#its lucky ice found them so endearing

[unlawfulchaos]

Maverick, trying to flirt: My dick is like life... Life is hard.

Iceman, blankly: Life is also short.

Maverick: Listen here, you annoyingly sexy son of a bitch-

Iceman, trying to contain his upset: You should know that my mother is an incredibly kind, respected, and well loved woman.

Maverick: I meant your father?

Iceman: ...

Iceman: Continue.

[leonw4nter]

She’s Everything and He’s… He’s There Too I Guess

Hockeyplayer!RE2R!Leon x Figureskater!Reader

“Those damned hockey players…”, you quietly hiss to yourself as you skate off to the side. You had almost fallen down and cracked your head open as there was a crater in the ice, left behind by those rowdy hockey players who used the arena before you did. You usually used the arena before the players could since the ice was at its best but because you ran late, you ended up with deformed ice. You stayed at the side a little more, checking your skates and looking around for some more craters so you wouldn’t embarrass yourself in front of the hockey team flail embarrassingly and land face-first. Besides palms that had a slight dull ache to them, you were lucky you didn’t fall hard and end up with a serious injury. “Sorry for uh– the ice,” a voice piped up behind you. You turn around and the first thing your gaze falls on is a pair of irises that are a hue of a midwinter sky. “I’m apologizing on behalf of my team. Do you, um… need any help…?,” he shyly asks. This guy looks new, might be a rookie since you haven’t seen a blonde-haired, rosy cheeked, baby-faced athlete that contrasts the rugged, brunette guys with faint stubbles. His blond hair is slightly tousled, the tips of his ears pink. “No, it’s fine– I’m fine,” you respond with a small nod. He looks at the rink before he asks if you're sure, genuine concern flashing in his eyes before you respond that you’re really sure, shooting him a small smile. He eventually turns around to get back to his team but not before he looks back once or twice. “Kennedy”, the back of his navy blue jersey reads. He’s cute; polite too. ──────────────────────────────────────────────────────

That’s how your friendship started out with the shy, good-souled starting goalie whose name is Leon. He’s looked out for you whenever you skated and offered moral support when he wasn’t training, shooting you a thumbs up and that adorably goofy smile of his. Whenever you’d blow him an air kiss mid-spin, he’d divert his gaze elsewhere as his cheeks and the tip of his ears redden up; his teammates would tease him too, which you found endearing. After your first interaction with Leon, you noticed that the team would usually arrive earlier than they normally do (and shoot Leon teasing grins and looks). They watch you skate to pass the time, some of them complimenting your moves as you leave the ice and they take their respective posts; all the players easily tossed compliments, except for Leon. “You um… you l-looked good out there–”, he would quickly mumble.

“Leon we’re literally friends, how are you still so shy?,” you would say with a bright smile. He often stuttered or rushed whatever he had to say, though you would usually giggle and softly offer a ‘thank you’ whilst he said his ‘no problem’ or ‘your welcome’. You give him a small pat to the arm before moving to the seat where you placed your bag and you swear you could hear Chris, Leon’s teammate, tease Leon and say ‘your girl’ or something close to that. Back then, you would immediately freshen up and get going after practice but after making friends with Leon, you’d stay at the arena to cheer and watch him play just like he does with you.“Good luck!,” you exclaim before they start a practice game. Leon shoots you that hundred-watt smile before pulling his helmet down, getting his game-face on. A giddy sizzle of electricity runs up and down your spine, making you feel all warmly odd and fuzzy. A smile curls the tip of your lips upward, bringing your head down to release a small chuckle. Goddamn Leon, you’re making the ice princess feel awfully warm.

“Give it your all Kennedy; your girlfriend’s watching you!,” Chris yells in an awfully happy voice.

“Shut up man, she’s not my girlfriend!,” Leon yells back, silently thankful for the fact that his helmet is hiding the beet-red flush of his cheeks. After some time, the practice game finally ended. You got up from your seat to bid Leon and the guys goodbye before you finally left.

“Bye guys, bye Leon!,” you say with a small wave. All the guys said bye in unison, with Leon’s own response being slightly delayed since he was ruffling his silvery blond hair.

