#dangle the long expensive boy over the water

[alasarys]

The Montreal table tennis adventure

[fuckmeyer]

Come Nightfall deleted scenes: lingerie

[in which Alice tortures Bells into coming to her own birthday party by gifting her increasingly expensive items]

Send pics. Xo

Alice.

I sucked in a breath.

From the box, I pulled out a sturdy dark green corset trimmed with lace and sex. A silky ribbon criss-crossed through the eyelet-studded back. At the bottom of the corset dangled little strips of fabric with those clippy things that were supposed to, I don’t know, clip onto some fishnets or something?

Underneath, in the box: matching panties and sexy black stockings.

As if dunked in acid, I chucked them back into the box.

Am I woman? Yes. Do lace and frills and corset boning terrify me? Also yes. An emphatic hell yes, in fact.

I can’t. My thumbs raced to type and send it.

Her text came in before mine went out: Shut up and try it on.

Actually, standing here in the mirror, I looked pretty good. My body had changed over the summer. All those weekends bow hunting and hiking and running and lifting with Jake, trapping and hunting with Charlie, and hiking with Edward had made my muscles lean. Also, I ate a metric shit-ton of guacamole and tortilla chips with Jake out on the porch. All told, I wasn’t getting any thinner, and I liked it.

Also also—I knew this from the changes I’d seen in my hair and skin—the bite had changed many other aspects of my body. So. It was reasonable to believe it changed the shape of me, too.

Long story short, I looked hot.

Not that I would ever wear something like this, ever. Especially not for Edward, whose meticulous commitment to chastity made it embarrassing for me to throw myself at him. If anything, I’d pull a Renee Dwyer and use the lingerie to eat pizza and watch old films alone. Dressing sexy when you feel your least sexy—the miracle breakup cure. Obviously Edward and I weren’t breaking up anytime soon, but since he made it a point to no longer touch me, I figured I had much to grieve and—

The phone beside me rang, jolting me from my thoughts.

Alice’s emergency number—area code 228, Bioloxy, Mississippi. Alice’s hometown.

I stopped breathing as soon as I accepted the call.

The other voice on the line growled, “Do. Not. Eat. Pizza. In the lingerie.”

My shoulders fell, relaxed; I sighed with relief. “Renee says one of the easiest ways to get over a boy is to drink a bottle of water, half bottle of wine, and eat a fourteen inch pizza in full lingerie.”

“What? Bells, do you know how much—"

“Get drunk, stay hydrated, eat and be sexy. It’s the patented Renee Dwyer Breakup Plan.”

“Do you know how much that lingerie is worth? Don’t answer, you’re wrong. It’s priceless, Bells. I made it. I dyed it. Do you know how much women pay for handcrafted lingerie sets? A lot. Do you know how good you look in hunter green? Very.”

“I have eyes. I know I look good. But—”

“Exactly. And do you know what doesn’t go well with hunter green? Pizza. Stains.” I opened my mouth to retort during her pause. She cut my question off with her answer: “Yes. I do hunt in full lingerie. On special occasions. It's not the same.”

“Wow. Okay, Jasper.” From the other line came rustling. “He’s there, isn’t he. God, Alice! —Never mind. I don’t want to know. Anyway, I hope you realize I can’t accep—"

“Don’t you even, Isabella Swan. There will be a lot more gifts where that came from if you don’t buck up and come to my party,” Alice said.

“Are you threatening me?”

“Depends on your answer.”

“Still no.”

“Then yes,” she said, “consider yourself threatened. You chose this fate.”

The line went dead.

[starboardsquiggly]

Together, Never Ever Alone Again

A small lookout a few minute sail from the port was where Zip anxiously found himself. He needed a walk, the yelling, constant belittlement, the jokes at his own expense was too much but… he weighed, was this not how every work place was? It must be because he’d heard how the Starfleet got on with one another when they came face to face, cracking jokes, laughing at each other. So why did this feel different to the way his fleet treated him?

There was a telescope at the look out, you could see all of the harbor through the lens for a dime, he didn’t have a dime, he was far away staring in, it felt better then being in the midst of it all. He could see his tug where he had left it at the bottom of the mountain. It needed to be treated soon, the stack puffed harshly and the shine had left the bow. Zip huffed, dangling his legs over the cliff.

He heard the sound of a match ignite. “I thought I saw someone come this.”

Before he could fall down the cliff in fright the Starfleet’s star child grabbed hold of his hand and pulled. He fell back as Zip fell forward. “Ah, shit I’m so sorry!” Zip scrambled to his knees.

He laughed. “Not a problem mate. Say…” Ten Cents took a minute to dust himself off. “What are you doin up ‘ere anyway?”

“I uh.” He un-winced when he realized no physical assault would come from this Starman. “I come up here sometimes, when it gets too loud, or too…” he wanted to say hostile. “Too much.” He agreed on.

“Aye.” Ten Cents leaned back on his hands. “Funny, I do a similar thing. ‘Cept I usually go out past Lillie Lightship when she’s not paying attention, I like that isolation of nothing but salty water filling my nose. Captain Star would kill me if he found out, so I have Sunshine back me up when I’m gone.”

“Sunshine is that new tug right? The one from up stream?”

“Sure is! whistles when he talks, has me double checking for a new ship trying to dock. He’s come a long way only after a month, but I amount that to my excellence in training him. Everyone would agree! Maybe not Top Hat, he’s to full of himself and his neck.” He laughed.

It was nice, his laugh, Zip chuckled along. It was nice to have someone to talk to aside from having to watch what he said. Ten Cents hardly knew him, but he spoke to him with the kind of respect a person would have for their long time friend. Why would he do that? What made him want to talk to him? He’s only a burden like Zorran and Zak say, why would Ten Cents want anything to do with-.

“Hey Zedstack.” Zip blinked the black spots out of his eyes, Ten Cents was waving a hand in front of his face. “Where’d ya go?”

Zip’s mouth started moving before he could think, something about Ten Cents made him do that. “Why are you still talking to me?”

The star was taken back. “Huh?”

“I-i it’s just, no one usually want to talk to me, to have anything to do with me aside from bossing me around or telling me off, I’m not much of a conversationalist since most things I say never matter and Zug says I’m no help unless the assignment is to cause a scene. And Captain Zero doesn’t usually give me any important jobs unless the others need help so I just.” He hiccupped, “why are you talking to me like I’m a person, and not a punching bag?”

Through his own tears he could no longer see Ten Cents, nor could he see the telescope or the harbor over the water. He blinked away the tears but more fell behind them and that was embarrassing, no man cries, not if they’re real men, Ten Cents is probably looking at him like he has two heads. He pulled his hat off to cover his face looking anywhere aside the boy sat in front of him.

It wasn’t until he felt a hand gingerly touch the whited knuckles that gripped the hat did he slide the hat down until he met Ten Cents did he move. He sobbed and Ten Cents pulled him into a bear hug, he was surprised that his strength being so small was so strong. He hugged back wanting to melt into the Star’s embrace and just disappear entirely. He was shaking but all that mattered to him was the embrace. He hadn’t felt anything like this in such a long time.

“No one should ever make you feel that way Zip. You are apart of their team, every team works together and needs each part to hold them up solid.” When Ten Cents pulled back Zip was surprised at his own tears that he rubbed at with the heel of his hand. “I’m sorry they make you feel that way, mate.”

“What?!” He held onto Ten Cents shoulders, “why are you crying?”

“Because you’re crying, because that stinks, because you shouldn’t have to carry all of that with you!”

Ten Cents hugged him again, Zip settled into his grasp. He could see the harbor now, but the sun had dug its way out of the clouds. It was warm, Ten Cents was warm, his chest felt warm. He could feel Ten Cents wiggle around for his pocket in their awkward position on the ground, He pulled a dime from it.

“Hercules used to take me up here when I was little, it makes you feel like you’re on top of the world. The trips on his tug over to this island made me fall in love with the water.”

They helped each other stand.

“Want to look out with me?”

Together.

“Together?”

Ten Cents put the dime in the telescope. “We can be on top of the world together. Never alone Zip. I never want you to feel like your alone like that again.”

He took the star boys hand and they took turns staring out over the harbour. Laughing at Warrior swatting off the seagulls who took off after the garbage in Lord Stinker and enjoying the far away feeling together, not alone. Zip never wanted to feel alone.

[drakenology]

Baby, Have My Babies - Ejiro Kirishima

summary: you and your pro hero fiancé take a romantic getaway for valentines day with one thing on his mind; baby making.

author’s note: oh hai! so this baby is for the corruption event @ultimate-astridwriting and @bummie is hosting for valentines day! shout out to them for including me 🥺. check out the other works that participated and as always enjoy!

warnings: smut! (minors no peeking!), breeding kink, use of the word “daddy” in the sack, unprotected sex, soft dom!kiri, prohero!kiri (the big bulky one with the long hair), dirrrrty talk, I cuss a lot and Kiri nuts a lot. all characters are aged up!

The night Kirishima proposed was a beautiful valentine’s night to remember. There you were, at one of the most expensive restaurants anyone could sit at in the middle of Bora Bora (your dream vacation spot), head empty. Just the image of your boyfriend, now fiancé kneeling down on one knee to pop the prettiest question.

“Will you marry me, baby?”, Crimson eyes full of love and adoration for you and only you as you gasp, your breath stolen as you watch him pull out the biggest diamond fucking ring you’d ever seen. Of course you said yes. Why the fuck wouldn’t you?

That same night you arrive at a hotel you were staying at in Bora Bora (the most romantic location to spend your valentines day). Kirishima saw to it that yours and his things would be taken up to the suite he had already reserved and decorated to surprise you.

You open the door swiftly, Kirishima’s chest swelling with pride when he hears your girlish squeal at the sight of the romantic decor (all done by yours truly). Flower pettles littered the carpet leading to the bed where countless gifts and a huge teddy bear rested. The room was covered in candles and roses and love. It smelled sweet like vanilla as a slow piano track played softly in the background. It was like a page out of a romance novel just opened up right in front of you.

Your eyes well up with tears at the wonderful gesture. Kirishima was always a romantic; his love language being gift giving and grand gestures, but he truly out did himself tonight. As you exclaim oo’s and ah’s at all of the suites glory you feel a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist.

“You like it, honey?” He asked, leaving a trail of fluttering kisses along your neck as you swoon at his touch.

“I love it. I love you, Kiri.” Gushing as you spin around on your heels to reach up and kiss him. Instinctively, He hoists you into his loving arms; your legs wrapped around his waist, his hands firmly gripping your ass as one falls to push all the teddy bears off the bed he needed you in.

He lays you carefully onto the bed and admired your body from way up there (boy is tall), drinking you in and groaning at the sight of your face looking up at him all flushed and innocent-like. God, he couldn’t wait to ruin you completely and thoroughly.

“I’ve been thinking baby..” Kiri started to say, ripping your poor dress in half with his seemingly handcrafted hands and chuckling at your high pitched squeak. “What if..” after pressing a wet kiss on your midriff, trailing the attention down just above where you wanted him. “..we tried *kiss* for a *kiss* baby..?”

You shudder at his minstrations, biting your lip as you feel him prod his thick fingers over your clothed pussy. You wince at the sound of his groan at the feeling of your wet pussy practically sticking to your panties.

“So whaddya say?” He persisted, cock growing at the burning question. You were already so drunk on him, his mouth leaving open mouthed kisses over your covered heat causing you to slowly lose focus on anything other than the thought of just being railed already.

“M-Mm-hm..” You manage, nodding your head as you feel Kirishima smirk against your panties.

“You gonna let me, baby? Gonna let me fuck that cunt? Hm?” At this point he’s slurping on your pussy as he’s talking to you with that filthy mouth of his. God yes, you wanted to say but he’s devouring so good the only thing you can say is his title.

“D-Daddy! Ughhn fuck.” You cry, nearing your end surprisingly fast as his soft lips wrap around your aching clit.

“C’mon, baby. Cum all over my fucking mouth.” He huffed against you, humming into your pussy as he reattached his lips onto the throbbing bud. You arch your back up off the bed, toes curling and eyes rolled at the back of your head as you do as you were told.

Curses leave your lips as Kirishima continues his assault on your pussy, fucking you through your orgasm and working on a second one as he now has those fingers inside you. You gasp, whimpering as he hooked his fingers just like always to drive you crazy. Works everytime.

“Daddy, p-please. S’too much!” You lament, trying to pry your poor overstimulated pussy away from the hungry beast devouring you.

Kirishima loves when you try to escape him; an ego trip floating in his mind as he watched you writhe and struggle to leave his strong grasp.

“Uh-uh baby, where ya goin’?” He teased, latching his mouth onto your pussy as he fingered you. His lips were replaced by his warm tongue, licking and sucking as he stroked your walls with his fingers. You melt under his touch, worrying that the other guests staying on your floor could hear your desperate cries for more.

“God, give it to me. Fuckin’ give it to me.” Kiri soothed, feeling your hands tangle into his long red tresses as another orgams ripped through your whole body. Your thighs clamp around his head as you shake like a leaf. He paused for a moment to take in your half-ruined body, hungry for the satisfaction completely railing you into a stuttering mess.

Kirishima sits right up and grabs your face to plant a sinful kiss, tongues tasting each other as moans exchange between the two of you.

He pulls away, slick coating his chin as he hoisted himself on top of you. He propped himself up on one arm, the other taking his bulging cock into his hand to tease against your dripping folds.

“So fucking wet, baby.” He panted, “Ready for me? Want my dick inside you? Huh baby?” He cooed, the only thing he can hear is an out of breath and whiny little baby begging for his dick.

Kirishima sat up, pulling you off the bed as he wrapped your legs around him. You mewl at his brut strength, him lifting you with such ease throwing you for a loop. You wrap your arms around his neck as he prodded himself at your soaking wet pussy, sinking your body down onto him as you both moan at the feeling.

“Gonna fill you so fucking good. You like that? You love it when I fuck you like this, dont you?” He rambled, your gummy walls felt so good wrapped around his swollen cock. His hands gripped your ass as he slammed you down onto his dick, the sudden deepness causing your nails to sink into his back.

You shriek everytime your pussy took him in, back arching as the head brushed up against your g-spot. Your legs are shaking again, watching your feet as they dangle at either side of Kirishima’s body. His thrusts are strong, purposeful as he used you like a fuck toy all while standing up.

Your pussy made embarrassing noises, Kirishima commenting as the assault continued more forcefully.

“Shiiit. I love your fucking pussy. So wet. All for me, yeah?” Your response frantic nonsense.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! Yes, daddy. G-give me more.” And so he does; his grip on your hips tighten as he slams you down slower and harder repeatedly hitting your g-spot at a new angle as he hunched over with you in his arms.

He started thrusting up into you, his large hand smacking down on your ass as he pounded you into nirvana.

“Mmm, you feel so fucking good, baby. Want me to fill you? You like it when I stuff you, huh?”

There was the familiar feeling coming yet again, stomach flipping and eyes fluttering as you sob into Kirishima’s neck.

“God, yes daddy! Cum inside me please, I-I need it.” You gripe, grabbing hold of one of your breasts as you attempt to grind into his thrusts in time with him.

“You need it, baby? Oh, I’m gonna give it to you. Just cum one more time for me.” He huffed, the feeling of your sopping wet walls clamping down onto him slowly becoming too much.

You pant, your face pulling into that little fucked out face Kirishima loved as you scream his name. Your whole body ignites, curses leaving your mouth as you cream all over his dick.

“Yeahhhh. That’s it baby. ‘M gonna fill you-fuck! I love you.” Kirishima said frantically; rutting into as few times before unloading himself inside you.

You feel his cum fill you up deliciously, the feeling of his dick throbbing inside you as he oozed causing you to whine. You feel him fuck his cum inside you; eager to breed you before pulling you off of his cock with a satisfied groan.

“Fuck sake.” He gasped. You were always such a good fuck. It should be illegal for your pussy to be that good. As he pulled out of your used hole, you felt the thick liquid drip out of you as Kirishima carried you to the master bathroom which was also candlelit.

“Let’s get cleaned up and keep this going. I can’t wait to see you waddling with my baby inside you.” He manifested. You hum into his chest as he cradled you like precious cargo, running the hot water for a bath for two.

“Love you” You slur, lazily dipping a finger into the bath.

“Ditto, babe.”

[murderousginger]

Diamond Mind

Tommy Shelby x OC

Word count: 1250

Warnings: They're criminals guys, they do bad things.

Note: When I heard that there was an all girl gang and that the Forty Elephants were well known for stealing expensive things, I had to write something. I found this image of an old article and it sparked a story. It's short -- most of my stories will probably be short for some time -- but I hope you enjoy it.

Tommy Shelby was sitting at his desk looking at the morning paper as the sun was setting, but he was also listening for the door. He found himself reading the same article over and over again as he waited for her to arrive for their meeting. 

She strode in, ten minutes late, a sly smile tucked under her fur coat.

"Diamond Queen, eh?" Tommy said, squinting at the paper as he flipped the page. "Nice ring to it, I s'pose. You always did have a flair for the dramatics."

"Didn't coin it or the gang name, sadly," she said as she sat down in the chair opposite him, letting her legs dangle over an arm of the chair as she played with her pearl necklace. "I decided to keep it. Calling us Forty Elephants, though, that seemed rather harsh."

Tommy sighed. Her smile widened like a Cheshire cat as she bit her lip.

"Hello, Thomas, good to see you again."

"Marjorie," he said evenly and finally looked at the woman in front of him. "Or should I keep calling you Diamond Queen?"

The strap of her black silk dress slipped down her bare shoulder as she ran her hand over her pearls while contemplating his question. Her fur coat hung off her elbows, hugging her in the seat. Not mink, but a coarser fur, Tommy noticed. Racoon.

"Steal a man's coat on the way over, Marjorie?" Tommy teased. "Can't leave the house without nicking something?"

"Yes, well, not all of us can cut our way through Birmingham," Marjorie said with a fake pout as she sat correctly in the chair. "Although I did teach the girls a few things thanks to you and your boys."

"So the paper noted," Tommy said. "Two razor gangs now."

"Oh, don't be so glum," Marjorie teased. "You should be flattered that you were an inspiration."

"Delighted," Tommy deadpanned before leaning forward and clasping his hands over his desk. "Now, onto business…"

"Enough small talk with an old playground friend, then," she mused, pulling a cigarette out of her coat and placing it between her lips. "You always were … short."

Tommy clenched his jaw, working it a moment before pressing on.

"Do you want jewels or not?"

Marjorie leaned forward, placing her elbows on the desk over his scattered papers and smiled as she placed her head in her hands. 

"Darling, I always want jewels."

Tommy leaned back and grabbed a cigarette, rolling it across his lips for a moment as he took her in.

"In order for this to work, I need your girls to infiltrate the Russian's home..."

----

Thomas Shelby returned to Arrow house covered in mud late that night. He passed by Charlie's room, pausing in the doorway to take a long look at his sleeping son. He let out a shaky sigh as Charlie rolled under his blankets, face relaxed despite all that he had seen and been a part of that day. He wanted to crawl into Charlie's bed with him, hug the boy and never let him go. 

Instead, he made his way to his bathroom connected to his bedroom and turned on the hot water for the tub.

He soaked, letting the hot water melt away the filth on his body and the tension in his muscles. Tommy Shelby had nearly lost everything for his greed and schemes, and somehow the devil hadn't taken him yet for his crimes. Somehow the curse hadn't taken everything he held dear. 

Not today.

When the water had turned cold, he rose from the tub clean of the night's acts, like a clean slate for tomorrow's deeds. He dried off and put a pair of boxers on and sat on his bed in the dark, except the moonlight from the open curtained window. He looked at his night stand for a long moment before finally reaching for the drawer.

"Don't tell me you still dabble in Opium, Tommy," her voice cut through the quiet as his eyes snapped to the woman sitting at his dead wife's vanity. "Ever the dreamer?"

Marjorie smiled a sad  smile as his hand twitched and returned to his knee.

"I didn't tell you to come to my home," he said evenly. "The plan was rushed. You can take your girls out immediately. It's over."

"I heard about your boy, " Marjorie whispered as she toyed with the perfume bottles lining the top of the vanity. "I heard about the explosion as well. My girls are already out of that insane family's house."

"Then why are you here?"

Marjorie looked at Tommy in the moonlight, the horizon on his chest, then to his haunted face.

"Not everything is business, Thomas," she said distantly. "Not everyone is out to hurt you."

"Fooled me," Tommy rumbled. "Stop that."

Tommy's hand stretched out as Marjorie toyed with another bottle, accidentally knocking it over as his tone changed. She quickly righted it and placed her hands in her lap.

"I only meant to check in on you," she said quietly.

"You've checked," he said. "Now leave a man in peace."

----

Thomas woke up early and had his usual morning cigarette as he watched Charlie eat breakfast. He went into his office early, preoccupying his mind so it wouldn't shift to last night's events.

Lizzie knocked on his door mid-morning, her arms crossed as she leaned on the doorway.

"Have a Marjorie here to see you," she toned. "Want me to run her off?"

Tommy sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"No," he answered. "Let her in. But come in with papers if she's not gone in ten minutes."

Marjorie strode in, another animal skin around her neck, a green dress hugging her frame. Tommy stood from his desk and gradually raised his head to meet the woman's eyes. 

"What now, Marjorie?" He asked tiredly.

"A bird told me you only got out with two bags of jewels," she sing-songed. "I'm here to help with your shortage."

Marjorie let out a low whistle and a handful of women in large fur coats came through the open door, lining up behind her. She let out a wolf's smile as Tommy's face flashed visible confusion.

"What is this-"

"Ladies," Marjorie said as she raised her hand and closed her fist. "Disrobe."

"Now-"

The women dropped their coats, revealing fingers, wrists and necks littered with jewels. 

"How-"

"We took them off of them in their sleep," a woman answered. "They were so busy fighting and fucking amongst themselves that they barely noticed."

"Oh," Marjorie said. "And this."

She pulled out a faberge egg and placed it on Tommy's desk.

"We've kept a few things," Marjorie said, fingers dancing over the egg as Tommy's eyes went wide. "As payment and our cut, of course. But if you ever need a lady again," she winked. "You know where to find me."

The women unloaded the jewelry onto his desk and left in a single line. Marjorie waited until the last one was in the doorway before she gave Tommy a curtsy and disappeared through the door herself.

Tommy looked at the small mound of jewels on his desk and collapsed back into his chair. He let out a sound of disbelief.

Lizzie walked in, papers in hand as her eyes scanned the empty room and landed on the pile in front of Tommy.

"Who was Marjorie?" Lizzie asked as Tommy chuckled and wiped his face with his hand. 

His eyes scanned the jewels.

"A friend."

Read a short drabble in the same universe here.

[thegremlincrowsnest]

A Slice of Cheesecake

Fatgum x poc!reader

CW: Slight breed kink, thigh fucking, mentions of vagina, slight anal play, creampies, mentions of daddy in a sexual way, kitchen and sex around food

Color Code

Orange: Fatgum

blue: Reader

Pink: Fatgums inner thoughts

WC: 1.7k

If you like my writing consider donating to my Ko-fi

You can also read this fic on AO3

Fatgum was definitely your favorite customer to bake for. Tips generously and an absolute beaut to stare at while you work. He always came past your shop on his breaks or days off just to watch you. “Ya know, I can always help fill those buns for ya sugar plum.” He would say with a smirk. You just giggle and shake your head as you continue to fill and dip your eclairs. You were finishing up some orders to deliver, and he offered to stay and help you out. You accepted his help with a smile as the pro-hero helped pack cupcakes, cookies, and pastries.

Everything was going great until you went to change. When you work, you wear chef pants, a plain t-shirt, and your apron. But for deliveries, your outfit was much. Much different. Fatgum couldn’t help himself as he stared, seeing your soft stomach peek out from your crop top. He has to hide behind your counter as you fix the garter belts from under your skirt. He groaned softly as he saw how your thighs bulge from the garter belt and thigh highs. Your skirt was absolutely sinful being so short, bending over. He got a glimpse of those soft pink lace panties. Walking around, he pressed himself against you. “Baby...I don’ know if ya should go out like that. Pretty thin’ like you could get devoured.” He says, deep voice low. His two large hands came to hold your wide hips. Groaning loudly as he saw his fingers sink into your love handles.

Looking up at him with big doe eyes, you smiled. “Oh~ well, I don’t have anything to worry about with a big strong hero like you, Taishiro~,” You say as you grind against his growing hard-on. You slip from his grip with a giggle as you finish packing up orders. “Ok, now let’s go!”

Walking down the street with you was a blessin and a curse for Fatgum. Seeing your thick ass sway in that skirt was torture ‘Little Nymph,’ he thought to himself. Going from customer to customer was easy enough. You were so sweet to each one, and he could only smile softly at you. Seeing you dote on each and every one. The sun was setting as you finished, and the teasing was getting worse. On trains, you were pressed so close to him, you smelled like sugar and warm spices. Your skin contrasted beautifully against his yellow costume as you held onto him. Brown, golden skin that he swore always shimmered in the sunlight. You both were able to finish earlier than you thought, so he decides to treat you a bit. You were already in the shopping district, and he saw how your eyes lingered on some of the displays. Laying a hand on your hip, he leaned down to your ear. “Would you like me to buy that for ya, Darlin?” He asks. You stifle a soft groan at how close he is; turning to him, you reply. “No! I should be treating you to something for helping me out today.”

His eyes darken a bit at those doe eyes you give him. Fuck, you look so cute. He stands up and looks around, smirking as he looks down at you. “Then I know how we both can win.” He says as he walks you down an ally, a hole-in-the-wall sex shop that you’re surprised the BMI hero would know of. As you both walk in, he brings you towards some expensive pieces. He tells you to pick out what you'd like as he sits down on a stool.

Watching you was a pleasure, watching you bounce around from display to display, skirt riding up as you bent down. He bit the inside of his cheek before he motioned for one of the employees.

You look up to see Fatgum whispering to one of the employees before looking back at you with a smirk. Picking a few sets, you walk up to him, face warm as you smirk back to him. He looks them over, letting out a low growl at the soft lace of one of the panties before nodding over to the employee again.

The walk back home was swift, entering your shop and making sure all of the blinds were drawn. Fatgum then pinned you against the front counter, licking and nibbling on your neck as he rubbed your clit through your panties. “Such a sweet boy for me...so tasty,” He says as he helps strip your clothes. He pulls out his favorite set along with a relatively thick butt plug. “If you’re ok with this, Darlin, I’d love to see you wear these while you bake me a little cheesecake, baby.” He says as he holds them out for you. You nod quickly, slipping on the lingerie and bending over to prep your ass. Before you can open the cap for the lube, he stops you. “Please sugah let me help ya.” He says as he pours lube over your hole. Groaning softly at how you clench around nothing. Gently pushing a finger against your hole, kissing down your back, he pushes one in. It takes a few minutes of him kissing your neck and ear as he stretches you out before sliding the lubed-up plug into your ass. You whimper at the stretch, your pussy dripping with arousal as he pulls up your panties. He kisses you deeply before patting your ass to the kitchen.

Cooking while being watched was something you were used to before, but with the current circumstances, your head was foggy. Fatgum would come up behind you to “help,” pressing the plug in your ass or groping your breast. Finally, as you placed the cheesecake in the oven with a water bath, you began prepping some toppings. As you began to whip up some cream, he decided it was time to push further. Pulling your panties down, he pressed your thighs together. Bending you over, he lifted you gently as he slid his cock between your thighs. Moaning softly at the heat radiating from your dripping center. Your head was spinning; you could smell his arousal mixed in with sweat. You desperately wanted to get on your knees and bury your nose in it. He was no better; wafts of your arousal filled his nose as the soft plushness of your thighs squeezed him perfectly.

