemo followed swiftly behind with an unreadable expression.

Both men stopped at the foot of the bed, right in front of you. You looked up at them, curiously.

“So - So did you explain…”

“James did enlighten me with your...desires,” Zemo said, a little smirk playing on his lips. “I must say, dear. You are quite the little minx.”

Your jaw went slack at his words, unsure of what to say. Only Bucky liked calling you that. But you certainly didn’t hate it rolling off Zemo’s tongue like that. 

“Maybe you should cool it with the pet names,” Bucky snapped. 

Zemo glanced at him. “I don’t know, James, she seems to enjoy it.”

You clenched your thighs, unable to deny it. Bucky didn’t miss that little movement but chose to not acknowledge it. 

“I’m taking the lead here and if I say no pet names then there are no pet names,” Bucky said, his voice slow and serious as he stared down Zemo. “Got it?” You couldn’t believe the sight in front of you. Nothing had even explicitly happened yet and there was already a puddle forming in your panties. 

“Very well,” Zemo eventually agreed. Slowly, right in front of you, he began removing articles of his clothing. This was happening. “How would you like me then?”

“I-,”

Bucky cut you off. “When you’re done, undress her.” Zemo didn’t say anything but just nodded, stripping down until he was in all his bare glory right in front of you. You tried to not stare, focusing instead strictly on his face which held the tiniest smirk, as he began teasingly running his hands under the fabric of your shirt. 

You couldn’t believe how hot you were finding this. Your control was pretty much gone, all solely in the trust of Bucky and Zemo. A diabolical pair. You obeyed when Zemo motioned for you to lift your arms. Within no time, you were totally open and bare in front of the men. 

Zemo’s hand lingered on your face, stroking your cheek softly. You gasped at the motions. He came close to running his thumb along your lips but then Bucky spoke up, “Enough. Lay her down.” 

Zemo didn’t waste another second pushing you back onto the bed. He was crawling on top of you in no time, not waiting for another command before capturing your lips with his. It felt like a brand new world. His movements in the kiss, deep and powerful, were so unlike Bucky’s. Bucky’s had meaning, years of love behind them. There was nothing like that with Zemo, just the understanding of what you’re here to do. It took your breath away. 

Bucky scoffed when you two pulled apart. “I’ll let that slide for now. Start warming her up, touch her. It won’t take much, though. Can already see she’s dripping onto the sheets.”

Your cheeks burned at the borderline degrading words from your boyfriend but Zemo didn’t look phased. Instead, while one hand was planted next to your head, his other began running up and down you. His fingers were so light and teasing. They ran over your breast, pulling lightly at your skin, earning a surprised gasp from you. Zemo looked quite pleased with himself as he continued, his hand now making its way lower on your body. He stopped just above the apex of your thighs, hovering temptingly.

“Touch her,” Bucky commanded, his voice strained and...needy? You didn’t have much time to think too hard about it before Zemo was plunging two fingers right into your core, the wetness allowing the easiest of access. You cried out in surprise earning a low chuckle from Zemo. He seemed quite amused by how vocal you could be.

“Feel good?” He asked, mockingly. His fingers curled within you as they pumped in and out, your walls clenching around them desperately. You nodded weakly. 

Bucky groaned. “Touch her clit. Now.”

Zemo happily complied. The palm of his hand began pressing against your clit with every thrust, forcefully. At one point, he stilled his fingers in you, giving your clit his full, undivided attention. You yelped, twisting at the overwhelming sensation of the fingering and circling. 

Pleasure was running through you at an almost unbearing amount. It all escalated when your head lolled to the side and your eyes fell on Bucky. He was leaning against the wall across from the bed, hands fisted at his side, erection clearly pressing against the fabric of his pants. His gaze was hard, his pupils wide. He was watching so intensely yet with just the littlest hint of wonder. It hit you - Bucky was starting to actually enjoy this.

Zemo, on the other hand, wasn’t happy he lost your attention. A rough hand came up to your neck, forcing you to look back at him. He roughly pressed his forehead to yours, not letting your eyes wander even in the slightest. All you could do was stare back at his eyes while he fucked you relentlessly with his fingers. 

“Eyes on me,” Zemo gritted. 

“Watch yourself, Zemo,” Bucky snapped back.

Zemo’s grip on your neck got tighter and you were done for. That fucker really knew your weak points. The fingering was skilled but the grip on your throat... your body couldn’t take it all. You yelled out as your orgasm ran through you, your body jerking in response to it all. Zemo didn’t lighten anything up, though, forcing you to take it all until you were practically clawing at him, begging to stop. 

“That’s enough,” Bucky shouted. Zemo gave a dangerous chuckle before removing his fingers, licking each one as if they were a meal to be savored. But Bucky wasn’t close to being intimidated by the other man as he continued his commands, “I’d fuck her now if I were you. She’s getting antsy.”

“I think she’s always antsy,” Zemo sneered. “Maybe I want to make her wait a bit longer. Make her really cherish it.”

Your eyes were still forcefully locked on Zemo until Bucky stomped towards the bed and grabbed the man by the back of his neck, hoisting him away from you. His hand left your throat unwillingly. 

In a chilling tone you don’t think you ever heard from Bucky before, he whispered in Zemo’s ear, “I’m making the calls, Zemo, remember? You’re obeying me. If I say fuck her, then you fuck her.” He pushed the man back down, his head falling to the crook of your neck. When he regained his strength, Zemo pulled away to look at you. An unsettling smile played on his lips.

“As you wish,” he muttered and, in one swift, he entered you. Fully. No true warning. You gasped in utter shock at the boldness. You hadn’t expected it to take a moment or two for you to adjust to him. He was different from what you were used to with Bucky. Bucky had the length, but Zemo had the girth. He was stretching you in a whole new way and once you were past the shock, you soaked in all of it. 

Zemo just halted inside you, waiting for you to face him. You hadn’t even realized your eyes had closed until you were being forced to reopen them. Once you gave a little nod - your way of begging at this point - Zemo began moving in and out. His pace was strong, so determined.

He must’ve seemed like a man deprived because Bucky barked out, “Slower. Now you can let her wait for it. Let her feel it. She gets so needy sometimes she just has to be taught some patience.”

Reluctantly, Zemo complied, slowing his motions. You couldn’t even imagine the power-high Bucky must’ve been on at that moment. But you didn’t have much time to think about it as Zemo began dragging his full length out of you and reentering slowly, just as instructed. You moaned loudly as the pleasure built. 

“You like that? Huh? Sure sounds like it,” Zemo grunted in your ear. “You make the prettiest little noises.”

Your eyes fluttered shut once more as you weakly nodded. But your chance to get lost in the sensations was interrupted by Bucky. Suddenly, he was at the side of the bed, his metal hand coming around your neck and turning your head to face him now. 

“Use your words, doll,” he whispered, his eyes never leaving your worn-out expression. Your body jolted with each of Zemo’s thrusts. Bucky paid no mind to the other man, keeping his focus on you and continuing, “Tell him how you’re feeling. It feels good, doesn’t it? Do you like having another man fuck you while I watch? I gotta admit, when you first brought it up I was hesitant but you’re right. There is something about knowing what you need. What makes your little pussy all fucking wet. He may be on top of you but I’m the one controlling your pleasure. You scream for me.”

“Yes, Bucky, yes” was all you could chant as everything began boiling up inside you. 

Here you were screaming one man’s name while the other pounded you. There was the hand on your throat - the metal hand. Zemo taking his sweet time delivering his thrusts. The little pressure on your clit every time he’d push in you. Both of the men were only paying attention to you… It was so much at once yet exactly what you needed. Within seconds of Bucky finishing his little monologue, you were cumming hard around Zemo’s cock. It must’ve triggered something in Zemo as well because he wasn’t that far behind. 

“Faster,” Bucky suddenly demanded. “Until she can’t take it anymore.” 

Zemo sure wasn't hesitating on this one. You felt him fill you fully while his thrusts didn’t falter. He was making sure you two were fucked good. You clawed at Bucky’s arm, wanting something to hold onto as you rode out the orgasm. He kept his grip on your throat tight and careful, watching you with those overwhelming eyes as you came on another man’s cock. 

After a couple more weak thrusts, Zemo gave a final strong one before pulling out of you completely, making you whimper. Zemo gave you a soft smile before placing a kiss on your forehead. Once calmed down, he turned his serious self once again and began reclaiming his clothing items. You couldn’t believe how he could just turn it all on and off with a flip of a switch as if you weren’t lying on the bed fucked out mostly because of him. But that was what you had felt from him. It was all just about finding pleasure. And you both were successful.

Bucky didn’t pay any attention to the other man’s actions. He was still locked on you. His hand had left your throat now and was now caressing your cheek. You giggled at the softness, such a stark contrast to just moments before. 

Fully dressed now, Zemo cleared his throat, pulling you and Bucky’s attention away from one another. You glanced over at the man. He nodded to you both. “Thank you for the...invitation,” Zemo said. “Better than I could’ve ever imagined.” With that, he promptly exited as powerful and bold as he had entered. 

You were alone with Bucky now, unsure of what to actually say. 

“Did you enjoy yourself, doll?” Bucky eventually broke the silence. “Better than you could’ve ever imagined?”

You playfully rolled your eyes. His little tinge of jealousy was coming back despite being thoroughly turned on. Which reminded you… 

“I did enjoy myself,” you confirmed. “But I think I could have just a little bit more fun.” Regaining your strength, you shifted to a kneeling position on the bed. Your hand began creeping its way up Bucky’s jean-covered thigh to where his erection was still being strained against the material.

Bucky let out a low chuckle as your hand pressed over his covered cock. “You just don’t know when to quit, huh? My insatiable little girl.”

You blushed. “I just want to make sure you enjoyed yourself.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea.”

[yandere-wishes]

Sacrificial Bride Part 1//Twisted Wonderland X Reader//

Alright well, that's enough writing for the next few days if you excuse me I'm going to go sulk in my corner. Huge thanks to @softyswork​ who’s story about reader being sent to Malleus as a bride inspired this series. Also, I REALLY want to make some sort of modern-day Frankenstein it would be an amazing scientific breakthrough! You'll understand what I mean when you get to Idia's part lol.

💚🐉Malleus Draconia🐉💚

It was a common rumor around your village that ever since the death of the sleeping princess your settlement had never been the same. For you, this was nothing more than a fairy tale meant to spark a scrap of hope in the hearts of naive, suffering children who were still too young to fully understand why their fathers never returned from their hunting trips or why there was barely anything to eat for dinner.

Every time you heard this dreaded tail, you couldn't help but scuff. For as long as you've been alive your town had been in utter disarray and chaos. Monsters from the woods -what the town's folk called "fae"- attacked the village daily. Stealing jewels, destroying homes, sometimes even swallowing children or sucking the blood of the dormant. There was also the looming threat of the green flames. Blazing emerald fires who couldn't be subdued by neither water nor dirt. They advanced further into the territory of the village by each full cycle of the moon. Leaving behind in their trail, thick impenetrable thorn bushes that had taken the homes of many and the lives of many more.

Awful, dreaded creatures those fae where...

But alas you did not yet know just how cruel they could be.

On another periodic morning, your younger sister jolted you awake, dragging you to the town center before you got a chance to change out of your nightgown.

In the center of the square was short man..no...not a man you noticed his pointed drawn back ears. "Fae" you gasped under your breath. But unlike the monstrous fairies that ravished your town taking on the appearances of trees and woodland creatures, this one resembled a boy of 15. The young-looking male began to speak, his voice was clear like crystals, and to his tone bats began to flock overhead. "Truly dreadful, these fairy folk are" your sister uttered in terror as she buried her face in your side.

"Heed my words, mortals. The young prince of thorns has decided to take a wife. By the setting of the sun a full day from today, two of his guards will come to collect your offering. If you chose to disregard this Wa-- friendly advice, then what is left of your town will be decimated before the end of summer. Your children eaten, wives imprisoned and husbands killed!" An unsteady hush rippled through the crowd. Some hothead youths began to throw rocks at the stranger only for the bats hovering above to shield him from the stones. Mothers hugged their children close begging for the man to "just leave".

"If" the man's voice rose once more like a cadaver emerging from the grave " my young master is pleased with your sacrifice than we shall reward you! Bring good health and prosperity to your otherwise sick and decaying village." His last words melted into the open air before he vanished in a cloud of squealing bats and ebony smoke.

The town's folk erupted in screeches, cursing at their deities while simultaneously praying to any god that would listen.

"Help us!"

"save us!"

"Don't let them take our daughters!"

The screams escalated to the point where you had to cover your ears with your shaking hands. Your eyes scanning each of the villager's faces, a pathetic lot they were, you thought to yourself. Scared by the words of a young magician. In a flash, your heart sped up, adrenaline pumping through your veins, as you marched to the center square where the boy had been mere moments ago. You stood tall, cupping your hands over your mouth.

"Listen well you disquiet, mindless lot!"

All eyes turned to you. Some holding looks of confusion, whilst others harbored glances of hope.

"This fae is lying! No way will they be satisfied with just one measly girl! No matter who we sacrifice to their so-called master, they'll still come after us! They'll still destroy our village! Let's not be stupid! Let's find a way to barricade the city instead of arguing over who to sacrifice!"

For an endless second all was quite. It was like the world had stopped turning, frozen in its place in the universe trying to decide what to do.

Then it happened,

Chants reverberating through the air

"Sacrifice her!" "Sacrifice her!"

"Sacrifice her!" "Sacrifice her!"

"Sacrifice her!"........................

WHAT!

NO!

DID THOSE MORONS NOT LISTEN TO A SINGLE WORD YOU SAID!

The crowd started advancing. Eyes locked on your figure like those of a leopard on its prey.  Their mouths were all a gap, chanting the words "sacrifice" over and over again. From behind the mob, your eyes locked with your sister's. You could practically feel the despair rolling off her figure as she covered her eyes and fell to her knees, her whole body rattling with a sort of distant rage...

A full day....it's funny how time passes all so quickly no matter what you do. Day in and day out nothing changes, pain is still pain, laughter is still laughter. Time just keeps slipping from between your fingers like sand. Even in the direst of times, Time doesn't show mercy, never once does it cease. It just ticks and ticks away until the inevitable moment arrives.

Your sister and aunt -the only two relatives that you hadn't lost to the fae- were in charge of preparing you for your so-called "wedding". Since your town was poor and isolated from other civilizations there wasn't much they could do to enhance your beauty. Smashing some berries to add color to your lips -and fervently ravishing the remains- using some coal to add shade behind your eyes, as well as around them and patting the dust of rose petals against your cheek. By the end, you hardly recognized the person staring back from the mirror. Sure the adjustments were minor but this was the most stunning you'd ever looked. "Is it almost time" your voice quivered, failing to hide the tears that began to fall. "Please don't cry sweetheart, we don't have any more coal to fix your eyes with." Your aunt's tone was monotone almost bordering on heartless. You couldn't really blame her, she'd gotten so used to having her loved ones plucked from her. One more would be no different. Sniffing as to keep the tears at bay, you nodded slowly. Your glossy eyes locked with your aunt's you could see the same fear and exhaustion in her fading irises as the night her son was slaughtered in front of her.

"Just a few reminders" your sister's voice was cheery like the chirping of early morning birds, but her face mimicked that of a kicked puppies. "Remember when the prince...fae...when he..you know...Oh, Lord please tell me he won't" She was shivering again. Her face twisted in horror. You knew what she was thinking, she was imagining you laying in the bed of that...that thing. She was imagining him entering you, kissing up and down your neck. Leaving patches of red skin over smooth flesh, bruises wherever his clawed hands touched you. She was imagining what was no doubt going to happen to you tonight...

the mere thought made bile rise to your throat.

"Darling, just keep saying how much you like it. It's all any man wants to hear." again your aunt or rather her lackluster form of speech was the rope binding you to your sanity.

"Do fae even have...those parts like humans do?" Your sister asked, only to be met with a glare from your aunt. "Stop wasting time on pointless questions! Hurry up and see if this dress fits your sister."

Sure enough, as you were escorted to where the thorn bushes met the village, two men, one standing tall and proud, whilst the other looked like he may topple over from fatigue at any moment, were awaiting you.

The green-haired man let out a haughty laugh, his blazing eyes scanning you from head to toe. "She's hardly worthy of the young master!" His dreadful voice was like the booming of thunder clouds. "It doesn't matter, Malleus-sama needs to be wedded off quickly so he can produce an heir. None of us are getting any younger by standing here debating the "worthiness" of yet another measly human" the silver-haired male's voice was the exact opposite of his comrades, his voice was soft and breathy like light drizzle after a storm.

The green-haired man looked ready to argue once more, but before he could open his mouth, his violet-eyed counterpart waved something thin in the air casing a pathway to open between the hedges.

It was dark between the brambles. The air was thick, stuffy, every breath was a struggle. Although it seemed neither of your traveling buddies minded the discomfort. Did fae even need air to survive?

After what could have been no less than a couple of hours, your small group made it to a large clearing where only a few rays of the sun leaked through the thick smoky clouds. Miss matched flowers in shades of grey littered the rocky barren ground. Maybe at some point, this place had been beautiful, stunning even...but whenever that time had been it was long gone now.