“Bro got his own special goodbye greeting,” Chris says to no one in particular. The other guys turn their heads to give Leon a knowing look along with a teasing snicker, prompting Leon to shyly mumble a “shut up” even though no one really said anything besides Chris.

This is your routine for the next 5 months. You and Leon have managed to grow closer too– now going on hangouts, lunch runs, and sometimes teaching each other basic moves from your respective sports. You also noticed that Leon seemed to be a little more awkward around you, unable to maintain eye contact when doing something as simple as talking and choosing to focus on other parts of your face like your cheeks and occasionally your lips too. There was an instance, about a month ago, where you both were watching His Girl Friday. Leon was saying the lines at the same time as Cary Grant’s character was, seemingly familiar with the film. He kept spilling facts about the movie, obviously very enthused. You know some facts too, but not as in-depth as him. His eyes twinkled with interest, his legs bouncing with enthusiasm whenever a scene he liked came on. Though he never looked you straight in the eye for no more than seven seconds, you would often catch him stealing a glance when he thought you weren’t looking. You feel him shift on the couch so you turn to look at him but you’re instead met with a piercing gaze. Odd. He inches a little closer, his gaze unsure whether to focus on your eyes or… lips. Heart pounding like a jackhammer in your chest and mind fading into nothing, you did what you thought was the most un-awkward thing at the moment: share a piece of trivia.

“Um– Howard Hawks and Charles Lederer also worked on Gentlemen Prefer Blondes,” you swiftly say, causing the words to sound a little mashed together.

“I know,” he simply says. There’s a rasp in his voice, his gaze fixed on your eyes now. Slowly, he closes the gap and you follow him too but he stops and pulls back at the last minute. “Nevermind,” he murmurs before turning his attention back on the screen. You sit there, frozen still and trying to process what happened. “Did he just try to kiss me,” you silently think to yourself. You clear your throat and adjust your position, trying to get your focus back on the movie but all you can really think about was that moment. “If I could travel back in time, Cary Grant is one of the people I’d like to meet,” he suddenly says. He turns to you, that goofy grin on his mouth again; he’s acting as if that moment mere seconds ago never happened. Maybe I’m just overthinking this.

Instances like this keep happening for a month or so; he leans in close, you keep thinking that this is it, he pulls away saying “nevermind” or “nothing”. Leon always wore his heart on his sleeve: he spoke what he truly felt so keeping something secret was definitely uncharacteristic but not too odd. He did start being more affectionate though: buying you flowers, getting you food, and even buying you random stuff (like a leg warmer that you had told him was cute once). He even began holding your hand or giving you hugs, which made you feel special but that feeling went down the drain when you saw him hug Chris’ sister Claire. All this was confusing you, since you liked him too and you wanted to know if this was a one-sided thing with all the signals thrown around. This time, you were determined to get your assumptions about his feelings straight so you wouldn’t be all the more confused and possibly misled. Jill, a friend of Claire's, arranged an outdoor ice skating get-together. Claire invited Chris, who in turn invited Leon and then invited you. For the next two hours, the four of you spent the time skating around. Jill and Claire needed help maintaining their balance so the three of you had to stay around them so they wouldn’t fall and possibly injure themselves. Since there weren’t so many people in the rink, Leon and Chris got to race each other whilst you got to do your jumps and spins. Not too long after, it was down to you and Leon doing the skating. “This is it. Showtime,” you thought to yourself. Catching up to Leon, you decided to pop the question.

“Soo… are you into Claire? Or Jill?,” you asked innocently.

“Huh– Um, no–,” Leon responded. Flustered, the tips of his ears reddened.

“C’mon. Just tell me so I can maybe play matchmaker and set you up with either of them,” you coax. You masked your own personal feelings for him by using this method. Although it stung slightly, you can’t force him to like you so the most you can do for him is to help him out regarding matters of the heart.

“I mean… they’re kind and beautiful and overall great people but they’re just not, you know… they’re not my type,” he shyly responds.

“Okay… then who’s your type?”