You groan softly as you feel the head of his cock brush against your clit. Looking up at him, you whimper, “P-Please Taishiro. Fuck me, I can’t stand the teasing anymore.” You beg. In response, he spreads your thighs apart and presses you down onto the counter. He can’t help himself but allow his hands to wander over your soft skin, admiring every stretch mark, scar and blemish. “Fuck Baby Boy… ‘Ave I ever told ya how beautiful you are?” He asks as he undoes your top. You’re about to respond until you feel his large hands grope your breast. Kneading them gently, your body shivers, “N-No, but I could tell with how you look at me.” You respond with a soft smile.

He leans down and kisses you gently on the lips, cradling your face in his hands like you’ll break at any second. He lifts one of your legs up onto his shoulder, wrapping the other around his waist. You gasp, seeing just how big he is, almost 12 inches long; it’s slightly darker than the rest of him, it's as thick as a can of soda, and you briefly worry about how it will fit. “Don’t be scared, my little darlin’. I’ll make sure you feel really good.” He says as he presses the tip against your entrance. He leans down again, kissing you deeply as he begins to push in. You whimper and grip his shoulders, feeling the head of his cock push through your entrance. He stops and gently pulls out before pushing back in, reaching down to rub your clit as he works his cock. Finally, after a few moments, he's able to bottom out inside of you. Even with your soft stomach, you can still see the outline of his cock in you. He moans loudly, seeing it as well; pressing down on it gently, he begins a steady pace. His large, heavy balls slap against your ass as he grips your thigh with one hand. The other is near your head, trying to keep himself steady.

“F-faster Taishiro~ Please faster!” You moan out as you begin to pinch and pull on your nipples. He doesn’t protest; pressing your knees to your chest, he starts thrusting faster. His precum fills you up and begins to drip down onto the floor; loud nasty slapping sounds reverberate against the tile walls as he continues his fast pace. He’s grunting like a bull as he sees your breast and stomach squished under your thighs and his hands. You’re so soft and sweet and beautiful to him; he wants to take you home and spoil you.

“Taishiro! Oh my god, I’m gonna cum!” You moan out as you feel your walls tighten around his cock. He grunts as he holds you close, face nuzzled into your tight curls as he wraps his arms around you, legs dangling off of his broad shoulders. “Cum for me, Sugah Plum~ Cum all over daddy’s cock” He grunts as he moves you like a fleshlight. “Daddy daddy daddy! Fill me up! Please fill me up!” You respond. He leans back to watch your face as he thrusts as deeply as he can before holding you down on his cock. He groans loudly as his cock twitches pumping you full of cum. His body shivers as he can’t help but continue to hump you gently as he breeds you. You don’t fight it, tightening your legs around him as your cunt milks him.

You’re both blissed-out, kissing each other sloppily as he humps you. Tongues and teeth clash together as you pant for more. “Y-Y/n, I love you, I love you please be mine.” He says as he reaches down to rub your clit, extending your orgasm along with his. You nod frantically as he licks and sucks on your neck, “I love you too~ Please mark me up, Taishi” You moan out as you feel his cock harden again.

You’re both startled by the timer going off. Not wanting to pull out, he holds you close to him with one hand as he maneuvers to get the cheesecake out of the oven. Placing it on the cooling rack, he looks down at you with a smirk. “I hope you have enough energy, my little cheesecake, cause I’m gonna make sure you reak of my cum for days.”

[lubdubsworld]

Falling for you ( Falling from Grace) Jungkookx OC ( Complete)

Chapter 1

[ Read the rest here : Chapter 8 ( Final)  

]

Rated : 18 +

Warning : . Fuck buddies? Or rather enemies that have sex. They just really hate each other but also can’t keep their hands off each other. 

Sweat dotted the edge of my hairline and I felt like my entire body was on fire. I was wet, so fucking wet and the sound of him ramming into me, over and over again was absolutely obscene in the quiet of the bedroom. I was on my back, a thin black tie cutting off my vision and all I could feel was the steady staccato of his dick pounding into me. 

“Oh fuck.. Fuck...Just like that Jungkook fuck....” 

I could barely recognize my own voice. Wrecked and ruined, breathy and almost a whine. 

My shoulders ached from being stretched up, wrists almost numb from the handcuffs that held my body up to the head board. I felt like my shoulders were gonna pop out and I panted, fuming at him internally because he’d done it on purpose, locked the handcuffs a rung higher than usual which meant that I wasn’t lying comfortably on the bed as usual . 

“Look at you.... look so fucking filthy like this angel....” He smirked down at me, fingers like a vice around my waist holding me up and almost off the bed as he pounded into me, each thrust carrying the entire weight of his muscled body. It hurt so bad it felt good. My thighs ached from where they stayed wrapped around his slim waist. 

“Fuck...don’t stop...” I felt my head fall back, the ache in my back intensifying. I was so close....so fucking close, I could feel the heat as it built up, licking its way up my spine,  The angle was perfect, his cock had a slight curve to it when he was fully hard and that just meant that he managed to hit my sweet spot every time he pistoned in. 

And God we’d been at this for so long now... almost a whole damn hour and my senses were frayed, my body so sensitive and wrung out that all I wanted to do was cum. 

So, of course Jungkook being the supreme asshole that he was, chose that moment to stop moving completely. 

My heart jumped to my throat in panic, my body lifting off the bed, chasing friction and his hold on my waist tightened, so much that I was sure he had bruised me. 

“Hmm.... Don’t think you’re in any position to be telling me what to do, baby....” He drawled, voice husky in a way that made my ache worse.

“What- no..wait you fucking asshole ...” I screamed knowing what was coming and refusing to accept it. Fuck i hated him... Fuck Fuck....

He gripped my waist and slid forward again , but instead of sliding in he slotted his cock between my thighs, pulling my legs together so he could fuck into the gap and yes, it was really fucking hot but I was so close....I needed him inside me ......

“Please....Jungkook please don’t...” I begged, dignity forgotten because I was not a fan of delayed gratification. 

“Shush shush.....What’d I say about taking what I give you.....and to be fucking honest, I’m not sure you really like my dick all that much...” He said, sounding thoughtful and my head swam in confusing. What the fuck was he even on about?

“What? Are you kidding me? I let you fuck me almost every damn night why would you-”

“So why’d you go have dinner with Namjoon hyung?” He pinched my nipples', both at the same time, twisting and pulling till I whines, eyes watering enough to soak the silk of his tie. 

“What -- That’s... We’re not fucking dating....I can have dinner with who I want....” I snarled in disbelief, tugging fruitlessly on the handcuffs. Why the fuck had I agreed to this?? 

“Not after cancelling on me, you can’t... And certainly not with my brother, angel..” Jungkook snarled right back and I flinched when I felt his hand come down near my face. For one horrifying moment I thought he was going to slap me but what he did was rip the blindfold off me. Momentarily still blinded, I blinked till he came into focus and felt that familiar and unwelcome swooping sense of attraction. 

Jeon Jungkook with his long midnight hair and ivory skin. Doe eyes that carried entire galaxies in them and those soft, thin lips that smirked at the drop of a hat. 

 Fuck him... Fuck him for being so fucking attractive that my heart stopped every time I saw him. 

He was staring at me and the raging anger on his face really shouldn’t make me wetter but it did. I wanted to sob as my entire body clenched, aching empty and desperate to be filled again. 

“You sent me a fucking dick pic... “ I whined in despair. “ You were literally in the office when I was at dinner with him , how the fuck was I supposed to know you wanted to see me....!!!?” 

Jungkook reached down and began stroking himself and I felt my eyes widen in disbelief. 

“Jungkook....” I warned, feeling the desperation morph into genuine anger now.

“I wanted you to suck me off in my office. Isn’t that part of what my dad pays you for?” He drawled and I felt fury bloom. Jungkook knew just the right words to say, whether he wanted to turn me on or make me feel murderous....  

He scooted forward , straddling my chest and I bucked hard, trying to throw him off but it was fucking impossible. I flinched when he slipped a palm under my head, gripping my hair and yanking my head up till his cock pressed up against my lips.

“You owe me a blow job, princess.....gonna open up?” He gripped my hair harder and the pain made me keen. 

“If you stick your dick in my mouth I will bite it off....” I growled, resisting the urge to thrash because it only made my scalp hurt more. He laughed at that and I stared at him, the pink of his dick right on my lips and for a moment I almost had a pavlovian response to it. Almost opened my mouth and took the hard delicious length of it into my warm mouth. 

Shaking my head just enough to dislodge the head off my lips, I glared at him , my stomach clenching as he stared down at me, wicked dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction and pretty red lips parted in that sexy infuriating smirk of his. He gripped himself harder, groaning as his eyes rolled back a bit at the stimulation. I stared at how his long fingers wrapped around his length , the way he was so shameless in chasing his pleasure. His thumb traced the head, finger dipping lightly into his slit and he moaned, almost shuddering at the sensation. I wanted nothing more to touch myself, at least relieve some of the excruciating pressure between my legs but Jungkook had planned this, had put me in handcuffs fully intending to leave me high and dry . 

I stared at him and he glanced back, his face momentarily open in pleasure, lips spit slicked and parted and tongue poking out as he let out a breathy, ‘ fuck’ and i knew he was close. 

He always looked like a fallen angel when he was close to his orgasm. Fucking beautiful son of a bitch.

But no matter how gorgeous he was, Jeon Jungkook was an incorrigible jerk and I knew exactly what he was gonna do,.

I pursed my lips shut and turned my head away when he came , snarling when the hot wetness coated my face. Jungkook always came like a fucking hose and I could feel globs of it cling to my face, even my fucking eyelashes. 

When I turned back , snarling and ready to unload on him, he was already crawling away, but not before scooping up the last of his release on his fingers and reaching down to grip my cheeks with enough force to get my mouth open.

I whimpered when he stuck his finger in, the familiar taste of his cum only making my body thrum in desperation. I hated him. Hated him so fucking much. 

“Taste good, baby?” He drawled softly, chasing his fingers with his tongue and licking into my mouth, swirling his cum all over my tongue with his. 

“My filthy little slut...” He whispered against my lips, voice tinged with so much feigned fondness that I nearly bit his lip. 

“Take the handcuffs off, you fucker.” I growled, watching as he slipped on his boxer brief and his jeans. I fully intended to grab the vibrator on my desk and get myself off the minute he let me out of the handcuffs. 

And next time.... 

oh, boy next time Jungkook was going to be on his knees begging me to let him cum.... 

He was sweaty and looked like a mess but he never stayed around long enough to even take a shower. Now that I knew I wasn’t getting fucked my attraction for him was gone, replaced by homicidal fury. 

“Hmm.... I’ll think about it.” He shrugged, reaching for the white button down on the floor.

My eyes nearly bugged out.

“What the fuck do you mean you’ll think about it?” I snarled. 

“Your sister told me she’ll be dropping by at around five today..... I’ll leave the key on the dining tanle. She’ll help you out...” He grinned at me wide and I felt my heart drop through my throat. 

I spluttered as he dangled the key tauntingly , whistling as he moved to the door. 

“THAT’S A WHOLE TWO HOURS AWAY JEON JUNGKOOK YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!!!!” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do I even want to know?” My sister stared at me in honest disgust and I knew I must’ve looked a sight , with dried cum all over my face. But i was barely listening to her. I knew exactly what I had to do....Knew exactly what I could do to have Jeon Jungkook frothing at the mouth. 

“Areum? Are you listening..?” She called out when I raced to the bathroom. I quickly turned on the hot water , grabbing a washcloth to scrub at my face. Jungkook was going to regret this. 

When I finished taking a shower, scrubbing myself clean and stepped back out, my sister was airing out the room.

“Mom has been talking about setting you up with people and here you are , whoring around with that Jeon brat....” She rolled her eyes at me but I ignored her, moving to the closet with my lingerie.

My mother had high hopes for me. After blowing through my dad’s entire legacy with her fancy clothes and expensive bags, she was now panicking. She wanted me to marry big and granted, Jeon Jungkook came from a filthy rich family but he was still the prodigal son and his father made it plenty clear that unless he danced to the older man’s tune, he would be out without a penny to his name.  

But that was none of my business. I wasn’t going to marry the dude. I didn’t even  like  him. 

All i really cared about was getting him back for leaving me unsatisfied today. 

 I grabbed the most scandalous piece I had, black and completely sheer. It left absolutely nothing to the imagination and I felt saliva pooling at the back of my throat just thinking about how Jungkook would react to this. The first time I had worn it, he had held me up against the wall and fucked me senseless.  

“Why are you here anyway?” I asked my sister as she began picking up the different pieces of clothing scattered all over the room, dropping them in the laundry basket on her hip. 

“Can’t I just come check on my beautiful baby sister? “ She smiled and I rolled my eyes . 

Hana was the perfect daughter in every way. She was a professional artist, married to the gorgeously successful surgeon, Dr. Kim Seokjin who happened to own the largest hospital in the country. 

And it was hard to hate her because she had endless patience for my shenanigans'. Because to be honest, this wasn’t the first time she had walked in on me lying debauched, courtesy Jeon fucking Jungkook. 

Which brought me to my current mission. 

“Okay. I’m fine. I’m actually on my way out so you can either crash here for a while or you can leave...” i waved dismissively, running to the bathroom to slip the dress on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I rang the door bell again, feeling my body thrum with impatience. Why the fuck wasn’t he answering the damned door? I was wearing simple summer dress. The fastest thing I could take off. 

“Areum?” Namjoon’s surprised face barely registered on my face. He was in his sweatpants with a glass bowl filled with chips and he looked completely thrown by my presence. 

 I shouldered past him, moving to stand in the middle of the living room. 

“Is everything okay? What’s wro-”

I grabbed the hem of the dress pulling it over my head and tossing it away on the couch. 

Namjoon dropped the bowl and if it weren't for the ridiculously thick fur rug underneath us, the thing would have shattered to a million pieces. 

His eyes were wide in disbelief, mouth slack in shock as he stared at me and i could actually see his dick swelling in hi sweatpants as I stood in the completely see through babydoll. 

“Where’s the bedroom?” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘Fuck, yeah...that feels so fucking good...” Namjoon growled , gripping my waist as I rode him, his thick cock stretching me out so good that I moaned in relief. Stupid fucking Jeon Jungkook.... Namjoon wasn’t bad per se but he didn’t know the nuances of what I liked. Jungkook had this sinful way of rolling his hips up into mine when I rode him and it always made me see stars. But no matter....this wasn’t the main reason I was here. 

“Don’t cum... I want you to come on my face .” I whispered softly and Namjoon shuddered, grip on my waist tightening.

“Fuck..yeah,.yeah,.,.,okay,,.,anything you say.,...” He stuttered.

I reached down to rub my clit because I wanted to cum too and I sighed in sweet blessed relief as my orgasm washed over me, my walls clenching around Namjoon as I rode it out. 

“Fuck, I’m close...” Namjoon whispered and i clambered off him to kneel between his legs.

“Take a picture.” I grabbed my phone and turned on the camera , pressing it into his hands. 

“Wh- What?” His pacing faltered and I didn’t let him think too much , lest he change his mind...

“I want a picture of me choking on your cock , Joon oppa.... A picture with you painting my face with cum..please...please...” I blinked up at him through my wet lashes and I could almost see his mind disintegrating at the visual. 

“ Shit okay.... okay...”

I wrapped my lips around his cock, sucking quickly and taking him in deep, my mind swimming with glee as he clicked away. 

“Fuck, I’m cumming...” Namjoon began and I pulled away, opening my mouth, sticking my tongue out just as he came , making sure I stared straight into the camera as the first few spurts hit me, right across my tongue. I stuck a finger in my mouth, making a show of sucking it and Namjoon groaned, clicking away more pictures.

“Fuck...tell me I can get these pictures...” He moaned and I laughed, crawling up to kiss him. 

“Sure baby.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I called Jungkook first, simply to give him a chance to redeem himself. 

The thing with Namjoon was impulsive and  while i didn’t regret it per se , i didn’t want to drag Namjoon into this without just cause. 

“what the fuck do you want?” Jungkook’s annoyed voice made my hackles rise.

“A fucking apology for starters.” I snarled into the phone. The fucking audacity!!!

“Listen , I’m on the way to Sana’s place.... So I don’t have time for your toddler tantrums. I’m hanging up”

And he actually hung up. 

I stared at the phone, shaking in disbelief.

I quickly flipped through the photos I’d taken , trying to find the one that would make him furious enough to ditch his fuck for the night. Sana? Who the fuck was she anyway>?

I picked the one that was most obscene, you could see my sheer bodice, my nipples and the curve of my breasts, Namjoon’s cock resting against my tongue, spurts of his cum over my tongue and my cheek bones and the highlight- my eyes staring right at the camera in defiance. 

Perfect. 

Nothing riled Jungkook up more than defiance. 

I opened snapchat , sending him the pic. 

I stared at the caption in satisfaction. 

 Your brother tasted better. 

I relaxed against the pillows, glancing at the clock over the door. It was a little past eleven but knowing Jungkook.... he’d be here within the hour. He had a key to my apartment so I locked the bedroom instead. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Kim Areum!!!!!!!!” Jungkook’s voice rang through the apartment rousing me from my nap. I blinked groggily and stared at the mirror.

11.25 PM.

I felt a smile creep into my face. A new record. 

The door into my bedroom shook on its hinges as he knocked on it. Hard. I moved to stand close to the door , reveling in the fact that Jungkook was on the other side, likely losing his everloving shit . 

“I’m too tired, Jungkook...your brother really put me through the wringer...” I whined piteously and the knocking stopped.

“Open the motherfucking door, Areum or I’m gonna fuck you so hard its gonna  put you in a fucking wheelchair .....” He growled. 

I smiled. 

“Good night Jungkook. Oh and you better leave soon...my sister is sleeping in the guest bedroom.” 

Ignoring his frustrated snarl , I turned the lights off.

Kim Areum- 1.

Jeon Jungkook -0 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Author’s note : I was just really inspired by that pic of pic of Jungkook in the see through shirt. Lemme know what you thought :-* 

[mimiwrites2000]

A Quiet Witness

AO3 ~~

Pairings: Armin x Annie

Words count: 3328

* Manga spoilers up to the last chapter

Summary:

A candle sees more than it could ever tell. And as it witnesses the lifetime of two miserable souls, maybe some stories are better left untold.

A story about Armin Arlert and Annie Leonhart... and a candle.

The candle flame sways.

Cold, crisp, and lonely.

Armin tucks himself in between Eren and Mikasa, under the cheap, thin blanket that was thrusted into their arms by a frowning soldier. Armin hugs his knees to his chest; the blanket isn’t long enough to cover his feet.

An old, straw hat sits askew on his ears. Its owner was gone for what felt like years, leaving Armin with his scent hanging on dangling hays and two lonely friends, one filled with anger, the other stunned.

Watching the candle flame, fluttering, almost distinguishing, before swaying steadily again— Armin cries himself to sleep.

A few feet away, a blonde girl watches him, her eyes unblinking.

~~~

The candle flame lits the small dorm in a timid cascading warmth.

Racks of beds line the walls, in each bed lies an exhausted trainee, breathing heavily through humid, sweaty air.

Armin, on an upper bunk, has a book in his hand, a book he keeps well hidden from prying eyes. In the middle of a hot summer night, he lies awake, a candle by his bed, a book on his lap.

He turns every page mildly, with the tips of his fingers; slowly, as the brown old paper’s rustling clamor in the silence of the night. His eyes skim over text he read many times before, he can recite the pages with their numbers blindly. Still, he reads the book as if it is his first time.

He stops at the page with a fading illustration of interlaced curves. A cursive title says The Ocean.

No matter how many times Armin reads these pages, he shivers and fights a smile. Even after an exhausting training, The Ocean numbs his pain.

It says that the ocean is vast, so vast that you can’t see the end of it. You can’t drink from it; its water is salty. Armin’s mind can’t wrap around the idea of salt surrounding himself from every corner. Salt was so expensive, very rare to find. If merchants saw the ocean, Armin thought, they might lose their minds.

The last line in that page says that the ocean is blue.

Blue eyes flash in the front of his mind.

He squints his eyes. 

Why would he think of her?

From across the room, he hears footsteps. Hastily, he blows the candle, tucks the book under his pillow, and closes his eyes.

The steps don’t stop at his door, but they tiptoe farther, away from the dorms, into the darkness of the forest. That blonde, blue eyed girl is searching, or maybe running, but her eyes falter back to the dorms, where the boy with the book pretends to be asleep.

She dives deeper into the forest, her heart in her throat, and she tries to run it off; exhausting herself enough that pain occupies her mind and bursts into every vein, travelling all over her body.

She positions herself in front of a tree, takes a deep breath, and swings her feet at it.

The rock hard tree against her leg is enough to exhaust her from the first five kicks— unlike the stuffed dummies or human flesh, but she picks herself up after each one and swings at it again, over and over.

You're here for your mission.

Her foot hits the tree's trunk again.

You're not here for anything else.

She hits it again, shreds of wood dart off.

You're not here to get attached, you're not here to get attached to him.

She loses her footing, hitting the tree at a wrong angle. Pain shoots up from her toes to the lower of her back, and she falls onto her hands, pebbles digging into her palms.

She clenches her jaw and squeezes her eyes shut, but tears ooze their way out. She watches them fall, darkening marginal spots of dirt into humid blackness.

~~~

The candle light flutters in the dim-lit room.

The darkness besieges the marginal speck of light, cradling it, swallowing it whole.

On a chair, by a desk, he sits, his head in his hands, thoughts weighing it down, hunching his back.

He knew it.

He hates that he knew it.

And he knew it, at that expedition, from the first glance.

And for the first time in his life, he wishes he was wrong.

He bites his lips until he tastes blood, flinches at the sudden stinging pain. He throws his head back, swallows a groan, then rubs his eyes.

He figured it out weeks ago, but tomorrow, he has to tell the commander that the female titan is someone they’ve been familiar with for so long.

 A traitor.

He takes in a shuddery breath.

A traitor.

He clenches his fists.

A traitor-

He knocks the candle down, its fragile flame immediately distinguishing, breathing its last breath in a flicker, darkness swathing the room in a victorious black raze.

That girl lays in her bed, watching the dark sky through the window. Her roommate is snoring, but that isn’t the reason she can’t sleep. She saw his eyes, his knowing eyes that pierced right through her armor, deciphered her codes and broke her locks.

This is what she gets from attachment, and she knew it before, but still dove into it, head first. 

She watches the stars, wondering if this is the last night she’ll see them.

~~~

The candle’s light kindles shyly in front of the flaming, roaring torches.

He could’ve gone down there without it, really, but something about carrying a candle in the middle of a dead night distracted him, made him feel less guilty.

The flame burnt almost steadily in the still air of the basement, only shifting with Armin’s breaths, staggering side to side.

He doesn't watch the flame, his eyes fixated on a girl.

What a sight…

He thinks, as the torches light seep through a heap of clear crystal, reflecting out of it in tiny sparks and beams of light that charades the basement in a warm facade. A girl floats in the middle, golden hair fanned around her face. Her eyelids are closed, but Armin memorized the blue of her eyes like the back of his hand. 

As blue as the ocean, he wonders, and he almost smiles, because he has seen the ocean long ago, in her eyes. Deep, mysterious, unfathomable.

A traitor.

A girl he never thought would meddle them into this hazard mess.

He puts his whirling thoughts on the shelf for a bit, focusing his mind on her. He opens his mouth to talk, but nothing comes out.

He has so much that he wants to tell her, but that night, silence appealed to him.

A minute or two, or maybe an hour later, he carries the candle and ascends the stairs to the door, stealing one last glance before he proceeds out the basement and to his room.

A few nights pass by, and he doesn’t go to the basement. Instead, he’s in his room, by his desk, a candle sitting in a pole of softened wax— almost melted all the way down. His tears drop in a quiet rhythm on the dark, shabby wood. He swallows his sobs, suffocates his lungs with chokes; walls are thin, the candle should be his only companion, the only witness of him crumbling to pieces.

But the tears never stop, once he realizes what he has for her, he can’t help it anymore.

He denied it for so long, but that night, it all attacked him like an avalanche, inundating his senses, besieging him and forcing him to face it; no escape from it.

He had feelings for the traitor.

A pathetic smile stretches his lips, pitiful for himself. He is young, barely eighteen years old, an age where he is supposed to be discovering life, experiencing, falling in and out of love. He’s supposed to be carefree, full of life. But for him, he had that one person who chained his feelings, occupied his heart. 

Out of all people, it is her.

He doesn’t understand. Emotions. He doesn’t understand them, they aren’t logical, similar to falling. He slipped and fell into a hole that no one can pull him out of, and he’s helpless, out of control.

Armin grits his teeth, squeezes his eyes shut, but the sound of tears hitting the wood doesn’t stop, echoing off the stone walls of his room.

Soon enough, the candle melts all the way down, until it flickers its last flame, distinguishing itself.

The darkness shys in the corner of the room, letting the moonlight shine on Armin, deciding that he has enough darkness in his mind, enlarging until it attains his heart.

In the crystal, she’s left alone with her thoughts. She can see a wisp of the fluttering torches from behind closed eyelids, but all is quiet.

She cries, in her mind, she breaks the glass-clear cage, runs out, runs and runs.

She never stops running.

But the coldness of the crystal seeps into her skin, reaching her bones, and she’s reminded that she did run away, but from her destiny, mistakes, and failures. They hung like a cloud of fog above her head, following her everywhere.

In the crystal, she cries, alone, her sobs muffle her lungs and tears choke her up, behind her closed eyelids, hiding in her skin, shielded by a glass-clear armor.

~~~

By a campfire they sit, the bonfire like a thousand candles all burning together.

She glances at him, he glances at her, but their eyes never meet.

He wants to be alone with her, for a few seconds, maybe a few minutes, but then his stomach clenches, and maybe it's better that they're not alone.

She looks at him, and if it isn’t for his unforgettable blue eyes, blond hair, and button-like nose— if it isn’t for his face, she would've mistaken him for another person. But it's him, older, taller, broader, different, but it's him. Something stirs in her, but she pushes it away.

They are on a mission to save whatever is left from the world, everything else can wait.

~~~

They don’t know how they got themselves into this. 

The cabin warms up and clothes are too much to be covered in. They fumble and grasp at each other. Through pants and huffs, they toss and turn. A candle shines timidly on a table in the corner of the room, lit by a soft moonlight that filtered through a small, circular window.

A moment before, they were on the upper deck, sitting by the railing, overlooking a vast blue ocean. They talked, then they cried, then ended up clutching each other’s hand in search of privacy.

She’s lost everything, has nothing to return back to, but in his arms, she finds one last thing worth living for, and she hangs onto it with white-knuckled grasp. She cries silently, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, legs around his waist. He leans back, wipes tears away from his eyes to get a better look at her. His worries lace his words when he asks if she’s hurt, but she only cups his cheeks and captures his lips with hers. 

They slow down. Armin stops to caress her thighs, checking on her, and she melts, her muscles giving out. He’s offering her mountains of affection that she craved for so long, it fulfilled her and flooded out of her in moans and whimpers. 

At that moment, she forgets about everything. 

She makes sure he does as well. 

She runs her fingers through his hair, slow and prudent. He shudders in her touch, and she smiles. She smiles because he’s shuddering with pleasure, and she couldn’t imagine in a hundred years that a soft touch from her would make someone crumble to their knees.

She doesn’t stop until he gives out and falls on her, his skin fuzzy and sensitive, his brain numb and empty. But he doesn’t let go until he makes sure she reaches her high too. 

And when she does, he wraps her with his arms, peppers her face with kisses.

He says one word, rolling off his tongue like a mantra. 

“Annie, Annie, Annie…” 

He doesn’t let go of her, pressing his skin into her. He closes his eyes and focuses his mind on her warmth, trying to obliterate a memory of a freezing cold crystal. 

She breathes heavily and steady, falling into a slumber into his arms, but he insists on engulfing her, not letting her go.

He watches the candle, then flickering his eyes back to Annie, as if to make sure she's still there. 

He tightens his hold on her, after all, this might be the last time he has her in his arms. 