As you ventured farther into this monochrome land of loss and sorrow, the three of you approached a castle. It towered over everything else, grim in all its glory. "Young master Malleus is awaiting you inside..." The green-haired male's voice trailed off as his speech was interrupted by the deafening creaking of the doors parting open. Without another word the two men dragged you inside, pushing you through spiral staircases and long bleak passageways. Until you arrived at a lavish-looking room, a large throne sitting smugly in the front of the room. It's black, spiked appearance was enough to make you gasp in horror, you didn't desire to meet the monster that perched atop that throne. "Don't be so afraid." the silver-haired man whispers, his head is almost resting on your shoulder. "Malleus-sama is kind and fair. He is sure to love you better than any human ever could." you catch a hint of nostalgic sadness in the last part, like a long lost part of the lavender eyed boy's past caught in his throat like a glass shard.

Trumpets roared through the room blaring as two men, one short and fickle whilst the other tall and brooding walked in. "Malleus~" The short one sang as they both stopped in front of you "Say hello to your lovely new wife." the tall man's emerald eyes landed on you. His lips parted in a threatening smile...or maybe it was a smirk? He didn't seem to be too good at displaying emotions. Slowly he descended onto one knee, slipping your hand into his and kissing the top lightly.

"Hello, my darling little wife."

🧡🦁Leona Kingscholar🦁🧡

The After Glow Savanna was an absolute hell to be born in if your family did not belong to some royal inner court class. The endless days spent scavenging for scraps of food, walking miles for a simple glass of water, had become a sort of broken, habit beaten into the residents of the smaller less fortunate districts.

Eventually, you too would follow in your parent's footsteps, working odd jobs around the neighborhood, getting married to some guy, having kids, and giving them the same dreary life your parents had given you. It was simple -miserable- but simple never the less. In an odd way, you found a sort of comfort in how everything was set in stone. How you'd suffer through a few years then die of starvation or some disease in your husband's arms.

But little did you know that the only comfort you had in your horrible life was also going to be swiped from you.

When Ruggie, a dear childhood friend of yours returned from his prestigious school for the winter holidays you were overjoyed! A week with your best friend was the greatest gift you could ask for! But that excitement soon dulled when he announced to the neighborhood what the royal family had planned for the underdeveloped parts of the country.

"They want to demolish the homes and build parks and shopping strips instead"

The people of your tiny community gasped, shock and hopelessness mixing over their dirty, worn out faces. Some older siblings shielded the ears of their younger kin, some mothers hugged their children closer to their chests. "They can't do that to us!" Your voice was like a beacon through the thick fog of confusion. "We can't let them!" You turned to Ruggie who was seated next to you. His blue-grey eyes held a foreign sadness that you had never seen before. He was hiding something...something so grim that he was forced to shove it into the depths of his soul, locking it up and throwing away the key.

"There is a way..."

For such a hopeful phrase, Ruggie's tone harbored no happiness. You could practically see the tears that were clouding his beautiful eyes. "Tell us" someone from the crowd demanded, others soon joined in with their own chants. For a long moment, Ruggie said nothing, the shouts of despair falling on deaf ears.

"If.." his voice trailed off, as his gaze grew distant.

"If someone from the neighborhood were to marry the second prince..." Gasps of fear filled the air. Even the mere mention of the second prince's name was enough to send chills down people's spins.

"Then they could, as the newly appointed  princess, convince the royal family and counsel to scrap this monstrous plan." No one uttered another word. No one was brave enough to face the man who could destroy anything with a simple touch.

But the sake of these people, people who had nothing but their families and a muddy roof over their head was on the line.

Do something, a tiny voice in your head screamed, save them, it begged. You shifted your head so to get a glimpse of Ruggie's face. "I-" you began but were cut off before you could even finish.

"I know you would say that."

His voice broke over every syllable. He knew you would give up your depressing nostalgia for the sake of others. Life in the castle would be hell, being married to that monster would be something worst than the dwellings of the devil.

It was a speedy arrangement, so fast that your head didn't have time to process anything. In the end, it almost seemed like the royal family was desperate to find a spouse for their youngest son.

Just marry him! Was what all the absentee looks told you.

Early that morning, Ruggie had dragged you to the castle, all tears, and grumbles. The palace guards let him in with no restrain, it almost felt like he'd been here before. Your childhood friend led you to a room in the further corner of a grand hall. He told you to stay outside as he went in to chat with the prince. Moments later the newly appointed king and queen came to usher you into a privet room and discuss the marriage. Not an hour later your fate had been sealed, you'd be married off to prince Leona tomorrow at sunrise. For "historical purposes" your neighborhood would be preserved and even taken care of. 'Historical purposes' you thought 'more the like a bribe to get you to marry this beast.

that night you were dragged this way and that by the queen herself. Taken for fitting after fitting. Trying on hundreds of wedding dresses who's prices could feed every mouth in your neighborhood for months! "Leona isn't very classy" the queen sighed in disappear. "He would probably prefer you to be in something laxer, shorter if you will" the tailors ran around trying to find something that would fit her vague description, as you stood facing her royal highness.

"What's he like?" you asked soullessly

"Spoiled, although not as heartless as the rumors make him out to be"  She didn't seem to like giving straight answers

"will he harm me? It was an honest question, although the lack of thinking it took before the queen replied made your heart skipped a beat.

"Quite possibly, he is rather...aggressive at times. Just don't let his degrading comments get to you. He's not used to being around people"

The more she described the second-born prince the more it seemed she was actually speaking of some feral dog that had raised in isolation.

Oh, how doomed you were.

The wedding was even faster than the preparation. Ruggie walked you down an aisle of flowers, walking over the petals, killing them once and for all, ending their pointless existence. You stood by your self at the altar awaiting your husband to be. It took a rather long time before the doors were flung open and the king waltzed in carrying his struggling brother under his arm. "No need to worry, Leona was taking one of his catnaps again and forgot about today's events" the king announced, in what could only be described as a mock lively tone.

How on earth does someone forget their wedding! This prince really wasn't a typical human...heck you where beginning to think that the feral dog would have made a better groom.

snap, snap

A few magazine pictures here, a couple of family photos there...

Everything was so bright and loud...

right before you and the second prince were thrown into the darkness of his room. In the obscurity, you could ONLY make out the glowing of his emerald eyes.

You could feel him shifting closer, all the while you took shaking steps backwards. " I thought wives were supposed to leap into the arms of their husbands? Tell me little herbivore do I frighten you?"

Your voice refused to leave your throat, too afraid to come into contact with the prince.

"What's the matter? Did they not teach you to speak in on the streets you grew up on. Poor thing~"

Leona pounced across the room, tackling you to the ground. His sheer weight pinning you to the carpeted floor. The sound of fabric tearing echoed through the silence.

How careless these royal were was the only intelligible thought that came to your frenzied brain.

Goosebumps littered your skin as Leona's claws cut into your flesh. His lips kissed over each wound as he made his way up to your cherry painted lips.

"You look so cute, you know, like a little mouse about to get devoured by a starving lion."

💙💀Idia Shroud💀💙

The rhythm of his heartbeat was slowing down, it felt like the patter of ants atop one's flesh. He was dying...this was an irreversible fact. The love of your life was dying and there was nothing you could do but sit idly by and watch the life fade from his pale bruised face. Your thumb ran over his knuckles in robotic-like strokes. Hours had passed, you'd shed all the tears that you had. He was gone...that was all there was to it.

For a hopeless second, you flicked your eyes to the open window on the opposite side of the room, There was never any sun on the island of lamination but regardless today seemed brighter than any other day. "How cruel" you muttered in a deadpan voice. Outside something...or better yet...someone was running through the fields, chasing what looked like a butterfly. The young child had blazing blue hair a symbol of the Shroud family...

THE SHROUD FAMILY

Your breath hitch in your lungs, your heart began to pound furiously in your chest. They could help you though hopefully. There family where distant relatives of the god of the underworld and a few years back -to your regulation- the hair of the family had been able to semi revive his younger brother. If he was able to bring back a child from the dead than surly they would have no problem returning your lost lover to you.

Your eyes waltz over his dormant face one last time before you got up and ran for the door.

"This is all for you my love, all of this is for you"

The Shroud family mansion was located at the top of one of the many hills that plagued the island. It was a dark grisly building that resembled the castles from old tales, where monsters laid dormant. Rumors spiraled around the rural civilization, some saying that the family was cursed by the lord of the dead, whilst others claimed that the shroud family were the long lost descendants of the lord of the dead and the maiden of spring. The curse had been placed on the family by the temperamental mother of the maiden of spring, anathematizing the family to be plagued with death and disappear for the rest of eternity.

Regardless of what their misfortune was, they may very well be the last people on earth who could help you. Surely if the family had brought back their youngest than they could bring back your lover!

You knuckles tapped furiously at the old metal doors of the frightful residence. The rhythm was unkept, unsteady, it's mere sound radiated urgency.

"PLEASE HELP ME"

Your throat burned as you screamed out those three lousy words.

After what felt like forever, the doors cracked open, revealing a tall man obscured by the shadows. Any light that touched the interior of the house seemed to die acidity, making peering inside nearly impossible.

"What business do you have?" The man's voice was croaky as if his vocal cords hadn't been used in years. For a split second, you closed your eyes, trying to organize the thoughts in your head. "My...my...h-hus...lover, my lover is d-dead...o-or rather he is dying....probably fully gone by now..." despite the mess of stuttered letters and mixed-up words, the man seemed to understand your situation. With a long sigh, he pulled you into the somber house.

Fingers still wrapped tightly around your wrist he pulled you around, guiding you through the darkness until you reached a large room lit only by the mysterious blue flames of the fireplace. Sitting by the warmth was a...well it was hard to tell, her face -despite it displaying every bone of her visage coupled with dark sunken eyes- resembled that of a woman no older than thirty, whilst her body resembled a decaying skeleton. What was she? Was she the lady of the residence or yet another monster this bizarre family had created.

"My, love" the man began to speak, his voice was somehow cleared like it had been given some sort of jolt. "This young lady needs Idia's help, she wants to bring back her lover from the dead."

The woman said nothing, her eyes staring ahead, burning a hole in the wall right by your head. "What will she give him in return" despite her "deteriorating" appearance her voice was like soft silk on one's skin, melodious and fair.

"Why herself!" This time the man's voice boomed across the house, echoing through the hallways and falling on you like a cave in.

"M-myself! What the hell do you mean!"

"It sounds fair" the women agreed "my darling sweet son saves your lover and instead you agree to marry him! Oh how wonderful, just like in the tales about grandfather Hades!"

She seemed too thrilled about this, her snow-white eyes gleaming with a sort of delusional passion.

"Idia! Idia honey! Come down your father has a surprise for you!"

The hollow sound of footsteps soon filled the quiet air. Followed by another soft blue glow.

Was there no normal fire in this house?

But it wasn't fire, not exactly. When your eyes fell on the heir of the Shroud family, you suddenly felt a nervous wave crash over you. There was something -even more- unsettling about him, he looked nothing like his charming little brother. For one his hair wasn't...well hair! Sure you'd expect a small batch of blazes heading upwards but this was something else entirely! It resembled a large bonfire that floated towards the ground, rouge sparks falling in every which direction, sizzling and then dying abandoned on the floor. And his eyes, Miosis like pupils floating around in a pool of lemon yellow.

But all the physical appearances aside, the most unsettling thing about him was the gloomy aura that leaked off him, suffocating anyone in his presence. Nervously you took a step back only to be yanked forward again by the taller man.

"Idia baby!" His mother ran over to him, cradling his hands in hers "This cute young lady has agreed to marry you if you can save her lover, just like in that old tale about your great grandfather! Oh, my this is all so romantic!"

It seemed like no one here understood that you were in love WITH SOMEONE ELSE! Or maybe they did and chose to disregard it. Instead, using the bits they retained as kindling to feed their raw excitement. You shifted your gaze back to Idia's face. To your utter terror, he was...smiling? Could that...look...even be called a smile? It seemed more like the way a shark would bare its teeth at a defenseless seal! Oh, gods please don't let this...thing...be your future husband!

"It should be easy enough," His golden gaze landed on you "W-when did...did he die?" it took a few moments before you register that he was talking to you or technically asking you something. "A...A  few..." your voice cracked, tears streaming down your eyes.

"So recently...okay that shouldn't be a p-problem." He turned on his heels and walked back into the seclusion of the halls "I'll grab some things and meet you by the front door"

A few things ended up being a pile of wires and bolts. Something that looked like a light blue ball of energy and so many tools whose names seemed to go over your head.

Idia was kneeling by your lover's bed, pulling apart the skin and fusing metal in its place. Your darling's chest was cracked open, his ribs poking out towards the sky as if praying for life from the lord of the sky. Every once in awhile Idia would pull out a long tool with smoke floating from the top. He'd lay it on an organ watching as the tissue fiber sizzled away under the heat. He would then tie wires and small circular batteries inside.

"His heart stopped working, I'm guessing from some sort of shock"

You just hummed in response, too caught up in how the man you loved was beginning to look like a modern-day Frankenstein rather than a human being.

The sun had long since faded when Idia finally got up from his spot. His bones cracked and screeched at the sudden change, his muscles giving out halfway leaving him to rely on the wall for support to stand. Your lover's chest had been sewn back and covered with a silver piece of metal. His neck was wrapped in the same sort of alloy. His left arm had been cut open so Idia could shove the energy ball inside than cover it, leaving a small enough gap for wires that stretched from his chest to weld into the ball.

"He just needs a boost" Idia murmured that shark-like grin overtaking his pale face once more. From the side table, he plucked up to jumper cables and clipped them on either side of his neck. Jolts and crackles filled the room and sparks flew in every direction, the once-dead body shuffled around, arms and legs moving at random. You shrieked and duck behind Idia.

Only then did he pry the clips from his neck.

Nothing

for too long nothing happened... then there was a slight wiggle in one finger, then another. His eyes slowly began to prey open, looking over his surroundings. The moment his confused gaze feel onto you. Idia turned you around to face him, clumsily smashing his blue chapped lips onto yours.

From the corner of his eyes, Idia watched as the other man began to understand what was happening...even if he was just resurrected there was still agony at the sight of his lover kissing another...

Good! That should show him who you belonged to now!

[theredsuzuran]

Douma x reader - Innocence

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Took me a long time to upload a new content am so sorry for the delay I was really busy with school assignments therefore I cannot manage the time to write. I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors on my behalf, I hope you enjoy.

Warning : Dark themes like gore, blood and violence, degradation and swearing, mature content.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moon shone brightly above the sky as it's light leak through the branches illuminating the famous building of the eternal paradise cult. A new set of followers rushed into the dwelling in hopes of fulfilling their selfish desires, diminishing their agonies and enriching their possessions. However a particular human with her tattered kimono seem not to be interested to convey anything although the people around her would die to witness even a glimpse of the charismatic leader as for now she was busy running along the wide long corridors

The sound of thumping footsteps echoed throughout the building as a herd of followers attempted on catching the miscreant who disrupted the peaceful atmosphere prevailing over the supreme cult. The already annoyed and frustrated people were all worked up to catch the energetic human who on the other hand have thoughts of escaping this place they called paradise. If only she was careful enough to notice her mother's strange behavior soon as they entered the place but how can you possibly blame an innocent little girl like her, or so she thought. Afraid she might lose sight of her treacherous mother who abandoned her just moments ago she desparety stumbled her way out although that didn't concerned her simple thinking process but that's exactly how complicated the situation was.

Turning one last time to look behind if those weird people were still following her or not when suddenly she bumped into a Tall muscular figure standing infront of her soft delicate frame she must have missed him approaching while focusing on looking behind. "Please just leave me alone!" The girl fumed coherently still overwhelmed by the amount of people rushing towards her like waves something that she was not accustomed with as for eighteen years she lived indoors interacting rarely with anyone and playing with dolls most of the time.

"Watch your tongue brat" one of the men standing beside the tall man spoke with disgust hinted in his voice. "Crouch down you insolent woman, where's your gratitude it's because of lord Douma's benevolence that you are still here or you'd be rotting in the street thanks to your mother", the people around her started whispering and murmuring behind her back but she was not bother since her senses were filled with newfound wrath how dare they insult your angel like mother? No longer able to contain your anger you shouted with tears "Then take me to my mother, I don't want to stay here alone".

"Your mother abandoned you here so shut up and deal with it, now move your way for master" the man grunted irritatedly motioning the other followers to grab her and take her away.

"No don't touch me" she wiggled under their grip rushing towards douma blocking him from entering the room by grabbing his arm tightly "I am not going anywhere until I know where my mother is" she cried loudly making the demon flinch with surprise, how pitiful the creature looked in his polychromatic eyes. He have seen many humans crying before him for obvious reasons which honestly have become his monotonous routine but somehow this girl acted quite weird being her age, interesting him enough to investigate. As he was about to speak the man beside him pushed the girl hashly making her lose her balance and fall on the wooden floor.

"How dare you touch master with your filthy hands bitch" he lift his hand to slap her tight in the face but someone grabbed his wrist just in time to save the girl from further humiliation.

"Silence" all the questioning glances, judging looks and whispering stopped at once as douma spoke nonchalantly making the latter shiver in regret.