“You.”

You stop pushing your feet and just slide across the ice, staring into Leon’s face with a puzzled expression. “Did I hear that right?”

“Yeah, you did,” Leon quietly says. Looking back at the others, he sees that they’re sitting down and having a chat over some hot chocolate in a thermos so he takes this chance to finally speak.

“Y’know, when I went up to you those 5 months ago and apologized about the ice, I didn’t think my decision would hit me with a vengeance. At first I thought you were pretty and good at what you do but after being friends with you, you look much more divine to me and seeing you march to the beat of your own drum and- and actually getting a look into your actual personality, I knew that I’d love you. I’d love you through my screw-ups and through yours too,” he confessed. You two were still skating but at a slower pace now. Snow was beginning to gently fall down, tiny snowflakes gliding through the frigid air. Steam softly billowed out of your mouths, both your cheeks red like apples but not as red as Leon’s.

“Claire and Jill are amazing women– they’re just like you: they’re nice, attractive, helpful– overall decent people but out of all the possible personalities in here, my favorite type is you,” he finishes. His heart is doing quadruple Axels in his chest, ready to take flight or shatter any moment now. His hands, stuffed inside his warm coat pocket, are feeling clammy and sweaty. Suddenly, he kind of regrets letting out such a long confession.

“Hey I’m s-,” you cut him off in the best way ever.

You skate in front of him, hands extending towards him. Your left hand tugs at the collar of his gray trench coat whilst your right hand travels to the back of his neck, your fingers gently digging into the back of his head and threading themselves amongst the tufts of soft hair. You draw him near, closing the gap with a tender kiss. His body tenses up, his system shutting down, and he freezes but soon regains his bearings and kisses you back. His fingers leave his pockets and situate themselves on your waist, his thumbs gently drawing circle patterns. He doesn’t ask for more, just giving and taking. His slightly chapped lips spread into a giddy smile whilst still pressed against yours; Leon could only describe this kiss as a comforting breath of the sun that could keep the winter away. You pull away reluctantly and gaze into his eyes, ink-hued pupils swallowing the icy blue of his irises.

“I love you too,” you breathlessly say with an equally giddy grin.

A surprised laugh escapes Leon’s slightly parted mouth as he hugs you, lifting you up.

“Hey lovebirds!,” Jill calls out. You two look at Jill, who is cupping her mouth with gloved hands. “We saved some hot cocoa for you both! Come while Chris’ ass isn’t chugging it yet!”.

You two look at each other again, a small chuckle escaping your lips as you guys’ eyes glimmer in the shared love being realized. Leon takes your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours. You skate over to where Chris, Jill, and Claire are waiting. Jill hands the cup to Leon but Leon politely declines, offering it to you instead which earns raised eyebrows and smirks from the three. You take a sip of the drink, a comforting warmth taking over your body like a nice warm, weighted blanket.

“Don’t you want some?,” you ask Leon.

“I have a better way of tasting it later,” Leon responds with a cheeky wink.

“I heard that!,” Chris’ loud voice booms.

NOTE - This is my first time writing and working on something like this so if you liked it then that's really great and if not then feel free to tell me what you want me to improve on! My uploading schedule isn't super definite since I write whenever I feel like it. That's it and thanks for reading :)

The dividers (the ones with the star and circle) are made by @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[zensakira]

So I wrote some notes while I was watching the miraculous movie. (I didn't intend to watch it today, I was looking for something to watch and was pleasantly surprised to see it popped up on Netflix.)

With absolutely no further context, here are my notes.

================================

That is not marinettes singing voice

Doesn't fit her

Animation is beautiful

There's no chemistry between marinette and adrien

Adriens singing voice fits better

How did fu know hawkmoth's name is hawkmoth

HE GETS A SONG????

THE MIME GUY IS NOW A CRIMINAL??

MULTIPLE AKUMAS AT ONCE?