~~~

The flat land stretches into an endless line until it merges with the dark sky in a blurry, bleak streak. 

Armin watches it all, through a silent gaze. He closes his eyes and fills his lungs with a quiet, long inhale. His heart whispers to him that it’s all over, with all the losses and tragedies, all is over. His mind nags at him, that all is a mere start to a new tragedy.

He sighs, and throws his head back, winces when a pain stings in his neck. He doesn’t know how many hours he has been sitting there, and he’s not sure if it really mattered. 

From afar, she watches him. Her feet fixated in the black-dirt ground, and she doesn’t know if she should approach him or leave him alone, after all, she doesn’t know where they stood. 

Does he regret his time with her on the boat? Should she talk to him about it? Or should she just leave him be?

If anything, most of the world was flattened in a merciless raze, and he has the rest of it on his shoulders. 

So she ends up watching him in silence, his back hunched, muscles visibly tense.

Someone calls her name, she turns around, and it’s her father.

~~~~

They don’t talk much, even though they spend most of their days together.

Even when they’re working in the middle of the night, sitting by a wooden table. Squeaky chairs rupturing the silence as others zip in sleepy steps around the room; another night of the ambassadors having to stay up late.

Annie’s eyes barely open, so she watches the candle on the table, barely blazing. So Armin gets another one, tilting it towards the other. Fire catches onto it, and the light doubles as the room falls in a fake warmth.

He takes a seat beside Annie, before opening a thick document and skimming through it.

Minds and hearts are complicated secrets, no one can scoop out the other’s thoughts, and no one can read a heart like an open book. Annie wishes she can embowl his fuzzy thoughts out of his mind, to make him forget, even if it was for a fleeting moment.

Just like three years ago, on that boat. 

But her hands chained around herself with misconceptions and misunderstandings. Only her eyes faltering to him in fleeting glances. 

He’s not much different than her. And her supposedly sneaky glances at him were anything but sneaky. Still, he tries to focus on the endless document in his hand that he has to go through before sunbreak.

Her mind is numb with exhaustion, letters on paper mingle and muddle. She can no longer feel her skin, and her eyes burn. His presence beside her doesn’t help it either. 

A rush of motivation pulses into her hand, with the question what is the worst that could happen echoing in her mind. She places her hand besides his on the table, before mildly resting it on his fingers.

Wrinkles form between his eyebrows as his eyes trace their hands up to her; he can’t see her face, she rests her head on the table, her face turned away from him. He can’t help it but smile. 

Slowly, as unnoticeable as possible, he pulls her hand off the table, underneath it, then intertwines their fingers. His hold tight, as tight as his sleepy state can allow him. His eyes skim over the document, but no words get to his mind.

She bites the inside of her lip, squeezing her eyes shut, as her heart raced in her chest. It’s stupid, part of her mind tells her, and it’s right. A few months prior their hands were all over each other, skin grinding and slapping against one another, and now their cheeks warmed and steam evaporated off their heads because of mere fingers touching. 

She pushes that thought to the back of her mind and rubs circles with her thumb on his hand, as she watches the candles burn themselves down.

Everyone in the room bites off a smile, trying to act like they didn’t notice their supposedly-sneaky move.

~~~~

The rain falls, and they're running to not miss the meeting.

Side by side, water splashing against their clothes, and maybe it's better if they do miss the meeting, for they are no longer presentable.

But it doesn't distinguish their laughter, their light steps, and lingering eyes. 

After all, they are safe, healthy and sound.

He takes her hand and hides under a canopy. They laugh, watching the rain drops falling into a harmony of ripples.

He gazes at her, her eyes light up with a smile, happy, relieved— unaware that he mirrors her joy.

"Annie," he calls out her name. She averts her head towards him.

He inches closer, a hand lands on her waist and the other under her chin. Her heart beats faster in her chest, the smile softens into a surprised agape lips.

Even though she played this scenario in her mind countless times; she freezes, her eyes faltering from his nose to his eyes to his lips.

And she leans closer, her hands on his chest.

She closes her eyes and gives in.

He's slow, takes his time in scrutinizing her face; her closed eyes, the rose blush on her cheeks, her slightly wet blonde hair framing her face.