"I am sorry douma sama" the man uttered in pure horror having no intentions to displease his beloved lord. "I was-"

"I don't want to see that happen again, understood?" He replied coldly still maintaining his wide smile as the previous chaos shifted into complete hush. The man lowered his head down with shame nodding silently. Douma averted his attention and glanced at the figure underneath making the girl jolt a bit but his once frightening demeanor changed into a cheerful and optimistic one in matter of second upon seeing her.

"Please take her to my chamber and treat her wounds" the man clapped with a wide grin plastered on his face. A group of female servants came rushing to help picking her up. The girl being too bewildered did not protested and simply follow his tone as if she was hypnotized by his neatly decorated persona.

The girl was immediately taken away without delay and as per douma he needed to attend his cult duties. First of all she was washed and changed into a beautiful kimono as soon as she stepped inside, then she was escorted into a room filled with antiques and lavish items which she have never seen. Her face lit up with fascination as she began venturing those decorative pieces.

"Looks like you have ease down a bit, good good" A familiar tone struck in her ears startling her a bit only to turn back and view the handsome cult leader although it was a bit strange because she did not heard anyone approaching.

"Aww did I scared you?" He laughed covering his face with golden fans.

"No I was just- you came in without a warning, I was taken aback" she explained blushing trying her best not to act immature to which douma laughed uncontrollably as he found this human's expression adorable say entertaining in his words.

"D-dont laugh at me" she pouted crossing her arms in the attempt.

"I am sorry (y/n), you really amuse me" he replied still grinning. However there was a moment of awkward silence between them as he uttered her name abruptly.

"I didn't tell you my name.." after a long pause she replied to him with a confuse look in her face.

"I know everyone's name who are living under my supervision including yours besides what kind of cult leader I am if I don't have basic information about my fellow followers. Oh look I have been talking to you without giving the chance to let you talk my bad" he laughed again waving his fans creating another awkward situation. Causing you to sweatdrop on his remark.

"Say (y/n) how old are you?" to which she replied enthusiastically "I am 8 years old and will turn 9 soon"

"Ah you don't look like one" douma grinned closing his eyes in the process.

"Yeah I get that a lot" she remarked shyly.

"Your mother is one of my followers" he continued

"Really?" her eyes sparked with hope as she approached douma with anticipation grabbing his arms for the second time starling him, she really like holding hands eh? he have experiences like that but somehow this girl made him feel different so he allowed her but then she stopped halfway through her words "I really miss her it's been a week since she left me here" her voice dropped with sadness.

Douma felt no sympathy for humans or anything as such, he have learned to fake his emotions from a very tender age eversince he was born to the extent that even seeing his mother killing her husband mercilessly failed to evoke feelings within. He clearly did not understand what she was feeling he just stared at her with a blank expression only to replace it quickly with a grim look even faking few tears. "(Y/n) chan you know its okay you will still have me" he patted the girl in an attempt to comfort her.

"Friends?" (Y/n) replied between her tears.

"If that's how you want us to be" douma smiled at her gently shocking himself for a second because he didn't think of smiling?

Things escalated soon after that incident, (y/n) was a kind and compassionate person from inside and out and in not time the cult followers started loving her presence. As often douma would let her accompany him and most of the time she stayed by his side following him everywhere and he didn't mind that at all moreover he appreciated her company. (Y/n) was like a fresh bud to him who depicted innocence and purity he loved spoiling her with expensive gifts yet she never showed signs of greediness and genuinely appreciated his thoughtfulness slowly forgetting the past life she was in and cherishing her friendship with douma. At first she was reluctant and didn't like getting so much attention but in the course of time she bonded better with everyone and was quite content with the life she was leading. As for douma he began to depend on (y/n) to the point that not seeing her face for even one day would make him go insane and he didn't understand why not like he want to because all he cared about was how she made him feel so many varieties of pleasant emotions he wish he could feel. Eating her was out of context.

However all good things must come to an end for he is someone to not rest in peace after the sin he have committed for centuries. Seeing douma paying her more attention, spoiling her with a ravish lifestyle and even letting her stay by his side all the time made some of his cult members terribly envious they wanted to punish her for taking their chances of stealing the spotlight. There was this one room that he forbade his followers to enter for obvious reasons and specifically for (y/n) because he didn't want to repeat the same mistake. This was exactly what they wanted (y/n) to do break the rules and Douma's trust. Like that there would be no more favouritism on her with others.

"Ah (y/n), there you are" one of the female member approached her one fine morning.

"Yes how may I help you?" She asked cheerfully

"Lord douma have asked for your presence in the forbidden room tonight and he said its urgent"

"Aren't we all prohibited to go inside"

"Oh (y/n) it's true master have arrived today and he wants your presence"

Upon hearing that news her heart elated with happiness, it has been two weeks since he last saw douma around and she missed him but something felt off about the whole situation douma always sees (y/n) first before tending his followers then why did he not come meet her did he not miss her like she did?

She was lost in her thoughts until she found two hands waving and snapping infort of her face.

"Don't be late, okay?" With that said the female hurried back into other room leaving (y/n) behind even though the situation seem kinda odd maybe douma was busy afterall.

At night (y/n) went into the restricted area. She stood infront of the shoji door in absolute dilemma debating whether or not to enter the room or go back. There was her desire of meeting douma on one hand and not breaking his trust by entering the room on the other. In the end she decided not to but as she was turning back she heard someone grunting in pain behind the closed doors being a compassionate person, she decided to open the door and enter into the darkness adjusting her eyes in the process, a pungent smell hit her nostrils making her cover her mouth and to her absolute terror the scene infront of her made her puke in disgust.

A pile of Mutilated bodies, mostly women laid around lifelessly on the blood stained tatami mattress. Many having no limbs, some headless and organs missing from their body as if someone had ate all of that. The whole room was a mess full of unfortunate people. She felt sick and began crawling down her way back from the corpses. However she felt a tight grip on her left foot upon looking down she witness the sight of a woman her intestines oozing out of her stomach begging for help. (Y/n) stood there perplexed unable to say anything chocking through tears.

"I told you not to come here, why?" (Y/n) turned her head violently to see douma standing in a distance his countenance cold and sinister evident that he was highly displeased upon seeing his innocent flower disobeying his instructions.

"It's not... like... what you see" (y/n) cried fearfully but douma didn't seem to buy it well in a blink of an eye she found herself in Douma's arms as he aggressively dragged her out of the room.

"What's going on douma" no word came out from the usual lively douma.

"It's hurting me your grip" no reply again to which she forcefully tried to stand still with all her strength. This time douma stopped his features hidden under his bangs making her unable to figure the expression he was carrying.

"Is this why douma forbade us to enter the room" no reply

"Are you responsible for murdering those innocent people?" No reply

"DOUMA" she shouted

"Why you want to join them?" Douma finally looked at her his eyes glowing dangerously proving his existence to be something unnatural. (Y/n's) eyes widen at his remarks as tears rolled down her visage.

"I hate you.." she murmured

"What?" He tilted his head letting his guard down a bit at her hurtful comments.

"I HATE YOU" she pushed douma roughly and flew from the place running deep into the forest for she knew who he was and what he is capable of doing. Tearing down she constantly reminisce the moments she shared but she cannot allow herself to sympathize his heinous crimes. Why is it that the people I love are always taken away from me? She thought. Exhausted from running she halted in order to catch her breath while glancing back to see if he was following, there was no one indeed so a sudden feeling of relief gushed in her body. However turning her head back she saw him standing inches apart from her face which made her shiver and fall onto the knees.

"Why are you running away from me (y/n)" he said apatheticly his head lowered at her level. She did not reply and stayed quite.

"Is it true that you don't love me after all the things I did for you?" Covering his face with one hand his eyes glowing under the moonlight a look of dejection written on his face. There was complete silence in the forest except the sound of rustling trees.

"Answer me" holding her face now firmly he growled making her flinch under his breath. In one last desperate attempt (y/n) tried to stab douma with a tree branch she found laying on the ground but unfortunately douma was faster and easily dodged the attack and in a swift motion he hit her with immense strength causing her fragile little body to tremble in pain as she coughed mucus mixed with blood.

"How foolish of you" he crouched down her height staring intensely at the quivering figure of the miserable girl. As for (y/n) her body ached but more was the tightness in the chest that she was experiencing in the moment.

He pulled her by the hair roughly making her scream in pain although at this point all she could manage with her cracking voice were inaudible screams.

"Why did you disobey me? (Y/n)..." who knew beneath that friendly kind face was hiding a undeniably deadly and calculative demon and at this point it was clear for her that he was anything but human.

"Who are you?" these few words manage to escape from her shaky lips in between low grunts.

"I am the leader of the eternal paradise cult"

"Wrong" to which he tightened his grip making her shriek again.

"You humans are so dumb believing in the existence of primordial deities where in reality its just a myth, a fairytale, created for pleasuring the sufferings of mere human. Being superior than you mortals I wanted to make these pitiful existence happy and that's why I was born and what you saw there" his lips curved into a cheeky smile revealing his deadly fangs creeping the shit out of the already scared girl. "I eat them so that they can always be with me and attain salvation" a sinister laughter escape from his mouth as he covered it with his golden fans. (Y/n) unable to process the new sets of information knots formed in her stomach making her sick in the guts.

"I ate your mother too, oh she was ungrateful after all the things I did to her just like you" protruding her eyes with pure shock she felt her veins popping out and blood boiling in pure rage.

"You are a monster, you think your stupid morals would persuade people to think like you do, I despise you douma I thought we were friends and you took away the one I cherished the most?"

"You think your mother loved you?" Douma snapped. The duality of this was man was insane, all the things he does or says are plastic.

"She never cared for your life, you want to know why? I will tell you since you insist" douma dragged her out of forest holding a fistful of her hair tightly inflicting great discomfort to the girl while he continued with his harsh statements and deliberate insults.

"You were just a burden, behaving like a fucking child with the alluring body of yours"

"No my mother promised me..she would protect me.. you are lying"

"While you were crying everyday inside my shrine that lowly woman enjoyed her life indulging in adultery with various cult members leaving her sick husband and mentally retarded daughter in the dark" every word he uttered spread vemon into her ears.

"Still she wanted more and more and more, what a greedy whore" douma continued.

"Do you know how much difficult it was for me to control myself around you? While you sway your hips and act innocently making those hungry men lust over you, how much dumb can you be?"

"What do you mean I don't understand.. douma"

"I did everything I can for you yet you remain ungrateful, disrespectful? Well guess its runs in your blood and I thought you are innocent but it turns out that you are just like the rest of them, naive"

Her eyes widened with every hurtful remarks he made about her and she did not understand why she felt that way shouldn't she be resentful towards him for killing her beloved mother but here she is weeping constantly because douma was treating her like he never did before.

"But that's fine (y/n) I can not bring myself to hurt you I love you and we shall always be together whether you like it or not" nothing reached in her ears anymore as her body grew numb. Her eyes shut as she carried the unbearable pain in her heart slowly loosing consciousness and remaining sanity.

It would have been easier if she died but alas a mere human like her is doomed at his mercy.

[neovisioned]

♡ꜜ lipstick stain﹫jaemin na

she looks so perfect - 5 seconds of summer

pairing : jaemin x reader (f)

genre : smut with little plot, roommate!jaemin, college!au. 

warnings : solo masturbation.

word count : +2,5k

synopsis : you leave lip stick stains on your roommate Jaemin’s skin before leaving for the night and he can’t help himself and his hidden feelings.  or : “your lipstick stain is a work of art, i got your name tattooed in an arrow heart.” 

“Y/N, what are you doing ?”, Jaemin wonders out loud, a small laugh coming out of his lips after taking your expression in. Resting the controller of his PlayStation 4 on his thigh, covered by his light grey sweatpants, your roommate lets his eyes wonder up to you as his game loads on the screen of your shared television. From his spot on the couch of your apartment, he was watching you carefully tap your index on your lower lip, before examining your fingertip with a bit too much curiosity.

“I need to see if my lipstick is going to stay through the night, Jaems.”, you explain like it’s obvious, eyes still on your reflection in the entrance’s mirror. Tapping once again your finger on your bottom lip, you slowly check the makeup you flawlessly applied to your features moments prior. You were going out tonight. Any other night, you would probably go out with your beloved roommate but, you were seeing old high school friends. A reunion organized by teachers you barely kept in contact with and, you unfortunately wouldn’t bring the pink haired man with you. You have to say, you wish you could have him with you. The dress you’re wearing hugs your body, your makeup is flawless if it is not for the said lipstick. You know your presence alone will be able to take some people’s breaths away just like it took your roommate’s. But, having Jaemin with you would’ve sealed the deal. Maybe it was a bit childish, wanting to make people jealous. Can you blame yourself ? You were the first to gush over your roommate’s looks and melt at his sweet and gentleman-like personality. Let’s say he isn’t helping you at all at this very moment, legs spread wide, he isn’t wearing a shirt, abdomen on full display.

“Is that the one you got last week ?”, asks the tallest, eyes quickly going back from his game to your figure. The theme song of The Last of Us Part Two plays in the background, the young man’s eyes get stuck on your exposed neck for a bit too long. Brushing your hair with one hand, you use the other to apply some perfume to the base of your neck. Jaemin has to say, you look good every day of the week, every hour of the day. You look ravishing when you two go out every now and then but, it’s clear you decided to make a lot more today. He couldn’t complain, having a roommate like this but God, he wishes he could come with you at this reunion, make sure everyone understands you’re bound to be his. You hum at his question, unaware of his racing thoughts, remembering the day you dragged him to some makeup store, right after getting your paycheck. Fortunately, he didn’t complain, or maybe you just didn’t listen to his desperate sighs. Regardless, he helped you pick a color, he thought would go well with you after some minutes of thinking in front of the large display.

“Why don’t you just do the thing you do with your hand.”, he asks gesturing to the top of his hand. You and Jaemin decided to live together at the beginning of university and, after some years, he caught on to some things. Like how you had the habit of placing your lips on the back of your hand to check if any product would transfer on your skin. He had a good point, you would. But, you were too lazy to wash your hand after, your nails were freshly painted and you were running late.

“Ugh, I’m too lazy to wash my hand after. We’re also out of tissues.”, you sigh, eyebrows raised. Jaemin was the one who finished the roll and didn’t even think about buying a new one. Looking at the watch adoring your wrist, you quietly smack your lips together, hoping the lipstick wouldn’t leave a mark on the cups and straws at the reunion. You had a…weird hatred for lipstick stains.   Jaemin laughs a bit at your antics, leaving his controller on the side. Getting up, he doesn’t hesitate to stand right next to you. Extremely underdressed, he pushes your shoulder with his, checking his own appearance in the mirror. The pink haired man loves annoying you a little bit every now and then.

For a split second, you look over at your friend in the mirror. “We’d look good together”, you think to yourself but, you have to brush the thought away in a flash. See, for the past months, you stopped seeing Jaemin as a friend. And you hated it. You hated how whenever the two of you would cuddle in front of a movie, you’d wish he wouldn’t let go of the embrace to walk to his own, separate room. You started hating the way he’d sing while doing the dishes and while taking a shower. You wanted more and yet, couldn’t see yourself bring the subject up.

“Do it here, we’ll see if it leaves a stain.”, your roommate proposes, taking you out of your thoughts. His finger points at his slightly rounded cheek. Worst thing is, it isn’t the first time that the pink haired allowed you to test your lipsticks on him, he probably knew you were dying to test this one on him too. It happened one time where you were on a rush for work, no tissues or anything else to place your lips on and take the excess product out. Jaemin didn’t mind having a stain as he didn’t have class this morning, he could wash off properly right after and, he gained the guinea pig title. You don’t think twice, grabbing your roommate’s chin between your fingers. Under your touch, Jaemin faces you, angelic face too close to your own. He doesn’t seem to mind either, innocently blinking. There’s a small sigh coming from your lips, one Jaemin doesn’t bring up, like you can’t believe you’re doing this to your crush. You’ve faced it, the growing feeling, blooming butterflies whenever the man would look down at you, whenever he’d smile at one of your jokes. Your lips quickly find his cheek in a loud kiss, a dramatic “mwah” to dedramatize. They trail down without you understanding or processing your actions, placing your lips on his jaw and right under the sharp bone as he willingly tilts his head.  

“Oh, that’s a lot...!”, you notice out loud, brushing your actions off, eyebrows furrowed. A mark of your lips was clearly visible of his cheek, another one on the sharp jawline, and the last one in the middle of his neck. Faded, sure, but still clearly visible. “I’m taking it with me, will probably have to do some touch ups, y’know.”, you mumble quickly, grabbing the lipstick before throwing it in your purse. Get out, quick. Jaemin’s eyes are glued on the mirror, not daring to look at you. Pupils blowing a little wider, they expend a bit more at each new stain discovered. His lips are dry, he noticed. Poking his pink tongue out to wet his bottom lip, he slowly parts them, a feeling he knows too well growing in his stomach.