Tom is gonna embarrass her

NO SAD TOM IS SAD ME

DID THEY JUST USE A SCREAM MEME SOUND EFFECT

Ain't no way they just said they have style

THEY INCLUDED THE VOLKSWAGEN

Where did the ice cream go

I don't see the annoyance bit

THEY DID THE KOREAN THING

WHAT

Now that is chemistry

Is ladybug flirting back what happened to I'm so annoyed

ANd yOu nEeD a piAnO foR tHat??

"you've revealed a whole new world to me

And its all thanks to you"?????

IT'S BECAUSE OF PLAGG ENTIRELY

YOU SAVE THE WORLD EVERYDAY BEHIND A MASK BUT THE GIRL BEHIND THE MASK SAVED MY HEART

UGHHHGHHB CHEESE

Hang on so canonically she likes them both at the same time and recognizes that

Adrien talking back to Gabriel,???????

Sir that someone else can't go to the ball anyway besides the ball doesn't equal a date nor does it mean you want to be together in a relationship

Is it another song

It is

Lyrics need workshopping

STOP IT ADRIEN JUST GO

Hmm a lucky charm would be nice

Does he have super speed as well

Don't worry the Eiffel tower always falls

Just lucky charm it

So what exactly is the super power he gave himself

WHAT IS THIS

THE FORCE??

I will myself to be a jedi ig

Gabriel is a star wars nerd confirmed

That scratch is the only retailiation that son will ever have over father

NOT THIS CHEESY LINE AGAIN

How did she jump so high without super powers

That jump was for nothing I guess

And.... Indestructible suits??

Oh. That's why they made his eyes white at first

  where's the lucky charm coming

Hang on is this movie almost over it felt like nothing happened

Where did all the backdrop butterflies come from

SHE'S MASSIVE

DAMN GABRIEL YOU MARRIED A GIANT

Marinette it was obviously him

CHLOE SPOTTED HELPING SABRINA UP?

Hang on I'M SORRY? Construction workers have no job I guess and also what if she missed a spot, does she only reconstruct what her eyes can see???

Wait what's the point in gardening

Creation = growth? Can you help babies grow too?

Dupin? DUPIN??? IT'S DUPAINNNNNNN

Oh it's December

Wow hawkmoth gets defeated in less than half a year instead of 8 years wait no it's only been one school year in the show as well darn

Ok Chloe has a pretty dress

It's a black mask girl what point was that gonna prove

Why he crying

How did they know to meet each other outside

Wow they don't even kiss

What is the new movie after finna be about the peacock or what

Oh it's about Emilie except she's literally dead and there's no preserving pod or anything

That's it????

================================

Some final thoughts. The animation is stunning. As an animator myself I found myself admiring the beauty of the rendering very often. So the movie did this fantastically well.

But the script overall is lacking. Watermelon is a fun joke. Flea bag is a funny new nickname. But none of their interactions sound endearing or even natural. The delivery was so flat.

I understand that there are troubles in condensing a five season show into a movie. But similar to how they adapted the lightning thief into a movie, my thoughts are the same: if you're not going to do it justice don't do it at all.

There are many bits of the movie that I love, thematically, aesthetically; tHE KOREAN MOVE that playfulness was the only thing that made me feel they had chemistry. I liked their initial meeting, stumbling into each other; but every interaction after that made ladybug- marinette (oops spoilers jk) feel like a wishy washy character who can't decide between being annoyed or insecure. And even the annoyance is just so terribly expressed, its hard to tell what's genuine and what's playful. Every eye roll is accompanied with a smirk or a smile, so it feels like she doesn't mean what she says when she tells him to stop.

Also, when chat noir first falls in love with ladybug.... It doesn't feel that impactful. Like that scene of being in awe.. What are you in awe of? Vs the show scene where he witnesses her be impossibly brave, purifying like a billion butterflies at once and then essentially declaring war on hawkmoth and pledging herself to be the hero of Paris... Like that's awe inspiring. Speaking of, what happened to the gargoyle unpurified ladybug??

I've waited so many years for this movie and the aesthetics are stunning but. The delivery is just.. The script.. Aiii. And also Fu is portrayed as this more ominious crazy old man when he's supposed to be a kind old man! Though I do like that plagg and tikki are the ones who pick their holders.