He closes his eyes, leans in, capturing her lips.

~~~~

The candle light harmonized with the blue moonlight filtering through the window. Orange and blue, complementing each other in a gradient of warmth and cold.

Its light casting shades in the small bedroom.

The night was cold. The curtains unmove, so does the candle’s flame.

He turned his head on the pillow, watching the candle. Putting itself on fire, to give others light.

It doesn’t have a choice, Armin thinks, it doesn’t have a choice but to live in agony.

Stopping his thoughts from running wild, he tilted his head down, watching the blonde pressed against him. Annie, her hair a mob of golden locks. 

He covers her bare back with the thin blanket they shared together. She stirs, half opening her eyes. She peeks up at him, and once she meets his eyes, she smiles. 

“Go back to sleep,” he whispers, brushing hair behind her ear.

She gives him half a shrug, “No.”

Armin chuckles, sometimes she can be so childish and cute, and the best part is that she doesn’t realize it.

“Why?” He asks.

She gazes at his face, and she probes her mind for an answer, but doesn’t find adequate words to fulfill an answer. To tell him that how can she sleep now that she sees this? The moonlight is like a halo around his face. His blond, disheveled hair shifted in various luminances under a golden hue. 

She sneaks a hand behind his neck, and brings his lips down to hers. 

And he kisses her, under the moonlight, in their room, on their bed, in peace. 

After all these years, they give in to their hearts.

He blows at the candle, and kisses Annie again, that night, and the night after it, and after it. They don’t worry about the end of time, for as long as they have each other, for the moment, everything is fine. 

 .

.

.

Another Aruani snippet! this one is for @dudewhy3  <3 prompt was Candle

thank you so much Euni (@arminsannie) for beta reading this! you were such a great help, thank you so much <3

I hope you enjoyed this, this kinda stories is kinda... hard to write for me I hope I did it well feedback, comments, kudos are appreciated love yall uwu

[luxekook]

stay in your lane | jjk

⇥ pairing: jungkook x reader ⇥ genre:  e2l / college au / smut / fluff / crack ⇥ summary: in which the reader is the captain of the women’s swim team and jungkook is the “golden freshman” of the men’s swim team... OR in which jungkook is overtly whipped for the reader and acts out in any way possible to gain her love and attention - no matter the consequence. ⇥ word count: 5.8k ⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, Vine references, dirty talk, sub!jk, dom!reader, jungkook being the biggest brat, swimming lingo, college athlete party, drinking, body shots, noona kink™, smut (edging/orgasm denial, face sitting, oral [m + f receiving], unprotected sex [wrap it, plz], spitting, cum eating [i am sorry skksks])

In all your twenty-two years of living, you never encountered anyone as openly cocky as Jeon Jungkook. You stared in disbelief as the boy posed and preened from his lane of the pool, throwing his fist in the air and flexing his muscles.

“He is such a hoe for attention,” Your teammate Lina said, shaking her head next to you and reluctantly clapping along with the crowd gathered for the Regional Swimming and Diving Championships.

You nodded in agreement, plastering a fake smile on your face as you forced your hands to clap. As the captain of your college’s women’s swim team, you had to keep up appearances after all. You cheered for everyone - regardless of how infuriating they might be.

When you were appointed as captain this past fall, you were fucking thrilled.

Leadership came naturally to you, and it always felt good when it was recognized by others. For you, being a leader meant being a bad bitch - powerful, fearless, intimidated by no one.

And a bad bitch you were. You liked to quietly dominate in pretty much all facets of your life. You aced your studies, you broke records, you fucked hard.

But this year, your fucking senior year, you were consistently being pressed, your dominance constantly being questioned, your restraint wearing thin.

And it was all Jungkook’s fault.

It all started at the beginning of the swim season... You had been talking to Kim Seokjin - the captain of the men’s team - before the very first practice. You had been glad the fellow senior was chosen, not only because he was a solid swimmer, but because he was supportive and such a laugh.

The two of you had been going over your competition schedules when a boy you hadn’t seen before had bounded up to Seokjin. “Jin-hyung! There you are. I thought I was running late, but it turns out I’m just really early.” You had blinked at the energetic boy who’d been way too excited for the 6 AM hour. He had felt your stare, looked at you, and continued, “Oh, hello. I’m Jungkook! Are you a freshman, too?”

Seokjin had stifled a laugh, and, for his sake, you had hoped it was at this Jungkook’s expense. “No,” You had glared up at him, ignoring his outstretched palm, “I’m a senior and the fucking captain of the women’s team.”

The freshman had turned bright red before smiling at you with renewed vigor, “So, you’re my noona then?”

“I prefer (y/n),” Your teeth had gritted together as your hands fell to your hips.

“Jungkookie…” Seokjin must have seen something on the younger boy’s face and had tried to prevent him from speaking again. It had been no use.

Jungkook had stared down at you with stars in his eyes as he announced, “I think I prefer you, too.”

And it had been precisely at that moment you knew that someday in the near or distant future you would enjoy disciplining that boy. Thoroughly.

Now, as if he felt your attention on him, Jungkook faced the direction where your team was gathered and locked eyes with you. His smile grew infinitesimally larger, and he blew you an exaggerated kiss with a wink. Your jaw clenched. It looked like you were going to need to have yet another talk with Seokjin about teaching Jungkook his fuckboy mannerisms.

Finally, the next event began to be announced, and Jungkook hopped out of the pool. You tried to turn your attention away from him, but you couldn’t. Not when he looked like he had been sculpted by the gods and had drops of water cascading down his tanned skin.

The proclaimed “golden freshman” strutted back towards your team area. His abs moved with each step, his muscled chest heaved for breath, his tight swim suit gripped his thighs and his crotch - basically leaving little to the imagination.

You stared at him with raised eyebrows as he approached, grinning at you and running a hand through his wet hair to slick it back out of his face.

Jungkook stopped in front of you and Lina, dangling his goggles from one long finger and swinging them in your face. “Did you see me win, noona?”

[That little shit.]

You swallowed your instinct to reply with a scathing remark. Instead, you remained cool as ice, just as you always did when Jungkook demanded your attention. It was your foolproof method for dealing with brats. “You know I did, Jeon. I have to watch everyone. That’s what good captains do.”

“Ah, that’s right. Captain noona…” His grin returned as you stared (READ: glared) up at him, “Always cheering me on and watching me win.”

“God, carrying that giant ego around must be exhausting,” Lina cocked her head and frowned at the younger boy.

“Are you talking about my dick?” Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows in mock confusion, “I mean, I guess it is pretty big. Maybe noona could help me carry it...”

You saw red; and, for the first time since meeting him, your perfect control snapped. Rising to your tiptoes, you gripped his neck to lower him enough so your mouth lined up with his ear, “Listen, Jeon. You better watch that pretty little mouth of yours before I tie you up and gag you.”

You pulled back. Jungkook’s eyes were blown wide open, his cheeks stained pink, his ears bright red. “N-noona!”

Lina was cackling next to you over how flustered you made the typically overconfident boy. You allowed yourself a brief cheeky smile at your friend before returning to a straight face. You needed to go get ready for your next race.

You had been trying all season to break your personal best time in the 100 meter butterfly, and you had a good feeling that you might just accomplish that today.

“I’m going to go warm-up,” You told Lina, grabbing your swim cap and goggles from your bag.

“Good luck, (y/n)!” Lina slapped you a high-five, “You got this. You are a legend. A queen!”

“A goddess!” Jungkook chimed in, peering at you from over Lina’s shoulder with heart eyes.

“Kook,” Seokjin swooped in and tugged the boy away from you, “Not the time. (Y/n) needs to focus! Good luck, babe!”

You gave the other captain a thumbs-up and headed down onto the pool deck. Faintly from the stands behind you, you heard Jungkook whining on about how Seokjin was allowed to call you ‘babe’ but he wasn’t.

Pushing that aside, you hopped into the designated warm-up/cool-down pool that was adjacent to the competition pool and proceeded to loosen up before your race.

Visualize the victory.

Take down the competition.

Leave nothing behind.

Fifteen minutes later, you found yourself hovering over the starting block, awaiting the starter. The natatorium was silent. You sucked in a breath and dove into the pool at the sound of the starting buzz.

Your body felt like it was on autopilot. Kick, kick, pull. Kick, kick, pull. Each time you took a breathe you could hear a split second of the roaring crowd. You pushed yourself faster.

Two laps turned into three as you sprinted. You didn’t dare check on your competition; those would be precious milliseconds wasted. And, as you swam your final lap, you didn’t even dare to breathe, swimming your hardest right until you hit the wall.

Gasping, you clutched the wall and swung around to look at your time.

00:51.34

Your best fucking time.

You felt like crying, laughing, and screaming all at once. As you shook hands with the girls to your right and left, you smiled hugely up at your cheering teammates. They had known how much you wanted this - needed this.

The next race began to be announced, and you hauled your tired self out of the pool. Immediately, you were swept into a tight hug by your coach followed by what felt like your whole entire team. Your cheeks honestly hurt from smiling so hard.

As you thanked your last teammate, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Noona?”

You had never heard Jungkook sound so tiny; and, when you turned around, you didn’t stop him from hugging you.

“You did so good,” He mumbled, head burrowed into your wet hair. “My noona is so fucking good.”

You melted at his words. It had been so long since someone had called you ‘theirs’. And, so, you blamed your post-adrenaline spike exhaustion for your following actions.

Your arms slid around him, tugging him closer. You felt every ridge of his hard body - separated only by the thin swimsuits you each wore. Your nipples brushed his chest, and you honestly didn’t know if the moan that followed was from you or from Jungkook.

You whispered, “Thank you, Jungkook.” Calling him by his first name was a rarity for you, and the muffled hum from the boy wrapped around you let you know it was well received.

And, when you pulled away from him, you made sure to run your hands over his chest along the way.

[That one had been on your bucket list, okay?]

Still so close to you, Jungkook stared at you with an unreadable expression. “Noona, are you coming over tonight?”

The men’s team always hosted the post-meet party at their house, and that was fine with you and your team. It meant no mess and lots of free alcohol.

“Yeah,” You pulled your wet hair over your shoulder, “I’ll be there. Post-Regionals is always so fun.”

“Well,” Jungkook puffed out his chest, “This year will be even more fun since I’ll be there!”

Ah, there he was - Cocky Jungkook™.

“You promise?” You smirked, tossing you hair over your shoulder as you moved past him, “After all, this is the only one you’ll get with me, Jeon.”

You didn’t look back at him as you made your way back to your team area.

But, if you had, you would have seen him staring intently at you with determination.

The challenge you had half-knowingly thrown down had been accepted.

Hours later, you and your teammates were decidedly tipsy from pre-gaming. 

“Okay, we should get going,” You said, checking your phone, “Jin said - and I quote - the boys are going to start rioting if we don’t get our sweet asses over there.”

“I bet he’s talking about Jungkook,” One of your teammates giggled, “That kid’s been trying to get with (y/n) this whole year.”

“That’s so true,” Lina threw her arm over your shoulder, “You might as well just fuck him and put us all out of our misery. We know you want to.”

You scoffed, pushing her arm off of you, “I will not be fucking anyone.”

“That’s what you said last year,” Lina fired back.

“Wait, what happened last year?” One of the freshman whispered.

You sighed, “Two words. Lim Jaebeom.”

A collective hum of appreciation and understanding rose from the group at the mention of the now-graduated swimmer.

Your phone buzzed with an incoming call. You rolled your eyes, answering it. “Seokjin, for the love of god, we’re coming!”

“(Y/n)!” Seokjin yelled at you through the cries of what sounded like an angry mob, “My death will be on your hands if you don’t show up within the next minute!”

“You’re so fucking dramatic, Kim,” You hung up on him. Every fucking year the men’s team did this. You swore they couldn’t entertain themselves without you and your team.

“Come on,” You marched to the door, “Time to go ruin some boys.” With that, the lot of you walked across the street to the men’s team’s house.

[Yes, they literally lived right across the street. Seokjin was the king of drama.]

Not even bothering to knock, you swung open the door.

“What the fuck is up, Kyle!” Lina announced your presence for you as she hurried past, “Your better halves have arrived.”

“Oh, thank god!” Seokjin appeared by your side, clutching his chest, “My life is saved at last.”

You playfully shoved him, “Shut up, Kim. Now, where are the drinks?”

“Allow me to guide you to them, my queen,” Seokjin grabbed your hand and tugged you over towards the crowded kitchen.

You let him lead you, greeting members of the men’s team as you passed by them. Your pesky little freshman was nowhere in sight.

“Captains coming through!” Jin screeched, “Part the seas!”

You shook your head in disbelief at his antics, laughing as people actually seemed to be listening to the chaotic boy.

“See what authority we have when we’re together, babe? We could totally be a power couple,” Jin grinned at you as you finally arrived by the drinks scattered across the kitchen counter.

You weren’t going to lie, Seokjin was hot. You knew it. He knew it. The pope knew it.

But, you had done the whole alpha male thing. It was fun, but just not for you. No, you wanted someone a bit more submissive. Someone who you could gently break and build back up again. Someone like—

“Jungkook!” Jin cried, almost bursting your eardrum, “Come take a shot with your captains!”

Busying yourself with pouring shots for the three of you, you felt Jungkook arrive before you saw him. The warmth of his body seeped into you as he appeared by your side.

“Hi, noona,” He greeted you, his arm nudging yours. You turned, taking in his ripped jeans and loose black shirt before meeting his eyes.

“Hi, Jeon,” You shot him a small smile. He looked really fucking good tonight. His hair was long and messy, like he had been running his hands through it constantly. His cheeks were flushed, and you wondered how much he had to drink before you arrived.

“Yes, yes, you have now exchanged greetings. Let’s move on,” Seokjin grabbed one of the shots you poured and hoisted it into the air, “To the best captains you’ve ever had!”

You threw your head back and laughed as you played along, lifting your glass in the air beside Jin. You felt Jungkook looking at you as if he’d never seen you act so carefree. And maybe he hadn’t.

The room echoed Seokjin’s declaration, and you took the shot, feeling the tequila burn down your throat as you locked eyes with Jungkook yet again. Heat settled deep in your stomach that you fucking knew was not from the alcohol you just consumed.

Jungkook’s lips were wet from the tequila, and your tongue subconsciously darted out to lick your own. His eyes latched onto the movement before looking back at you under heavy lids. “Noona…” The honorific came out like a plea, but you didn’t even think he knew what he was asking for.

“(Y/n)!” One of your teammates called to you from across the room, “Play King’s Cup with us!” You shot her a thumbs up. Fixing yourself a drink, you gave the now pouting Jungkook a lazy smile, “Talk to you later?”

You squeezed his arm briefly; and, as you sauntered away, you felt his eyes glued to your ass. And, naturally, you made sure to put a nice swing into it. God, were you actually going to do this? Were you actually considering fucking him tonight?

[Yes.]

You cursed Lina for putting the idea into the front of your mind. You cursed yourself for having that very same idea since the very second you met him. And you cursed the boy himself for being so outwardly arrogant but so sinfully submissive.

[Or at least you hoped he was a sub. God, how you hoped.]

You greeted the group gathered around the coffee table for King’s Cup and plopped yourself down between Park Jimin and Lina. Jimin smiled at you, his eyes crinkling and his cheeks pink. “Hi, (y/n)! I’m surprised Jungkook let you leave his side.”

Your eyebrows flew up, “And what makes you think I let Jungkook dictate my actions?”

Jimin gulped, eyes searching around the group for assistance and coming up empty handed. No one wanted to deal with your wrath. “I- I thought you were getting together?”

Lina let out a low whistle, “Jimin, you’re just a little too early, my dude. (Y/n), give the poor kid a break. Let’s play some King’s!”

Jimin let out a sigh of relief as the matter was dropped. “Sorry, (y/n). Geez, you’re scary when you’re mad, but also kind of hot.”

His admission cracked you up, and you pinched his blushing cheek, “Jimin, you’re too cute. Don’t even worry about it.”

Two boys turned bright red at your actions: Jimin from embarrassment and Jungkook from jealousy.

You didn’t even know how many rounds of the game you played before someone suggested playing something else. You had a pretty nice buzz going, leaning on Jimin’s arm and laughing at a joke Lina told.

“I’ve got it!” Kim Taehyung snapped his fingers, grinning manically, “Body shots!”

Chaos ensued. It seemed half the group was down, and half the group was against it.

You knew Lina had the fattest crush on Tae, and so you reluctantly joined the side in agreement. She shot you a grateful look. 

“Let’s fucking do it,” You got to your feet, “Jin, do you have salt and limes?”

“What kind of host do you think I am?” He cried, running over to the kitchen and pulling random ingredients off of shelves. “We have salt, limes, chocolate syrup, whipped cream, cherries, sugar, orange juice, pickle juice, pepper—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” You slapped a hand over his mouth, “Tequila, salt, and limes should be okay. God, were you really just about to offer pepper? As in the fucking spice?”

“Yes,” His muffled response came from behind your hand.

“You’re something else, Kim Seokjin,” You muttered before turning back to the group. “Alright, who’s going first?”

“We wrote everyone’s names down, and we’re going to take turns picking,” Lina said, thrusting a hat in your direction that was full of slips of paper.

“No one else wants to go first?” You looked around the room suspiciously and then shrugged, “Alright, fine.”

You dipped your hand into the pile of papers and selected one. Opening it, your breath escaped you in a whoosh, “Jeon Jungkook.”

The room erupted into cheers.

“Fuck yeah! Get it, Jeon!��

“Oh, this is going to be hot!”

“Yas queen! That’s my mom right there!”

You threw the slip of paper at Lina as she screamed that last remark at you.

Searching the room for Jungkook, you found him lounging by the empty couch against the far wall waiting for you with a shit-eating grin. Did the boy think he was going to be taking the shot off of you?

[Oh, how foolish.]

You approached him, grabbing the bottle of tequila, a shot glass, the salt, and a slice of lime from Jin on your way over. Jungkook opened his mouth to say something, but you didn’t allow him the chance, “Shirt off, Jeon.”

Whistles broke out as Jungkook froze, looking confused for a second, and then he tugged his shirt over his head. You praised your decision-making skills. His body deserved to be worshipped with your tongue. It was only right and just.

“Now what, noona?” The boy grinned, crossing his arms across his chest. A move you knew he only did because it made his biceps flex.

“Lay down,” You tilted your head, indicating he should get down on the couch, “And shut up.”

Jungkook’s eyes heated at your words. He obeyed, laying down just like you asked. However, he brought his arms up and clasped his hands behind his head. The fucking brat knew what he was doing.

You would punish him accordingly.

Your finger brushed over his lips before pushing the slice of lime between them. “Hold that for me, would you?” You murmured, hitching one leg over his body and settling firmly on his lap.

Assessing where to put the shot, you decided—fuck it—and placed it right between his legs.

Vaguely, you heard the people surrounding you yelling and screaming, but you were only focused on Jungkook and how round his eyes were as they stared at your hand holding the shot glass steady, dangerously close to his crotch.

Suppressing a smile, you poured a trail of salt down the middle of his abs. Finally unleashing your evil grin, you lean close to him with your hair blocking your face from the audience, “You ready, baby boy?”

He nodded furiously.

You flicked your hair over your shoulder and slowly lowered yourself over his stomach. Keeping your eyes on his, you swiped your tongue teasingly over your bottom lip. Jungkook’s chest was heaving, his abs were tensing, his eyes were hooded.

You licked slowly down his stomach, tasting the salt and him all at once. His skin was burning under your tongue as you delved into each groove of his abs, making sure no salt was left behind. Satisfied you had gotten all of it, you shifted lower still, ghosting over the now growing bulge in his jeans to hover over the shot.

Wrapping your lips around the glass, you tilted your head back as you straightened into a sitting position. The liquid coursed down your throat, but you barely felt the burn this time. You moved up, settling right on his hardening cock, and sucked the lime from his mouth.

Jungkook let out a breathy moan as you threw the lime’s peel somewhere over your shoulder, ignoring the indignant cry in response from Jin.

You kissed him, his lips sticky with lime juice and oh so delicious. His hands finally moved from behind his head to grip your hips. You didn’t even realize you were grinding into him until his hands tried to hold you still.

[Sorry, not sorry.]

Sucking his bottom lip into your mouth, you tugged on it before releasing it to place another soft kiss on his mouth.

“Okay, okay,” Seokjin’s loud voice broke through your daze, “No fornicating on my couch, please!”

“So, if we were married, we could fuck on it? Is that what you’re saying?” You pulled away from Jungkook’s mouth and laughed at Jin’s gobsmacked expression.

“Yah, so disrespectful!” He yanked you off of Jungkook and set you on your feet, “Okay, who’s next? Tae and Lina? Me and Jiminie?”

You shook your head at your fellow captain and turned back to Jungkook; but, you found the couch empty. Whipping around to look for him, you noticed one of your teammates gesturing towards the stairs. You shot them a thankful glance and darted in the direction the boy apparently disappeared in.

“Jeon?” You called as you reached the top of the staircase. Failing to hear a response, you moved down the hallway. Your eyes and ears strained for any sign of him.

Finally, your gaze focused on the closed door at the far end of the hall. A soft light emitted from the bottom of it; and, as you crept closer, you heard Jungkook cursing on the other side of it.

You knocked once. “Jeon? What are you do—” Your words died in your throat as you threw open the door and laid eyes on a very naked and very turned on Jungkook.

“Noona, I can explain!” He jumped out of his bed, fumbling around for his pants.

You calmly shut the door and locked it behind you. 

“Shh, baby,” You whispered, crossing the room and stopping in front of him. “You don’t have to explain. It made you hard, didn’t it? Having me on top of you, licking your skin, kissing your lips… You just couldn’t help yourself, hmm?”

Jungkook’s throat bobbed, “Y-yes. I’m so hard it hurts. Noona, please touch me.”

“I can see that,” You glanced down at his cock. It was admittedly big, and it reminded you of what he had said earlier about you holding it for him. “Jungkook, I want to make you feel good, but you’ve been such a brat to me this whole year. Why should I?”

You turned and began to walk to the door. As predicted, Jungkook rushed around you to block the exit, “Please, (Y/n)! I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll stop bugging you. I’ll return the swim cap I stole from your bag...”

[That was him? You looked for that cap for weeks!]

He continued, “I’ll stop trying to get your attention! I’ll—”

You grabbed his cock - a truly effective method to shut him up. “You’ll be good for me, baby?” Your thumb brushed across his slit, collecting the drop of precum gathered there. Bringing your thumb to your mouth, you licked the droplet off, savoring the salty taste.

He let out a strangled groan as you did so. “Fuck yes, I’ll be good for you. I’ll be your good boy.”

“You know,” Your hand returned to stroke his cock slowly, before dropping it, “I don’t think I believe you.”

“No!” Jungkook looked close to tears as he tried to bring your hand back, “Please, I’ll do anything!”

“Anything?” You sunk to your knees before him, “You’ll do anything, Kookie?”

He shuddered, “Yeah, I’m yours. I’ll do anything as long as you ask me.”

“Really?” You cooed, running your fingers up his toned calves and quads, “I like that the sound of that, baby. Okay, fine. But you can’t come until I say so, got it?”

After seeing him nod vigorously, you spit on the head of his cock and use your hand to spread the combination of spit and precum around.

“Fuck,” Jungkook hissed, leaning against the door, “Noona is so dirty.”

“Oh, baby,” You grinned, “You have no idea.”

And, with that, you took the head of his cock into your mouth and sucked.

Jungkook let out a choked groan, his fingers sliding into your hair.

You took him as far as you could and then swallowed around him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-” He chanted above you. You glanced up at him and hummed in amusement at his fucked out expression, and the stimulation from your humming only made him squeeze his eyes shut tighter.

You released him with a pop. “Jungkook, look at me when I suck your cock.”

“Y-yes, noona,” The boy blinked his eyes open and angled his head down to meet your eyes.

“Good boy,” You nodded and then licked up the underside of his cock before taking him back into your mouth.

You blew him hard, stroking the parts of his cock you couldn’t fit entirely in your mouth. Your mouth bobbed, your hands grabbed his ass, your tongue swiped over him.

“Please, please, noona, I’m so close,” he begged, looking down at you with wide eyes and a pleading expression, “Please let me come, (y/n)!”

You glared up at him, releasing him once again, “No.”

“What? Why?” Jungkook gasped above me, his breath coming in pants, “Please, can I come in your mouth?”

“No,” You repeated, your hand stroking him loosely. He whined, his hips straining to try to get you to grip him tighter.

You dropped your hold and stood, heading over to his bed.

“Nooo! Noona!” The brat moaned from behind you. You glanced back and scowled as you saw him clutching his cock in his hands.

“Jungkook, if you don’t get your hands off your cock in the next second, I won’t let you touch me.”

He dropped his cock like a hot potato. “I can touch you?” His eyes shone at the possibility.

You rolled your eyes and tugged your t-shirt dress over your head.

“Damn, noona, you’re so sexy,” Jungkook reached out to grab your waist but you smacked his hand away.

“Lay down on the bed, Kook,” You ordered, unclasping your bra and shimmying out of your thong, “I’m going to ride your face, and you’re going to make me come.”

“Hell yeah,” The idiot launched himself onto the bed and flipped over onto his back, “I’ve been waiting for this moment my whole life.”

You pinched his nipple and he yelped. “You’re such a dweeb,” You sighed, getting into position on top of him. He grinned up at you from in between your thighs.

“I think I’m in heaven,” He said, flicking his eyes across your body and staring hungrily at your pussy.

“Hm,” You shrugged and lowered yourself down just out of reach of his tongue, “I don’t know about that, but I do know that if you make me come hard enough, I’ll reward you.”

With that, you sunk down onto his face. His tongue immediately delved into you, flicking and lathering between your folds. His hands flew up to grip your ass, pushing you harder down onto his face.

[Fuck, you had never been more thankful for swimming and its conditioning. Amazing breath control? Check. Incredible stamina? Double check.]

You arched your back as Jungkook circled your aching clit. “That’s it, baby,” You moaned, reaching down to roll your hardened nipples between your fingers, “You’re doing so well. You’re making me feel so good.”

His pace quickened at the sound of your praises, his tongue thrust inside you, his nose rubbed at your clit. You felt the pleasure building and building. “Yes, Jungkook, don’t stop,” You looked down at him and his eyes were so dilated. He was looking back at you like you were the only thing that mattered to him.

And it was that look that pushed you over the edge. You came with a scream, your legs giving out from under you and your full weight falling on Jungkook. The boy took it, tongue unceasing in its movements, lapping up every last drop you have him.

As you rode out the last of your orgasm, you lifted yourself off of Jungkook and stood.

“I’m sorry, noona,” Jungkook said, breathing hard.

“What for, baby?” Your cocked your head, confused as to what he could possibly be sorry for after making you come so hard.

The poor boy blushed furiously. You glanced over him and quickly realized the problem.

“You came on yourself?” You murmured, stroking your hand through his hair as he gazed up at you regretfully.

He nodded, lower lip jutting out in a cute pout.

“You know,” You said, rounding the bed and settling in between his legs. “Usually I would punish you for this, but I think it’s really fucking hot that you came just from eating me out, baby. I’m just sad you didn’t come in my mouth or my pussy.”

You swiped your finger across the cum gathered on across his abs and sucked it into your mouth.

“I can still come inside you, noona!” Jungkook rocketed up into a sitting position, “Look, I’m already hard again! That’s the effect you have on me!”

You looked down and, sure enough, he was right.

“What a lovely surprise,” You murmured, “Now, should I let you have my mouth or my pussy?”

“I would die for your pussy, noona,” Jungkook said gravely.

“Always so dramatic…” You pushed him back down and lined his cock up with your pussy.

He bit his lip, watching entranced as you pushed the very tip of his cock inside you. A choked breath burst out of Jungkook as you sunk down lower.

“Noona, you’re so fucking tight. You feel so fucking good,” His hands clenched on your thighs as you took him to the hilt and rolled your hips. Damn, he filled you up so nicely. Your walls clenched tightly around him, every shift of your hips brought delicious friction.

“Move, noona, please,” He begged, “Fuck me.”

You lifted yourself up and sunk back down, reveling in the moan he let out in response.

“Play with my nipples, Kook,” You panted, beginning to ride him hard.

Jungkook grabbed your ass and shifted backwards. Sitting with his back against the headboard, his mouth descended onto one of your nipples.

“Oh, yes, that’s it, baby,” You moaned, grinding down onto him as he bit down lightly.

“You’re so fucking hot, noona,” Jungkook groaned, “And your pussy feels so fucking good. I always knew it would though…”

You gripped his hair and tugged hard, “Don’t make me follow through with my gag idea.”

You felt his cock twitch, “Oh, but you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“No,” He lied.

You brought two fingers to his mouth, “Suck.”

His eyes widened at your command, but his mouth opened obediently. You shoved your fingers inside. Quickening your pace, you bounced on his cock as he sucked on your fingers, moaning around them. You brought your other hand down to play with your clit as you felt your second orgasm rising.

“Are you going to come, Kook?” You panted, clenching down around him, “Are you going to fill me up? Are you going to paint my walls with your cum?”

He nodded furiously, still lapping at your fingers. His hips bucked up into yours, and you clenched down one last time before pinching your clit.

The onset of your climax set off Jungkook’s as he came hard. You tugged your fingers out of his mouth as the boy cursed and cried your name over and over.

The warmth of him filling you up felt so fucking good. “You’re such a good boy, baby. You’re my good boy.”

“Your good boy,” He smiled with his eyes still shut, “I’m noona’s good boy.”

Suddenly his eyes shot open and he frowned, “But for how long?”

“What, baby?” You shifted off of him to lay down at his side.

“How long am I going to be your baby?” His pout from earlier had returned with epic proportions, “Don’t think I didn’t see you earlier getting close with Jimin-hyung downstairs. And I know you let Jin-hyung call you ‘babe’! And—”

You cut him off by pressing your lips to his. “Shut up, you idiot,” You said, lips brushing over his, “You’re mine for as long as you want me and for as long as I want you.”

His pout remained, “But what if Jaebeom-hyung comes back?”

“How do you even— I’m going to kill Jin,” You growled before bringing your hand up to brush over Jungkook’s cheek. “Jungkook, listen to me. Yes, you’ve been a nuisance this whole season, but I always knew you did it because you liked me.”

You grinned at his blush and continued, “Well, guess what? I like you, too. God only knows why. You’re cocky and brash and loud and—mmmf!”

Jungkook flipped you over and attacked your mouth with kisses. “Noona, you like me?”

“Yes,” You groaned, shifting your face to try to avoid some of his affection, “I like you, you big brute of a baby.”

“Oh, this is so exciting! I’m going to have to plan the most perfect first date. Oh my god, we are totally going be that Swim Power Couple™. Holy shit, wait! Just think about how good our kids are going to be! We’re going to make a whole team of Olympians, noona!”

“Jeon Jungkook!” You screamed, “Kids?! Good god, what am I going to do with you?”

He smiled down at you and kissed your cheek, “Keep me forever, I hope, noona.”

You smiled back at him softly, “I think I just might…”

© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.

[rapspud]

Bittersweet

Bittersweet    A/N: Decided to rewrite this one. Please enjoy.

Yoongi looked at your friends as he sneered at your prone form sprawled out on the ground, your fingers scrambling to find your glasses.

“Aw what’s the matter? The poor baby can't see?” He purred as he picked up your glasses and dangled them in front of your face before throwing them into the dumpster. “Have fun diving!” He cackles as he slides past your prone figure, cruelly stepping on your hand as he passes.

You could hear the snickers of his friends behind you. You watched as his best friend, Seokjin clapped Yoongi on the shoulder, and whispered, “Oi, I get the whole I hate “y/n” thing but seriously—that was a bit much don’t you think?”

Yoongi  couldn’t believe what he was hearing, “She ratted us out! So I fixed it-and now she can’t see to snitch! And shouldn’t you be on my side? You’re in just as much trouble as I am!”

Seokjin could only look at Yoongi like he had a third head, “ Yeah I guess, but still...there is-” at Yoongi’s raised eyebrow he swallowed what he wanted to say, instead choosing to leave rather than to help Yoongi’s victim, “Hey I gotta go I’ll catch you later okay?”

Yoongi smiled and waved good-bye before walking away from the group. How could he possibly explain how much he hated Y/N? No one here knew the truth about your families-how he had to share a home with you,  your family serving his. He had no respite from you. Yeah, Y/N deserved everything she got, he thought as he got into his car. Plus it's not like you wouldn’t rat him out when you got home about what happened. This time as he drove past you and saw you hunched in on yourself, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt as he saw you clutching your injured hand, staring resolute at the dumpster, knowing full well that you would go in after the glasses. After all, he knew how hard your mother worked to buy them for you, he knew how you worked 2 jobs and also kept track of your younger brothers. Deep down, he really hoped that maybe this time you would finally explode and tell everyone about all the horrid acts he committed against you. 

Except that you never did tell on him. 