Biting softly on his chest, he nods as he hears you saying something about time and some teacher you’re excited to see. The pink haired doesn’t pay attention, a finger coming to touch the stain on his neck, cheek growing the same color as his locks.  Why was he so…turned on by such a simple thing ? Was it the stains, or you ? Probably both ? The marks, proofs of your lips on his skin, he wonders what they’d look like lower, lower. His pants grow tighter, the poor thing has to move to the side and hopefully hide the print on the grey fabric. The heat travels down to his chest, coloring the smooth skin there. His breath gets caught in his throat for a second and he has to clear it to hide the fact, wrapping his wondering hand around his upper arm. It’s aching to wrap around his growing length, release the tension growing, but his line of thoughts gets cut by the loud sound of the front door closing behind him. He didn’t even hear you saying good bye, he doesn’t even know when you’re coming back but all of this, are second thoughts.

His breath grows uneven as he looks around the now empty apartment. When the thought finally registers in this foggy brain, he quickly walks towards his room, the theme song of his game still playing.   He doesn’t care to close his door, leaving it slightly open. He can not believe he’s already semi-hard, the young man will never understand the affect you have on him. His mind, his body, it all reacts too quickly to anything you do. From the way you make playlists for his showers and manage to always bend down for the washing machine just at the right moment for him to see by the opened door of the kitchen. Sitting on the edge of his bed, the mattress sinks down under his weight, Jaemin faces the mirror installed right in front of him. Giving him a full view of his body, Jaemin leans back on his hand, his free one wondering on the smooth skin of his chest. With the huge mirror, it was even better. He could clearly see the three marks along his cheek and neck, the last one almost looking like a fading hickey. Oh, how his imagination could wonder so far, so quickly. The young man’s mouth falls slightly agape at how good the color looks on his skin, contrasting with his epiderma. Veiny hand goes down to his bulge, feeling his semi length through the fabric of his pants. His digits wrap around the base, sighing as he teased himself like he knows you’d do too.  Lips reddened by his relentless biting, glittering with a coat of saliva, Jaemin’s hand grabs his sheet as the other sneaked beneath the fabric of his sweatpants. Finally giving himself some skin to skin contact he was craving for, though he wishes it was someone else’s.  A sigh of relief leaves the pink haired’s lips when he feel his rough hand wrapping around his base, tinted lock falling in front of his dark eyes. His dick feels heavy in his hand, a vein pumping at the side. Ever so slowly, his hand moves up, and down. Drawing the pleasure out, his thumb wipes the small pearl of precum threatening to fall. He uses it for smoother movements, lewd sounds echoing in his room. Mind blurred, focused on the ounce of pleasure he was giving himself, he tilts his head to the side. Jaemin was trying his hardest not to close his eyes, he wanted to see the marks and his skin. He was feeding off of them, letting the most perverted side of his brain make whatever he could up in his daze. A pleased sigh leaves his lips the moment he fully pumps his shaft up and down. They grow faster, pleasure taking over his body, sweat gathering at his hairline and soon enough, he was pushing the hem of his pants down. Entirely exposing himself, his imagination was out of control. He wasn’t picturing his hand, rather yours. Petite compared to his, wrapping around his thick shaft, Jaemin wondered what you’d look like, on your knees in front of him. He knows you’d let your tongue drag up his length just like when you catch a drop of melted ice cream. A grown leaves his lips when he vividly pictures your mouth around him and deep down he knows, he knows you’d beg him to fuck you in front of this very mirror. The sound of skin fills the room, rhythmically. Alongside, his sighs grow deeper and deeper, turning into groans and desperate moans. Jaemin doesn’t care to hide them, all alone in his bedroom. He tries his best to remember the feeling of your lips on his skin, picturing them kissing his neck, down his torso, and his hand pumps faster. Maybe your lipstick would leave a few rings around his shaft, a deep moan coming from his chest at the thought, his eyes screwing shut. “God.”, he whines, his hips bucking against his hand. A gasp leaves his lips as his lips his hips fuck his fist. He pictures you again, seeing you in that dress, how the silky fabric hugs deliciously hugs your body. Wishing he could take it off, he’d probably let the fragile fabric rip under his hands, Jaemin couldn’t help himself when it came to you. He wonders, what does you skin would feel like under his fingers, he knows you’d react in the most hypnotizing way to his teases, he knows he can make you cry his name out if you’d let him. His lip gets caught between his pearly teeth again, drawing blood. The iron taste lingers on his tongue, fighting with the newly made fantasy of your arousal coating his tongue. God, he wishes you didn’t leave, his hand moving faster and faster, chasing his high desperately.   “Y/N, fuck.”, it leaves his lips without thinking, he doesn’t care to understand the meaning behind the desperate moan. The blurry image of your body underneath his clouds his mind, made up moans of his name, picturing just how you’d babble because of his cock. God, he wants to hear you moaning, whining, begging. Even better, not being able to form coherent sentence just because of him, coming around his cock because of his, for him. The pink haired loses track as he wonders, getting closer and closer to your climax. His Adam’s apple bobs against the skin of his throat, regular gasp leaving his lips as he mumbles incoherent phrases himself, because of you and, you aren’t even there. He knows he’s about to come, bucking his hips. Letting out a loud moan, his voice cracks towards the end in what sounds like your name, yet again. Jaemin comes in a few short moments, hand never stopping as he milks, giving himself too much pleasure. Zoned out, he pants, a familiar ringing blocking his hearing, some cum on the smooth, slightly red skin of his torso.  Jaemin slowly opens his eyes, slightly regaining more coherent thoughts. Chest falling up and down at an irregular pace, he tries to catch his breath as best as he can, a small curse falling from his lip as his strong orgasm fades away. Damp colored hair in front of his eyes, Jaemin tries to comprehend everything, letting his body fall down on his bed. Closing his eyes, his veiny hands half of his face and he doesn’t even bother covering himself. Poor thing only now starts to calm down, hear clearly again. It’s weird, did he turn his game o-.

“Jaemin…? I forgot my wallet.”

His eyes shot open.

© NEOVISIONED l NO REPOSTING OR TRANSLATIONS ALLOWED.

[derailedfiction]

The Most Wanted | Baron Zemo | The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Pairings: Helmut Zemo x Fem!Reader | Sam Wilson & Fem!Reader |  James Barnes & Fem!Reader

Word count: 6764

Warnigns: smut, a bit of swearing

Summary: After John Walker's outburst, Reader.and the boys ™️ follow a promising lead of a certain doctor.

A/N: IT’S FINALLY HERE :D enjoy <3 

tag list: @sea-murai you’re my smut queen 

What a mess, you thought replaying in your head over, and over again how the poor man was decapitated. You returned to the empty apartment and made yourself a drink, which you drank at the spot and immediately you refilled empty glass. You looked at the amber liquid pensive. It was not the first time you saw somebody getting killed but the brutality of the act itself and the direct publicity it had from the very start, made you feel sick.

With heavy sight, you sat down on the sofa and closed your eyes. It was not the only haunting thought that was in your mind. The kiss. You suspected he did it to play with you, but you could not stop feeling his lips upon yours. How gentle and soft they were and Zemo’s gloved hand lightly caressing your chin as you succumbed to his actions.

What a nonsense, you thought and took away your own fingers that tried to trace his touch on your lips. But it was a pleasant nonsense, and you did not really want to let it go.

“Still here?” you heard Sam as he walked in. “Your great prize just escaped; you’re not following him?”

“Kein Problem, Sam. Ich verfolge ihm, [Not a problem, Sam. I’m tracking him,]” you answered him opening your eyes.

They both looked like they have been through hell. Weary, bruised up with some cuts on faces, but somehow victorious as you spotted the shield in Sam’s hands, still wearing some marks of blood on its surface.

“We must think what to do with Walker, he clearly snapped,” Bucky said as he was taking off his gear. “It’s hard to deal with what he’s done to the shield.”

That sounded way more accusatory than it supposed to be, and you saw Sam slightly tensing his jawline, listening to Bucky. It was something that you were used to, as James would from time to time throw such punchlines toward Sam, and how he has treated the shield.

You got up and went for the first aid kit, which still was in bathroom after Zemo helped you with taking out the bullet. You heard them heatedly arguing back in the room, so you grabbed the kit and went back.

“Sitz [Sit,]” you ordered James showing him the chair, and surprisingly he obliged. You then took a swab with sanitizer and tried to clean his face cuts, but he retreated catching your hand. “Komm jetzt, es wird nur für einen Moment kneifen [Come now, it’ll pinch only for a moment,]“

He let your hand go, rather unconvinced and allowed you to continue with the procedure.

“Sie mussen ihm neutraliziren. [You have to neutralize him.]” you referred to what they were arguing about, whilst cleaning James’ nose cut. “Er kann nicht ein Super-Soldat sein. Das ist zu gefährlich. [He can’t be a super soldier. It’s too dangerous.]”

“Well, that’s out of the question,” James answered with sigh.

“Yeah, but how do you want to take down a bloody murderer? It’s not like we can burst into his house and handcuff him, man,” Sam stood looking at the two of you, with crossed arms. “He’s a straight up killer, a super killer. He won’t go easy, especially as something broke in him.”

“I have told you something was not alright about him,” with nod you agreed to what Bucky has said.

“Warum hat er diesen Mann getötet? Was ist passiert? [Why did he kill that man? What has happened?]” you asked.

“Lemar, his partner died in action. It was actually Karli that pushed him into the wall, but Walker set his mind on that man,” you stood silent for a longer while, thinking intensively about something. In the meantime you let James to go, as you finished with cleaning of his cuts and invited Sam to take his place.

“Ich kenne eine Frau, sie ist eine Wissenschaftlerin und sie hatte an dem Super-Soldat Serum und einer Art Gegenmittel gearbeitet. [I know a woman. She’s a scientist and she worked on the super soldier serum and some kind of antidote.]”

“Really? – Nicht bewegen, [Don’t move,]” Sam looked at you as Bucky explained him what you have said. You found it utterly irritating and hard to tend his head cut as he moved all the time.

“Nun, ich kenne sie nicht persönlich, aber ich weiß, dass es diesen Wissenschaftler gibt, der versucht, die Wirkung des Serums umzukehren. [Well, I don't know her personally, but I do know that there is this scientist who is trying to reverse the effects of the serum,]” you took your time washing the wounds and bruised lip.

Only when you finished, you cleaned up and put the rest of the things back into the first aid kit. Then you took out your laptop and started looking for some useful information.

“Don’t you think is worth a shot?” Bucky asked Sam, who wasn’t that convinced to your idea. He didn’t trust you and you could not blame him for that. Especially, as you let Zemo escape their custody.

“Do we have other option? We should try this, it’ll be easier to do something with him, when he’s not a super soldier,” you felt Sam’s glances as he has spoken with James. “But still, I don’t trust her that much to do as she proposes.”

“For a bit we’re stuck with her,” they both stopped talking to look at you, working on the computer. You paused and looked back at them.

“Was? [What?]” you tilted your head and returned to your work.

“Anyway, we try to find this scientist and then we go back to States. I’m done with Europe for a while.”

“Mags du die offiziele Treffen? [Do you like official meetings?]”, you closed laptop and approached men. “[I know you have enough of Europe, but we’ll be here for a bit longer. In two days, there’s an annual meeting of scientist. What very little people know that it is also an annual convention of all sorts of medical freaks.]”

“Where is it?”

“Come sta il tuo gentiluomo italiano? Andiamo a Venezia. [How is your Italian? We are going to Venice],” you asked them with disarming smile as you saw confusion on their faces.

“How many languages do you know, woman?” Sam was highly shocked considering your ability to change languages so easily.

“A lot,” you smiled cheekily answering him in the purest English, much to his dismay.

***

“Do we have to go through the plan again?” you growled under your nose, hesitantly getting up from the bed you sat on.

You arrived in Venice in the early morning, when the whole city was still asleep. The three of you took that opportunity to do a short reconnaissance in front of the opera where later that day, the event was to be held. A square in front of it was rather small but provided enough space to set an observation station. You really hoped for a moment free to go and visit a bit more of the city you haven’t seen for a long time. Unfortunately, during the day you were seated in the nearby café as Sam and James went inside.

“Bucky and I go inside, and we try to find this doctor of yours. You Y/N, will be a watch-out in the nearby,” James looked at you for a moment, thinking about something.

“Can you tell me again, why you can’t go inside with us?”

“Wie ich Ihnen bereits sagte, wünschen mir einige Leute dort den Tod, [As I told you, some of the people there wish me dead,]“ you shook your head lightly. “So, denke ich, das ist keine gute Idee für mich in zu gehen. Jeder würde wissen, dass etwas lost ist. [So, I think it’s not a good idea for me to go in. Everybody would know something is going on.]”

James was visibly tormented by the idea of you doing things on your own.

“Es ist in Ordnung, ich verstehe dich und dass du mir nicht vertraust, James. [That’s alright, I understand you and that you don’t trust me, James,]” you gently put your hand on his arm. “Aber wir haben keine anderen Lösungen [But we don’t have any other options,]“ he sighed as he knew there was no other idea and that was your best shot so far.

“Right, but how do we get in there? We don’t even have clothes or anything?”

You smiled broadly as you were waiting for this question. You went to the phone and dialed a number, “Sie werden hinreißend aussehen, [You’ll look ravishing,]” you winked at them and started talking on the phone.

Within an hour, you were gaily sitting in a comfortable chair, slowly drinking your second mimosa and simply enjoying the view. Sam and James were trying on their tuxedos for the evening, which was truly captivating activity as you could look at two well-built men in smart clothes.

“Is it me or Y/N enjoys this a bit too much?” Sam turned around to see himself in the mirror.

“Ja, ich genieße die Aussicht, [Yes, I do enjoy the view,]” you smiled and raised your glass to toast and finished off the drink, which was immediately refilled.

Bucky stood silently in his dark-blue velvet jacket and you could have sworn he was mumbling something about you acting like Zemo.

“Komm schon Jungs, du muss anständig aussehen, um in die Oper zu gehen, [Come on boys, you have to look decent to go to the opera,]” the tailor took the last measurements from Sam and invited Bucky to stand on a low step.

“Ah, James, du siehst absolut schneidig aus [James, you look absolutely dashing],” you complimented the man as the dark shade of blue looked absolutely mesmerizing on him. “Du auch siehst absolut schneidig aus, Sam,” what was more to say, you simply took pleasure in both, observing them in those fancy clothes and how miserable they were at the same time.

“Aren’t you getting ready?” Sam asked, looking at himself in the mirror one more time. You sensed that he actually liked being dressed like this.

“Ja, aber ich bin schon bereit, schau. [Yes, but I’m already ready, look,]” with your free hand you pointed to a hanger with long, evening dress in your favourite colour, next to which stood high-heels.

As you finished your last drink, you got up from the armchair and spoke to the tailor, who informed you that there, is need only for small changes and outfits would be ready within two hours. You smiled to him and left the room with the dress and shoes to get ready.

It was not your first time to be a watch out but what concerned you the most about this evening, was the fact that you still had the Powerbroker’s men after you. The odds were rather unlikely for them to come but they were not zero. Then again, you did not really owe anything to James or Bucky, to stay and to help them here or to go after Walker and neutralize his super soldier abilities.

You looked at your reflection in a mirror, carefully observing how the fabric of the dress draped over your body. The sleeves were of right length to nicely cover the bandage on your arm. It was a simple, evening dress as many others, but it had something in it that made you checking-out yourself for a longer moment. Was it the cleavage, not revealing yet complementing your breasts? Or maybe a nicely cut waist, hugging your body well-fitted? You did not really know, and it did not bother you. The effect was stunning, and you loved it. It was a perfect camouflage for your position. Being in that dress allowed you to look as one of the guests, who casually went outside to smoke and was about to go back. The only thing that didn’t go well with this outfit was your purple black eye from the other day, but what make-up cannot solve?

It took you a bit longer than you wished but you managed to cover the bruised area with an evening look. As you finished the last touches of your gala outfit you took out two boxes with the equipment you got from a friendly smuggler you knew from the past.

“So, I brought some good stuff,” you said as you returned to the boys and put first small box on the table.

“She speaks,” escaped from Sam’s mouth. And it was not the only sense that was shocked as his eyes were wandering on your figure, as much as James’s. “You look really nice.”

“Yes, I do,” you replied in such way on purpose, so he had to think about it. You opened the box revealing small earplugs. “We’ll communicate through them. It’s so small nobody will notice it,” you handed one for each of them and put one in your ear.

“Why now?” Sam was still inquiring about your magical ability to speak English, all of sudden.

“I thought it would be easier if both of you would understand me, not just James,” you answered him. “And honestly, gentleman you should consider wearing suits more often… They really suit you.” Sam was visibly flattered by your compliment, while James mumbled something again. “Do you want to go over the plan again?”

“I think we’re good. You’re observing, we’re inside looking for your doctor. We get needed information and head out,” Sam summed up shortly, as you took out invitation. “Only one?”

“Yeah, you’re going as a pair. Settle between who is who’s one plus,” you handed him the piece of paper with grin. “You’ll do just fine.”

“I preferred when you spoke German at least I didn’t understand you,” he sighed heavily. You lightly shrugged your arms and turned on a little screen, which was showing halls of the opera house from different angles. You wrinkled your nose lightly observing one of the video.

“What?” you heard Bucky over your shoulder, standing behind.

“Nothing, I just spotted a bar I want to invade before we begin,” you answered him and turned off the device.