Anyways. If you're reading my live notes from the movie just know that its in chronological order. Feel free to guess exactly which moment is referring to which part of the movie.

[e-lursts]

YOU'RE JUST BEING NICE, RIGHT? — MISTY QUIGLEY

﹙a continuation of my character ai bot. just felt the need to put this out for misty appreciation! ﹚

﹙also, it's my first time actually writing some sort of story, instead of just for bots soooo, it might be pretty sucky. i'm still learning, so i'm so sorry.﹚

synopsis : misty has long named herself the school's unofficial ugly duckling. the names written on her desk, paper balls thrown at her face, and the occasional taunts from peers made her believe as much. but somehow, someone out there saw past the flaws. maybe, just maybe, she can learn the same.

warnings : mild self-hate.

𓂃  ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ classroom 🧷

A picture of the Yellowjackets in Wiskayok High School always triggered a frenzy of each member's names spoken with a hint of worship.

They were unforgettable—them with their "since birth" charm.

There were Shauna's broody, doe-like brown pearls that melted ice. Lottie, the unattainable heiress gifted with athleticism and looks. And who could forget Jackie Taylor, the magnetic leader who collected admirers, despite being off the market?

The members' days wouldn't be complete without necks snapping just to get a glimpse of their endearing features, as if they were resurrected goddesses. For Misty, oh, she'd get lucky if one compliment even swung her way.

Everyone on the team was blessed with flawless skin—something she hadn't possessed since puberty hit her skin like a truck's next roadkill.

Replace the gushing blood with crimson blemishes, flattened body with hidden, protruding bumps from layers of bacteria, tire screeches with scars, and there goes a map of her face.

Thanks to acne and its aftermath companion.

Even now, seated amongst her peers, Misty's blonde head reveled away from the lesson at hand and delved deep into dangerous territory. Unspoken thoughts manifested into her surroundings, envy peering its ugly head around the corner.

Why don't I have skin like that? Misty thought as the clear-skinned dominated the classroom. Hell, even the ones who wore bags under their eyes like badges, heads sulking a grave hole into their desks, evaded puberty's punishments like a mere puddle.

Makeup freaks, the sleep-deprived, the sugar addicts—some of them held the rare power of being unaffected by blaring red pimples. Maybe they had a force field against acne.

She longed for that.

Longed not to loathe what she saw in the mirror, not to seek a convenient eraser anytime unwanted papules found home on her skin, and not follow the fad diets dedicated to clearing her skin.

She learned those were either bullshits or she didn't try hard enough. But another important lesson?

Life was unfair—her genetics were.

If only she could carve out that pretty girl's face at the front of the room, plaster it on top of hers, maybe life would be better. Pretty privilege, was it?

"May I use the bathroom?" The voice from the back of the room snapped her out of her reverie. With you rising from your seat, hand up and all with the age-old excuse useful for disruptions, attention manifested a spotlight at you in the form of glances swinging to your direction.

And with the teacher's nod, you were on your way, doing the normalized business suited for toiletry.

At your dismissal, everyone's gaze drooped back up and down to the board and their paper. Misty was the first. No one expected anything remarkable after your interruption, Misty certainly didn't.

Her determined pencil focused on the marked notes painting the whiteboard, drowning your daunting steps about to pass her seat. Education was the one realm that made her feel valued, accomplished, smart.

Just brains without beauty.

Then whooshing air passed by, and a note fluttered on her desk—you had dropped it.

Her pencil froze mid-stroke as she took a deep breath, bracing for impact.

Would this be another critique targeting her imperfections? Another insult added to the mountainous tally of words dragging her down?

Just another avalanche of mockery she'd have to bear like permanent marker scrawled on her desk with names making God frown?

Unfolding it, she steeled herself for yet another verbal dagger aimed at her self-esteem, another blow, and then saw—

You're pretty.

Misty's blue eyes widened.

Was this a joke or a rare moment of genuine kindness? A prank? Where was the punchline, the cameras, the clown?

But she can't deny the pounding of her heart ringing in her ears, the tugging at her lips that managed to reach her eyes.