In fact, you avoid Yoongi like the plague.  After finally scrambling into the dumpster and reclaiming your glasses, you clambored back out, hand still screaming in pain. As you stand there wiping the garbage from the lenses and picking off random refuse from your clothes you honestly don’t think you can sink any lower than this. You swipe grimey hands at your cheeks as hot tears run down them, thankful that you are alone. And as you walk away you begin to make plans. You couldn’t keep doing this. And with renewed energy you begin walking home, not didn’t looking back choosing instead to forge ahead, putting one foot in front of another until finally you were in your mid=twenties, and had your own little place. You were happy with your life. But you should have known. All good things must come to an end eventually. You hadn’t thought about him in years, attending school, graduating, opening up a bakery with your best friend. Essentially you were hiding, but not really. 

And then by some ill stroke of luck, he found you.

You awaken to the blaring of your alarm with a groan. Was it really 8 am? The flashing numbers of your clock inform you that it was in fact 8:59. Shit you were late. Cursing your snooze butten, you scrambled out of your bed and grabbed the cleanest clothes you could find off the floor and stumble as you attempt a whole new balancing act: pulling up your pants while holding a hot cup of coffee and a piece of toast dangling precariously from your teeth. As you run down the street towards the bus, slinging your backpack over your shoulder while you scramble to tuck your shirt in you promptly run into a solid wall and fall on your ass. Your hair is covering your face as you look up at  what you had plowed into, an apology already leaving your mouth when you got to the face. “Um…hi, uh…sorry about that.”

“Y/N. From YHSN?”

“Yes?” you become wary, no one around here really knows you as you chose to keep to yourself…“Do I know you?”

The grin that spread across the man’s face could be described as nothing less than cruel and vicious. “Yeah, Y/N L/N right? I am here to inform you that you have 24 hours to vacate the premises. Good luck.” He stated before unceremoniously dropping an envelope onto your lap and turning on her heel to leave you in a stunned heap on the floor.

What the hell had just happened? Maybe you were still dreaming?

You were dazed for a moment as your brain tried to compute the absolute absurdity of what had just happened and then you were on your feet chasing the man, yelling at him to stop but he just kept on walking.

Finally catching up to the man, you grab her arm, “What the fuck man?” you yell, “this is illegal as hell! Thirty days is the minimum!” You shove the notice back at the man, hitting him in her (very solid) chest hard.

“Y/n, Y/n, I see you're still full of venom huh? It’s completely legal actually-you see I” he leaned forward, “own the building now. And to my delight, what do I learn? I find out that Y/N L/N happens to be a tenant! Guess how happy I was to finally find you again after all these years and then get to have you vacate your home.” he laughs as you gape at him like a fish.

“Min fucking Yoongi, I do not have time for your petty ass childish bullshit! ” you hers, voice laced with venom.

“Aw kitten you remembered! I am truly honored! But alas I cant stay and chit-chat, and well, neither can you. Tata chica!” With that he jerks her arm from your grasp, sending you back to the ground in shock for the second time that morning, before climbing into an expensive black car and driving away.

You scream curses to the sky, because after 8 peaceful years, the man you had spent so long  running from and then finally forgetting, had found you. But of course, the sky only decides to rain. And as you trudge back home to call into work, (because seriously fuck this day) you can’t help but wonder how everything came to this moment. After a shower and change of clothes, you fall into your bed, allowing yourself one moment of respite before you begin to tackle this new problem, closing your eyes.

You were back there again, trapped both in a small body and the cave that haunts you as you watch helplessly at the rising water. Your tiny voice is raised, tinted with fear, “I told you we shouldn’t come here! My mama said-“

The boy next to you cut you off, “Crying ain’t gonna fix it, I will save us”

“You can't even swim,” You yell, unable to remain calm. 

“I AM GONNA SAVE US!” the small boy shouted, “so don’t cry Y/N.” He gave you a small smile, one that made you feel slightly safer and he took hold of your hand. “Follow me and don’t let go no matter what.”

“Okay,” you say, for some reason feeling braver after placing your faith along with your hand into the boy’s hand. He said he would, so of course he would save both of you. After all, he was your best friend and you don’t pick losers.

It was a lot harder though, when all was said and done. Yes, the two of you made it out of the cave alive, but not without nearly drowning, and you had slipped and injured your ankle along the way. Luckily, you did make it out, and while the two of you spent a cold wet night huddled together on the beach, you were alive. In the morning, you were rescued further as the search teams found. And while your mother had you wrapped up in her warmth and was crying and thanking the people over and over that had saved you, the same welcoming was not happening to the young boy. You could hear screaming as a woman in a fine dress and her husband yelled at the boy, your tiny hero, before there was a loud smack. You watch as the boy falls, hand clenched to her face, tears streaming down her face as her mother continues to land hard blows upon her body until she is dragged away. You cried out for you friend and as the two of you met eyes, for the first time you saw hatred reflected back at you. That was the day Min Yoongi stopped being your friend and became your tormentor.

He followed you everywhere, taunting you, breaking your things, and ultimately breaking you. Your mother finally quit working for her house the day he’d thrown your glasses into the garbage and you had come home, broken glasses in hand, face streaked with tears and reeking of garbage -you had finally confessed what had happened, what all had been happening. You had moved away, your mom working several jobs and then as well as yourself working, then you working to  pay your way through chef school and finally moving out into your own place. And all of it had just been destroyed because he found you.

You sigh looking up at your ceiling letting your anger consume you as you curse Min Yoongi to a lifetime of diarrhea. And an itchy butt. And you hoped her eyebrows fell out, just for good measure.

You look around your apartment one last time before closing the door with finality. this asshole, you think to yourself. “Just wait” you say as you look down at the address your brother had just texted you.

An hour later you stand before a gated house and ring the doorbell. And ring it. And ring it. And continue ringing it (after all it was nearly 6 am, and as you had learned that morning, if you want to ruin someone's day, do it first thing in the morning) until a sleepy figure stumbles outside and smacks your hand away. You take this opportunity to dart inside the gate and into the house carrying your things with you.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” Yoongi yells at you from outside, beginning to stomp back to her front door. You could only grin as you take in the pajama bottoms and robe, while you stand there like a goddamn Amazonian queen, “You took my home. this is payback.” and then you dialed the police, “Yes? Officer? There’s a half naked man on my lawn, please send help! I’m so scared”

You couldn’t help the grin that covers your face as you smile at Yoongi, “Good luck asshole.” You say sweetly, before slamming the door in her face. Nothing had ever sounded so sweet as the sound of the lock turning over, followed a second later by desperate pounding at the door. And Yoongi could only pound on the door until the cops showed up and he explained that this was, in fact, her home, as well as that the intruder was actually you. The officers had asked him if he wanted you arrested and for once he let it go, telling them that you were having a lovers quarrel and apologizing that they had to come out over something so silly. As the cops pulled away, he went to the back of the house and slammed the sliding glass door open only to find the house seemingly empty. As he walked from room to room he couldn’t help but get angrier and angrier. But when he found you passed out on her bed, he paused, somehow her anger dissipating instantly. He stood there, looking at your sleeping body and wondered if you would ever know her real feelings for you. If he would ever be able to tell you. And the real question: could you forgive him? He knew it was asking a lot, but he could only hope. He sat and thought about how to express to you the things he needed to say. He wondered how exactly did one explain how guilty he felt about how he treated you, how he didn’t really understand why he went out of her way to make your life miserable back then…and then you had left him. How, when you left he realized just how broken he was inside. When he bought the building he couldn’t believe her luck when he saw your name as one of the tenants, but her old ways came back hard and for some ungodly childish reason he couldn’t control himself. That he should have been apologizing that morning and telling you how thankful he was that it had also brought you back to him. He guessed that it was far too late for him to ever have your forgiveness and he couldn’t help the smile that played on her mouth as he approached the bed. He reached out a hand to smooth back some hair that covered your face when you wherpered, “Yoongi...” he stilled, “…I’m sorry” you mumbled. What could you possibly be sorry for? He couldn’t help it, but it made him angry that you would apologize to him after everything he’d done and especially while in such a vulnerable state that the next thing he knew he was grabbing the blanket and ripping it away from your curled form. It’s momentum  sends you over the edge of the bed to land in a heap on the floor. You sit up cursing her very existence,

 “What the hell Y/N?!” He yells right back, while you could only manage to stare up at him from where you sat on the floor. But this time you weren’t having any of her bullshit. You jump up and get in her face “ What the hell? What do YOU mean what the hell? Who the hell buys a building solely to evict one person?! Are you that rich? Do you hate me that much?”

Yoongi yelled back, “Hell yeah I do!“ 

"You have issues, Min Yoongi! I did nothing to you except be born! Do you know how hard I worked to forget what you did to me? And you come just back,” you pause, swallowing thickly, you would not cry. Not here. Not now, “But not anymore! I won't let you break me again Yoongi. I am worth so much more than that!”

Exhausted, you  move to push around him but he grabs your wrists instead and pins you against the wall.

“Let me go you asshole!” you yell at him fighting back for once in your life, all while trying to hide your face and the tears that were no longer just threatening to spill over. “Can't you just hate me from a distance? I’m sorry your mom was a horrid cunt to you! I’m sorry, okay! But please, just let me go! Leave me alone” And then her hands were gone, and you were free. You couldn’t help it, you looked up and stared him in the eyes, for once determined to make him see how he wrecked you.

Yoongi could only stare at you, watching as the tears fell, tears once again caused by him, and then he heard the five words that ripped open her wounds, words he knew he deserved, said in a voice so broken he didn’t know where he should start to even attempt to repair it.

“I hate you Min Yoongi.“

He couldn’t stand it, he knew he deserved them but he just couldn’t stand there and just accept them. Accepting those words would be like giving up, and giving up probably the only pure thing he still had in her life. Had. And so he moved, not thinking about consequences, only a desire to cleanse those words from the air around him. He grabs you again, pushing you against the wall, capturing your face in one hand, forcing you to meet her eyes, while he brushes your hair away with the other, "Good. Never forget it.”

And then he crashes her mouth against yours.

You didn’t know how what was happening was happening and some stupid part of you was excited to have him pressed against you,  mouth was moving against yours and then you were responding and for some reason it felt so good–like coming home. It was like your body suddenly was against everything you wanted-you found yourself wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling him closer, deepening the kiss, a giggle bubbling up when you nipped at her lip and he groaned. and then you both were tearing at each other's clothes in desperation. And then the world stops making sense. You and Min Yoongi, enemy of the state #1 were having sex. And it was good. It felt so right, like you two had been made to fit each other only. When it was over he lay behind you, placing gentle kisses along your neck and down your collar bone. The last thing you remember before falling asleep in your enemy’s arms was Yoongi gently wherpering a muffled “I’m sorry” into your ear over and over.

When you wake, you are surprised to find an arm wrapped around your waist and you freeze as the memories of the night before come rushing back and you begin to mentally beat yourself up as you carefully slide out of the bed and grab your clothes, making a mad dash out of the house, dressing yourself along the way.

No way had you slept with Yoongi and enjoyed it. You were an idiot of the highest order. You slept with the man who wanted you homeless because he hated you.

You let out a deep sigh as you did a very new special walk of shame to your job, where your boss, Mandi greeted you by yelling, “Oi ! What cat pissed in your cheerios?”

Causing the other workers to laugh until you pinned them with your patented Crazy-eye ™, at which point they scurried away except for that moron Seokjin who slung his arm around your shoulders jovially, “So why is my favorite girl doing the walk of shame?”

You glare and shrug his arm off, “None of your business.” 

“Dude its obs-you’re like a whole 4 hours late-and you are never late. So what happened? Anyone I know?”

“You’ll just call me an idiot if I tell you.”

“I swear on cake I won't.”

You raise an eyebrow before saying a name you never thought you’d say just to see him eat his words. “Min Yoongi.”

“Shut the front door! You’re an idiot”

“The cake is ashamed of you and asks that you keep your distance.” You say as you move to the back rooms to put away your belongings.

Not giving up, Seokjin follows you, even going so far as to hand you your apron, “Seriously? Didn’t he like-”

“Terrorize me to the point of moving? Then find me years later and evict me? Yep.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“You okay?” Seokjin asked worriedly, For the shit talking between the two of you, you smile to know he does really care.

“I have to be.”

“Did you at least use a condom?” He asks.

“Oh my god.”

“You really are an idiot. But don’t worry…you know I’ve got your back right? Well, we’ve got your back.”

You could only stare at Seokjin as your mind whirls through the consequences of last night, “It should be fine right?” you ask.

“Sure, cupcake. Keep telling yourself that”

There is a ding from the door and you see your brother Jungkook shuffles in with your other brother Namjoon, and giving Seokjin a look that clearly says “Keep your mouth shut if you want to live” you take a deep breath and head behind the counter to wash your hands, greeting them as you go.

“COFFEE. COFFEE NOW.” Namjoon grunts demandingly, taking a seat and burying her head in her hands,  while Jungkook adds a half-hearted “Please…and a raspberry jelly for me.”

“Rough night?” You ask as you pour the two men coffee and grab Jungkook her donut and slide it in front of them.

Jungkook grins, “Nah, Joon thought he could out drink me. He thought wrong.”

“Shhhhhhhhh!! You’re so loud,” hersed Namjoon, shoving a hand at Jungkook’s face and missing entirely.

You grin and speak extra loud, “Shouldn’t you know by now to let the kids drink and you go home and sleep?”

Namjoon just glares at you, “I have a gun.”

“I aint scared of you.”

The shop bursts into laughter as Namjoon buries her head in her arms on the counter, “Why do you hate me so much?” He whines.

“Mom likes you more, and I’m a petty bitch.”

Jungkook grins, “But she likes me most!”

Both you and Namjoon glare at him, “Shut up!”

Yoongi wakes up to an empty bed and he frowns, crawling out of bed and pulling on her boxers. He wanders around the house looking for you, hoping that you haven't run away and when he can’t find you, her heart sinks. Was he that awful that you would still run away from him even after what you had shared? And worse, what if he had gone too far this time?

He makes her way back to her room and grabs her phone, calling her secretary.

“Yo.” Answered Hoseok.

“Really that’s how you answer the phone? You do know that I am your boss right?”

“Debatable today.”

Yoongi rolls her eyes, “Anyways, I need you to find someone…”

“Well you know Imma need a little more…”

“Y/N. You remember her right?”

“You mean the girl you tortured in school because you didn’t have the balls to tell her how you lurrrrrrrved her.”

“I see you wish to die today.”

“No, not today. So you wish for me to find your wayward love?”

“Yeah.”

“Mandi’s shop.” Hoseok cheerfully replied, as if this should be common knowledge. 

“Oh yeah, great idea bring me some coffee please?”

“No, you idiot, Y/N works there. She is actually her partner” Hosoek irritatingly says matter of factly.

“The hell?! Why do you know this but I don’t?”

“Dude, seriously? You do know they were friends growing up and just because you made her run away by being a complete ass doesn’t mean they stopped being friends.”

“My best friend and my sister have been lying to me.” 

“It’s not lying when you never asked. But Yoongi…you should let her go. It’s been a long time and I know you had feelings but with how you treated her–“

"She was here.” Yoongi grunted, running a hand over her face as he stood in her closet trying to think of what to wear. What says “I come in peace”? Maybe he could get Hoseok to dress up as Spock and talk to Y/N before he does. 

“What? And you’re alive?”

“Yeah. We…um…she was gone this morning,” Yoongi sits down on her bed, running a hand through her hair.

"Oh…” and as realization hits, Hoseok intones sagely,” ...oh my god you’re fucking moron.”

“You know I can fire you.”

“Please bitch, I know all your deepest darkest secrets you ain’t gonna fire me.”

“Just…shit…what should I do?” Yoongi asks, finally letting go of her big bad boss act.

“Dude, I don’t know. You slept with her…maybe you should just…”

“I um…fucked up more than that…” He thinks about how you had felt, how he had felt...how absolutely perfect it had been for just one night, A flicker of fear strums through her heart at the thought that this was not salvageable at all. 

“No. no way. Our friendship is over.” Hoseok cracks from the other side of the phone.

“Just help me okay?” 

There was a long pause before he heard a heavy sigh, “Fine, but no games. She has a good thing going on and you-”

“I swear it's different this time!” Yoongi pleads. 

“Whatever. I should warn you though.”

“Warn me about what?”

“Her brothers.”

“Namjoon and Jungkook? We were old friends, what about them?”

“You were old friends until they found out how you treated her. And bonus points-they are both cops now. Partners even, so you should probably pray for your soul.”

With a groan, Yoongi finally gets up and begins to get dressed putting Hoseok on speakerphone. “I’m so dead.”  

“Yep,” affirms Hoseok, “So does that mean I can have your stuff?” 

Rolling her eyes and thinking he really needs a new assistant, Yoongi growls out“See you at the office.” only to hear Hoseok laughing before he hangs up the phone. 

Yoongi finishes getting dressed, and running a hand over her face as he contemplates this new information. You’d been right under her nose the entire time and everyone had kept it a secret. He guessed he deserved it though, he was a complete and utter ass to you. He also guesses it’s time to make it up to you and hopefully, you would forgive him and let him into your heart, where he belonged. After all, you’d always been in his.

2 months later

Yoongi stands outside her (former) sister’s shop watching as you serve your customers, and realizes sadly that it was the first time in a long time that  he’d really ever seen you smile. He wanted that smile for himself and himself alone, but he wasn’t sure how to get it. When he had remodeled your former apartment, expanding it through the two vacant units on either side of you, you just got mad at him for evicting you, when he was just redoing the apartment and you claimed it was far too large for you by yourself now. But that was the point wasn't it? He was hoping that somehow you would just...come back to him on your own and he wouldn’t really have to put any work in. Yoongi realizes then that he is an absolute dumbass.

After all, nothing he’d done so far had managed to make you smile at him or hell just give him the time of day and he was beyond frustrated. Couldn’t you see how hard he was trying for you?

Mandi pokes her head out of the shop interrupting his train of thought,

“What the hell are you doing here?” she snaps at him.

“Wow, do you greet all your customers like this?”

“Yoongi. Listen. Whatever it this is about now isn’t–”

Realization hits for the second time that morning, “Were you ever going to tell me?”

Mandi pauses, looking him up and down, “There’s nothing to tell if you already know.”

He could almost feel the metaphorical walls slamming down around him as Mandi went on guard. “Mandi!”

“No. Not about ther.”

“I’ve known for almost a month.”

“Then you should go know somewhere else.”  Mandi stepped outside, becoming a most effective blockade. If someone was to ever wage war against his sister, his money, hell, his entire fortune would be on Mandi.

“Listen, you’re my brother and I love you and I know you know what you did wrong, and really it's sweet you want to make amends but …Yoongi, sometimes things…”

“I slept with her.”

“Do you want a trophy?” Mandi snapped, her fists clenched, before she  shook her head, “you have five seconds or I’m opening ther door and I’m calling her brothers out here.”

“We didn’t use protection.”

“Well then I guess today you die you little fucking weasel.”

“I love her.”

That’s when he remembered his sister’s left hook and then the lights went out.

Mandi stomps into the store grabbing you by the arm and dragging you upstairs ignoring your protests, shoving you into the bedroom and giving you a look reserved for her son’s Taehyung and Jimin when they are acting up. “Stay.”

Mandi goes back downstairs and motions Namjoon and Kookie over, “Listen, I know you hate Min Yoongi with like the passion of 7 fiery suns but I need you to hold that rage in and help me get his ass inside.”

Namjoon was already up and out the door at the sound of Min Yoongi’s name, and seconds later was dragging a barely conscious Yoongi in by the collar. While Kookie held open the door, Namjoon made sure Yoongi purposely whacked his head on the door frame and when Mandi winced he gave her a look that clearly said “sorry not sorry” before dropping Yoongi on the shop floor like the sorry sack of shit he thought he was.

“I’m sorry folks,” Mandi announces, “due to my crazy family, the shop will be closing early.”

The patrons all scrambled out of the shop while Jungkook handcuffed Yoongi to a chair and dumped a cup of ice water on him.

Yoongi jerked back, fully awake now and met by 3 pairs of eyes. 3 very angry pairs of eyes. He shook his head and tried to move but found himself handcuffed to the chair and he gives Mandi a look that says “Really?”

“Kook uncuff him. Seriously. And you and Joon leave.”

“No.”

“Did I stutter?”

“Okay, but we get dibs if you decide to kill him.” Jungkook, grumbles as he undoes the handcuffs.

“I’m not going to kill him. Today.”

“Fine.”

Jungkook finishes unlocking the cuffs and Yoongi immediately rubs at his wrists and watches warily as Jungkook and Namjoon leaves the shop, rolling his eyes when Jungkook gives him the international sign for “I’m watching you” while Joon drew his thumb across his neck. They were dramatic as fuck, but then again he might just be dramatically fucked.

Mandi pulls up a chair and sits across from Yoongi and stares at him for several long moments until Yoongi breaks the silence, “Just say it.”

“Why?”

“It just happened like that.”

“Bullshit.”

Yoongi sighed, “I’ve grown up since then. I no longer want to pull her hair.”

“Clearly. And you didn’t just pull her hair, you did a lot worse.”

“Shouldn’t you be on my side?”

“I am fucking Switzerland.”

Yoongi couldn’t help the anger that swelled up and choked him, “Clearly not. You knew where she was all these years and you never said anything. This is why you never let me come to the shop then? You knew I was looking for her, that I wanted-”

“Of course,” interrupted Mandi. 

“Why?”

“Because you are an idiot who doesn’t know how to communicate. Look at what happened--when you did find her, your first action was to take her home. Who fucking does that shit?”

“You’re right, I was. I was cruel and spiteful. Keyword: was.”

“Bullshit. Taking away her home wasn’t because you were being spiteful. You wanted what she had. That’s called envy. She left because she wanted to live, and the only way she could was to leave. You made it like this. I almost lost my friend. So of course I kept it a secret.” Mandi sighed, rubbing her hand over her face. “Look I know. I know what y

our mom and dad did. How they treated us. We were mere points on a checklist of creating a picture perfect family. But you had no right-”

“I was stupid. You think I don’t know? That I don’t regret it? I love her. I always have.”

“Actions-”

“Speak louder than words I know. I’m trying to fix that now!”

Mandi closes her eyes, debating her next few words  "Can I trust you? That’s the-“ ”

“Yes. I swear I'll spend my life…”

“Doing what?” You interrupt, “Sorry, since you seem to be discussing me I couldn’t stay put,” you say to Mandi. “Yoongi I don’t want your money and if you are worried because we didn’t…,” you swallow before continuing with a brave face, “....I’ll be fine. but you really have to stop sending me presents. I don’t want them. Can’t you just stay…”

“Y/N I’m sorry. I was an ass.”

“Still an ass.” Mandi interrupts, “Look, you two clearly need to talk this out so I’m out. Come on Seokjin, let’s go see a movie.”

With that Seokjin and Mandi beat a hasty retreat leaving the two of you alone.

“Your jaw is swelling.” You say after noticing the blossoming bruise that marred his handsome face. Handsome? What the hell were you even thinking?

“Mandi hit me.”

“Why?”

“I told her what happened. She’s very protective of you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Y/N…that night…I shouldn’t have that.”

“I let you. It wasn’t just you alone.”

“Please, just listen. I’m sorry. For everything. And I’m sorry for not saying that when we met again. It's just…”

“It's just..what?” You questioned, meeting his eyes. 

“I don’t know. When I look at you I want you. You are so good and pure and you deserve the world. I wanted you to myself but I was scared…”

“Scared of?”

“You.”

“Me?” You scoff at the idea of anyone being afraid of you.

“Yeah,” Yoongi stood and walked over to you. “You had everything even though you had nothing. Brothers who worshiped you, a mother who did everything for you…what if I ruined that? What if my mother-”

“How would you ruin that?” You ask, finding patience from who knows where.

“I was messed up…and the older I got the worse…things got worse. You saw, you can’t pretend you didn’t. I took out my suffering on you because nothing good could possibly exist and you were just hiding your real nature. But you never retaliated. You kept reaching out to me over and over again. ”

“But I did retaliate.”

“By locking me out of my house after I took yours? Not really. I mean…I deserve far worse,” chucked Yoongi. He wanted so badly to touch you, to pull you into his arms and just...feel you. 

You stare at Yoongi. This broken version of Yoongi with tears in his eyes. Could you trust him? You wanted to give him a chance.

“Let’s….go on a date.”

Yoongi’s eyes widened, “What?”

“You like me right?”

“Well–I mean–I did when I was—I do”

“Take me on a date, final offer going in one–two..”

“Fine! I’ll take you on a damn date,” Yoongi smiles.

“No fancy shit tho. $100 limit.”

“I’ll take you on the best damn date of your life!”

“Good.”

Yoongi didn’t know why he was being snippy now, but as he left the shop he couldn’t help but do a little cheer when he got into his car. Hoseok rolled his eyes and politely ignored him.

Yoongi stood at the door of your apartment, and for the first time in his life he hesitated, hand poised to ring the doorbell, and then you swung open the door and suddenly the world stopped. You looked amazing. Your hair was curled, makeup accenting your eyes perfectly, wearing black skinny slacks, a hound’s-tooth patterned sweater over a white button down and pink heels. He took in the perfection that was you and thought, “She was made for me.”

And the fear was gone as he smiled at you and he took your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah let me grab my purse,” you say as you try to let go of his hand to grab the bag on the chair beside your front door but he wouldn’t let go. You couldn’t help the blush that blossomed over your cheeks as he stepped inside and grabbed the bag for you and waited for you to lock up so you both could leave.

He pulled you along, never letting go, until he reached his car and opened the door. It was only enough time for him to run around and get the car moving before he was locking fingers with you again.

“What’s up with you?” You smirk.

“Just…making up for lost time.”

“What?”

“I just…I should have been doing this for years now.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “So…are you always this cheesy?”

Yoongi’s eyes went wide, “I mean…I’m not…no…,” Yoongi stuttered and then stopped, “I guess I am cheesy it's just…I can tell you I’m sorry but…”

“Actions speak louder than words?”

“I see you have met my sister,” he joked softly, “And we’re here.”

“A movie? Really?”

“I always had wished to take you…”

Yoongi’s eyes stared into yours, “Yoongi…” you say timidly.

“Yeah?”

“I’m not her anymore you know? I grew up…you grew up…let’s leave it behind us and start fresh yeah?”

“What do you mean?”

You stick your hand out, “Hi, my name is Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

Yoongi stared at you you’d suddenly sprouted a third eye on your nose before awkwardly taking your hand and shaking it, “Min Yoongi…the pleasure is all mine.”

You can’t help but laugh at his stunned expression, not knowing he was just in shock from receiving your smile. To him, your smile in that moment could have powered a thousand suns. 

Yoongi was quiet but still took your hand and you entered the theater with a smile on your face, happy that things were getting better, that you could almost believe you had your first love back.

2 hours later.

“Yoongi,  why are you pouting?” You ask as you take his hand.

“Look no matter how I look at it, it's just not fair.”

“What’s not?”

“Mandi. Seokjin. They have spent years with you…years that should have been with me.”

“I thought we were moving forward.”

“But.”

You sighed. “Look. You want to know the truth?”

Yoongi stopped and stared at you, “yes.”

“Okay then.” You face him, “You crushed me in every way possible. You were my world. I followed you everywhere. I trusted you, and you were always there and then you weren’t. The night we got stuck in the cave I gave you my faith—but it also is and was the moment I gave my whole heart to you, willingly, without any doubt. And the next day when we were found…you stomped on it. And you continued to stomp on it. I cried so many tears everyday because I hoped that one day my hero would come back. But he never did. He became a villain.” You couldn’t help the tears that fell down your cheeks, “And even through all that I still…” you sighed. “I can't do this Yoongi. I can't. I’m sorry,  I was wrong to try.” You turned on your heel and ran away, ignoring him yelling after you, you just ran until you couldn’t hear him anymore. 

And then you found the alcohol.

You sat at the outside bar drinking as you thought about the past two months. All the things you had done with Yoongi , and how disgusted you were with yourself for letting your old feelings come back so easily. You knew it wasn’t the right choice, but it was the one you wanted. You had decided to drown yourself in alcohol,  and you were on your third bottle when the object of your conflicting emotions, sat down across from you.

“Y/N.”

“Mmm?”

“What are you doing?”

“Drinking!” Your giggle turns to a frown when you hear the heavy sigh come across from you, “Are you judging me? It’s not nice to judge you know! “

“Why are you drinking Y/N?”

“Because,” you leaned forward, whispering conspiratively, “I’ve been bad.”

“Bad? How so?”

You sigh dreamily, a wistful smile playing upon your lips, “There’s this guy…”

“There always is.”

“Shhh! This is my story!” You shout.

“Sorry.”

“Where was I?” 

“Something about a guy…”

“SHHHHHH! So rude interrupting me! Anyways…I’m supposed to hate him but…” you thump your chest hard as tears prick your eyes, “But…”

“But what?”

“I can't…I remember him before…and the him that I remember…he’s still there…and all the warning alarms are going off and I’m so scared to love him but I…I think…”

“You think?”

You lay your head on the table, mumbling, “Think it’s too late…think I love him. Think it has always been too late for me. Even after all the bullshit…you see…he’s still here” You thump your chest hard and sigh as you feel the tears slide down your cheek to land on the table, “ I love him and I don’t want to…I didn’t mean too…”

“Mean to what?” 

“To love him, but…”

“You do.”

“Yeah” you whisper softly.

“Yoongi…” you can feel the man smile, you don’t know how you know but you do, “why do I have to love you?”

“You love me?” He asks, the hope wrapped in fear in his voice twisting your heart even more than all the past crap that had happened. You wanted to let it go. You wanted to love him. You can only nod your head as your eyes slide close, and you struggle against the darkness when you hear him whisper, “I love you too Y/N…I’m just scared…I’m not good enough…I was such an ass…and I know you said to let it go…but God Y/N…I should have treated you like a princess…because the truth is…”

Those words cause you to sit up, eyes squinting hard as you try to make out his face, “Yoongi?”

“Yeah?”

You lean forward and his face comes into focus, a smile spreads on your face and you lean forward to press your lips to his, softly at first, and then he responds, a hand sliding up your arm to cup your neck as you express to him what you can’t say in words. This was so much better than petty arguments and revenge pranks.  

You pull away, breathing heavy as you rest your forehead against his, “Yoongi,” you whimper, keeping your eyes firmly on the buttons of his shirt, scared to look up, scared to see the fear in his eyes. Does he not know?  “Can I…can I be yours?“ You ask in a voice so quiet it is almost lost in the noise of the world that surrounds you. 

"Can you forgive me?” The pain in his voice was sharp. “I forgive you.” You whisper into his mouth as you make promises with your lips.

He pulls away for a moment, and you lock eyes finally. “Then believe me when I say, I was always yours, and you were always mine.” 

“I was?”

The amount of disbelief in your voice causes Yoongi to tear up as he pulls you into his arms, “Kitten?”

“Yeah,” you say as you rest your head into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent.

This time it was his turn to ask, “Am I yours?”

“You always were Yoongi. I was just waiting for you to remember where home was.”

Yoongi places the softest of kisses on each of your eyelids, and then he kisses away your tears and finally his mouth was on yours, and the kiss was full of yearning. “Y/N.”

“Yes?” You ask, sad he had pulled away. 

“Don’t leave me again…I love you too.”

“Okay.”

[sooibian]

Star-Crossed

Pairing: Baekhyun x Fem!Reader, OC Lys, Minseok, Yixing

Description: In his struggle with his inner demons and the outside world, will Baekhyun succeed in saving the one he loves?

Themes: Romani AU, magical realism, fluff, angst, mildly explicit, implied smut, secret relationship, knife related superstitions

Warnings: Blood, knives, violence

Word Count: 8.2k

Tagging: @changshapatrol​ @rosetvler​ @bbyunz​ @is-that-baekhyuns-shirt​ @royal-aeris @bbhmystar​ @tydontstop​ shy tagging @his-mochi-cheeks​ !

Part of the Steampunk Romani AU collab with @leewalberg​ @vampwrrr​ @xui-n-soowillbethedeathofme​​

Pre-reading notes:

Baekhyun can influence physical objects with his mind, unnamed MC is a plant whisperer, Yixing is a dragon, and Lys is a mind reader.

Glossary: bulibasha - clan leader; chao - tea; dragă - darling; dya - mother; gadjo - someone of non romani descent/origin; iubit - lover; kafa - coffee; lăutari - musicians