“How professional,” Sam snorted.

“Come now, darling,” you smiled blissfully and grabbing their arms as you were leaving the apartment. “What can go wrong?”

***

As you soon found out quite a lot of things could have gone wrong, starting with your high-heels and Venetian pavement that was not co-operating with them to finish with a bottle of not-so-cold champagne you have hoped for.

“How is it going?” you asked through the earplug, observing incoming wave of smart-clothed people.

“So far, so good,” you heard Sam and you saw him with a drink in a hand, “How does our target will look like?”

“Tall, blonde, she’ll be probably with a cane. She had some sorts of accident and can’t walk without it,” you replied smiling to the passing by couple, “She should be easy to spot. Please, don’t scare her.” Sam let a short laugh.

“Well then, let’s get to it,” James was rather tensed, observing guests coming in.

“You should go and take your seats, the play is about to start.”

“What?” they asked simultaneously.

“Oh, I didn’t mention that?” you smiled to yourself, seeing their distressed faces in camera, “As a treat for guests, you’ll be able to see one of the finest version of Don Jovanni. Enjoy gentlemen –”

And you lost sound at that moment, you could have seen they were saying something to you but it was just lost.

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

What a piece of shit, you thought taking out the comm and gently hitting it in order to work.

“Hello?”

“Problems in paradise?” a familiar voice, you thought you won’t hear for a time, asked as you turned around to see Zemo standing in the shadows like a common creep.

“As far as I’m concerned, we’re doing perfectly well,” you said, observing the entrance. Quite a lot of people were still going in, even though the opera has already started. “I’m surprised to see you here, to be honest.”

“I got a little bit bored, and I decided to come back,” Zemo said, walking up to you slowly.

“Don’t tell me you missed Sam or James’s company?” you scoffed him with a smile just in the corner of your lips.

“I missed your company Y/N, if I may speak freely,” you raised your eyebrow at his words. Zemo stopped next to you and observed the façade of the opera house. “It’s quite a crowd, isn’t it?”

“I suppose it is. I never liked those official meetings, really. The only one good thing about such parties is this,” you showed him a bottle of champagne you took earlier from the opera’s kitchen. “Want some? But I warn you, I don’t have any fancy glasses, so we have to drink straight from the bottle,” you drank from it and passed the alcohol to Zemo, which he gladly accepted.

“Are our mutual friend inside?” you nodded. “How did you make them go inside?”

“It wasn’t that hard, really,” he was standing with such close proximity, you had no problem with smelling his cologne nor with feeling his warmth. “Is it your doings that our communication is jammed?”

Zemo smiled innocently and pretended to turn the key against his mouth, “I know nothing of such thing, Y/N. But then again, we wouldn’t have had this opportunity to talk freely.”

“And you came, God knows from where, just to talk with me?” he opened his arms and shrugged them.

“Night is still young, and you don’t have to stand here waiting for them to return. They’re big boys,” he took the liberty to caress your neck skin as he spoke, giving you shivers along the spine.

“What we do here is important, Zemo,” you slowly turned your gaze upon him. “Honestly, I don’t really want to see any more dead bodies caused by this man.” You lazily leaned towards him, occasionally glancing at his lips. So, tempting to try them one more time.

“I can see that, Y/N,” Zemo answered in low whisper, still caressing your neck.

You moved even closer to the man and just inches before his mouth, you paused and said, “Give me back champagne.”

You saw how his face shifted as he gave you a short smirk along the bottle, from which you took another sip.

“So, hypothetically, where would you want to go, Zemo?” you asked, enjoying the sensation of his gloved hand against your skin.

“Hypothetically, there is a little hotel, not that far from here where, hypothetically, I have an apartment – Of course, you have – where we can go and talk,” you rose your eyebrow as he took his hand away and took of his signature coat to put it around your shoulders. “It’s rather chilly.”

“What a chivalry of yours, Zemo,” you stated, even though you accepted it with quite a pleasure, “Shall we go?” As for a true gentleman, hidden under a mask of a terrorist, he offered you his arm, which you gladly took.

The two of you went for a relatively short stroll, which raised questions you wanted to ask, how on earth he found out about this event and that you will be there, but you just let it go.

You shook your head for his proposition of a drink as you reached the apartment, you felt a little bit light-headed after the champagne and wanted to make a pause. You nonchalantly slipped the coat on an armchair and sat down on a small sofa.

“Well, you can now tell me why are you back? I mean, you had a clear way of escaping and be free as wind,” you pressed your lips tight, and you crossed your arms, waiting for him to answer you. He poured you two drinks and handed one to you even though you didn’t want any.

Just as soon as he sat down, he started, “It might sound strange, but I wanted to spend some time with a person who will not try to kill me.” You smiled to your whiskey and sipped a little of it, “And as much as I enjoyed co-operating with Sam and James, it was tiring after a while to look over your shoulder.”

You raised your eyebrow in amusement. It was the very Baron Zemo who just said, he must have looked if there was anyone wanting to stab him. You found that hilarious and couldn’t prevent a silent laugh.

“I must say, Zemo, that sounds rather funny, being said by you.”

“Why? Because I know my way out of any situation, even if it demands some stabbing?” he looked at you, gently smiling.

“Precisely,” you narrowed your eyes, observing him. In this dim light and with that smile on his lips he seemed to be quite relaxed and peaceful. A rare view for anyone watching. “You know what, I missed our little talks like that.”

“I’ll drink to that, Y/N.”

You observed him for a moment, urging to ask a burning question that you carried since the beginning of your reunion, “How do you feel?”

He stopped drinking and looked at you surprised, “Ravishing, what do you mean?”

“You perfectly know, what do I mean, Baron,” you slowly took another sip of the drink, “You know, you were severely depressed in the jail, so obviously I’m a little bit concerned how do you feel now. You wanted to kill yourself, Zemo. It doesn’t happen just like that,” you snapped your fingers, looking expectantly at him.

“If that will ease your mind upon this matter, I went through the therapy during my incarnation,” he looked at the peaceful night through the window. “ – and it helped for a certain extend.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Zemo. I really am,” you smiled lightly and finished your drink. “You want a refill?” You stood up from your armchair and took his glass, as you headed for the bar. “Same or you want to change for something else?”

“The usual,” you snorted and poured him whiskey.

“So,” you started, handing Zemo his glass back, “shall we speak about something a bit more cheerful?”

As the two of you engaged into conversation, the time passed by unnoticed. You must have admitted that Zemo was a delightful chat partner as he could talk about literary everything starting from political matters and literature to what knife would be the best for a hand-to-hand combat. It was that kind of dispute which was challenging you and yet allowed you to carry it on effortlessly.

Your engagement in conversation with Zemo, reminded you how the two of you had similar talks when he was in German prison. You were quite proud of yourself when you successfully infiltrated that prison posing as a trauma counsellor. There was no real therapy, but it allowed you to plan and implement the escape. Though, now you could see much more emotions and freedom in his talking and way of acting. You found it enjoyable to observe him a bit more alive than he used to be.

At one moment you were standing and slowly dancing to the music played from a gramophone and it was quite blurry for you to recall who came up with this idea. But it was pleasurable when you felt his arm gently resting around your waist as the other supported your hand, even though both of you had some percentages in blood. You were slowly rocking across the room, trying to avoid sneaky furniture that would appear out of nowhere, to your disapproval.

“Maybe it’s best if we sit for now, we’re not the best dancers after this amount of alcohol,” you led Zemo by his hand to the sofa, on which you sat down.

“You look lovely in this dress, Y/N.”

“I know, thank you,” you gave him a cheeky smile, much to his amusement.

“You know what…”

“Are you going to tell me it would look better on the floor?” you interrupted, and Zemo chuckled in response.

“Only if you want to, Y/N,” you shifted on the sofa to move a bit closer towards him.

“What do you want, then?”

“You,” this simple response made you astonished, uncertain what to say.

“Is this drunken you speaking, or real you?” your fingers started slowly caressing the back of his hand, in anticipation of Zemo’s answer.

“What would you like me to be?” you lightly shook your head.

“Does it really matter?” you asked, not really knowing whether you were asking yourself or Zemo. Before he could answer you in any way, you placed a short, uncertain kiss on the man’s lips, which was followed by much longer and needy one. You wanted to retreat after this, to think about it but Zemo’s hand in your hair prevented it sufficiently and pulled you back for another kiss, heated and passionate.

You felt the zip of your dress going down and as you leaned in the kiss, the material slide off revealing your shoulders. You pushed him gently on the sofa seat and comfortably nested yourself on Zemo. Your fingers were tenderly stroking his hair as your kiss became deeper and sweeter with each passing second.

His lips slipped from yours to your jawline and neck leaving trail of messy kisses, each of it awarded by your soft moan. You felt as if you were melting under every single touch, stroke or nip left on your skin.

“Would you like to go somewhere more comfortable?” he asked into your neck, kissing it possessively.

“After you, Helmut,” you placed another peck in the corner of his lips and sat up.

Baron swiftly got up and offered his hand to lead you to the bedroom, where he took his time stripping you out of the dress, along saying how much he admired you and your body. As your apparel hit the floor, it revealed you were wearing no lingerie.

“Y/N,” Zemo chucked huskily, grabbing you by your waist and turning around to see you, “You’re full of surprises, my dear.”

You rested your forearms on his chest observing how his eyes brightened. Your fingers played with the collar of the man’s shirt before leaning in for another kiss, which he tenderly gave you.

“Why am I the only one undressed?” you softly purred, revelling in his gentle strokes. You moved your hands to ably undo his belt and shoulder holster, which were now laying on the floor.

“Is it my fault you weren’t wearing any underwear?”

“Is it my fault you were so eager to undress me?” you replied with another question, working on his clothes. Zemo chuckled allowing you to do further undressing of him. “You know what…” you paused your doings and took your hands away, looking at him slyly, “You’re a big boy, do it yourself.”

You walked away from him with a cheeky smile and sat down on a bed, resting on your palms with crossed legs. Zemo tilted his head letting a quiet sigh of disbelief as he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, still maintaining eye contact with you. Oddly, you found it quite erogenous, and your breath quicken a bit watching him stripping the rest of clothes.

“Like what you see?”

“Come to me,” you softly lured, feeling deprived of his touch and affection for too long. You climbed higher on the bed making room for Zemo, who was over you within seconds.

“So needy,” he chuckled darkly, leaving lazily trail of kisses starting on your collar just to end right next to your ear. His hand was exploring your hip, gently clenching fingers into your sensitive skin, enjoying each of your soft moans. “So impatient – and so welcoming.”

You deeply inhaled feeling his fingers inside you, already dripping wet.

“Y/N…”  Zemo caught each of your whines with his lips slowly fingering you, “You’re such a beautiful mess.” You laughed in his mouth which quickly turned into loud groan of pleasure as heat inside you was more and more mounting.

“Zemo, I want you,” you said quietly and whimpered as he took his fingers away from you.

“Good Lord, Y/N. You even taste as good as you look,” he smiled devilishly, licking off your juices and suspended any actions, glancing at you somehow distressed.

“What is it?” you looked up, searching for his eyes.

“It’s just been a while since I – ” you shushed him with your finger on his lips.

“Roll over,” you said sternly and surprisingly he was more than happy to oblige and pull you on top, “Good boy, Helmut,” you awarded him with a loving kiss.

You straddled him and helped yourself with your hand to position his member to your entrance, and you slowly lowered down on him. Both of you gasped at the same moment as you froze to feel him better inside you. “You’re quite to take,” you whispered slowly rocking your hips, much to Zemo’s approval. After a moment of his stillness, Zemo started to counter your movements.

“Oh, my – Helmut,” you gasped airlessly feeling his thrusts and trying to keep up with the pace. “Don’t you dare to stop,” you bit your lip, watching what hot mess he became beneath you. It seemed as his hands were all over you, all the time, yet you felt them mostly strongly gripping your hips as he kept thrusting in you.

“You are beautiful, Y/N. I cannot get enough of you,” with each next pound into you, you felt your legs were about to fail you. Zemo saw that as you were faintly allowing your head to fall down with sorrow moans of pleasure.

He unceremoniously flipped you on your back and trapped between the mattress and his body.

“That’s unexpected,” you said pulling him closer, sinking your fingers into his messy hair, “But not unwelcomed.”

“You were barely holding on. I couldn’t allow anything happen to you,” he stated, changing his pace to much slower and mor passionate lovemaking.

“You have well-rested, my dear Bar–ON,” a moan escaped your lips as he suddenly caught your nipple in teeth and bit it.

Zemo hooked your legs around his hips as he started to pound into you mercilessly, catching every single moan and scream of pleasure that escaped your mouth with his indecent kisses. Within a blink of an eye your arms were held by his hand, above your head, much restraining your movement. You tried to squirm your freedom, but he was relentless in overpowering you.

“Don’t move, be a good girl,” his whisper next to your ear made your eyes even darker from lust and you obliged to Helmut’s demand. “Good girl,” he praised you huskily, cupping your breast with the free hand.

“Helmut, I – ” you shivered strongly as your climax was almost there. Your hips were coming ahead his thrust gaining as much friction and stimulation as you could get. “Please, let me go… I want to touch you, to feel you when I come on you,” you pleaded sweetly arching your body toward him even more.

As soon as your arms were free, you clenched them around his upper body, dugging nails into his back. Your breath was becoming more and more frantic as you were on the very edge of your climax. All of your nerves were aching for it to happen, controlling over your body as you softly whimpered into Zemo’s neck nonsense. His brown eyes, now almost black were staring at you as if you were his pray, his victim.

“Don’t you dare stopping n-OW,” you were an absolute mess and him changing pace for the faster one was bringing you over the edge.

“Be a good girl and come for me,” Zemo’s hips were smashing into you with the force you have never suspected him. You nodded sloppily kissing his face wherever you could and then it happened.

You felt overwhelming wave of heat and shivers overpowering your body as your orgasm hit. For a moment you stopped breathing and allowed to be filled with this shake inside you and how your muscles tensed around him. Your arms were holding onto Zemo, whose moves became hastier and erratic, close to his own finale. He rested his head on your shoulder breathing heavily and babbling as with few last thrusts he came in you, with loud moan.

He stopped moving to catch his breath and slowly slipped out of you.

“You are intense, Y/N,” his soft smile was something amazing to observe. You could have sworn there was only affection and nothing more in him, at the moment.

“Well, I got to taste my own medicine, Helmut. I think I might have some bruises,” you looked at him out of breath and satisfied.

Zemo pulled you closer and left few short kisses on your forehead before he spoke to you, “Sleep now, I’ll get you back to boys tomorrow morning.”

As much as you hated the idea of being vulnerable in your sleep, you settled down comfortably next to Zemo, slowly falling asleep. His arm around your shoulder was holding you steadily, yet you could still hear his heart fast beating. Listening to it and how it was getting slower as to the regular hear beat, you found yourself drowsy enough to relax and fall asleep on his chest.

***

Your sleep was abruptly finished by the phone ring.

“Hallo?” you took the phone quickly not to wake up sleeping man next to you.

“Y/N? Care to explain your sudden missing?” you heard James on the other side and stopped breathing for a moment.

You got up and left the bedroom with sleeping Zemo and you replied, “Ich hatte einen Dinge zu machen.[I had some things to do.]”

“Yeah, right. I’m waiting outside,”

“Was? [What?]” a shocked question slipped your lips.

“Das. [That.] I put a tracker on you. I didn’t want another runner like Zemo. Come down or I’ll come for you,” he said and hung up.

FUck, fuck, FUCK, you thought shocked as you started quickly looking for your clothes. Outside the window, you indeed noticed Bucky standing under a street lantern on the opposite side of the hotel’s entrance. As you were gathering your dress and shoes, you noticed some kind of package on a chair, opposite to the bed. You almost omitted it as they were all black and only delicate shimmering in the streetlight, caught your attention.

 I hope these will be more comfortable to pursue me in.

                                                          Z.

 You smiled lightly and put the note in the pocket. How come that he could not speak about his feelings but had no problem with showing them in other ways. You took the pile from the chair and you noticed it was surprisingly heavy, as you walked into the bathroom.

How does that man know so much about me?, you asked yourself putting on clothes he prepared. And of course, they fitted you perfectly, which was quite amazing. You haven’t had a slightest idea what kind of material it was, but it felt so comfortable as if you were wearing a second skin. You slipped your feet into boots and laced them thoroughly.

The last thing from the pile was a black box in which you found lather shoulder holster, quite similar to the one Zemo was wearing himself. You put it on and adjusted to your preference and when it was perfectly laying on you, you inserted a gun into the holster.

Before you went away, you have left a short notice foe Zemo that you must have gone.

“Why did you left your position?” he asked as soon as you saw you leaving the hotel, and narrowed his eyes checking out your outfit closely. “Weren’t you wearing a dress?”

“Und jetzt trage ich das. [And now I wear this,]” you answered shortly, unsure how to feel about this whole situation. “Es ist nicht nett, dass du mir nicht vertraust. Aber ich verstehen es. [It’s not nice that you don’t trust me. But I get it].”

“Well, I was right not to trust you, Y/N. Why did you leave?”