It ignited something new, something profound:

Hope.

She once thought hanging a picture of the equipment manager, her, would cue the cricket silence. Silence that made a library rowdy.

But maybe, somewhere in the crowd, she'd hear her name, loud and proud, spoken with adoration, just like those chants fans performed at the bleachers.

That, at seventeen, maybe she won't have to embrace the ugly duckling label. She'll no longer be a repulsive toy destined to be tucked away, left to gather dust alone.

That, finally, someone noticed her.

And you did.

"Did... you really mean to give this to me?" Misty asked the sender after class. One hand balled firmly around her bag's strap, while the other cradled the note without a crumple in sight.

It was treasure to her.

"I mean, you're sure you didn't mean to give this to someone else?"

"Yeah," you said with a sheepish smile, equally nervous. "It's for you, really."

That grin raised your cheeks, scattered with red blemishes like her own, and acne scars forming constellations on your skin. You were merely a face from a far, someone whose gaze possibly glazed over the back of her head. A peer she paid no mind to.

But, now, seeing you up-close made her see you in a different light. She wondered:

How can someone be this beautiful?

[rintarouss]

𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗟𝗗 𝗪𝗘 𝗖𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗗

Osamu always followed a routine. Waking earlier than the sun, running a mile before eight in the morning, eating three meals a day, and getting eight hours of sleep every night are just some things he always did without fail. You, on the other hand, seem to always change things up. Just maybe, he enjoys your unpredictability.

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀: husband!osamu x f!housewife reader

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: fluff, domestic life, mild suggestive themes at the end, trying to start a family, food/eating, im pretty sure i used no pronouns bc it was in third person

𝘄𝗰: 1.7K+

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: uhh yeah this was kinda indulgent and sorta inspired by that one scene in twd when rick wants to make babies w michonne

Alarm clocks were something that was never in use in your household, except in the kitchen. Osamu figured by his third year of high school that he had no use for them, as he always woke up a bit earlier than his scheduled alarm. His regimens were unwavering, so much so that his internal alarm clock was practically set in stone and would wake him everyday at 6:30AM with no chance of error. The fact his sleeping schedule was incredibly stable helped, too. The usual infuriating sound you were used to in high school was unheard of after graduating and moving in with Osamu. Even when you studied in university, you were never jolted awake by the blaring sound resonating from your phone’s speakers since your now-husband was always the one to gently wake you up. Nowadays, you usually woke up when your body decides it’s ready to start the day.

Sunlight seeped into your bedroom through your white flowy curtains that were pulled apart, letting the rays of light travel in freely. The intrusion woke you gently from your slumber, causing you to flutter your eyes open and stretch your limbs instantaneously without another thought. The familiar smell of sweet pancake batter and coffee caught your attention, the sounds of pans and dishes clinking following soon after. It was undoubtedly Osamu that was responsible for all the stimuli that was attacking your senses. Standing up from the bed, your feet hit the hardwood floors that felt ice cold each morning. Your body moved on its own, following the smell of the sweet caramel coffee you know your husband had made, fingers cascading down the smooth handrail of the staircase. Once you reached the kitchen, the sight of Osamu's shirtless and muscular back — barely covered by his black apron — was turned to you as he was tending to the eggs on the stove. 

“Damn, now this is a nice view”

Samu’s lips stretched out into a grin once he heard the saccharine sound of your voice, a small laugh bubbling from his throat and escaping quietly. He turned off the stove, seeing as the eggs have already cooked to your liking, sunny side up with a slightly runny yolk. He turned to face you with his pan in hand, ready to plate the eggs alongside the pancakes. He took in your beauty for a moment, giving a real good look at you. He took in everything about you; your messy hair that practically resembled a knot, your face free of makeup, your skimpy house clothes you only wore during hot summer nights, and your manicured hands fidgeting with your wedding band. 

“Yer’ awake early today, thought ya would be sleepin’ till noon,” he stated with a light chuckle. He gently placed the eggs onto the plates, careful with his movements as to not accidentally pop the yellow bulb of yolk. He then disposed of the non-stick pan by putting it in the sink before turning to you. His calloused hands held onto your waist and pulled you close, leaving not a single centimetre of air between your bodies.