**********************************

The camp was bathed in an enchanting silver of the sparkling night sky. Evenings like these were ideal for bonfires and conviviality. Merry peals of laughter reached your ears in sporadic waves - delightful by nature but not entirely alluring. You’d always preferred the abyss of your own thoughts. Encumbered by gaiety, not many missed you on such occasions for you were ordinarily out of sight - living on the far edge of the camp, a stone’s throw from the surrounding forest that served your clandestine gift for curative botanicals. The one that you had inherited from your mother.

You would have loved nothing more than to spend your days curating elixirs for inflictions superficial and of the mind. Hogweed for flu, Borango for the heart, lavender blossoms for the mind...the flora would sing sweet praises of her roots, stems, leaves, flowers, and fruits. Songs that could be heard by you and your mother before you. The others, they had to study. They had to spend nights on end learning and perfecting this scientific art.

Destiny demanded you take over your ailing grandfather’s weapons trade and spend a good part of your life acquiring and selling lethal daggers, swords, machetes, and often the antiquated colt. But you held no bitterness against the inexorable fate and accepted life as it came with its blunt and sharp blows.

As you sat tidying your workbench, your paring knife slid off and fell to the floor with a clang as if to signal you of an impending rendezvous. The wintry chill took you by the tips of your fingers ever so gently and guided you out of the comfort of your home only to envelope you in her warmest embrace. 

The sound of his footsteps set your heart racing and you cursed at your rather self-destructive whims and fancies. Not wanting to seem like you were dawdling, you almost hurried back into the caravan but decided against it in the last minute. Even after everything, he had your soul dangling by a string, jerking it to the tunes of a bittersweet symphony. Appearing unflustered, you forced your eyes to marvel at the blue-white Rigel and red Betelgeuse instead but they battled for a mere glimpse at him.

The moon cast a beautiful, pearly sheen on the visitor but failed at masking his savagery. His black ankle banded pants, the frayed red brocade coat that was layered over a lace up shirt, the weighty golden azazel ring on his left thumb which was a sign of his elevated status in the clan, the leather belt around his lean waist, even the bandoleer strapped over his right thigh that steadfastly held his jamdhar all bore garish smudges of dried blood. 

The guilt of seeing this dagger on his person never ceased to bog you down. Had you not found it, it would never have found Baekhyun.

He stopped at a foot's distance from you, one hand pressing a piece of cloth to an old gash across his eyebrow which seemed to have come undone. He watched you with an unmistakable conviction in his boldly lined eyes while yours landed on the sprig of basil resting against his throat. It made your heart clench with a fatal concoction of hurt and guilt. 

He shouldn’t be here.

You pointedly scrutinized the smoky emanations that rose in black wisps from the weapon. Despite your continued dissent, Baekhyun insisted on using the jamdhar. He cleared his throat meekly, drew the weapon out of the bandoleer and hid it in the inside pocket of his coat and advanced towards you. 

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you said "Stay", and raised your index finger at him as if in command. The last time Baekhyun wound up in your caravan it didn't end well for you. In fact, every time he came to see you, he brought along with him agonizing memories of that day - the one day on which you both wished that the sun hadn’t risen. 

As soon as you turned around, he grabbed you by your wrist to hold you firmly in place. The front window of the vehicle burst open and with a whooshing sound your medicine crate and teapoy flew out of it only to carefully descend at your feet.

"When will you ever stop flaunting your feathers like a peacock." You muttered under your breath, pursing your lips to suppress a smile. "I'll need a flask, a lidded dish...and a mat."

In one quick movement, he pulled you towards him, deliberately pressing his firm, laddish torso to your back. He leaned in closer, his tender lips and warm breath tickling your ear, as he whispered, "Take me inside, saves us the hassle", sending a frisson of wildness down your spine.

But you were quick to prise away from his captivating grasp and meet his misty eyes with an unwavering gaze. Crossing your arms over your chest, you stated with a hint of annoyance in your tone, "The Healer lives not too far from here. I'm just a weapons dealer, anyway." 

Strangely enough, only the potions and cures concocted by you soothed Baekhyun’s woes - they helped restore his strength that was devoured raw by the jamdhar. But that wasn’t the only reason why he was drawn to you. If Baekhyun knew love, it was because he saw it in your eyes. With his head rested in your lap, the one feared by all felt at home... he felt at peace. 

Averting his gaze from your stern countenance, he let out a deep sigh and conceded defeat.

***

You started him off with a decoction of Feverfew flowers diluted with water and honey to help soothe his muscular aches while concocting a balm out of beeswax, Laca leaves and powdered root of the Allheal plant for his bruises. He took a hesitant sip and thrust the flask back into your hand, wincing at the bitter taste of the brew, "More honey."

"Honey doesn’t come cheap." You jeered, immediately regretting your words as you glanced over his soul crushingly worn out demeanour. 

Baekhyun’s undertakings as the money lender’s henchman always ended up taking an ugly toll on him. This wasn’t something he was cut out for but weighed down by the burden of fealty, the obvious facts seemed to elude him. Hastily handing him the jar of honey, you inched closer to him to clean his wound.

He retreated playfully. Gaping at you, he complained in mock-offense, “Men and women shouldn’t be inappropriately intimate!”

Unheeding, you responded, “Especially if they’re spoken for.”

His jaw dropped in protest but he clamped it shut at once. Lowering his gaze, he quietly added a generous dollop of the sweet nectar to the flask and stirred the mixture with one of the decontaminated knives from your medicine crate.

“Stir with a knife and stir up strife”, you taunted him despite yourself.

Undeterred, he continued to stir with an increased vigour. “Since it doesn’t bode well for us to see each other unless I’m battered and bruised”, he retorted, chuckling darkly, the sparkle of the entire galaxy pooling in the depth of his eyes, “this solves it.” 

.

.

.

Growing up, you never concerned yourself with the frail and sickly lad who had the ability to influence physical objects with his mind; he didn’t mingle with kids his age and spent most of his time tailing the money lender’s son Minseok. Now that you think about it, it was the other way round. Minseok tailed Baekhyun, cleaning up the messes he made and looking after him despite the second-rate treatment the adopted boy received from the rest of his family. For someone that small-boned, Baekhyun was loud, boisterous, and slightly too obnoxious. It wasn’t long before you wrote the troublemaker off as someone you’d rather steer clear of. 

You, on the other hand, spent the better part of your childhood and adolescent years learning the Romano Zakono at the feet of your grandfather, apprenticing with the Healers of the clan, practising intricate embroidery and the cursive script, and secretly mimicking the songs and dances of the lăutari. 

You’ll never forget the day he sneaked up on you dancing to one of Damian Draghici’s songs. It was a little before sunset, you were alone by the pond, dressed in your newly sewn red crêpe skirt and a coordinated red blouse that showed off your elegant collarbone and just a tasteful bit of your midriff. Last year, you came of age and started discovering the sublime beauty of womanhood that was revealed by the luxe curves and graceful lines of your body. With a golden belt tinkling on your waist, beaded earrings dangling in your ears, a colourful cotton scarf around your head, eyes emboldened with the darkest kohl, lips tinted with a fearless maroon, you sneaked shy glances at yourself in the clear pond. 

The soft evening wind had rendered your already wild hair untamed and you were draped in the fragrance of the woody white oudh carrying sweet undertones of ylang ylang flowers and patchouli. You’d stolen a tiny bit of the expensive attar from your mother’s dresser drawer and dabbed it behind the top of your ear. You always wore perfume in that spot since it was oilier than the ear lobe, and oil tends to hold on to perfume better, helping it to diffuse for longer. That way, you’d carry the delectable essence of nature with you at least until the next sunset albeit at the price of a scolding from your stern but loving dya. 

To your knowledge, you were the only one by the pond. Everyone was busy celebrating the union of one of the elders’ granddaughter with the blacksmith’s son. Dressed up this splendidly, it would be an utter waste if you didn’t sneak out for just a bit to croon and sway to Damian Draghici’s latest Trandafire after being spellbound by the performance of the lăutari at the wedding. 

Halfway through your routine, you were alerted by a sudden ruffling of the leaves. As you turned your head in the direction of the sound, struggling to see in the fading daylight, a scrawny boy fell out of the magnolia tree and straight into the pond, tush first.

Mortified, you wanted to run to the Healer to ask for a little something that would obliviate your memory of this ordeal, or better yet mix that something in this rude intruder’s kafa the next morning. But the impact of him falling into the water created a huge splash, leaving you partially drenched. There’s no way you could go back to the feast looking like this. What on earth was this boy doing here while the entire clan was by the gazebo, celebrating! 

Upon a closer look you realized that he, of all people, was in dire need of some flesh to his bones.

Dripping wet he staggered out of the pond, a pout on his lips and eyes downcast. Ignoring you, he started to walk towards the camp but you yelled after him, “Creep!”

The boy who couldn’t have been more than a year younger to you, was half a head shorter. He turned around and sneered, low-toned, “Creep?”

“How dare you...how dare you..watch me..” Perplexed and livid, you contemplated on the choice of your words.

Hands on hips, he sauntered towards you with his head tilted to the side, brows pinched together and a corner of his mouth raised in a smirk. The mood of his tone sent chills down your spine when he asked, “How dare I what?” 

Fuelled with an unadulterated rage, you glared at him but he merely stood there, countenance casual, as if he’d just asked for directions to your grandfather’s weapons’ store. 

His outfit was ragged and clearly bigger for his frame but it highlighted his broad chest and shoulders. The cuffs of his pants were tattered, loose threads hanging by their seams and the right elbow of his black lace up shirt was patched with a squarish cloth of a different fabric. If you were dressed anything like him, you would have skipped the wedding, too. The patch on his elbow had come apart as a consequence of the fall, revealing a fresh wound.

Sighing in defeat, you grabbed him by his left wrist and dragged him to the edge of the pond. To your utter surprise, he followed without any protest. You sat down and he sat next to you, albeit a little too close for your comfort. You slowly dipped your feet in the cool water and he, reluctantly, after folding his pants up to his knees, did the same.   

Unfastening the drawstring on the little pouch fixed to your belt, you removed a clean gauze and a vial of white petroleum from it. Soaking the gauze in water, you took him by his right forearm but he flinched and retracted. “What are you doing?” He asked, eyes widened in surprise.

“Cleaning your wound.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why would you do that? I have nothing to give you in return and I don’t like owing people.”

“..owing people? How old are you?”

“What has my age got to do with anything?”

Shaking your head, you gave him a small smile, “No, nothing. You don’t owe me, alright? I’m doing this to...to... improve my skills. If anything, I owe you. Clear?”

Baekhyun’s suspicious eyes eased into a soft smile and he nodded in agreement. His smile was radiant and his striking eyes were accentuated with smooth, bold strokes of glittering kohl which had smudged along the edges, resembling a beautifully chaotic thunderstorm. The dimming evening light cast a faint shadow of his eye lashes on the apples of his translucent cheeks. Amidst his pleasing facial features, it was his nose that stood out for you. You couldn’t quite tell what it was but you wanted a small bite of it. 

He was undoubtedly the most handsome boy you had ever seen. 

“Why aren’t you at the wedding?” You asked, carefully folding the sleeve of his shirt up to his upper arm and cleaning the blood off of his elbow with the wet gauze. As you were applying a generous layer of white petroleum over it, you felt his stiff posture gradually relax. 

His gaze shifted from you and he stared into the distance and replied, “No reason.”

You simply nodded and decided against prodding him further. Taking the cotton scarf off of your head, you folded it into a makeshift bandage and swathed his elbow in it. 

“Why aren’t you at the wedding?” He asked, fixing you with a steady gaze.

“Because I’m dressed way too exquisitely for a mere wedding.” You laughed.

“I’d have to agree.” He said in a small voice. “Do you come here often?”

“Would you like me to?”

“As a Healer isn’t it your duty to follow up on your patients?”

“I’m no Healer, but I’d like to see you again on the next full moon. To check up on the…. very deep gash on your elbow.”

Baekhyun’s lips curled upwards and his eyes crinkled. He nodded sagely in response. 

“I have to go now”, you said, finding a part of your heart already missing the boy you never wanted anything to do with. 

“I’ll leave first”, Baekhyun responded. 

As you watched him go, magnolia flowers came floating in the air towards you in a straight line. They spun and wove around each other in a circle as if dancing to the beats of Trandafire. The brightest fireflies fluttered and joined in on the little gala of flowers, entwined like gemstones on a tiara, as the soiree adorned its rightful princess.

***

Thereafter came a seemingly endless string of secret rendezvous under the starry night skies. Baekhyun would braid your hair with flowers, sing you sweet love songs, bring you little gifts he’d find on his travels with Minseok and his father. They were mostly ingredients that you couldn’t find in the forest; you’d only describe their physical properties once and he’d commit them to memory, presenting you with only the best of the best of his finds.

Musings of the past were quick to pave the way for promises of a future. Even with its neck haltered and back against a wall, love was foolishly brave.

The more Baekhyun got involved with the money lender’s dealings, the lesser time he had for you which made every moment of yours with him even more precious. You held on to each other until the very last second as the agony of parting continued to amplify with the next meeting.

Years went by and one sweltering summer evening, you acquired a sealed weapon from a thirsty gadjo in exchange for an amphora full of fruit wine. The gadjo said it was a jamdhar, a rare push dagger, mainly intended for piercing armours. It was useless to him since the weapon had sealed itself and only an equal could unsheathe it. 

But to you, the jamdhar meant freedom. 

The dagger was rare, unreasonably powerful, mysterious and quite unlike any weapon in your grandfather’s munition. Merely fifteen inches long, it weighed about eleven pounds on the scale but it was quite heavy to be wielded by the average person. You could use the dagger to your advantage to evade inheriting the weapons’ trade and convince him to allow you to pursue your dream as an apothecary instead. 

You later discovered that your plea had fallen upon deaf ears but you reckoned it was worth a try, anyway. 

On Sara-la-Kali’s pilgrimage day, a feast was hosted by the babas of the clan. Among the many events held that evening, one event was held by your grandfather inviting men and women, young and old, to unsheathe the jamdhar.

Eyes outlined with an ebony galena and dark hair tousled, Baekhyun was dressed in black leather slacks and a loose midnight blue silk kurti which accentuated his broad and masculine frame. He wore an ivory tooth necklace and adorned the forward helix of his left ear with a gold ring. There was something different about him that day. He was unfaltering and undaunted. He was a force of nature.

He fixed the weapon with an unflinching gaze that sent shivers down your spine and proceeded towards it with one deliberate step at a time. He grabbed the sheathed jamdhar as if holding up a feather and drew the reticent dagger out of its cocoon with a sharp hiss. 

The weapon gleamed in the moonlight. Its hilt was forged from pure carbon steel and it cut through the birchbark bench like cutting through floating sand. Vicious and double edged, its narrow blade was as clear as mirror glass. Yet, when Baekhyun glanced into it, he saw doleful eyes of strangers - men, women, and seldom children. These were reflections of the spirits of the lives claimed by the weapon. 

The jamdhar was mighty and it made the man who possessed it invincible but it was bursting with resentment. Now that the weapon had found its true master, its energy only strengthened after each kill, rendering the master’s soul a shade weakened. Baekhyun would only continue to grow restless until he lost control of the weapon...and eventually of himself. You shuddered to think what might ultimately become of him if he didn’t discard the weapon soon enough.

It was after Sara-la-Kali’s pilgrimage day, the almighty Byun Baekhyun had become a stranger to you but your hearts were still tied together by the fragile thread of...love. 

You wondered if you could still call it that. 

.

.

.

It had been a year since. 

A year of sleepless nights and frazzled days. You found him growing distant in your unyielding pursuit of asking him to relinquish the weapon. But the weapon had given him everything he couldn't afford to lose - fame, might, wealth, and most of all the respect that he yearned for growing up. Nobody dared to cross Byun Baekhyun. Nobody spoke ill of him. His mere presence would hush the busiest streets and people would bow down to him out of fear or admiration... or both.

They say time heals but it was now your arch nemesis. So you did what you knew best. You concocted brews that would help restore his strength only for it to be swallowed up again the next time the vicious blade had tasted blood. 

You kept to yourself otherwise than when he needed you but the more you tried to fight shy of him, the more you found yourself in his company - observing the little things that pulled you deeper into your affections for him. The look in his eyes every time he saw fireflies dancing around your caravan, the erratic beating of his heart you felt against your palm when he kissed you for the last time...every time you noticed these things - your safekept heart threatened to leap out of it’s wrought iron cage only to land into his deceitful hands.

“You didn’t know ...they..they didn’t tell you?” Your trembling fingers grazed the fresh sprig of basil resting against Baekhyun’s sternum as you struggled to ground yourself by focusing on your breathing. 

His palm met the side of your face in a gentle caress. “I didn’t. Believe me, I didn’t.” His voice was but a tremulous whisper in his futile endeavour to hold back tears. 

“I was gone for one day.. I had some business up north.. and.. and everything.. everything’s changed! Just like that...everything’s changed!” You tried your best to lay hysteria off of your voice, but faltered. He wrapped his arms around you, his grip strengthening by the second, holding you closer, tighter as if his life depended on it. He then guided you to your bed and sat you down.

Whole body wracked by sobs, you squeezed your eyes shut. And then you saw her. Lys. The money lender’s youngest. She was a vision with hair as dark as the night rippling down to her waist, skin so beautiful as if covered in specks of gold. You envisioned a goddess enveloped in the strong, reliable arms of your beloved and your heart sank to your stomach.

As bewitching as she was, no man in his right mind would take her as his wife for she could hear the words they never dared to utter. And that was treacherous territory even for the bravest, the most virtuous of them all. Lys could crawl into the mind of anyone she laid a mere finger on and their deepest, darkest secrets would come unraveled to her.

She could hear them all. All but one - the only one you held dear.

As soon as they got a whiff of this, the elders arranged her marriage with Baekhyun showing utter disregard for his consent.

“Let’s run away together”, you managed feebly, dreading his obvious answer. 

Devastated, he searched your eyes as a silent tear streamed down his cheek. He took your hands in his, tenderly pressed them to his lips and broke down in sobs.

“You do all their dirty work! Why are they so cruel to you? Why? You’re capable of so much more.” You argued in vain.

His dark eyes shot up to meet yours, stoic and resolute. “I’ve known only one thing all my life that is kill or be killed. You’re only saying this because you don’t know the real me. You’ve never seen me make a man’s head explode. You’ve only ever seen the things I let you see. I am a horrendous brute who was abandoned by his own parents...a monster who deserves no love.

My parents...my parents were simple-minded villagers who perceived anything out of the ordinary as black-hearted. After they found out what I was capable of, they started looking at me like I was different...like I was not human. They’d feed me leftovers, starve me for days, even try to beat the demon out of me. Nothing worked. I was still capable of doing the things that they considered wicked sorcery. At last they decided to sell me off to a merchant for a jagged piece of silver. 

The caravan was on one of their travels to the east at the time. They stopped by a field outside my village. It was the elders who spotted me… an eight year old left to his own devices, drawing water out of a well only with the sheer force of his mind. It was Minseok’s father who saved me that day. He saved me from the unthinkable. I can’t do this to them… I can’t let them down. And the more I think about it, I know that I have nothing to offer you. I have mastered no trade, I possess no talent for the arts. I have nothing to give you. I believe you deserve better. You’ve always deserved better. Better than -” His voice trailed off.

.

.

.

“Show me your best blade.”

A glossy yet assertive female voice fell upon your ears while you sat polishing some of the antiquated procurements with alcohol. Your grandfather loved for his collection to be immaculate as if they were elegant relics or souvenirs and not lethal weapons, a single plunge in the right place from which could mean only one thing. Though gradually and unwittingly, you grew up to care for them as such too.

“What do you need it for?” You inquired, attention fixed on the task at hand.

The sound of the visitor’s footsteps grew closer but before you could turn around, firm hands rested upon your shoulders, squeezing hard. The visitor whispered in your ear, “One that is good enough for carving a man’s heart out of his chest”, and broke into a high pitched, maniacal laughter.

“Lys!” Scared out of your wits, you exclaimed as all sounds suddenly started to become more and more distant. Everything faded out of sight and you felt like a lamb to the slaughter under her terrorizing gaze. She continued to look at you intently and shot you a knowing smile, effectively binding your limbs in dread. Tossing a piece of silver in your direction, she walked away with a freshly polished navaja, a fighting knife.

.

.

.

The sheer idea of Lys being aware of your deepest secret rendered you physically and mentally incapacitated for the rest of the day. Anxiety took over, tormenting you with the worst possible consequences of your now unveiled thoughts.

One that is good enough for carving a man’s heart out of his chest.

What did she mean by that? Would Baekhyun have to bear the brunt of your feelings? Has he not suffered enough at the hands of this family by constantly living on the edge of terror and despair?

Would this cost him his life? 

Sleep evaded you that night.

Wearing a weapon in the thick braid of yarn around your waist, you threw a shawl over your shoulders, gathered your skirts and headed towards Baekhyun’s caravan.

***

Just as you were about to reach for the door, it swung open and appeared before you two well built, dark haired men - one of them a head taller than the other. Your heart stopped the moment a pair of feline eyes bore into yours. Minseok closed the door behind him and you instinctively backpedalled, almost tumbling over a piece of rock until Yixing grabbed you by your arm to steady you.

"Bladerunner, what are you doing here?" Yixing asked genially but a glint of suspicion danced in his eyes. 

Your mind made up too many excuses for you to actually be able to stick with one. 

"Answer him, Bladerunner." Minseok commanded with a hardened expression. 

Baekhyun trotted out of his caravan and answered good naturedly, "Bulibasha, I'd asked her to bring me a vial of chamomile essential oil. It helps with my muscle spasms."

"Why would you ask that of a Bladerunner, Baekhyun? Is she running an illicit trade?” Yixing inquired, tilting his head to the side, the dimpled smile on his face unflinching

“Bulibasha, I-” Trembling from head to toe, you bowed before him expressing repentance.

Minseok gave you a quick once over and asked Baekhyun, “Why is she dressed like a looter? Tell us what’s going on, Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun and you were both well aware that Minseok and Yixing weren’t men you could deceive. They would smell a lie from miles away and the truth would lead to a certain death...or worse, banishment from the clan.

Forget about him, dragă. He's no nurturer...

Your mother's voice boomed in your ears, seizing your throat and bringing tears to your eyes. 

“No chicanaries, Baekhyun.” Yixing warning came out sounding more like an advice.

The moment you opened your mouth to confess in a way that would save Baekhyun's neck from the noose, he took two small strides and stood next to you. Eyes downcast, he held your ice cold hand in his and declared defiantly, “We’re in love with each other, Bulibasha.”

***

Yixing ordered to see Minseok, Baekhyun, and you in his private chamber at the break of dawn. To your utter surprise, he permitted Baekhyun to walk you back home provided he would be back within the quarter of an hour. 

Your caravan was encircled with a faint golden light from the fireflies dancing around it. Baekhyun smiled weakly at the tragically beautiful sight and you committed the slow upward curl of his tender lips to memory. 

Your heart was laden with guilt. When wrapped you in his arms, you whispered into his strong chest as your mind was clouded over with the familiar, comforting scent of sandalwood on his skin, “You shouldn’t have.”

“I shouldn’t have let it come to this. I should’ve stood up for us long ago. I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me.” He breathed softly and plucked the string akin to a noose from around his neck and slid it into the inside pocket of his coat.

“Whatever happens tomorrow”, he whispered as a silent tear made its way down his cheek, “remember that I will never leave your side. Rest assured, I will never let any harm come to you. I love you... I always have and I always will.”

.

.

.

Yixing’s bender tent was twice the size of your caravan. Dimly lit and carpeted, it exuded an intimidating aura. Draped in black, red, and gold panels it carried portraits of eminent members of the clan and the largest one, the one the clan leader himself stood before, was that of a black and gold dragon the mere sight of which was enough to bring the bravest of the men down to their knees. Minseok was seated next to Yixing against the backdrop of the portrait of his own father. His eyes were smoldering embers as he returned your meek obligatory smile with a scowl and stared you down as you and Baekhyun knelt before them. A sense of impending doom settled deep into your bones. 

Sure, you felt dread and panic, but just this once you did not feel guilt. Apparently, neither did Baekhyun.

‘Being able to know you and love you has been the greatest gift of all’, was the only thing he’d said to you this morning. 

“Bladerunner, did you not have prior knowledge of Baekhyun’s engagement with Minseok’s sister?” Expression neutral, Yixing was quick to do away with unnecessary introductions and jump to the heart of the matter.

When your eyes met his, you realized it would take him mere seconds to burn this room and everything along with it down to ashes. You wondered if he understood the language of the eyes because it was exactly what you implored him to do.

“Bulibasha, we -” Baekhyun spoke on your behalf but with a raised hand Yixing commanded him to stay quiet while holding your gaze steadily.

“I did, Bulibasha.” You declared with all the strength that you could muster, yet your voice was no louder than a whisper.

Lips stretched into a thin line, Yixing’s gaze mellowed as did his countenance when he asked, “Yet, you continued to pursue your relationship with him?”

You hung your head in response.

“Bulibasha -” Baekhyun stood up and pleaded fervently, “Bulibasha, please -”

“This is not something a woman of honour would do now, would she, Bladerunner?” Minseok spat in disgust.

“Minseok!” Baekhyun bellowed, hands balled into fists and seething with rage. You shot a glance at his reddened face, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. A part of you wanted to grab his hand to soothe him but a Minseok’s sharp glare of contempt changed your mind.

“Yes, Bulibasha.” You chose to answer Yixing in your effort to quiet things down.

“Bulibasha”, fiery gaze still boring into Minseok’s, Baekhyun said to Yixing, “I wish to secede from the clan.” 

He turned to look at Yixing and pleaded with him, “If this isn’t something a woman of honour would do, then can I be called a man of honour? Should a man like me be allowed to serve the clan? I’ve toyed with not one but the hearts of two respectable young women. This is the only thing I ask of you, Yixing. If our friendship means anything to you, command me to leave and let the Bladerunner continue living with the clan as if none of this ever happened.”

“The Bladerunner has been found guilty of breaking ethical codes, Bulibasha”, Minseok reasoned, “the Zakono beseeches her expulsion instead and Baekhyun should be asked to keep the promise he made to my sister.”

Both Baekhyun and you stole a glance at each other acquiescing in how well-prepared Minseok was. Suddenly, you heard an unmistakable sharp, slicing sound of metal against metal. Acting upon instinct, you quickly rose and threw yourself at Baekhyun, pushing him down to the floor and out of range as a dagger came flying through from the entrance behind you. It flew past the top of your right ear, nicking your helix and lodging itself in the right eye pupil of the portrait in front of you. It was the portrait of Minseok’s father.

Under the startled glare of everyone in attendance, the knife thrower grinned proudly at her skills.

It was Lys.

It took you a moment to realize that had Baekhyun not been pushed out of the way, the blade would’ve gone piercing through his back straight into his heart. Her silken voice boomed ominously in your ears.

One that is good enough for carving a man’s heart out of his chest.

“Lys! You’ve ruined Father’s portrait!” Minseok lambasted his little sister.

Head cocked to the side, Lys sauntered over to her father’s portrait, brushing your arm with her fingernails as she passed you by. Full scarlet lips stretched into a gratified smile, lustrous skin and dark hair glimmering in the soft golden glow of the tent, she pulled the knife out in one graceful movement. 

Chucking to herself, she came and stood before you. Placing a hand on your cheek she whispered, “You have beautiful skin, Bladerunner. I’d hate to ruin it.” She ran the blade of the dagger (which you recognized as navaja) along your jaw down to your clavicle. Unflinching, you met her eyes, letting her know that you’d long accepted your fate. She pressed the blade into the side of your neck, leaving you with a deep cut that was as long as your little finger. Blood began to run from it immediately but instead of pain you felt a sense of relief wash over you. 

Baekhyun pulled you out of the way and stood like a barrier between you and Lys, glaring at her. His jaw went tight as he roughly grabbed her knife bearing arm, the firm grasp of his fingers was sure to leave her with striking red streaks along her wrist. Smiling to herself, Lys stretched out her other hand in front of Baekhyun. “Hand it over. It never looked good on you, anyway.”

He was quick to draw the basil necklace from the inside pocket of his coat and slap it in her palm. Next, he slowly drew the navaja out of her grasp, inviting a loud gasp from Minseok.

“Baekhyun! What have you done?” Yixing roared.

One prevalent belief still held by the clan was that taking a knife straight from  someone’s hand meant that the relationship between the giver and the recipient had been severed. But the enormity of his own action was lost on Baekhyun. 

He declared instead, “If the Bladerunner is to be punished, Bulibasha, I deserve a harsher punishment. I don’t care what the Zakono says. You can’t go on acting like she was alone in this!”

Minseok, who seemed to be at a loss for words, simply glared at Baekhyun’s out-of-character rebelliousness.

It was Lys who spoke first. Searching Baekhyun’s eyes, she said to nobody in particular, “He seeks her when he’s upset. And even when he’s not.” Turning to bow before Yixing, Lys stated, "Bulibasha, I would like to request a private audience."

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.

.

You slept all day after the trial and woke up a little before noon the following morning. 

It had felt like one mammoth nightmare - right from the day you laid your eyes on the sprig of basil around Baekhyun’s neck to yesterday when he smacked it in Lys’ hand - leaving you with yet another battle wound on your quest to rescue the man you loved. What transpired yesterday between Lys and Minseok was known only to Yixing, Baekhyun, and you and you were all under an oath to never speak of it again. 

The jamdhar was now in Yixing’s custody and it was most likely to be buried deep into the earth after a final discussion with the Elders.

Work that day went by in a daze - all you wanted now was to spend every second of everyday with your beloved but you abandoned the idea till the dust on the matter had settled. You came home to a potted plant which stood pretty on the windowsill of your rustic brown caravan and looked picturesque against the pink bougainvillea creeper around it. 

The plant was that of basil.

A basil plant on the window of a woman indicated that she was spoken for. Only one person could’ve put it there. The moment reached out for the plant, you felt a firm grip strengthen around your waist, pulling you closer. Baekhyun nuzzled the side of your neck, soft lips brushing along the edge of your clavicle. This time you didn’t fight this long overdue affection, instead revelled in it.

“Men and women shouldn’t be inappropriately intimate”, you breathed as you found yourself caged between the caravan and the length of Baekhyun’s muscular frame. His lips found yours, teeth playfully tugging at your lower lip before exploring every inch of your exposed skin crudely, eliciting soft moans from your parted lips. His hands found your hips, thumbs digging deep just over your hip bone. His lips teased the sensitive part on your neck as his fingers moved to unfasten the lace of your tan buckskin waistcoat. Threading your fingers through his hair, you pulled him closer evoking a throaty chuckle from him. Giving the sensitive spot the attention that it deserved, Baekhyun took you by the waist and in one swift movement you were lifted off your feet and scooped into his strong arms. 

You buried your face into the crook of his neck as he pushed the door to your caravan open with his elbow. He gently laid you on the bed, one corner of his mouth raised in a smirk. Cocking his eyebrow, he allowed his eyes to mercilessly rove over your dishevelled state before slowly sliding into bed with you.

***

You were woken not by the everyday melody of songbirds but by a loud clang that rang mercilessly though your caravan. 

“I just...wanted to make you some chao!” Pants hung dangerously low on his waist, a brazenly shirtless Baekhyun exclaimed, the boom of his voice echoing in your ears. Rubbing the sleep away from your eyes, you gave him a quick once over while your head had already begun to throb slightly thanks to the unwelcome blaring this early in the morning. Veiling your modesty with a fleece blanket, you floundered out of the comfort of the bed and meticulously studied the sorry state of your sacred space - your precious little kitchen. 

Olive green eggshells were carelessly strewn across the counter. The contents in the saucepan that was perched atop the stove bubbled frenetically, threatening to overflow. Even in your sleep befuddled state you could make out that Baekhyun had carelessly thrown three deshelled pheasant eggs in boiling water which had now dissipated in a foamy mess.