“Ich habe dir gesagt, ich musste mich um einige Dinge kümmern. Es ist nicht so, dass ich an euch beide gebunden bin. [I told you, I had some things to attend to. It’s not like I’m bound to you two],” you snarled back at him. “Wo ist Sam? [Where’s Sam?]”

“Back at our hideout,” James sighed quietly and rubbed his eyes. “Alright, listen… You don’t have to tell me why you left, just –,” he stopped for a second looking at you. “Just leave any kind of note that you’re going…”

“Oh, warst du besorgt? [Oh, you were worried?]” you looked at him surprised as he growled with huff. “Das ist schön, James. [That’s lovely, James.]” you mocked him with light smile.

You never would have thought that any of them, James nor Sam, would display any kind of concern of your person. It was even funnier, considering the fact you just did write a note for Zemo, so he would not be troubled about your whereabouts.

“Just don’t do it again, ok?” he looked miserable as you laughed silently at this revelation. You gently patted his arm and nodded to his ask. “You’re not going back there? To your things?”

“Nein, alles ist gut, James. Wir können zurückgehen und darüber nachdenken, was als nächstes zu tun ist. [No, everything is good, James. We can go back and think what to do next,]” you said and started walking down the quiet road.

“I’m afraid no, she wasn’t even there,” Bucky answered and looked at you.

Sweet Lord, these boots are comfortable, you thought taking each next step.

“Haben sie mit diesem Wissenschaftler Glück gehabt? [Did you get any luck with that doctor?]” you asked after a while.

“Verdammt [Damn it],” you muttered under your nose silently, “You’re sure about that? [Bist du darüber sicher?]”

“Yes, we’ve talked to some other scientist that told us, she went missing like three days ago. Presumably taken by the Power Broker, as she was last seen in Madripoor.”

“Verdammt [Damn it],” you repeated louder, which caught Bucky’s attention.

“Why is she so important to you?”

“Willst du wirklich, dass Walker länger ein Supersoldat ist? [Do you really want Walker to be any longer a super soldier?]” you answered with another question. “Ich denke, wir müssen uns ausruhen und dann überlegen, was wir als nächstes tun sollen, [I think, we should take a rest and the think what to do next.]“

“That’s good idea,” he shortly agreed as you came in the apartment.

You noticed Sam sleeping on the sofa under a blanket. Surely something that was taken care of by James.

“I really enjoyed this opera, you know?” you smiled softly hearing it, “It was nice to do something normal? I guess.”

“Ich bin erfreut, das zu hören, [I’m happy to hear it,]” you lowered your voice not to wake the other man.

You looked at James trying to figure out what was he all about. No doubt, he was a caring and a caring persona and that softened you. It was truly awful what happened to him in the past because he did not deserved it at all.

“Es gab nie eine Schwester, [There was never a sister,]” this sentence sounded louder than you thought after a moment of silence.

“I know, Y/N,” you turned to him with surprised expression, a question painted all over your face. “It wasn’t exactly that hard to figure it out, especially since I found your file in published S.H.I.E.L.D. documents.”

You sighed heavily, “Wie viel weißt du [How much do you know]?”

“Pretty much all of it. That you helped Zemo going after the Avengers,” he took off his jacket and hung it over the chair, then continued, “And I just found out about your ailment, you want to treat so badly, Y/N.”

“Okay, willst du dich ausruhen oder darüber reden [Alright, do you want to rest or to talk about it]?” you rubbed your eyes. It was quite late and you dreamt only about continuing your sleep but you couldn’t leave it just like this.

“Let’s talk. We still have some time.”

“Nimm dann die Flasche und zwei Gläser [Grab the bottle and two glasses, then],” you moved to the bedroom and made him space on the bed. “Es wird einige Zeit in Anspruch nehmen [It will take some time],” you said closing the door.

[jaskierswolf]

Yes Chef

My fic for the Novigrad Exchange! For the marvelous @ohnomybreadsticks

Ship: Calanthe/Eist Rating: E Summary: Restaurant AU with a healthy dose of smut? I don’t know. I’ll think of a better summary later 😂 AO3 link to come later on!

CW: 18+ smutty time, vaginal sex, oral sex, semi-public (they are alone but in a public setting),

The kitchen was sweltering, the chefs moving around the small space in an intricate dance that only they knew the steps to. The air was filled with a cacophony of smells; slowly roasted barbeque pulled-pork, fried onions and garlic, chocolate brownies. It all wafted around the kitchen in a mess, mouth watering and delicious. For Calanthe, there was nothing better than the hustle and bustle of a professional kitchen. She had been cooking since she was a child, her own grandmother had often let her help around the kitchen and Calanthe had been hooked. There was just something so addictive about creating masterpieces out of nothing. How could flour, butter, sugar become something entirely different? A cake, soft and melting in her mouth, flavours exploding on her tongue, almost better than sex… almost. 

The industry itself attracted Calanthe like a moth to a flame. It was undoubtedly a man’s world, and that pulled her in, the need to prove herself, a competitiveness that drove her forward in life. If there was one thing in love she truly loved, it was proving that the patriarchy was absolutely shit. Whenever there was an opportunity to prove that she was better than a man, she took it, and as she grew older she learned how to use that to her advantage. It didn’t take long for her to rise above her rivals. Her ingenuity and skill in the kitchen was unmatched, and she had a remarkable talent for ruling the roost. When she spoke, people listened. 

Opening her own restaurant had been a dream come true. 

The Jewel of Cintra. 

The cuisine wasn’t fancy but it was clever. She didn’t leave her customers hungry and wanting for more, but it was posh enough that she could charge a decent amount. It was also almost entirely locally sourced. That was the hook. Her restaurant supported local businesses, and she had crafted the menu using old traditional Cintran recipes. She was determined to preserve the Cintran way of life, especially with Nilfgaard slowly taking over the catering industry with their new wave recipes that blended old Southern style flavours with that favoured by the North, creating a brand new fusion.

Calanthe hated it. Cintra had a wealth of history and it was being wiped out.

It did keep her on her toes though, she had to constantly think up new ways to stay ahead, networking at conventions and collaborating with other local restaurants and breweries. It was draining but she thrived on it, and her head waiter, Jaskier, was an absolute blessing. He could charm any customer and handled complaints without even blinking an eye. 

So naturally she was furious when he’d handed in his resignation. The idiot had been snatched right under her nose. He’d gone and fallen in love with the head chef of Kaer Morhen, a gastro pub in Kaedwan, the pair had met at one of the conventions that Jaskier had gone to in her stead. Two months later, her best waiter had announced he was moving to Kaedwan to be closer to Geralt.

And Calanthe was left to replace him. 

The applicants had all been shit. No one could compare to Jaskier, lacking his charisma and easy going attitude. Those who might have stood a chance bristled at the idea of bowing to Calanthe, men who thought they could come into her restaurant and overthrow her. 

The misogynistic pricks.

Yes, the applicants had all been shit… until Eist Tuirseach. He was infuriatingly good, handsome, suave and seemed to already be completely head over heels with her. So, she’d reluctantly hired him. 

And she couldn’t bring herself to regret it. 

“Good morning, Chef!” Eist waved cheerily as she sauntered into the kitchen. He was helping Lambert wipe down the counters before service started. Her sous chef was a talented but prickly young man, and she trusted no one else to get her kitchen in order when she had her rare days off. He’d been trained under Vesemir from Kaer Morhen, but had been eager to escape Kaedwan. His boyfriend, Aiden was her pastry chef and, when they weren’t flirting up a storm in the kitchen, they were some of her most efficient workers. 

Calanthe felt herself blush as Eist winked at her. She blamed the heat of the kitchen. “It’s almost five in the afternoon, Eist,” she shot back. 

“Ah, but that is morning for a chef.” 

Calanthe scoffed. He wasn’t entirely wrong, she was a night owl, most chefs were, if they slept at all, but she’d also seen five in the morning more times than she would have liked. Delivery days were killer, and when they had parties and events most of the team were in the kitchen early for prep. 

“How are the books for tonight, Eist?” She grumbled, getting straight to business. It was easier that way. 

“Fully booked as always, Chef. Nilfgaard wishes they could have our numbers. No one else can compare to your skill and talent, not to mention your beauty,” he said with a caddish grin.

The same smile he’d used to charm her in his interview.

________

“Eist Tuirseach?” Calanthe asked as a handsome young man entered her office. He was well built, roguish in looks, and reminded her of a lost puppy. He smiled brightly at her as he took her hand, his grip strong and firm and for the briefest of moments Calanthe wondered what those hands would feel like caressing her body, rough callouses against her breasts. 

“Aye, that’s me. The Lady Calanthe?” Eist said, smirking as he cocked his head, making his tousled brown hair fall in front of his eyes. 

Her heart skipped a beat in her chest, and she felt a familiar warmth at her core.

Fuck.

Of course he had to be cute. He was the last applicant and she was really really hoping it would be another idiot so she could politely decline Jaskier’s request to leave before his notice was up. She wanted to keep the young waiter for as long as she could. 

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” she lied. “I expect professionalism in my kitchen, and you will refer to me as Chef.” 

And this was the point where most of her applicants had turned tail and run. Eist, however, blushed instead, his tongue flicking out to lick his lips, and there was a definite hunger in his eyes. “Yes, Chef.”

Calanthe swallowed. “Good, now… I have some questions, and at the end if you have any questions for me, you’ll be given the opportunity. Unfortunately my sous chef got called away on a family matter, but if you’d like a second person here, we can rearrange the interview.”

Eist smiled even brighter, adoration and lust shining in his eyes. “No, I think we’ll be just fine, Chef.”

____________

The bastard hadn’t stopped charming her since, and it was taking all her self control not to let him ravish her in the kitchen. They danced around each other and flirted like there was no tomorrow but… well, she didn’t want to give in. She knew what it would look like; the head chef and the head waiter dating. No. She didn’t want to give anyone the opportunity to question her integrity, but after months of being around Eist, she felt weak. The way their fingers brushed whenever she passed a plate over, the easy banter that made her laugh even when she was in a terrible mood at the start of the day, the disappointment she’d felt when Eist had booked off a couple of weeks to visit his family in Skellige. 

The kitchen had felt empty without him. 

And she just wasn’t as good at dealing with complaints. Calanthe had a short temper, and when people complained, she couldn’t help but take it personally. She got defensive and fought back. 

She needed Eist. 

She hated Eist. 

… Or perhaps she loved him. 

“We have a party of eight booked in at half-seven. No known allergies, should be pretty straight forward, but I’ve briefed my team and let your’s know too” Eist hummed, picking up his clipboard. “Most of the other bookings are couples and smaller families.”

“Fuck,” Calanthe hissed. “I hate big groups.”

“I have no doubt that you will be flawless as always, Chef.”

“Getting the plates out in one go is a faff that I could live without,” Calanthe groaned. “Lambert!” She barked. 

Lambert looked up from his station, his hair slicked back and his sleeves rolled back to his arms, revealing an intricate tattoo sleeve that went down to his wrist on his right arm, wolves running through the woods. He strolled over to her, crossing his arms in front of his chest, hazel eyes alert and attentive. 

“Yes Chef?”

“You’re in charge of the party of eight, I want you working with Eist and his team. No fucking around with Aiden, understood?”

“Loud and clear, Chef,” Lambert nodded then smirked. “Can we fuck around after?”

Calanthe rolled her eyes, swatting him over the head with her palm. “Behave, wolf.”

“What?” he gaped, rubbing the back of his head. “You and Eist are worse than us, and you still claim you’re not together!” 

“We’re not together.”

“Not yet, at any rate,” Eist chuckled.

Calanthe shot daggers at her waiter. “Get out of my kitchen, Eist. Before I get you for harassment.”

Eist quirked an eyebrow. “Tell me to stop, Chef, and I will, but you have yet to tell me no. One word, Calanthe,” he paused, giving her a chance to admonish him for using her name whilst they were at work, but he said it so reverently that she was too stunned into silence. “One word and I’ll stop.”

No.

The word should have been easy. 

“Don’t,” she whispered, and his face fell, heartbroken, and she could already tell he wouldn’t argue. “Don’t stop.”

She felt her cheeks burn, and the eyes of their audience were piercing into her soul. So, she cleared her throat. “Right!” she snapped. “Back to work!”

The kitchen burst into life once again, giving her the privacy to wink at her waiter. “Later?” he mouthed at her, and she nodded. 

The dinner service went by in a blur. It was busy enough that she didn’t have to think about anything but the quality of the food her chefs were serving. She’d rolled up her sleeves and got stuck in, flitting about between stations and helping wherever she was needed, supervising and delegating the tasks, running a tight kitchen as she always did. However, that didn’t stop her from feeling a little giddy whenever Eist flew through the double doors, looking like some kind of Oxenfurt actor in his suit, the server’s apron strapped around his waist. 

Anticipation curled in her gut, the heat that crept along her skin was from more than just the ovens. There was a hunger in his eyes whenever he looked at her, and she wanted more. She wondered if his lips were as soft as they looked, whether his beard would scratch against her skin. 

It was all very distracting, but if anyone noticed, they didn’t say anything. 

By the time the kitchen was cleaned up, and she’d dismissed the last of her chefs, it was past midnight. Lambert waved her off with a lewd comment and jumped onto the back of Aiden’s motorcycle, the two of them speeding off along the road. 

“So,” Eist’s voice came from behind her as they stood in the doorway, watching the motorbike drive off into the distance, and Calanthe spun round in a start. “It’s just us.”

Calanthe smirked, her fingers wrapping around Eist’s tie and pulling him in for a kiss. The waiter groaned and went willingly, their lips melding together in a slow and languid kiss, noses bumping as they explored each other’s mouths. The heat crept along Calanthe’s skin, her heart fluttering in her chest. How had she denied this man for so long? She was already soaking, aching at her core with want, and soon, she grew impatient with the pace of the kiss. Nipping at Eist’s lip, she pushed their bodies together, forcing Eist back into the kitchen and towards the kitchen counter. Another day she would love to take this gorgeous man apart, fuck him over the worktops in her kitchen, but that would have to wait. 

She made a mental note to keep her strap in the back of her car. 

She had a very good feeling about Eist.

For now he seemed content to please her. He spun them around, helping her to wriggle out of her trousers and ruined underwear before hoisting her up onto the counter. She gasped into the kiss as his fingers teased her clit, slipping inside her wet cunt with little resistance. Calanthe’s head rolled back, her hands gripping the edge of the cold metal counter. The kitchen was quiet except for the sounds of their moans and his fingers pumping inside her. It was thrilling, everyone had gone home but there was always the off chance that someone would walk in on them. She moaned, rolling her hips to force his fingers deeper inside her. 

“Fuck me, you bastard,” she gasped.

Eist just winked. “Soon, Chef.” 

She expected him to finally unzip his trousers but Eist seemed to have other ideas. The waiter fell to his knees before her, pressing kisses along her inner thigh with a soft groan. Her hands threaded into his soft brown hair, guiding him towards her cunt. If he wasn’t going to fuck her then he’d better put that mouth to good use and she was tired of waiting. Eist’s stubble scratched wonderfully against her skin, a reminder of just how strong this man was, and yet he still knelt eagerly between her legs, as if there was nowhere else he’d rather be. 

“Fuck,” she moaned as Eist’s tongue flicked at her clit, fast and feather light and sinfully good. She thrust forward against his face and he groaned, one hand gripping at her thigh, the other joining his tongue between her wet folds. His fingers pressed inside her as he continued to lick and suck at her clit, moaning as he devoured his feast. 

Calanthe’s fingers stroked through Eist’s hair as he ate her out, hips rolling against his face. She felt like she was on fire, her skin so very sensitive and every lick of his tongue had her moaning, crying out in pleasure. 

“Stop,” she gasped before she could cum. 

Eist groaned but pulled back, staring up at her with dark eyes. His lips were wet and glistening, and he smirked as he wiped his mouth. “Chef?”

Calanthe raised an eyebrow, barely able to catch her breath. “If you don’t get your cock inside me now, there will be consequences.” The waiter closed his eyes and moaned, a visible shudder going through him at her words. With a quick tug on his tie, Eist was once again standing. “If you like eating me out so much-” she purred, “-maybe I’ll have to find something else to feed you with.”

“Calanthe,” Eist groaned. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

“Why don’t you show me?” Calanthe challenged.

That seemed to finally spur the waiter into action and he met her lips in a messy kiss, the taste of her own slick on his tongue. She moaned into the kiss, desperate and wanton as he fumbled with the zip of his trousers. There was a telltale rip of foil but when he pushed inside her, fuck, it felt so good. She easily stretched around the girth of his cock but he just filled her so completely.

“I’m not going to last, Chef,” he gasped, lips never leaving her’s. 

She closed her eyes. That wouldn’t be a problem, she was already so close from all his teasing before. “Get on with it!” she snapped, rocking her hips forward to the edge of the counter. 

Every thrust made her cry out, obscene sounds filling her kitchen as they both chased their release. Eist panted as he left messy kisses on her neck, nipping and biting at the tender skin. Her orgasm hit her like fireworks as she clenched around his cock, sparks flying in front of her vision. She gasped wordlessly as he fucked her through the waves of pleasure that just seemed to keep coming. Calanthe swore, the pleasure beginning to wane and her body oversensitive. Eist grunted as he followed her over the edge, his thrusts becoming erratic and desperate. She caught his lips in a sloppy kiss, their breaths mingling as he slowly came back to his senses, slipping out of her with a groan.