“Thank you for the breakfast, honey,” You said quietly before burrowing your face into his chest, the muscle of his pecs caressing the apples of your right cheek and your arms wrapped around his neck. He let out a soft hum, letting you know that he was aware of your gratitude. After a moment of just standing there, holding each other, you felt his plush lips places a feather-light kiss on your face. Despite being married for a while, and dating for even longer, his small actions never failed to have your cheeks heat up.

Silently, you two separated and sat in your respective seats and began eating the food your doting husband had made but not before you two softly whispered “itadakimasu”. Mornings like these were always calm and serene. Perhaps for some, it would be too quiet for comfort. However, you two enjoyed starting your day this way; with gentle affection and basking in each other’s presences. Words didn’t need to fill the silence as it wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward, you two simply just liked being around each other. Your nearly telepathic bond was indescribable, but Osamu always found himself lucky to have found someone he was so compatible with.

It didn’t take long for you two to finish your meals, as the cook always made delicious food despite how simple or basic it may be. After you two were done, you gathered up the plates and placed them in the sink. You began to wash the dishes, including the utensils that Samu had used to cook breakfast. With your back turned to him, he took the opportunity to sneak up behind you and snake his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“What’s yer plans for today, my love?” he asked you, genuinely curious since you never had concrete routines. As a housewife of sorts, you were pretty much free to do whatever you wanted.

“Well actually, I was thinking of joining you at our store. I don’t have anything to do except laundry and clean which I could always do in the evening since it doesn’t take me too long,” You responded, resisting your urge to shrug since you didn’t want to accidentally brush off his chin that rested on you. 

“Are ya sure? I thought you’d want to-“

“Yes, I’m sure honey. Actually…” You began softly. Trailing off as you finished washing the last thing in the sink, which was the pan, and placing it on the drying rack. You dried off your hands on a tea towel before turning to face Samu and holding his face softly with both hands.

“I’m thinking since we are technically the store managers, what if we promote one of our employees to a manager? We’d get more free time to maybe work on opening another branch or free time in general. I know we’ve been talking about travelling too so… what do you think?” You asked sheepishly. While Onigiri Miya was the business you two started together, you always saw it as Samu’s business. For any business decision, you believed Osamu should have the final say as it was his pride and joy.

A smile spread wide on his face, trying his best not to squeal like a child due to his excitement. He peppered your face with kisses, his plump lips leaving a slight residue. You burst out laughing at his antics, only making his grin impossibly bigger. You let out a whine of annoyance, crying out that “You’re makin’ my face all sloppy ’n gross, Samu!”. He noticed a while back that you tend to speak in a way that mimicked his Kansai accent whenever you were overjoyed, and he loved every bit of it. 

“Well, I was just thinking more about our future… y’know? At some point we’ll need to expand which means we can’t be the only ones running the shops, we’ll need to promote employees to manager. And in the long run, it’ll give us more free time to pursue other goals apart from the shop,” You spoke, your dulcet voice captivating him while you spoke about your future with him.

He took your left hand that resided on his cheek into his own, before bringing the velvety smooth skin closer to his face. He pressed a kiss onto the wedding band you wore, the grey diamond shining due to the rays of sun that entered through the multitude of windows in your home. He remembered you saying you wanted to have grey diamonds for your wedding bands, as it reminded you so much of his hair that caught your eye back in high school. He initially hated the idea, finding it embarrassing that it was his hair of all things that caught your attention. Now, he finds the odd request endearing, as it was a reminder of him. He remembered that you made a joke about it that he was now wrapped around your finger, literally and figuratively, and he couldn’t have agreed more.

“Thinkin’ ‘bout our future, hm sweetheart?” He asked with his tone indicating he was trying to tease of fluster you. You rolled your eyes at his childish behaviour, hitting his bare pec lightly with your palm to feign annoyance. He chuckled at your reaction before pressing a sickeningly sweet kiss onto your lips, his left hand gripping your waist securely while the other held your face gently. God, he just loved kissing you. If he could, he would never pull away from you, but alas you had to. 