“Baekhyun, what do you think this is?” You raised a green box the size of your palm embossed with a delicate gold flowery pattern, to his eye level. 

“Sugar.”

The throbbing in your head increased and your eyes started brimming with tears. 

“Where did you find this box, Baekhyun?” You questioned condescendingly.

“In your medicine crate?” He drew the sentence out in a question, taking a cautious step back.

But you took a threatening step in his direction and spoke in a deep, menacing voice. “You….you thought I’d keep sugar in my medicine crate?”

“There was no sugar ...no sugar in..in the cabinet!”

“You know I never use sugar in or for anything.” You maintained, as a tear rolled down your cheek.

“Why are you crying?” He asked, eyes fixed on the green box that was clutched possessively to your chest.

“Baekhyun did you use whatever’s in this box?”

“N-no?”

“You don’t seem so sure?”

“I did not! You’re scaring me now! What is in this box?”

“Tell me you didn’t use it, Baekhyun!”

“I did not use it! I promise! Now will you tell me? Please?” 

Exhaling heavily, you answered, “My life’s work”, and hid the box in the farthest corner of the medicine crate. 

“Explain”, he said with a yawn.

“Mithridatum...a poison antidote made from sixty-five ingredients. It’s an ancient recipe and it’s taken me fifteen years to research, scavenge for ingredients, and formulate.”

“Why do you keep it around so carelessly!”

“Carelessly?! It was in my medicine crate!”

“You know I need sugar in my chao, dragă.” He pouted.

You handed him a bottle from the kitchen cabinet, “Use this. It’s tapioca syrup.”

“Won’t taste the same but I’ll survive. Now let’s put Mister Mithridatum someplace safer, shall we?”

“Miss Mithridatum is safe enough in my medicine crate as long as you keep away from it. Thank you very much.”

Baekhyun beamed. You knew this smile a little too well so you checked to see if your fleece blanket was doing its job. But Baekhyun was nothing if not audacious. He advanced towards you as you retracted. Hands on hips, putting on a wide grin, he spoke in a voice laced with sugar and spice, “Nice outfit.”

You gathered the fabric up to your neck and bit on your lower lip to keep from blushing. “Thank you.” You said sweetly, feigning innocence.

“You’d look better without it.” He towered over you as you hit a dead end, with your back against the wall of your tiny living space.

You pushed him in the chest and he cried out like a wounded puppy. “Baekhyunnie, bring us some breakfast from my mother’s, will you? Don’t make it look like you spent the night with me, alright? Go now, I’m famished!”

“Of course, you are.” Baekhyun teased and his face scrunched up in a bright yet bashful smile.

“Don’t forget to put on a shirt!”

***

Your mother sent you a generous portion of pumpkin stew and fried cornbread which Baekhyun and you ate - no - inhaled in silence in the comfort of your caravan. 

“I have something to say.” He looked at you solemnly and you felt your heart sink to your stomach. And it probably manifested in your eyes since he took your hands in his immediately and calmed you down, “Good...good something, dragă!”

“Baekhyunnie, you scared me.” Panic betrayed your voice and water started pooling in your eyes.

“We’re never to be parted again, dragă. I’ll follow you into the shower too if you like.” He nodded solemnly.

“I don’t think that will be necessary.” Frowning, you teasingly clarified.

“We’ll see about that later. Anyway, since Minseok has let me go as part of the settlement...you know whatever happened with...with -”

“Lys.”

“Yes. So, I have a lot of free time on hand. And your iubit doesn’t know much about anything but he knows weapons.” He looked at you intently and shot you a knowing smile.

You urged him to continue with an anxious nod.

“After we’re married, I could speak with dya and take over the weapons’ trade and you can… probably.. continue to make more Miss Mithridates? Or do nothing at all, I’ll be the sole breadwinner of our little, happy family.” He declared, flexing his muscles. 

You held him by the wrist and put his hand back in his lap to reinforce the seriousness of the conversation and asked, “You would do that?”

“Unless you want me following you into the shower everyday...yes.”

“What if Yixing disapproves?”

“He can’t, dragă. My freedom...is...it’s part of the settlement.”

You leaned back and looked up into his face, blinking tears from your eyes. You held your finger up at him and mouthed, ‘One moment.’

Rummaging through his clothes you found what you were looking for and said to him excitedly, “I can’t believe you still have this!”

It was the scarf you’d tied around his elbow the day he injured himself while sneakily watching you sing and dance by the pond.

“Already snooping through my things? You wound me!” Baekhyun pulled you into his lap and whispered into your ear, “I take it with me wherever I go.”

You skillfully drew out a couple of loose threads from the scarf and reached out for a fresh sprig of basil from the plant on your windowsill. Weaving the sprig into the threads you studied his face with rosy eyes. 

“Hurry up!” Said Baekhyun, tugging at your arm. As you were helping him wear the necklace with trembling fingers, his hands travelled the length of your back and his lips ghosted over yours, inhaling your unsteady breaths. 

An disappointing knock on the door jolted you out of your celebration.

“Are we interrupting something?” A familiar voice reached your ears and you felt your face flame. Smoothing your hair and skirts you scrambled out of Baekhyun’s lap and bowed before the visitor, not daring to meet his eyes.

“Ah! Yixing! You should know better than to walk in on a couple unannounced!” Baekhyun grumbled and ran a hand through his hair, still seated with his legs wide apart. He took your hand in his and pulled you back into his lap.

“Bulibasha -”

Yixing merely chuckled at your embarrassment while looking around your uncharacteristically messy caravan for a place to sit. Pulling away from Baekhyun, you tidied the bed for him.

“Bulibasha, you said we.”

“I’m sorry?” Yixing gaped at you, confused.

“Are we interrupting -” You explained, feeling the heat rising up to your cheeks again.

“Oh, yes! Minseok, come on in!” Yixing bellowed.

“Are you sure Baekhyun’s completely clothed?” Came a high pitched voice from outside the caravan.

Yixing snorted and exclaimed, “Pretty much!”

Minseok cautiously stepped into your caravan and bowed politely.

“You too? Can’t I have some alone time with my beloved?” Baekhyun whined.

“It’s been less than a day and you’ve forgotten us already!” Minseok chided, taking a seat next to Yixing.

“Such is a woman’s love, Minseok. It beguiles the best of us! Anyway, we won’t keep you too long.” Yixing winked at Baekhyun and you bashfully retreated to make the guests some chao.

“Come and join us, Bladerunner, there’s no need for formalities.” Said Minseok curtly and you immediately obliged. There was nothing to serve the beverage with, anyway, apart from watery eggs in a pot.

You came and stood next to Baekhyun and rested a hand upon his shoulder. He immediately intertwined his fingers with yours and you felt relief surging through your veins.

“I’d like to apologise for the things I said to your woman, Baekhyun. It was unkind of me.” Minseok stated, his tone contrite.

“You were only looking out for your little sister. If I were in your place, I would’ve probably done the same.” Baekhyun replied in all earnesty.

Minseok and Baekhyun gave each other a meaningful nod before the cat-eyed man turned to you and said gently, “I truly wish you both a lifetime of happiness, and I’ll make sure to knock some manners into the boy before he’s permanently consigned to you.”

You glanced over to the kitchen and laughed, “That would be of great help!” before peering at Baekhyun who feigned offence at Minseok’s words.

“One last thing before we take your leave.” Said Yixing, slapping his thigh, “The Elders have suggested the full moon of the fourth month for the wedding. Bladerunner, I trust you will convey this to your dya?”

You gave Yixing a measured smile and nodded.

“And Baekhyun -”

Baekhyun pulled you into his lap and held you by the small of your back. Lovingly searching your eyes, he whispered, “I can’t wait.”

*********************************

A/N: This oneshot will be followed up with a spin-off for Lys which will explain what transpired in the “courtroom” but if you know me, you’ll know about my snail’s pace when it comes to updating. So I’ll be happy to give you a summary over DM if you’d like! :)

This was my first time attempting something in this genre/theme so I’d absolutely love to hear your thoughts on it. 

Also, Piper, I’m sorry you got stuck with me :P

[buoyfriend]

29 - The Final Days of the Thirteenth Shard

Our world had dragged on for so long. Years after that horrid crack sounded from the earth, we found ways to survive. We found food, we found shelter, we kept each other alive for as long as we could. We had forsaken our gods, praying to one alone. We held parades, we listened to every word, we sacrificed her emissaries to dutifully honor her. Still, we could not forestall the final days.

My village was small, not for lack of trying. I was the last to be born, the very last of my kind. When I was called that, they would not count the one other.

My very first memory was the first of many events where we gathered in the square at the center of town. Every year, our foul goddess would choose to speak to us. Etro's blessing, a young girl, the oracle, trotted out before us to speak the goddess' words to the rest of us. It was never anything of substance, just continued pleas for hope amid the end of things, the final days for us all.

My grandmother told me once before bed about the day they all knew it would be over. For years before that, there was dread. Fighting over resources, petty regional conflicts over land. But one day, a sharp crack met the ears of all. Across our entire world, a crack like a scream coming from the planet itself. Sometime after, the crops began to fail. In a sick twist of fate, it mattered little because there were fewer people to feed.

Children arrived earthside without taking their first breath, many couldn't fall pregnant in the first place. Try and try as they might, no more children were born in our village or any other. I was the very last.

--

I was a small boy, maybe five summers. My mother scraped a comb through my hair to be presentable for the oracle. I scowled, kicked my legs, cried. I didn't see the point of it then, and I would loathe the event more as time wore on. No expense was spared this year. The previous oracle had passed some years before as they are wont to do after seventeen summers. Finally, our new oracle was ready to speak before us.

A band played music too loud for my ears, dead flower petals showered before the priests as they walked ahead of her. Finally, after much fanfare, I spied a palanquin emerging as I watched on from my father's shoulders. A girl, purple haired as all oracles. About my age. She cried and shrieked, frightened by the crowd. She spoke her same speech, a plea for hope at the end of things. Rejection of the final days.

--

My father passed in my fifteenth summer, his body failing him like the world around him. I watched him by the firelight, coughing and straining as he passed from nature into eternity. I didn't cry then, I watched my mother cry for us both.

He trained me with his bow for years before that. I'd had my own, but I took up his after we laid him to rest in the barren fields. I traveled far to hunt. Few animals remained, choosing their odds of survival in the deepest forests away from the ruins of civilization.

It was there that I found the oracle. Purple haired, legs dangling in a rushing river. "You'll get caught up in the water if you're not careful" I said from a few yalms behind her. She shook her head, escaping whatever daydream she had been caught up in. She stood slowly, not breaking her eye contact with me. She was beautiful, her eyes the green of my forests. The oracle backed away slowly as she raised her arms, shaking heavily. "I'm Noel, you must be the oracle."

She wouldn't answer me. She turned to run, but not as carefully as me. She tripped on one of the many traps I'd set, thankfully the least lethal of them. I caught up to her, straining to free her leg from the trap. She shuddered as my skin brushed hers. I wondered if she had ever had contact with a person outside of the temple.

"Let me go!" she cried.

"I'm trying!"

"They'll be angry if they know I left."

"I'm sure. Here, I'll hold it open if you can pull your leg."

She whimpered before her soft sound gave way to a scream as she pulled her limb away from the steel trap. Her leg was absolutely mangled.

"I-I can't go back like this." she stuttered, her eyes welling with tears.

"Here, I'll run back to town and grab some supplies. Let me...hm." I paused to open my bag, but none of my supplies would help in the short term. I took off my sash and wrapped on her leg. She followed my gesture to rest against a tree as I brought her my bag to prop her leg upon.

--

I returned, and gratefully she got to keep her leg! Jokes aside, she returned many times after that. Not immediately, of course. Some months after, she would return to tell me about her ruse to hide her injury. She insisted to the priests that Etro had called her to meditate deeply in silence and solitude for a period of months. She opted to wear long robes in this quest, all to hide her healing injury.

She told me much and more after that. I showed her the locations of my traps, and she found me safely on each of my hunts. I showed her how to use my bow, in return she told me how foul it was to be an oracle. The dismissiveness of her eternal guardian, Caius, the coldness he showed her.

"It's probably not a pleasant experience to raise a child every seventeen years only to watch them die." I told her.

"Certainly. Still, it's so lonely. I wish..." she paused to gaze out at the same river I'd first spied her at. "I wish I really knew anyone. I wish I could speak as myself, not a mouthpiece for some fickle goddess. Even you, you just call me 'The Oracle'"

"You've never told me your name, you just complain about being a pampered prince-oh, forgive me, oracle."

"Yeul. My name is Yeul."

--

Yeul loathed Etro. She loathed the visions Etro showed her, of our skies burning red, of stars crashing into the surface of our world, of every day people becoming foul beasts. She told me her deepest wish.

"If I could end all of this and set the world right, I think I'd live on a beach."

"A beach? How do you even know what a beach is?"

"I've seen them in books. There's a painting of one in my favorite story. I think I'd fish all day."

"I'd fish with you, I'm quite good."

"So I've seen. Would you live with me?"

I blushed at her suggestion. She was truly quite beautiful. Her face was so soft, her eyes so kind. At the world's end, we cast off tomorrow. We had cast off yesterday. I hadn't considered anyone to be a lover, nearly everyone was vastly older than me. I hadn't considered Yeul, she was approaching her seventeenth summer. I knew that she would die, and that she was not mine. She belonged to our horrid little village at the end of the world.

"I would, if you'd have me."

"Then we'd live there, on the beach. And we'd fill the whole house with babies."

My face grew hot. "I-Yeul" I stuttered. She laughed heavily, more heartily than any day past. I softened at the sight of her. "Is seven enough?" I asked. "No, fourteen. Twenty."

--

Our village was small, but not for lack of trying. My visits with Yeul were weekly until they were every few days, until they were daily. She had become skilled at sneaking out of her prison to navigate the forests. We built a small...house is too generous a word. But it was ours. We built a small house in the forest. I met her there every day to insist my love for her, to try to give her all she wanted. I gave her myself, I gave her my dignity as I apologized for my inexperience. She gave me her forgiveness in my fumbles and my overexcitement.

--

Our visits ended with a visit from Caius himself. I proudly marched into our home in the trees to find not my lover, but her guardian.

"Yeul is not as clever as she thinks. Neither are you, boy."

I tensed as I watched the man sit atop our makeshift bed. He bounced slightly, judging the craftsmanship. "I will not tell your parents, nor the priests, nor the village." he said, eyes washing over Yeul's things on a shelf.

"How did you find this place?"

"Like I said, she is not as clever as she thinks. She leaves a clear trail, never thinking how it came to be that she could escape in the first place."

My brow raised, he answered my silent question "How do you think it was that she could leave the temple in increasing frequency? How is it that the windows are left unlocked, that the gate is left attended at the correct hour?"

"Why would you help her leave?"

"Do you really think I'm so cruel, boy? I have watched her live and die. I have watched her take her first breaths and her life a thousand, thousand times. Do you think I wish this? Do you think this was my choice? Do you really think me so stupid that I would choose to be the puppet of a foul god?"

To tell the truth, I hadn't thought much of him at all. He was simply part of the parade that rolled through my town each year, an obstacle to Yeul reaching me. "No, sir."

"Relax, Noel. If you wish to see her again- yes, I would allow you to see her. If you wish to see her again, you must prove that you can do what is required."

"I would do anything."

"I hope for us both that is true."

--

I spied Yeul in the temple. Her eyes widened as she saw me walk with Caius, mouthing words I couldn't interpret. Every day, I trained with him. I thought that I was good with my bow, but Caius proved my inability with knives and swords. I read until my eyes burned, I punched targets until my hands bled.

"When will this be done?" I asked through panting breaths.

"You will receive the Heart of Chaos when you can prove that you deserve it." he replied.

"What does that take?"

"Everything."

I loathed his riddles. When I thought he might not be watching, though I'm sure he always watched from some distance, I explored the temple. I found my way to Yeul's chambers. Incense burned, hanging thick in the air. I found her paintings, paintings of me as I nocked my bow in focused determination. So many paintings of me, of my village. One of a cottage on a beach.

I heard her footsteps rushing towards me as her door slammed shut. She held me tightly, arms wrapping around me from behind my back. "How did you get in here?" she said in a bitter whisper.

"I came with Caius."

"Why?" she begged.

"I'm going to...I'm going to take on the Heart of Chaos. To be eternal like him."

"I-I just...Noel, why would you do something so stupid?"

"To free you from this."

"He's been alive for an eternity and he can't."

"Because he won't, because he hasn't tried everything. Yeul, if I had that kind of time, I would...I would do anything."

--

Our world had dragged on for so long. Years after that horrid crack sounded from the earth, we found ways to survive. We found food, we found shelter, we kept each other alive for as long as we could. We had forsaken our gods, praying to one alone. We held parades, we listened to every word, we sacrificed her emissaries to dutifully honor her. Still, we could not forestall the final days.

I trained from sunrise to sunset every day. My grandmother passed, my mother passed. I vowed that Yeul would not. The sky began to burn red, the laws of nature twisted as the gentle animals of our forest became foul beasts. Soon, our remaining people would find the same fate, our dread made manifest. They grew fearful, descending into madness before they transformed. The land buckled, our village burned, the waters ran red with blood. What little we had left fell away, naught was left but the temple.

On the final day, the beasts began to breach the walls of the temple. I dragged Yeul behind me as we ran to the crypts. I felled beast after beast, friend after friend. Neighbor after neighbor. I begged that I would not fall to my despair, that I could remain to protect her.

It was too late. Yeul had begun to lose control of herself for some time, I prayed that some way, some how, she could hold on longer. Perhaps she was special, perhaps by sheer force of will, I could keep her from the fate that had befallen every oracle I could.

She collapsed as I sealed the crypt's door behind us. I ran to catch her, to hold her as the light began to leave her. I held her tightly in both arms, begging her not to leave. I begged her not to leave me here at the end of the world. The walls of the crypt began to crumble around us, rocks falling from the ceiling.

She looked into my eyes, and I caught hers. Deep forests, piercing through me. She sang softly, "Valhalla is calling me to the end, I can hear now the beating hearts of lost friends" I promised her, I would see her alive again. I would find her. I would break this cycle, and we would find our home on the beach.

A splitting headache overtook me, I lost my vision until I found myself somewhere else. I thought perhaps I'd died, that a rock had hit my head. I was weightless, swimming in a sea of stars before a crystal as tall as the buildings of old. A voice called out to me, "Welcome and well met, my brave little spark. She heard your promise and the gods heard it too."

"The gods?"

"Yes, my poor, suffering dear. I would offer you another chance. Another chance to make good on your words."

I searched for a face, a body, anyone. Anyone to unleash my fury upon. "Another chance? I will not-I will not hear this farce. Now you choose to offer help?" I struggled, to no avail.

"Do not struggle, my sweet child. I will take your soul to the beginning of things, to the days before this madness. l will give you another chance and bear you to a perfect world, a world unsundered. Your souls together, whole, you can stop the Final Days before it ever begins."

I weighed her offer. How could I trust Etro, foul and fickle? How could I trust this god that would birth new oracles, throwing them into the fire since time immemorial? She spoke to me again, "If you fail, the world will be sundered once more. The tragedy that has befallen this star will take place once again. You will be caught in the same cycle of time, like Yeul, like Caius. You will live and die, struggling against fate."

I would not fail, I could not. Even if I tried many times, I had promised her I would break her cycle of death and rebirth. I would give her peace, fishing on the beach, a house full of life. She asked me "What would you do to make good on your promise to her?"

I had trained, I had given all I had. I had given Yeul all of myself. Still, I would do more. I would have done any task Caius asked of me, I would have hoped against hope to give Yeul her wishes.

"I would do anything."

[hes-writer]

Routine

Summary: y/n catches harry live streaming a show

Warning: smut

Word Count: 2293 words

___

University was no joke. It’s expensive for sure. Harry had a full-time job at the beginning of the semester working at a cafe near his flat. He soon found out that that wasn’t the best idea. Maybe because he didn’t manage his time right or it was simply too exhausting for him to work late hours when he had to take mandatory morning classes. His next solution was more--risky per se. 

Harry had always been confident with his body. He ate well; loading up on fruit smoothies and veggie shakes every morning to accompany him on his early morning workouts. The sweat beading in between his toned pecs made him revel in the accomplishments of self-care, washed away as he palmed his face underneath the stream of the locker room shower. His wet curls stuck to his small ears as he pulled his sweater over his body, exiting the gym with a bag slung over his shoulder, plucking a peace sign to the person at the front desk as he left the building. 

It started off as a blog; posting pictures of his body that he worked hard on. The narcissist in him craved the compliments of strangers drooling over his muscles and shapely body. Sometimes the messages he received were explicit, but he also couldn’t help the arousal flowing through his veins as blood pumped towards his cock. Thus, the next part of his routine was to go home to his flat and strip his body off of his clothes. His webcam would be switched on with a push of a button, his long fingers floating over the keyboard as he signed in to his account. 

Speaking of, the meat between his thighs plumped up with the lingering thought of user ‘sweetgirl112’ messages last night. How much she wanted to tuck his thick length in her mouth, how much she craved to feel his large hands adorning her body. God, she had such a way with words and here Harry was with an erection pudging up in his lycra leggings. An outline of his mushroom head visible through the tight material. He played with his bottom lip as he waited for the traffic light to turn green. One hand tapped against the steering wheel in a rhythmic pattern, his mind drifting away to how it would feel like to have those pleasures within his reach. 

But he didn’t. 

He rushed off from his seat, quickly locking his car and keying the front door to his flat. Harry was hornier than usual today, thanks to sweetgirl’s lovely messages from last night. Harry rolled his eyes at the effect the stranger had on him. He dropped the chain dangling from his fingers on the bowl beside his door, sighing with excitement as he toed off his runners. 

On the couch, Y/N snoozed with her mouth agape, hair messily splayed across the pillow he provided her. He almost forgot she had slept over last night during their movie night. She insisted to sleep on the sofa despite Harry offering his bed to share between the both of them. In the end, both of them slept on the uncomfortable cushion cuddled up into one another. The distance between them was non-existent but Harry found it endearing the way Y/N cuddled up into his body in order not to fall off the edge, snuggling into his chest with a quiet snore after jolting when one of her legs tumbled of the border. 

Nonetheless, that meant that Harry had to tone his volume down a bit, keeping a keen ear to make sure his noises don’t wake her up or arise any alarm from his friend. He crouched down beside her sleeping face, waving a hand over her eyes to make sure she was still in a deep sleep. 

“Hope yer’ having sweet dreams,” His thick accent made the words stick to his tongue, lazily drooping like honey. Harry pressed a kiss to her forehead, ignoring the way his heart thumped as she smiled slightly in her sleep, humming with satisfaction and cuddling closer to the pillow clutched between her arms. 

Adorable, Harry thought. 

Soft footsteps tiptoed over his bedroom, shutting the door gently. He stretched his arms to remove the black sweater over his head, ruffling his curls in the process. His nose hooked at the opening, muffling his breath for a bit that had him tumbling down on the end of his bed with a slight bounce. Harry is clumsy.

He managed to remove the rest of his clothes without further trouble, leaving him in his boxers briefs and socks which he would take off when he got situated in his office chair situated in front of his computer. His set up was on the corner of his room, facing the door. It was a bit odd at first but Harry learned to make it work. 

Harry pushed two pumps of coconut-scented lotion into his large palm, lathering his upper body with a subtle sheen, moisturizing his biceps to appear shiny. The excess cream was rubbed along the nape of his neck, massaging the tense muscles along the way. A swift glance at the time at the bottom corner informed him that he had five minutes left until his scheduled show would begin. In preparation, Harry gathered the items he might need during his session. A bottle of clear, water-based lube, a bullet vibrator that recently joined his collection of toys and a silicone cock ring that looked to be a struggle to fit around his plump dick. He set the items aside on the table in front of where he would be sitting. 

Harry chewed on his bottom lip, hands grasping the width of his hip as he opted to check on Y/N again. She was a heavy sleeper and the show will probably take around thirty minutes to do, minus the foreplay and all of that. It was still pretty early in the morning too; around ten-thirty, surely she’d stay put till then. He peeked his head through a small gap in his door, craning his neck to catch Y/N shifting just in time to rest on her other side. 

Pretty soon, the webcam displayed a green dot at the corner and his screen was loaded to a  black screen. The chat indicated that there were currently twenty people watching him. The total viewer count increased with each passing second that had Harry grinning to himself. Once the camera was adjusted to where it cut off around his neck, he sat back in his spinny chair, splaying his wide palms on his muscly thighs. 

20 seconds left.

Harry could feel his cock grow in his boxers, the anticipation of his fans commenting on dirty things that they would like to do to him left his imagination endless. A blurt of precum stained the inside of the fabric, dotting the area a darker colour. He sighed deeply, wide eyes watching as the countdown changed.

5...4...3...2...1

In a blink of an eye, Harry’s toned body was showcased on the screen, allowing him to view what his viewers had the pleasure of viewing. The ‘LIVE’ sign blinked repeatedly. 

“Hello,” Harry drawled out purposefully using a deeper tone to set the mood. “How are you today?” His fingers stayed hung over the armchair, griping it slightly when comments started rolling in.

“How’s my baby? Are you needy for me?” He found that the best way to ensure as much of connection between his viewers was to speak as though it was a one-on-one conversation. “Because I am,” A hand crawled towards his crotch where his half-massed dick rested on his upper thigh, the head prominent against the tight briefs. 

Making sure to keep his face out of view, Harry leaned forward to read the remarks.

User12314: i love your tattoos

User48529: what i’d do to have my hands on you

He chuckled to himself, rubbing up and down to tease himself and them even more. Various 'pings' littered the room with Harry thanking each of them as much as possible. 

“I’d love to have my hands on you too,” He gave his cock a gentle squeeze, sucking a breath through his gritted teeth at the sensation. “Wanna feel your body on my skin,” Harry released a throaty groan as he shifted to pinch at his nipples, “Would ya’ let me touch your breasts? I bet they’re soft and perfect for my hands,” His thumb rubbed circles on his top two nipples, shivering slightly.

One palm cupped his balls, thumbing at the middle as the other continued the ministrations on his chest. This went on for a couple more seconds until he pulled his hands away to rest on the ferns tattooed on his hips, rubbing the skin there sensually while he spoke, “Y’wanna see my cock? It’s so hard for you,” The head twitched twice, forcing an involuntary moan to leak from his plump lips. 

User09321: yes please

He sighed at the message, his stomach burning with the need to just wrap his fingers around his dick and jerk it till he cums. But he couldn’t do that—at least not yet.

___

Y/N woke up from her slumber, dizzy and discombobulated about where she was only to realize that the ache in her lower back was caused by Harry’s uncomfortable couch. Her phone buzzed beside her; an alarm to wake up to watch a show. Not just any show—a filthy, dirty cam boy who hadn’t left Y/N’s mind ever since she discovered him for the first time a few days ago. She was drunk on wine and barely remembered what the live stream had contained. He was hot, that much she knew. 

He wore a dark red sweater that covered his body which Y/N found quite adorable. Yet at the same time, his fist peeked out from his bunched sweater paws to desperately tug at his cock while endless whispers and groans flowed from his mouth through the speakers. His covered body arching against his seat, the walls behind him a plain white. Apparently, he was feeling like a sub that day and asked permission to touch himself like a good boy, pleading to cum. His audience couldn’t resist the whine in his deep voice, shooting streams of cum on his sweater, staining the fabric and probably ruining it forever. 

Just before the live stream ended, he reminded everyone when his next show was--today-- and in her drunk daze, Y/N must have set up a reminder on her phone, completely forgetting that she was to hang out with Harry the day before. She rubbed the ball of her palm against her eyes, willing away the sleep on her lids. Sitting up on the cushion, she looked around Harry’s apartment to find the curly-headed boy. 

“Harry?” She called out, checking his kitchen to find it empty. She went to his bathroom to freshen up, picking up her toothbrush that Harry had sweetly brought her after Y/N stayed at his place more times than both of them can count. After spitting out the foam pooling in her cheeks, Y/N dabbed the corners of her mouth with a soft, fluffy towel. 

As she exited the bathroom, Y/N opened up the web browser in incognito mode, refreshing the link from a few days ago. The page loaded slowly, enabling Y/N to continue searching for Harry. She absent-mindedly walked to Harry’s closed bedroom door—the last place she had yet to look. Her phone produced a muffled sound when it finally loaded. She rapidly typed out a comment to send.

“Can’t take it anymore,” The man said, “I‘ve gotta touch myself but I’m wishing it’s you wrapping your hands around m’cock,”

Y/N could feel her thighs tighten, standing in front of Harry’s bedroom. 

Sweetgirl112: touch yourself for me daddy. i wanna hear you say how good it feels

Harry growled upon seeing the message and its user,  pulling the fabric down and letting his dick hit his skin with a faint slapping sound on his flushed stomach. Shaky fingers teased his length, tracing of the prominent veins that pumped his cock with blood. “Mm, it feels so good, love,” His thumb spread the liquid seeping at the tip, making sure to lube the head of his dick for a smooth stroke. 

With distracted thoughts, Y/N pushed the bar handle down, a gentle bump knocking the door open.  

She couldn’t believe her eyes when the loading screen on her phone mirrored the sight in front of her; Harry’s head thrown back, resting against the head of the office chair. Her phone cut off at the veins stretched over the expanse of his neck. His heaving chest glistening with sweat and the faint smell of coconut lingered in the air. His fist pumped his long cock up and down, squeezing at the tip to produce a dollop of wispy pre-cum. Closed eyes blocked his vision from Y/N standing frozen on the door, gazing back and forth towards the device on her sweaty palm to the even hotter view right in front of her.

A resonant sound of ‘pings’ pulled Harry out of his pleasure, lifting his head with the aim to thank whoever tipped him but was taken aback by the sight of his friend at his doorway.

“Oh shit,” He mumbled, impulsively clutching his full balls cradled between his fingers. Harry’s green irises were hooded, observing Y/N’s face with such intensity that it made her want to cower back. His two-front teeth grazed his bottom lip before parting his sweet mouth in a silent gasp at a particularly good stroke. “Wanna join me, baby?”

——

Let me know what you thought!

——

Permanent Taglist: @splendidsunsetx @swagmoneymaya @luviewoo @textingharry @arypesanchez @theresthingsthatwellneverknow @sunguines

[jupiterswlrd]

Spectacular- mark lee

mark never intended on getting bit by a spider on his was home in the subway, he also never intended on saving you from falling in front of the moving train car either. it was all just some sort of sick coincidence. mark had never believed in super powers, yeah what he saw on TV and comics book was cool but it was never realistic. ‘someone just can’t magically change over night’ he thought to himself all the time.

that was, until it happened to him. after his little run in with you he went home and took a nap, shook up a bit on how well his grip on your jacket was, almost like his hands were stuck to you. ‘crazy...’ he chuckled drifting off to sleep. when he woke up his found his upper part of he bunk covered in spider webs.

“ew” he said quietly trying not to wake his roommate haechan up. ‘maybe if hyuck would be a cleaner we wouldn’t have this issue’ mark struggled to sit up something making him stick to his bed. he flopped all around his bed, webs confining his arms to the bed. he finally broke one and somehow tripped off of his bunk. he prepared for his body to hit the ground but something caught him. a string of webs wrapped around his ankle and attached the top bunk. he was confused, but he was mostly relieved. “mark?....” haechan opened his eyes wondering why he saw his roommate dangling from what seemed to be the ceiling. with that the web snapped causing mark to fall on his head.

“dude...” haechan observed mark like he was some foreign species. “did you do that?” he pointed to the the webs covering marks bunk. “n-no!?!?” mark looked at the younger boy like he was out of his mind “do i look like a spider to you?” haechan stared at him for a long minute. “...there’s a fucking web growing out of your wrist right now....”