She pressed her forehead against his as they panted breathlessly in the otherwise quiet kitchen. One hand gripped onto his shoulders while a leg was still hooked around his waist. There was a disgusting splat on the floor as the condom fell off. Calanthe tried to keep a straight face, she really did but Eist snorted and let out a hearty laugh, his fingers lacing with her’s on the countertop. Mirth bubbled up inside her, a ridiculous giggle escaping her lips as they both looked at the mess on the floor. Soon they were both laughing, hysterically and without any restraint, their post-orgasmic bliss making the whole thing seem utterly hilarious. 

“You’re cleaning that up, Eist.” 

He groaned, capturing her lips in another kiss with a muffled “Yes, Chef.” 

Calanthe rolled her eyes and cupped Eist’s face in her hands. “You can call me Calanthe outside of work, you fool,” she said with a smirk. 

And her partner seemed to melt under her touch. Eist’s face lit up in a dopey smile that made her heart skip a beat. He took her hand in his and bought her fingers up to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers. “Yes… Calanthe.”

[superbattrash]

So we're doing payback, hm?

mmkay, mmkay. you got it daddy.

1) let's start easy, like you asked me, are you dom, sub or switch?

2) if you had to fuck either bruce or clark, who'd you fuck?

3) how often do you masturbate?

4) seconday gender?

5) okay, a little vanilla question; who was your first crush? *winks*

DA FUUUUHHHHHHCCCCKKKKKKK ???????

ma'am, excuse me, ma'am, excuse me, what do you think you're doing? ma'am. ma'am. MA'AM.

1) I'm a switch with dom tendencies. "How do you know this, Mish", you ask? Well, I thought I was 100% sub but then someone started calling me daddy as a joke and now I'm fucked

call me baby boy and I'm goo on the floor. call me sir? I will ravish you for hours on end, boy. (or girl, or baby, whatever you prefer<3)

2) WH????????????!!!!!

3) Oh, dude, like once a day at least if I can get to it. During my period I don't really like it though, because then I'd rather do it in the shower but you've felt my water pressure -- there's no way I'm getting off in there. So, uh. Yea. What was the question again?

2, again) HOW DAAAAAAARE YOU

4) Uhhhh. I shouldn't have asked you that, because I think I could be all of them. My first conscious thought was omega, but.. My first unconscious thought was alpha, actually? I'd be a softer alpha though. Very Clark Kent-y alpha. Ask a lot of questions, let my partner top if they wanted, do aaaaall the aftercaring. Oh, and praising. Yes, I would like to praise and pet my partner while I'm breeding their lil' hole 😈

2, once more) HOW THE FUCK DARE YOU?????

5) YOU LITTLE INSOLENT SHIT. *shakes fist at you*

Well, I liked the neighbor kid for most of my life (can you blame me? he's still gorgeous), but only because he was cute, I didn't really know him. So yes, you win, YOU were obviously my first crush.

2, for reals this time) Just one of them? Really? I can't choose that they just fuck each other??? No??? Um, okay.... I, uh. I guess.. I would... Shit, this is harder than picking my first born's name, man? Okay, I guess I'd choose Bruce, because I'm more like Clark myself. And Bruce could use a gentle dom. Yes. Final answer.

Phew, these were tough, man. Keep this up and you might win this thing XD <3

[psychemeanscure]

PART 29 {Finally!! and it’s been a week of stress indeed. 😞 But thankfully things slowly gets better and better for our Mum YJ 🤗 And for the record? I just wanna say, I’MAPUPPY!😂🤣 I maybe expert on reading smuts but I do am puppy in writing. hahaha. So for you  who was left hanging from the prev. part... Better live it to your imagination guys. keke}

Gentle breeze of summer hay, daylight hues of morning skies, a serene waves of crystal seas. And of course, what’s much more perfect for Jang Taeyoung other than his living Aphrodite’s side profile. Sitting on her daybed balcony, wearing an ash gray robe, drinking her set of bottled water. ‘Fresh from a bath.’ He can tell.

“F*cking hell.” Scolding his own innuendo while she ain’t even doing anything but sit!

A resting elbow, a root of knuckles assisting a tight jaw suppressing a taste of his volatile prey once again. Shifting gazes with a rising pet under the sheets of hot mess they’re in throughout the night. “I can’t blame you Bud. It’s been a while indeed.” Like a consoling friend to his long sleeping member. Yet, she’s beautifully tempting to ignore for so he decided.

Sung Eunyoung on the other side, cannot contain her smiling from coming. Feeling absurd by a single thought in mind. She, being intimate with the man she used to brush off her senses surprises her. Not in her whole life did she expect that but now? “Unbelievable. You are so unbelievable, Sung Eunyoung.”

“Unbelievable. Yes, it is.”

A breathy voice speaks after her. That the same person who exactly did a great chaos of her sanity. Jang Taeyoung’s snaking hand on the fabrics of her robe is enough for her to feel the tingling sensation she starts to familiar with. Slanting to get a glimpse of him from behind for there she is being drooled by those dark orbs which only sees is her and only her. She saw it all. The way her own reflection radiates the apples of his sight. And for the first time in a long time…

She felt proud. He’s solely hers. “Jang” She have to say it, like a validation she wanted to seal. And so she did. A peck to her shoulder, a rubbing thumb circling her belly as well as a seeming smile he gives in, and the sight that never left hers. She confirmed.

“Morning, sunshine.”

Before she knew it? She’s already responding, giving the same curve as he did. “Same as you, Mr. Jang.” Her smile that he cannot take, he eventually stole a kiss on her glossy lips. Thus she hissed a glare, frowning by the sudden chaste she least expected. “I knew it. Tss. Seriously, Jang Taeyoung. Hold it, will you?”

Just to garner his famous snigger. “I can’t promise though. You already awaken him, Eunyoung. You tell me.”

True to his words, she did felt its pet inside his sweatpants bulging behind her. Rolling her eyes, she retorted. “Por favor, Loco. You tire me so shut it.”

Much to her dismay, there ain’t much worse than a stubborn Jang Taeyoung it is. What’s new. A traitor hand sensually sneaking inside her, yet after a slicking smirk on his face. “Is that so? But it seems like I’m much tired Mi amor, considering you even went up first than I am. Isn’t it?”

A jolt from her own, and she’s sure she’ll going to deal another of his expertise. While a sudden image he almost forgot to open up pops his mind. “And oh! Speaking of first…” he begins his contractions.  “You’re a damn seducer woman. Sex education, eh? And here I thought you merely took up the common ones. Damn, if I only knew about it early I should have ravished you even back then. You and your wise mind it is, Ms. Sung.”

‘So he saw it. Mierda!’ she can only think of scolding herself. If not her being too occupied that time, she would have known what his contemplating stare mean the moment he stands in front her piled achievements. “So I was wondering…” thus he started his interrogating response.

“Since the educator has already enlightened the writer. Then isn’t it best for the writer to do his part too?”

Right after the impeccable swirl work of his tongue through her neck, he follows his judgement. “Here, in your daybed. You, my tempting empress and I, your welcoming slave. Writing a better version of Kamasutra. What do you think? Hm?”

And she lost it.

As to a delirious awe of her parting lips subsided, slumping back leaning by the nakedness of his chest, carves of its toned tattoos filling the heat of her whole soul. She accepted her defeat again, for rumor whom she cursed to avoid through a lifetime has it. Him, being the infamous Jang Taeyoung in bed that every bold ones looks forward to. Is indeed one fat truth! Which now she shamelessly admits includes her. A one big slap to her denials. A screw momentum for her living pride. She’s hopeless for she starts to become unsure herself between the reason of her own desire.

Was it because of the fact that he’s simply a natural taming scavenger? Or rather it was his effortless sweet talk calling of giving her names of his liking? Either, or. It’s just seems her writer has finally taught her of what a word insatiable means. A kind of pleasure that had slowly become her favorite thing. Before she realized? They eventually did it again. In her daybed. Feeling the sweats of their aftermath solitude. Hearing each other’s heaving breaths.

Sometime later. Reviving from a huffing state she opts to turn her head to face the weariless man next to her, spooning her and ready for a possible round he’s wishing. Yet, not on her watch as she quickly grabs his sultry hands off her. “Loco, please. I have other things to put at work. Spare me, will you?”    

Even when she ends up slapping him afterwards. Him and his slyness, what’s new. “Cabrón.” A set of warning before a groaning contrary by him happened. “Tss. You and your threats.”  

“And when did a simple warning become a threat,” Sitting up to fix her disheveled robe. Frowning to face the culprit himself. “Huh?” followed by a glancing inquiry she demands for answer. “Whatever smart Sung. As if you let me slip anyway.” A frustrated man came to visit for defiance.

She almost forgot to suppress herself to snigger. For heaven’s sake! She supposed to remain compose even, yet damn this sulking loco of her ruining everything that the only choice she had is to hold her breath to stop a bursting demeanor. Good thing she had her back on him that he’s clueless of what she’s up to, trying to make herself calm as much as possible.

Biting her lips for the last time, “You’re mad at me?” she managed to reciprocate an indecent follow-up, facing him. “FYI Mr. Sly fox, whose fault is it anyway that I have been bombarded with numerous calls from my superiors and so my presence is a must this instant? Good thing my phone is still working even after being thrown. I’ll definitely kill you if it isn’t. Tss.”

“Dare if you can.” Raising up while avoiding her sight, he sprints back inside her bedroom picking up his tussled summer shirt to as well cover his shirtless figure before mockingly staring at her. “As if I was the one who rejected the call even, when in fact the only thing I did was to tease you. That is.” Upset by how suddenly hard to button his shirt, a cussing Jang finally came by. “F*cking shirt!” a forcing hand frustratingly put on-hold.

And she can’t hold any longer. “Hmpp--- pfft! Hahahahah.”

“Now your laughing. Wow.” Indeed. She had freely put herself from laughing out loud, so enough to flex her low vibrato. “Really, woman?” Another of his rebuke for she still doing it. “Sung Eunyoung! I tell you woman, if you don’t stop I might just---“

“Okay! Okay. I’ll--- hahah--- sorry. Okay, uhum. I’ll stop. There. Are we good?”

“Whatever. Tsk.”

Sensing his mug menace, she eventually stopped for real, approaching the man who felt victimize. “Hey, cutie.”

“Did you just call me---“

Something sealed onto his lips before he could actually finish his sentence. It was hers to begin with. The savoring taste he cannot attain to sweep away for so in just a snap of it, his frustration fade away. As fast as that, she swiftly turns the table while he has to curse himself for being a muted cub with this volatile woman in front of him silkily volunteering to button his shirt herself before giving a scrutinizing stare that drown him to dive in the depths of his sensible soul.  

“Is this the real you, Jang Taeyoung? An ever persistent man with the woman he like? Hm?”

He remained speechless. Not long before he clamor to decide beneath himself. Proclaiming to dive along the eye-banging they begun to get used to. “Yes. And you have never been the woman I like, Sung Eunyoung. Let me just correct you in that part because you’ve always been a lover for me. That is.”

He confessed, and she was taken aback. Silently gulping on her own, she can only hide her fluster. She won’t let herself get defeated that easy. Not yet. Sliding away her hold from his nape as she crossed her arms provoking him instead. “You, sly. You pretty sure it isn’t just the lust talking?”

Levelling her pace, he countered back. A brow, twisting to bicker. “Given. You can’t blame me. I’ve been caged enough with celibacy, woman. Just so you know.”

“Is that so? Well sad, Loco. Seems that woman of yours can’t spend a whole day for you.”

“F*cking sh*---“

“La mierda. Halt that vulgar mouth of yours, will you?”

“Like who’s talking as well. Now woman, if you keep making excuses just not to spend time with me, it’s not working.”

She surrendered. A sweeping hand thru the air and a clicking tongue of mockery. She debated. “Aish. Fine. For the peace of your mind then let me just tell you Mr. Jang Taeyoung that aside for the urgent school agenda, I will actually go straight to meet my parents for dinner. There? Does it answer all your question?”

Crossing her arms once again before the unexpected bafflement she never imagined to see from him happened. Looking by his reaction, she was left confused as if he suddenly reminded of something he had forgotten in a while. Nevertheless, she crossed the idea anyway. Choosing her assuming one instead.

With a dreary sigh, she banters. “Right. How come I expect that my parents-pass will actually work for you. I’m foolishly hoping for nothi---“

“Oh…”

“Oh?” surprised by his reply, somehow she unconsciously responded the same before shrugging the thought off and obliged to fill her discontinued one different from the original she opts to be.

“--- Miraculously. Thank you then, Loco. Congratulation eh, that’s new.”  

She even dared to add some teasing at the end of her sentence, just to be unheard by still zoning man in front of her. “Cabrón?” Wanting to get his attention, she retaliates not knowing it was actually a start of a counter. An eyeing man bound to release an unexpected reply. “Can I tag along?”

“Of course, you sha--- what?!”

An embellish retort came after her indeed. “Come again, Jang Taeyoung?” A sassy man tacking its hands in his pockets responded instead. “I said can I tag along. So, can I?”

“And why would I?”

“You never know…” Shrugging off, a knowing smirk faces her.

“No.”

Thus the stern word she decides to give in. “Now if you’ll excuse me, Mister. I have to get change already.” Forcefully pushing the stubborn man behind her closed doors, a piercing shut has been heard.

~

But screw her for underestimating everything for it was still her in the end being clowned by what was happening around her all along. “What the.”

“--- hell?”        

[imagine-loki]

Blushing in His Colours, Chapter 25

TITLE: Blushing in His Colours CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 25 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki being a Daddy Dom, his adores and loves his little, worships the ground she walks on. She has vaginismus, but he couldn’t be more supportive with her. RATING: M

While Loki and Mia had been enjoying their vacation, the drone footage had been constantly all over the news, reporters always saying the biggest question was where was he now? Was he a threat to Earth? Who was the mortal he saved?

Loki made sure if they had the TV on it was never on a news channel. He didn’t want to freak Mia out. Though he had a feeling she would be alright with it, he still didn’t want to chance it.

The Avengers were still working hard and trying to deal with the World Security Council.

‘Where is he now?’ The head councillor asked.

Fury pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘He’s back on Asgard for now, until we get this mess sorted.’

‘Who is the mortal he saved?’

‘His girlfriend, Mia. She works for us, she deals with our social media. And before you ask, she’s gone to Asgard with him until he can return. They’re inseparable.’

‘Why was she at a Hydra base?’ Was the next question fired at him.

‘She was out with Natasha and Wanda, they were attacked. And Hydra managed to get away with Mia while the other two were knocked out. They came back here to get help, but Loki wasn’t willing to wait. I believe he really loves her, and I don’t blame him for going to rescue her. Not wanting to risk anything with her safety, so he just unleashed his powers to get it over with as quickly as possible. Can’t blame a man, a God, for wanting to keep his girl safe.’ Fury said.

The councillor said nothing for a moment, thinking.

‘We want to speak to Loki himself when he returns. We need a few days to discuss this, then we want a meeting with him.’

‘Of course.’ Fury nodded. ‘Give him a chance though, I really think he will be good for the team. He has been already, he’s been here for a while now and helped us on many missions. We all trust him. If he was going to do harm to Earth, I think he would have already done so by now.’

‘We will speak to you again soon, Director Fury.’ The councillor said in a rather clipped tone. The screens were then cut off.

Fury sat down with a sigh and ran his hand down his face. He had no idea if that went well or not. It had taken him long enough to get to speak to the head of the World Security Council. And it was over in a flash.

He just hoped that when they spoke to Loki it would go ok.

-

Loki’s invention of his squirting dildo came into play for a few scenes over the following days on the island.

Mia had always wanted to just be taken and ravished forcefully. So Loki set her up first by putting her dilator in, with plenty of lube, and had her put her knickers on to help keep it in. He had her clean some dishes and to just… do whatever she would normally be doing.

After a while of mooching around, she actually forgot that Loki had been planning something. Even with her dilator in.

But when he magically appeared out of thin air, a wicked look in his eye, she felt a rush of adrenaline and screamed as she ran off through the villa. Loki chased after her, growling. ‘You cannot out run me, pet.’

He grabbed hold of her in the living room and forced her over the arm of the sofa. Flipping up her dress, he gave her bum a smack. ‘Well, what do we have here?’ He growled.

She gasped and tried to fight back, trying to get away. But Loki grabbed hold of her wrists and hauled them behind her. Using the bangles, he had them attach together so her hands were trapped. Then he tore off her knickers and ran his fingers along her cunt.

‘Hmmm, seems you’ve been waiting for someone to come in here and ravish you.’ He nipped at her earlobe as he spoke, making her shiver. ‘You’re absolutely dripping wet.’

Pulling the dilator out, he quickly replaced it with the dildo. The roughness of it all was setting every inch of her body alight, there was very little resistance with the dildo. The dilator having done its job of keeping her open enough to get the job done.

Loki pressed his body against her back, crushing her hands between them, he used more of his tricks to have the dildo move itself and the same with the syringe. So he had his hands free.