“HUH?” mark flung his hand somewhere, flinching in a way. haechan grunted loudly his head banging aganist the wall. his body was taped to the wall with one big web. “MARK” he yelled in amazement and extreme pain and discomfort. “I promise i didn’t do that....” mark didn’t know what to do with his hands, he stuck them in the pockets of his shorts fearing himself and what he’d do. haechan eventually broke free, examining the web pattern closely. He had a thing for spiders.

“this is completely unique...your webs have a little M in them. we should take to these y/n, you know shes a science freak” mark completely shut down at the thought of you seeing him shoot webs out of hands. what if you thought he was some kind of freak? “THATS NOT AN OPTIO-“ then you walked into their dorm room, unannounced and unwarranted. “i heard my name from outside the hallway, why are you all so l—“ you were confused to see that mark was no where to be found. “uhhh?? i thought i heard marks voice”

“you di—“ haechan did a double take “oh haha, yeah we were on the phone he’s in the bathroom— he got stuck in the toilet”

haechan shoved you out the room nervously. “yeah so y/n, we’ll see you in class okay?” once you were successfully pushed out the room, mark was sitting with his legs crossed his head in his hands. “bro what the fuck was that?” haechan slammed the door and locked it. “what was what?”

“i don’t know your little disappearing ac— YOU CAN TURN INVISIBLE”

“haechan are you on drugs? you have to be on drugs only people with POWERS can do that and that’s not possible be—“

haechan clamped a hand over marks mouth.

“dude you’ve done the impossible for like 2 hours now, you have powers” the younger boy slid on his shoes and grabbed his jacket. “where are you going?” mark asked laying back down. “you mean where are WE going” he threw marks slides at his head.

“we’re gonna go see what you can do.”

mark and haechan went out to a abandoned parking lot. haechan was good at making something out of nothing figuratively and quite literally. “okay mark pick up that big ass tire over there” mark walked over to it, absentmindedly picking it up “this one?”

haechan pulled a clipboard out his backpack “okay superstrength...check”

after many trials and errors. mark and donghyuck found out that he was very agile, very fast, and very sticky. mark couldn’t go 3 seconds with out sticking to something.

as mark and haechan were walking back to the dorms, mark heard something his ears turned up as he looked around. “do you hear that?” mark pulled his hoodie up and walked a bit faster. “no what do you hear? is everything oka—“ mark took off running in the opposite direction past the parking lot, leaving his backpack and a confused Lee Donghyuck behind him.

mark turned the corner the feeling that was rushing through his body, it was more than adrenaline it was like an itch that so desperately needed to be scratched. he had to find out what that noise was. he found himself in the subway again. the same place his was now 24 hours ago. his head was now spinning the same place he was bitten now stinging more than ever.

his balance was off and his body felt weak. mark blinked harshly, the itch slowly fading away. but everything was fading away he slipped into darkness, passing out on the grimy new york subway floor.

“mark” a familiar voice called out to him. “yes y/n?” he responded, a swirl of neon colors surrounded him, his skin was no longer slightly tan it was neon red with some swirls of blue. he was still in the subway but it was empty. dead silent his own thoughts, and spiders the only things in the station. you were in the form a beautiful pink tarantula crawling all over marks body.

“you know what you have to do right?”

“what do i have to do?”

“save new york” you brushed against his cheek lovingly “save our friends, save me, and most of all” you had somehow reappeared in front of him crawling down from her own line of webs. “save yourself.”

“how do i do that?”

“22nd street my love”

mark heard that laugh he always loved to hear, then a sharp pain in his arm again.

“FUCK” he yelled when he woke up, surprised to see that it wasn’t the “pink tarantula” that hit him, but an IV going into the underside of his wrist.

“calm down mr.lee it’s okay, you had quite a scare there” a nurse rubbed his forehead “anything i can get you? some water? some juice you had a pretty bad panic attack there”

mark sighed

‘how am i supposed to save new york with anxiety?’

☀︎☂︎☀︎☂︎

“hyuck” mark said as they walked home from the hospital. “yeah?” he responded taking one of his headphones out his ear. “have you ever been to 22nd street?” haechan shrugged “yeah i’ve been by there, it’s nothing but some apartments...why?”

“i think we have to go there”

that piqued haechan interest, not in a good way though. “you’re not tired i mean...i know you have super stamina but you just had such a bad anxiety attack you passed out” he blinked “i don’t see how you’re not exhausted, fuck— even IM exhausted” mark shrugged and walked in the other direction in hopes to catch a bus, “you coming?”

“so am i like your agent or something” haechan said smacking on the lunchable from his backpack loudly, so loud that mark couldn’t even hear himself think. between the homeless people, the bucket drum line, haechan obnoxious chewing, mark couldn’t hear himself think. “OKAY JUST SHUT UP” he snapped, all attention on him. “oh— uh not you guys i—“ mark quickly became flustered looking at haechan for some help. “OH— uhhh, my friend here has a disorder. sorry about that” haechan rubbed mark on the back, watching as heads turned back to what the were doing. “thank god” mark sighed in relief as they reached their stop. “i feel something...” the same ringing in his ears was back, becoming quieter as he walked in different directions dragging haechan in zigzags along with him

finally, mark and haechan arrived at their “destination”. all it appeared to be was just a regular apartment building. “what the fuck?” mark huffed slamming his fists aganist the wall, accidentally triggering something.

the small alley way they were in between revealed a door, the two boys looked at each other in pure amazement as they jumped through. “what is this?” mark said in awe staring down the walls. “don’t touch anything” an older man said swatting his hand away “you’re the new guy?” he looked mark up and down “the standards must be in hell”

“hi nice to meet you too!” mark sarcastically said. “i didn’t ask.” the man simply replied. “follow me though.” the boys did as they were told. “i believe that we were all put on this earth for one reason, to wreck havoc and help when havoc wrecks things” the older man laughed at his own terrible joke. “that’s why some people their genetic code is different, they’re products of some very expensive experiments, and my favorite” he chuckled “wrong place right time”

“so where do i fall?” mark wondered out loud. “the third one sweetheart” the older man bent down into a mini fridge and got out something to drink. “so basically what i’m saying kid.” he slurped it loudly in marks ears “help when havoc wrecks, whenever it does”with the snap of fingers, haechan and mark were back home and mark was dressed in a red and blue spandax suit. a black spider embroidered on the chest. “bro? you look—“ mark raised a brow, thinking he was still in his regular clothes. “you look like an actual superhero!” haechan danced around the room. “i do?” he stepped infront of the mirror “oh— I DO”

“what should i call myself. tarantula boy?—no too weird spider boy? no too immature”

“spider-man” haechan suggested

“spider-man...” mark said to himself in the mirror.

“i guess i’m spider man...”

[steviespanties]

Special Treats For Good Cat Boys on AO3 for full tags. 2.6k, Rated E. Unapologetic smutty fluff with a chubby catboy!Steve in panties, pregnancy kink (without mpreg) and a very successful Valentine’s Day date night~ Fitting for the @harringroveheart-on prompts Lingerie, Champagne and Date Night and a belated b-day present for @rvspberryjvm 😊💗💗

It’s the second week of snow coming down on the city, covering houses and streets in sheets of white over and over again until all sound is muffled when Steve walks outside. Even with his sharp hearing, face wrapped in his favorite scarf, he has to strain his ears to not get surprised by people coming around corners.

Icy wind bites into his cheeks and once again he’s grateful for the incredibly fluffy knit hat Robin sent him for Christmas. It’s got holes for his ears to poke out in perfectly placed spots- something Billy sneakily helped figure out for her, she’d admitted on the phone.

“Good thing I convinced you to buy the more expensive winter coat, huh?” Next to him, wrapped in said coat, a blood red scarf, his hat and mittens, Billy looks a lot less grumpy when he doesn’t have to complain about freezing his ass off. Steve snickers at the glare thrown in his direction.

“How could I’ve known that winter in Michigan is even worse than Indiana?”

Steve laughs. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe someone tried to warn you in advance and you turned deaf all of a sudden?” He gets an adorable pout in response that Billy will deny up and down ever showing. He wants to reach out and kiss the corner of Billy’s pouty lips till he can’t help but react with a grin.

Bags full of groceries swing between them as they bicker back and forth. At a street crossing Billy reaches out and carefully brushes snow off Steve’s ear. He smiles back in thanks.

Steve’s ears have become extra fluffy this winter, with a thick undercoat that keeps the snow from melting and seeping into his skin. It’s like his body knew it had to prepare for the more serious cold. Billy can’t keep his hands from petting the new softness of Steve’s fur, taking every opportunity to brush his equally floofed up tail and give him head scratches. Steve’s started to feel very spoiled lately.

They arrive home to a warm apartment and close the door with relieved groans behind them, both glad to have escaped the cold. As they peel off their many layers of clothes, Steve sneaks a glance at Billy. He looks so beautiful when he’s flushed, his tan faded, but his freckles even more visible due to the winter sun. It’s not like Billy isn’t aware that he’s beautiful. Despite getting a bit soft around the middle, he’s still proud of maintaining his muscles. Gives himself finger guns and winks at the mirror when he’s all primped. But he’s also pretty. Long lashes and soft lips, a shimmery fuzz of golden hair on his body that Steve constantly wants to rub himself against. In the dark grey henley he reveals under his coat, he looks effortlessly stunning.

Of course, he catches Steve staring and throws him a smug grin.

“Ready for some food?” Steve nods and grabs his share of grocery bags to follow Billy into the kitchen.

“Starving,” he says. As they unpack, their limited counter space soon overflows with the clutter of their united assembly of their dinner: A spread of baguette slices with cream cheese, topped with caviar or smoked salmon. Cucumber salad, dark grapes and strawberries. Sliced-open croissants stuffed with bacon and scrambled eggs. Ice cream waiting in the freezer. And, of course, two bottles of champagne, already cooled in the fridge and now fizzing enchantingly in two glasses. Steve’s tail swishes excitedly at the mouth-watering smells and it takes a lot of self control not to sneak a bite. Still, Billy seems to have a sixth sense for Steve getting too riled up, because soon enough he bumps their shoulders together. “Why don’t you go ahead and get settled. Put on some music for us while I clean up.”

Steve bumps right back into him. Enjoys the way Billy barely even moves, unbothered and rooted firmly in place. “That sounds good. Thanks.” He can’t resist placing at least a quick kiss to Billy’s shoulder. This close, he can catch a good whiff of Billy’s scent, warm and a little woody because of his perfume. Billy playfully swats at him, which Steve evades in a fluid motion and a with laugh before he slips into the living room.

They’ve spent all afternoon working on a blanket fort that looks even more cozy and inviting than when they left to go grocery shopping. All the lights in the room are covered in red cloth, bathing the place in muted, warm light. Where their sofa usually stands, they’ve turned the entire thing around, thrown a futon in front and surrounded it with pillows and cushions. The cushy interior is flanked by chairs they’ve thrown a massive white sheet on top on, which trails over the back of the sofa and is illuminated by fairy lights on the inside. The mountain of blankets Steve insisted on adding might be a bit overkill, but his stomach gets all fluttery with elation when he looks at it. Like they’ve built their own little nest that calls for him to curl up between soft blankets where he can wait for Billy to join him.

So he hastily selects something sappy to softly play in the background: A REO Speedwagon album that Billy would never admit to liking, but that he has also never protested listening to when Steve's put it on or insisted on turning off either. Steve slips out of his pants, places them behind a cushion where he’s also snuck a bottle of lube and then quickly dives under a blanket when he hears Billy’s approaching footsteps.

“Hey there, kitty cat.” Billy comes into view holding a whole tray with their food, cleverly arranged so he can carry everything in one trip while an ice bucket with their champagne bottles dangles on his arm.

“Here, let me get that.” Steve leans up, careful not to let the blanket slip to reveal his surprise. He takes the tray off Billy’s hands and carefully lowers it to the ground. No snacks directly in the blanket fort if they want to sleep in here tonight. Billy huffs as he puts the bucket down. Lifts his head to make eye contact with Steve, just long enough to notice the mischievous glint in his eyes- and then he leaps forward with a whoop.

Steve yelps at a sudden armful of heavy, cackling boyfriend on top of him. Billy's happiness is infectious and he quickly feels himself join in on the laughter. It's Billy's turn to kiss him, just a lightning-fast peck on the lips that makes Steve wish he'd linger just a bit longer.

They share their first glasses of champagne that tingles on Steve’s sensitive tongue, making him chase its lightness into Billy’s slick mouth. There’s the explosion of briny, salty caviar and mild cream cheese in Steve’s mouth, more sips of champagne followed by cool, smoked salmon. The sensation of the tips of Billy’s fingers against his lips when he feeds him a bite. Holding a strawberry against Billy's lips in turn, he's enthralled by watching sharp teeth pierce the red flesh. Each sip of champagne slips down his throat easily, a perfect, decadent balance to all the different flavors that have danced over his tongue- none quite as addictive as the taste of Billy, though.

And suddenly, their tray is shoved to the side. Shirts are thrown off and Billy’s pants shoved down. The second champagne bottle is halfway empty and Steve’s belly is pleasantly full and warm in satisfaction, making him wriggle in satisfaction. Next to him, Billy inches closer. Crowds into his space until Steve leans back into soft pillows, ears standing up at attention. There’s a different kind of hunger in his eyes, now.

“I got a surprise for you,” he confesses in a hushed voice and slips the blanket down to reveal his present.

“Is that for me?” Billy’s words are smooth whiskey. Sweet and sharp and running over Steve’s body in an intoxicating caress that makes him squirm in place and his tail swish in gleeful anticipation. Billy’s hands close around his soft hips and tug him closer. Thumbs dig into the recently added softness of Steve’s tummy, all plumped up for the winter. He really feels like a spoiled and pampered housecat now, all drunk on treats and alcohol and skin contact.

Billy’s eyes are dark with want when his gaze catches on soft pink lace panties that finally show in all their glory when he fully slips the blanket off.

“You take such good care of me,” Steve says quietly. He wraps his arms around Billy to pull him in and feels a thrill run through him when Billy’s erection brushes against his leg. Clearly, the surprise is a success. “I figured this would be a nice gift.” A tender kiss to his neck.

With a teasing smirk, Billy looks down at the panties. “Oh, I’m very happy.” He snaps the waistband against Steve’s side, making a shocked mew slip out at the sting and his dick respond with a twitch. “But don’t pretend you’re being all altruistic here, babe.” A finger runs over the rapidly hardening outline of his dick and comes to rest right at the head. He pushes down, enough to give a tiny drop of pressure that makes Steve writhe in place, unable to open his mouth and ask for more. There’s just Billy’s warm hand on his hip and that unrelenting point of not-enough-contact. Steve moans.

“Ah, so- so what, not like we can’t both enjoy me dressing up for you!” For a moment, the pressure lets up.

An agreeable hum. “True. You sure enjoy being my pretty boy, though, huh?” And the pressure is back again, just at the sensitive underside of the head of Steve’s dick. That place is like a switch where he’s quickly set on fire just by Billy’s fingers and knowing eyes drinking him up. A small wet spot starts to form where a splash of precome gets trapped between his dick and the fabric of his panties.

“Yeah,” Steve admits as he rolls his hips up. Seeks the pressure and attention as another drop of precome pushes out. “Would enjoy it even more if you fucked me.” That gets him a small laugh.

“Someone’s been getting too spoiled.” Billy sounds positively delighted at Steve’s whining. He can’t help it! He’s spent most of the day opening himself up as sneakily as possible whenever he could get away with it, has made himself drip with lube until his hole has felt open and tender for way too long. Especially now, with Billy hovering above him, he feels himself want a reward for putting in all this extra preparation. He blindly gropes for the lube. Smacks Billy’s hand off his dick and the bottle into his palm and then pulls the fabric of his panties to the side to reveal his twitching, loose hole.

The frown he throws at Billy’s wide-eyed expression might be more of a pout than an intimidating glare. At least there's no protest from Billy, just a determined set to his jaw as he slicks up his fingers in a practiced motion. He shifts from confusion to palpable excitement when first one, then two fingers sink inside Steve with almost no resistance.

“Oh baby,” he croons and leans even further into Steve’s space. Kisses him slow and deep as he presses his fingers in and out in a pleasant drag that finally comes close to what Steve’s been craving all day. He grabs Billy’s arms and luxuriates in the indulgent slide of their tongues against each other and the sting of Billy’s teeth at his lip. He undulates his hips to meet Billy’s movement inside him, chasing the elusive need for more.

When they separate to breathe, he groans a desperate “Come on, I’m ready” into Billy’s ear. No matter how much of a hardass Billy likes to think he is, the strung-out tone of Steve’s voice never fails to give him a palpable full-body shudder that Steve triumphantly notices.

“Fuck, fine.” Billy looks flushed, all gold and pink and glowing in the soft light surrounding them.

The panties are stretched taut over Steve’s dick. Divine, almost too much pressure that makes him squirm as he watches Billy slick himself up. Being trapped drives him a little crazy and makes it impossible to fully hold still, even as Billy clearly tries to go slow while he savoring the sight of Steve all laid out in front of him. He doesn’t want to wait anymore till Billy finally decides they’re ready and shoves his hips down. Pops the thick cockhead inside and makes them both moan at the way Steve hole flutters around it.

“You’re so goddamn hungry for my cock, huh?” Billy thrusts deeper, clearly losing composure. “Pretty princess gagging to be filled up.” Steve helplessly moans as heat pools at the base of his spine and in his belly. He desperately meets Billy’s hips and lets out a long, drawn-out whine. “Bet you can’t wait to get pumped full to carry a whole litter of kittens for me.”

It’s like Billy has found the string he needed to tug on to open the floodgates to fill Steve with an overwhelming, fierce need. To open himself up even more for Billy to claim him inside and out, deeper even than Billy’s cock thrusting into him where it drags at his insides. “Billy,” he sobs, barely coherent, and clings to his back. Digs his fingers into skin and feels strong back muscles shift underneath his hands.

A rising pressure of something primal, inexplicable pulses through him. He drinks in the sensations- of Billy’s body heat and sweat-slick skin rubbing against Steve’s. Billy’s scent that makes Steve salivate for a taste of him. His hair falls down in soft, wavy strands that frame his face and tickle Steve's skin gently. A hand lands on his soft belly, above his trapped dick steadily pulsing hot precome into tight fabric. Billy's claiming where he’s warm and soft and still desperate for more of his touch.

“Or maybe,” Billy breathes against his ear, makes his breath ghost over the sensitive fur. His hand presses down a little harder. “Maybe you’re already carrying.”

He can’t breathe. He’s blinded by the fireworks going off behind his eyelids, unable to keep them open any longer.

There’s just Billy. Inside and out. And the thought of Steve's belly, carrying a small piece of both of them.

It’s too much. He comes, orgasm rolling over him relentlessly. He cries. Scratches at Billy’s back and pushes himself into Billy’s hand, consumed by his cock spreading him wide open, lost in the thought of more. His panties are filled with pulse after pulse of warm, sticky come, trapped mess turning into a feedback loop of shivery, delightful aftershocks.

There’s the most feather-light kisses on his eyelids. Billy’s thrusts slow to an intense, shuddering grind as he empties himself deep into Steve, all satisfied moans and grunts. Finally, there’s air in Steve's lungs again. He fills his nose with deep inhales of their satisfied scents all mixed together.

They rest. Clean up a little. Put on The Breakfast Club while they wrap around each other as they trade kisses and sips of leftover Champagne. Steve’s tail is curled around the arm Billy has thrown over his hips and he purrs in sleepy contentment while his ears are being pet. “You’re gonna be such a good parent” Billy teases at some point and earns himself a light smack to the shoulder that makes him hiss in mock-hurt. Steve places a kiss where he hit to ease the light sting anyways.

[mrsalwayswrite]

It’s Always Been You (Eugene Roe x f!Reader)

I have mixed feelings about this piece. But who doesn’t love Soft Roe?

Warnings: couple swear words but PURE FLUFFY FLUFF

Words: 2700

Tag List: @happyveday​ @saritanotserena​ @sydney-m​ @evelynshelby​

  I stood in front of the mirror, unable to believe the person looking back was actually me. I brushed my hands down the front of the gown, enjoying its smooth, silky texture. Such a contrast to the stiff, dirty ODs I had become accustomed to. Light makeup on my face, something I had not indulged in for years. I looked… dare I say… beautiful. Even as I witnessed myself dress up in the mirror, I doubted my own reflection. It felt like I was someone else. Today, though, that was what I wanted.  

 It was a Sunday and everyone was still celebrating being in Zell Am See. We had thought Germany was beautiful but it had nothing on Austria.

 In his pilfering, Captain Speirs had found an abandoned, wealthy home that he thought I might enjoy. He purposefully pulled me aside and told me to investigate the master bedroom before anyone else got to it. At my questioning look, he just gave a wink and said he would stand guard until I was done. Without another word, he lit a cigarette and rummaged through his newest acquisitions. 

 Intrigued and still confused, since everyone knew I did not care much about finding treasures, I wandered into the home and up the grand stairwell until I finally reached the master bedroom. My jaw dropped when I saw what he was referring to and purposefully left for me. I owed him a huge bottle of liquor after this. Whoever the wife was that lived here had expensive taste. There were racks of beautiful gowns and dresses, ranging from whimsical day dresses to breath-taking evening gowns. I spent about an hour just touching all the beautiful gowns, in awe that clothing like this was even real. Even the heels and few pieces of jewelry left behind boggled my mind in their quality. It was a fairytale. It had to be.  

 So, I had decided while all the men were continuing to get drunk, blow things up and joy ride…. I was going to embrace my femininity. Something I had not enjoyed since Albourne, so long ago. 

 Now here I stood, having spent entirely too long getting ready for some kind of elegant ball. The gown I commandeered was an emerald green color, making me feel like I was wearing a gemstone, with wide straps but left my arms bare and dipped low in the back. The red lipstick I found made my lips pop in the bright light of the bathroom. My favorite thing was the small gold chain necklace I discovered half hiding under a dresser, as if dropped and forgotten by whoever was leaving quickly. I wondered if in another life this could have been me regularly, attending socialite functions and dressing up like a princess. Instead I was used to dirt and blood marring my skin, ill-fitting ODs and a helmet that constantly slipped over my eyes. 

 For this moment, just for tonight… I could pretend otherwise. Pretend I was someone important, someone elegant. 

 When I finally stepped out of the wealthy house, Speirs took one look at the gown draped over my arm and the pair of black heels dangling from my hand, and suggested I use the officer's house to get ready in. 

 Taking a deep breath, I took one last look at myself in the mirror. If only my family could see me now, I thought. I slipped on the heels and walked out of the bathroom, the gown trailing lightly behind me. 

 Tonight was about me. Doing something special for me. To remind myself I was more than just a soldier, more than the scars I now bore from our time in combat. That I had not completely lost myself to war and its carnage. Beauty could still be found in the little things...the stolen moments. Like a stunning gown and red lipstick. 

 I could hear the officers downstairs, talking about something, followed by a sharp bark of laughter from Nixon. Before I disappeared into the upstairs bathroom, I had told them I was going to watch the sunset by the lake and if I came back after dark to not worry about me. 

 Being extra careful in the gown, I descended the stairs. One foot at a time. One nervous breath at a time. Beyond aware of how different I looked. 

 As I stepped into view of those lounging around, most playing poker at a table in the middle of the room, silence struck. I could feel their eyes land heavily on me. 

 "Holy shit." Nixon said, mouth dropped open. 

 I stepped down the last two steps, brushing down my gown to smooth out the nonexistent wrinkles. I tried to tease, their amazed looks making me uncomfortable. "I swear, it's like you guys have forgotten I am in fact a woman."

 "Uh huh. Can't forget that right now." Nixon took a sip of his drink in hand. 

 Harry asked, a smirk on his face as tapped his cards against the table. "Where you going dressed like that?"

 "Going to watch the sunset." I reminded them. 

 "Dressed like that?!" Nixon sputtered then narrowed his eyes at me. "Looks like you're planning on meeting someone."

 "Does a woman have to dress up only for a man?" Before anyone could answer, I pointed a finger at the officers. "The correct answer is no. I can dress up for myself. I'll be back in a while." 

 "Y/n?"

 I looked at Winters, surprised to see him sitting in an armchair near the fireplace reading while the other officers were playing cards. "Sir?"

 "You look beautiful."

 "Thank you, sir." I smiled at Winters, receiving a soft one in return.

 "You got a weapon on you?" Speirs asked around a cigarette between his lips. 

 "Maybe." 

 He froze, then slowly pulled the cigarette out and started to rise from his seat. 

 "Christ! Yes! I've got my knife! Anything else, dad, or can I go now?"

 "Be smart, don't stay out too late or talk to any boys." He deadpanned, shuffling the cards in his hand. The gleam in his eyes let me know he was just teasing, but would also have no qualms stabbing anyone who bothered me. 

 Amidst the others chuckling, I groaned. "I'm leaving now."

 Quickly, I walked out before anyone could try and convince me to stay or worse- go change. 

 Thankfully, even in the fading daylight, the air was still somewhat warm where I did not need a shawl. I could hear some faint cheers from the enlisted men but I slipped behind the rows of houses and headed down the lakeside path. I walked towards my favorite spot overlooking the lake. Colors danced upon the water, making it appear as if on fire. A few ambitious stars peeked out from above in the sky painted by angels. Never before would I have imagined finding myself somewhere so absolutely gorgeous. If heaven was real, I hoped it looked like Austria. 

 Standing there, I found myself humming and gently swaying to a Billie Holiday song. My arms wrapped around myself loosely, I tried to soak in everything. I wanted to remember this moment forever, to create new memories to replace the bad ones. The nightmares. 

 "Blue moon you saw me standing alone

Without a dream in my heart

Without a love of my own…"

 "Y/n?"

 I turned to look over my shoulder, not expecting anyone else around. The voice was a dead giveaway but I was shocked our Cajun medic was down this way. "Hey, Gene."

 He stood several paces from me; his medic satchel, that he never went anywhere without, hanging off his side. He stared at me for a long moment, eyes dancing over me in a way that made me self-conscious of how much skin showed. Suddenly, he blinked rapidly as if waking from a dream. "What…" he cleared his throat, "what are you doin' here?"

 "Watching the sunset." I glanced over my shoulder at the lake then looked back at him. 

 "Mmm...dressed like you should be in the pictures?"

 I laughed, even as I felt my face warming. I ran my hands over the gown, still in awe that I was wearing something so expensive. For the most part of the past 4 years, I had been caked in grime and sweat; even though my skin was clean now, I felt too dirty to wear something so fine. 

 "I've never worn anything like this. I just...wanted to do something...for myself."

 "Mmm… well, I'll leave you be. Goodnight." With a single nod, he hesitated then turned around, beginning to walk up the path back to the houses. 

 "You know…" I said loudly, watching his feet still as he turned back around to look at me. "It would be a shame to be dressed up and not able to dance."

 He ducked his head slightly, a bashful smile on his face. I could see the uncertainty on his face. The desire to dance, to hold me close but also the concern for crossing that unspoken line separating us. For two years we had been tiptoeing around our growing feelings. Both aware but never acknowledging. It was in the secret looks, the subtle soft touches, the constant desire to seek one another out amongst a crowd, the solace our presence created when together. The knowledge hung there between us, with one slip we would both fall headlong over that cliff. So we kept back, together as friends but separate as lovers, even if we could read the desire in one another's eyes. It was safer this way. 

 Until now. 

 Without a word, he slowly approached me, as if waiting for me to change my mind, to tell him no, to maintain our status quo. My lips only turned up in a smile as he drew closer, encouraging him, telling him I wanted this. He dropped his satchel carefully on the ground. Our eyes locked, both aware of how this moment could change everything we had built. Carefully, he reached forward and clasped my hand, pulling me into his body. My lips parted on a quiet gasp, feeling his warm breath span across my face, his hand holding mine… and for once, neither one of us was covered in the blood of a fellow paratrooper. I lifted my hand to his shoulder, the muscles tensing underneath my palm. When he made no further movement, I grabbed his other hand and placed it on my waist. For a moment I thought he would reject this, to walk away as he seemed to stay frozen. Then with the softest whisper of my name, as if that was the key to unlock this moment, he pulled me even closer and took the lead. 

 In the stolen evening gown I found and Gene in his ODs, we danced. Like there was no war to haunt us. No rules against fraternizing. No fear of the future that lay before us. It was just him and I, in this moment of beauty and joy and life. We danced. He led me in a simple box step. Our pounding heartbeats, the fluttering of my gown and the soothing sound of the lake lapping on its shore, the only soundtrack we needed. 

 "You are beautiful."

 My face heated up at the compliment. "It's the dress and lipstick."

 "Non, mon chérie." He drawled in that perfect accent and tipped my face back to meet his soft gaze. "It's you. It's always been you."

 I stared into his soulful eyes, a new burning in them. Where once it had only been a candle trying desperately to beat back the darkness; now a bonfire replaced it. Something darkness knew it could never defeat. This man who held me so tenderly, like I was some kind of priceless gem, who had seen the brutality and horrors of war but still kept going, still trying his hardest to save his men even when others would have given up. He was beautiful, both inside and out. 

 "You need to stop lookin' at me like." He whispered; eyes glued to mine. 

 It was when he spoke, I realized we were no longer dancing. When had we stopped? Our bodies were still pressed together, our fingers now entwined but our feet rooted to the path. The air between us felt anything but still. An ardent intensity hovered between us, binding us to the moment, preventing us from escaping it. The sounds around us disappeared. All I could see, all I could feel and sense and taste… was him. 

 "Why?" I asked, my voice breathy. 

 "I might be tempted to mess up your lipstick."

 A nervous giggle escaped me. Instead of dispelling the profound moment, it only seemed to enhance it. With deliberate slowness, I moved my hand on his shoulder to the back of his neck. "I wouldn't mind."

 His hand moved to cup my cheek, holding me still as he leaned in. His lips ghosted over mine, the sweetest of sensations. It sent sparks shooting through me. After he leaned back just out of lips reach. Our eyes met once again, our breathing quickening even from the faint touch. As if our bodies were synced, I rose up at the same time he leaned forward. This time when our lips met, it was with a kiss long overdue. Our lips molded to one another, basking in the taste of the other. Both my hands slipped to the nape of his neck. His hand on my cheek drifted to the back of my head, keeping me from moving away. His other hand slid to my lower back, drawing me closer… and closer.

 The kiss deepened, pulling long dormant feelings from both of us, now finally exposed without reprimand. In the midst, his hand snaked up my side to brush a thumb over the underside of my breast. At the sensation, I gasped in the kiss, surprised by his forwardness. Surprised by the pure wanton need it shot through me. As my lips parted in the gasp, his tongue thrust into my mouth like he owned it. As if he needed more of my taste. Needed more of me. As if a simple kiss would never be enough. Not to him. He quickly drew my own tongue in a dance that soon left my knees weak and wobbling. I found myself clinging to him, not just in desire, but also to keep me upright, else I melted into a puddle of sheer bliss. 

 All too soon, we were forced apart by our lungs screaming for air. He pressed his forehead to mind, his hand still skimming my side from my hip to the underside of my breast and back down. 

 "It’s you. It’s always been you." He whispered as if finally able to confide his deepest secret. The words spilling forth like water out of cracks in a dam, held back for too long. "Since I first talked to you in Toccoa about tryin' to sneak a laxative into Sobel's coffee. And in Bastogne… you were always there for me. Checkin' on me. Makin' sure I knew I wasn't alone. But we're in a goddamn war and I couldn't say nothin'. Seein' you standin' out here, lookin' like an angel, I just...I had to…"

 I pressed a finger to those kiss-swollen lips of his, silencing the onslaught of secrets. "Gene, I'm going to need you to stop talking and kiss me again."

 He smirked, nuzzling my neck for a second. When he spoke, I could feel his hot breath and lips against my skin. "Yes, ma'am."

 This time there was no hesitation, no wavering in dilemma. Our lips touched and it felt like it was meant to be. No great fireworks in the night sky, no great orchestra announcing our love. It felt more like two puzzles pieces finally fitting together. Like the sun peeking through on a cloudy day. It was perfect. 

 When we broke apart again, I felt delirious with joy and the look on his face said something similar. I laid my head on his chest, his arms wrapping around my waist. Bodies pressed against one another, molded together like clay. Without a word, we began swaying. The soundtrack of our shared heartbeats and the lake's waves drowning out anything else. 

 Nothing in the world had changed. We were still paratroopers occupying Austria. Men were still dying. The war was still going strong in the Pacific. Evil endured. 

 But in this moment, in our own little world. 

 Everything changed.