He wrapped them around her and put one hand around her neck, not any pressure though, just keeping it there. And as he moved his hips against her, she could feel his erection grinding against her bum through his trousers. But she noticed with each thrust of his hips, the dildo thrust into her in tune.

‘Oh my god!’ She cried out as Loki and the dildo fucked her from behind over the sofa.

She couldn’t believe how real it felt, well, almost. But with Loki snarling and growling in her ear like a wild animal, feeling the dildo thrusting into her in time with Loki’s body moving behind her, it was no wonder she couldn’t last long as she came over the dildo.

Loki bucked his hips against her and he came in his trousers, at the same time he made the syringe shoot the sperm into her with the same efficiency of his own orgasm.

Her eyes rolled back in her head as she was filled with his cum. His hand around her neck gave a very light squeeze as he bit down on her shoulder and sucked, making sure it would leave a mark. ‘You belong to me now, pet. Every inch of you.’

Mia could only whimper in response as she felt like she had died and gone to heaven.

-

It had been about a month and a half in total that Loki and Mia were on the island. They’d loved every single second of it, just the two of them. Really getting to know one another even more, including on an intimate level.

Mia was able to take the next biggest dilator too by the end of it. And the revelation of using the squirting dildo was the best thing ever.

But they were called back to the Avengers base. It was time to return.

Loki wasn’t going to admit to Mia that he was nervous, he didn’t want her to worry. But he was nervous. He had no idea what returning would entail. What they had decided on.

But one thing he did know, was that he had Mia’s support and she would go wherever he went.

[jenovahh]

Comm 17 - A Little Help - NSFW

Rating: NC-17/Explicit Tags: Threesome (MxMxM), Anal Sex, Accidental Voyeurism, Blowjobs, Heat Fic

Commission Request: WoL is going into heat and Estinien has always been their partner. Not wanting make things awkward with G’raha who they have burgeoning feelings for, the WoL seeks Estinien out once more. G’raha notices the WoLs absence, and decides to seek them out... ====================================================

There’s no mistaking the sounds he hears from down the hallway.

G’raha Tia knows his face is as red as his hair, no longer tipped with silver mind you. 

The moans and sighs are unmistakable, familiar, and the sounds are so lewd he can feel his breeches already begin to feel a little too tight. His ears flick forward before flicking back in embarrassment, flicking forward once more as if he can’t help himself as he creeps steadily forward down the seemingly unending hallway.

The Rising Stones is empty, Tataru seeing to other business as she communicates with Krile who still lies in Sharlayan. Y’shtola and Urianger having mended their camaraderie have gone to research what the council could possibly be up to, most likely preparing to endure another late night up to their ears in tomes. The twins had busied themselves elsewhere, possibly still processing their father’s rejection. Thancred had gone out to attend to other matters, leaving with nothing but a wave and a smile.

Though he has always admired the Warrior of Light, even G’raha could not deny that he has not only spent time with A'von to be with his inspiration, his shining light...that he wanted more. While yes he knew his abilities could help their adventures, his reasons for joining A’von on his adventures were not so noble.

Even he could be selfish.

He knows not when these feelings of simple admiration and idolatry shifted into something more personal, pushing him to spend every bell of every day with A’von until they parted ways for the evening, each withdrawing to their own rooms. Part of him could not help but feel a little anxious for burdening the Warrior of Light with his presence every day, but could anyone blame him? 

He loved every second he got to spend with his inspiration, to see those pale, blue eyes crinkle and pouty lips smile at him as their tails swayed behind them as they trekked across Eorzea. On more than one occasion had G’raha felt A'von's own tail brush against his own, the fluffy mass unmistakably curling around his own for barely a second before withdrawing so fast G’raha thought he might’ve imagined it. 

He could barely sleep from thinking about it so much.

Try as he might, there was no running away from his burgeoning feelings for A’von, which was what left him feeling so bereft when he awoke to another day of the Warrior of Light mysteriously keeping his distance. It had been going on for barely a week now, A’von having started to nervously avoid him, until he became a ghost altogether. The only way G’raha knew he was relatively okay was from how he could distantly hear A'von's door close late at night when everyone had long since turned in.

Tonight was to be the same he thought, only G’raha had been arriving back to his room fairly late himself. He had nowhere else to go really, given his body had been slumbering on this world for the past few years, leaving him with nowhere else to stay save the Rising Stones. He had spent another night talking off poor Rambroes’ ear, sharing more tales of the future and the First and all he had seen. Passing on secrets of the Crystal Tower and its capability until he gave one good yawn and Rambroes sent him home just like old times.

It was quiet, whatever remaining Scions having long since gone home for the evening, meaning it was quieter than usual. It’s what led him to hearing moans and sighs from the end of the hall as he prepared to go to bed. He had been a little embarrassed of course, thinking that perhaps one of the other Scions needed release, and were thinking themselves quiet to races with average hearing. But one moan in particular let him know just which Scion was currently being pounded into the mattress.

He couldn’t help himself, cat-like stealth helping him sneak down the hall, toward the door that was cracked just enough that a sliver of light peeked out into the corridor. Just as the sounds got louder, so did the air, a familiar and long forgotten scent tickling G’raha’s nose and making him hard as rock in his trousers with each step he drew nearer. It was subconscious how his hand moved to grip himself through his clothes, not feeling such hunger since...he was in this body, strangely enough. Desire was the last thing on his mind when bearing the mantle of the Crystal Exarch.

“You like a good tussle as much as the rest...don’t deny it…” a man gruffly rumbles, the barely perceptible squeaking of the mattress finally making its way to his ears. Reaching the door, it's ajar just enough for his red eyes to peek in, barely able to contain his gasp at what he sees.

A'von is there, naked and sweaty and willing, his back to Estinien’s chest. Without meaning to G'raha eyes jump down A'von's bare torso to his cock, red, swollen, and leaking precum all over the place as it bounces lewdly with each thrust of Estinien’s hips. A'von's usually light eyes are darkened with lust, his trimmed claws biting into Estinien’s arm where the Elezen man has it wrapped possessively across his chest. Estinien’s other hand grips A'von's hip with bruising force, holding him in place as he controls the pace of his thrusting, leaving A’von no option but to sit there and take it.

He had been as in awe of the Azure Dragoon as anyone had the right to be, he thinks, despite the Elezen’s more standoffish demeanor. Having been the “new hire” himself, G’raha had taken to try and form a partnership of sort of being the two newest members, to which Estinien begrudgingly accepted. G’raha knew he didn’t genuinely dislike him as a person, but was more used to being alone, as was his wont.

G’raha had heard (or rather read) plenty about the prickly dragoon, noticing that he became more present as A’von had become more absent. Estinien had informed everyone he would be using this waiting time to take care of a few loose ends until it was time to depart, showing up surprisingly early as A’von had begun to make himself scarce. The seeds of jealousy tried to take root in G’raha’s heart, but he quickly quashed such thoughts. He was man enough to acknowledge that others had grown close to A'von in his absence; it was not fair to keep him to himself.

“You’re so beautiful like this, you know,” Estinien whispers, pressing thin lips to A'von's neck, tongue licking a stripe up to his jawline. “All hot and needy for me…” He growls, accentuating his words with a hard thrust, the sound of skin against skin making G’raha grip his dick tighter, needing some kind of relief as he played the hidden voyeur. He should step away, should turn around and go back to his own room, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from the sight before him.

“S-Stop saying such things,” A’von moans, grunting as Estinien’s fingers snake their way up to slip into his mouth, pink tongue darting out to lick them, drawing him into his waiting mouth. Estinien rumbles in approval, rewarding the Miqo’te by increasing the pace he fucks him. “Gods,”

“Halone couldn’t save you now...though you wouldn’t want that, now would you?” Estinien chuckles, making sure to fuck the Warrior of Light nice and deep. “No...it is your new friend you wish were in my place.”

“That’s not true!” A’von nearly wails, face flushing a deeper red from embarrassment.

A new...friend?

“Oh yes...it is not blue eyes you want to see. Go on and tell me more of how you wish for the heir of Allag to ravish you for all to see.” Estinien continues to tease.

“Estinien, be quiet,” A’von protests, even as his own hand goes to circle around his own cock in a silent plea for more. He handles himself expertly, eyes dazed as he tries to desperately thrust in his hand at the same time Estinien plows into him from behind.

G’raha is pretty sure he’s stopped breathing.

“I’m sure he would be more than amicable to your request…” Estinien hums, pushing down on A'von's back to press him into the mattress. G’raha watches toned muscle flex in Estinien’s arm as A’von’s tail curls around it affectionately despite the force Estinien exerts fucking him from behind. 

G’raha’s mouth is dry as the desert as he watches A'von's lust drunk face, holding back a groan at hearing the Warrior’s wanton sighs. He looks back to Estinien--

...to find the dragoon staring right back.

G’raha freezes, preparing to turn tail and run but the dragoon shakes his head, smirking all the while as he turns his gaze back to A’von. “Go on and tell me, A’von. Tell me how you came to me because you couldn’t face your feelings for your G’raha Tia.”

“Gods,” A’von moans, eyes rolling back in his head.

“You want him don’t you? Too embarrassed to have him see the infallible, unshakable Warrior of Light, his light and inspiration...reduced to a moaning mess.” Estinien continues, not having stopped his thrusting for one moment.

“Gods yes,” A’von moans, a smile curling his lips at the thought.

“Well, you heard him.” Estinien calls, raising his voice to clearly indicate he is speaking to G’raha. He feels himself freeze even more, stiff as a board as Estinien ceases the motion of his hips, giving the Warrior of Light just enough time for his thoughts to clear. G’raha watches as if he’s having an out of body experience as A’von turns in question to Estinien before following his line of sight to the door where he stands, unmoving.

A’von and he simply stare at one another blankly for a moment, before A'von's ears pin back against his head, hands covering his face in shame. “Raha!” he calls, and at the sound of his name without the prefix, so many of his fears scatter like petals on the wind. “By the gods, I hadn’t meant-- I mean,”

“Will you just ask him if he wants to join or sod off?” Estinien interrupts rudely, prompting A'von to reach back and smack him.

“Be quiet,”

“Von?” G’raha calls, stepping into the room. He pushes the door open to allow himself entry, closing it gently behind him, ensuring that it is shut. “Did you really…?”

Blushing again, A’von buries his face into the sheets in embarrassment, prompting an exasperated sigh from Estinien. “The bloody fool was too enamored with you to bother asking whether or not you wanted to help with his heat.” The Elezen grumbles with a roll of his eyes. “Something about not wanting to bother you, that you’ve just returned to this world and shouldn’t worry about such things.” He mocks, going as far to impersonate A'von's voice.

“Must you?” The Miqo’te whines, looking as if he would love nothing more than to disappear.

Estinien playfully gives him a smack on the ass, enjoying the man’s undignified yelp. “I must.”

Swallowing, G’raha carefully reaches for the clasps keeping his gear in place, praying he isn’t presuming over much. He and A’von make eye contact, everything and nothing passing between them for a moment. Despite their compromising position, G’raha notices A'von still has the gall to look ashamed, and it’s then he knows he must say something. “I...want this as much as you. If your words hold true.” He murmurs, unsure of his own voice.

A'von's large ears slowly perk up, blue eyes locked on him as if he wanted nothing else. “I...I hadn’t wanted to impose. I presumed that you didn’t want,”

“Of course I want,” G’raha groans, nearly falling to his knees to the side of the bed, reaching to kiss A’von who returns it just as eagerly, the two men groaning into one another’s mouths. G’raha caresses his face gently, always, always wanting, his heart doing little flips in his chest that the gods have seen fit to grant him so many of his wishes. 

G’raha feels A'von groan into the kiss, his eyes trailing to where he notices Estinien begins to slowly thrust again. This close G’raha can feel the effect of A'von's heat, his own breath coming fast as he stares into A'von's eyes, thumb trailing across the scar he knows his friend so adamantly hides. He can feel how he tenses beneath his touch, and so he moves to press his lips comfortingly to the scar, kissing every ilm as Estinien begins to one again build their pleasure.

“This is...okay?” A’von whines, claws ripping into the sheets as Estinien begins to pound even harder.

“More than okay.” G’raha groans, using this time to begin undressing as best he can from this position. His medallions clink together as his top falls to the floor, his hands nimbly picking out his hair pins and placing them with his top. “Though it has been some time, if memory serves, it may take two of us to satisfy a heat.” 

Hunger fills A'von's eyes at that, following him as he stands to remove his trousers. G’raha can’t help but flush red at how A'von's lips part and his tongue swipes across them, gazing up at him hungrily before eyeing the outline of his cock in his underwear. Even as Estinien continues to thrust, A’von reaches out and grabs him by the thigh, urging him closer to where he can pull down his small clothes, letting his cock spring free.

G’raha can’t help but groan as he watches that tongue swipe over pointed fangs once again, A’von turning his body as best he can to get a proper grip on his cock and pull the tip to his mouth. A’von eagerly begins to lick at his length despite the dragoon’s thrusts, eyes gazing up at him wantonly that does none of his wildest fantasies any justice.

His mouth feels exquisite, tongue warm and wet, swirling around the tip as he eventually gives up and climbs on the bed, turning himself to kneel directly in front of his companion. A’von groans thankfully as he fully dedicates himself to his task, bobbing his head up and down his length all while Estinien holds him by the hips and rams into him from behind. Each thrusts forces a groan from his throat, the vibrations travelling up his length, sending pleasure racing through what feels like every nerve in his body.

“Wicked white,” G’raha curses, having not let go of the phrase as A’von greedily laps at him, thrusting his hips back against Estinien whose groans have gotten more frantic, his pace more wild as he furiously pounds into the Warrior of Light. They grunt and groan together, G’raha committing the sight to memory as A’von calls Estinien’s name as he comes, pulling off his length to moan his release into his lap as Estinein too meets his end.

Estinien groans as he comes, head resting against his A’von’s back as he gives those last few thrusts to ride out his orgasm. G’raha watches as the two of  them catch their breath, A’von giving him a soft smile as he pushes himself up to bring G’raha down to him for a kiss. G’raha reciprocates immediately, their tongues dancing together even as Estinien withdraws, allowing for A'von to press forth unsuspectingly. G’raha scrambles to get his legs from under him as A’von straddles him, eyes devious as he holds his hand behind him expectantly. Estinien silently hands him the oil, G’raha watching hypnotized as he pours a generous amount in his hand before putting the bottle down once more.

G’raha can’t help but raise his hips as his lover’s hand wraps around his cock once again, the oil lubing him up easily. He can barely keep his eyes open, the pleasure is so overwhelming, looking through hazy eyes at how calloused hands rub him up and down. 

Having recovered, Estinien grabs the vial of oil, pouring what remains over two fingers before chucking it elsewhere in the room. Coming up behind A'von he slips two fingers into his sheathe, A’von purring, eyes hooded as he still keeps his focus on G’raha. “Good, you’re still ready. You ready to take him?” Estinien murmurs into A’von’s ear, taking one between his teeth and nibbling.

A’von nods slowly, finally releasing his cock as Estinien pulls his fingers from his puckered entrance.

Slowly, A’von leans forward, resting rough hands upon the smooth planes of G’raha’s chest, eyes not leaving one another as A’von reaches below to take hold of G’raha cock and line it up. Sinking slowly, the two Miqo’te moan as one as A'von slowly sinks down, G'raha hands coming to knead the flesh of A'von's thighs as he takes ilm by precious ilm. Even if he’s still stretched from Estinien’s own pounding, A’von savors each bit until they are flush against each other, his cock still hard and leaking pre cum as is warranted by a Miqo’te heat even after an orgasm.

A’von leans down to kiss him, his heart feeling ready to burst as A'von raises his hips to bring them back down. Groaning into one another’s mouths, G’raha feels robbed of breath as A’von nibbles playfully on his bottom lip, earning a surprised whimper from him at the action. Smirking, he watches as A’von sits back up, riding him earnestly, eyes on him. “Let me...make these past few days...up to you…”

A’von rides him like a man possessed, panting and mewling as he bounces on his cock. As if the sight alone wasn’t erotic enough, Estinien comes to claim A’von’s lips, the Miqo’te’s hand wrapping around his cock and pumping furiously as he prepares to meet his end once again. “The both of you,” A’von groans against Estinien’s lips, and G’raha knows he won’t last much longer either. “I’m going to,”

A’von comes, crying out as his seed spurts everywhere, but G’raha can’t be bothered to care as he finally releases, feeling his orgasm soar through him with blinding speed. His toes curl as he feels his seed spurt inside of his love, eyes fluttering closed as he gives a few more thrusts to ride out his orgasm.

It is his turn to catch his breath, finally opening his eyes just in time to catch A'von as he seems to collapse atop him. “Von?” he panics, until Estinien stills him with a hand.

“He’s fine. Just worn out.” He huffs, standing from the bed to cross over to a nearby basin. “You and I both know he could use the rest. Especially since he’ll pounce on us soon as he wakes.” 

Nodding, G’raha shifts A'von to be a bit more comfortable, scooting over to make a little more room for all three of them to fit. Given that they’re in Estinien’s room, he doubts anyone save Alphinaud or Tataru would dare pay a visit, and so he dubs it safe enough to rest his eyes, and join A'von in the world of dreams.