“I’m always thinking about our future, asshole. Before I would think about our future in terms of marrying you. Now that we’re married, I gotta think ahead. Like how we’re gonna grow old and we’ll be giving each other heart medicine,” You laughed, imagining what Samu would be like if he was old and bed ridden. He probably wouldn’t be grumpy, he never was. 

“Yeah? Well I’m thinkin’ of our future too, y’know? Like near future… like startin’ a family,” He mentioned calmly, his eyes locking with your gorgeous irises to search for any sort of reaction. Your eyes gleamed, and his heart softened.

“Yeah?” You asked for confirmation, leaning in closer, your breath tickling his face.

“Yeah,” He confirmed, closing the gap between you two and kissing you delicately.

You pressed your hands against his chest, pushing him away slightly to break apart the kiss. His eyebrows were furrowed, confused at your actions.

“You need to be at the shop soon,” You replied, slight disappointment weighing heavy on your heart as you just wanted to relish in the moment.

“Ya said we should promote a manager, right? Mori is the first employee to come and I’ll tell him to open the shop using the spare hidden key. Consider this his first day as manager, he knows what to do. Right now, I’m busy gettin’ busy,”

“Oh my god, I hate you,” 

© 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗧 𝗕𝗘𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦 𝗧𝗢 𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗦𝗦 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟭. 𝗗𝗢 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗠𝗢𝗗𝗜𝗙𝗬 𝗢𝗥 𝗥𝗘𝗣𝗢𝗦𝗧. 𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 !

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @dancingazaleas @izukine @txzierbaby @mitsuluv @xenihime @conniesspringersgf @fiaficsxo @s4ijohs @oblxvion @inumakizone​ @megumisbimbo

[ellsbclls]

White Winged Dove

warnings ➛ COUNTRY!TOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MY BELOVED!!!!!!!! smut, baby! (PLEASE do not interact if you are a minor), hurt/comfort, minor angst, happy ending: guaranteed!, a handful of swear words, and y/n has no choice but to have a country accent, i don’t make the rules here. extended warnings will be under the cut!

word count ➛ 9.5K

authors note ➛ i saw that gifset of tom taking a shower in cherry and my brain short circuited, so here! have a cupcake!

synopsis ➛ Tom feels like his world is falling apart, so he turns to you, the only person that reminds him of home.

extended warnings ➛ nsfw, fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, multiple orgasms, unprotected f/m intercourse (please practice safe sex, kiddos! wrap it before you whack it!), a tiny tiny tiny sliver of blood!play if you squint with one eye closed.

You remember the night in waves, docile, fleeting waves that tease the rim of your consciousness before reeling back. Golden whiskey licks at the seam of your lips with each pass of the bottle, and the pond is glittering beneath the blinking trails of all the lightning bugs — tens of hundreds of fireflies, dancing in the night’s misty skyglow, rivaling the pale moonlight.

You remember the night in waves, but he is a mighty current.

You can’t scrub the memory of him from your mind, that bleak, hopeless expression that hollowed out his features. You remember how your heart split into a million little shards the second it appeared, and just when you thought there was nothing left to break, his fragile voice pleaded for you to take him somewhere, anywhere, as long as it was far.

By the time the sun spilled past your window pane, you were nothing but a drowsy amalgamation of lithe limbs, coated in morning glow as it spilled through the glass.

But behind your eyelids lives an imprint of the night before — a shimmering reflection of the night sky, and the moments that unraveled beneath its sweeping gaze.

9:17PM — You’re belting into your hairbrush, not a care in the world, and pouring your heart and soul out to a crowd of none. Somewhere between all of your clumsy twirls and impromptu choreography, you stumble over the shoebox that was poking out from under your bed, and a flurry of damp tresses and musical giggles fan across your comforter.

The walls in your house have always been notoriously thin, but what could you possibly expect from the weathered planks of wood paneling that lined your bedroom? You could hear your father’s creaky footsteps whenever he ransacked the fridge for leftovers in the dead of night, and the heavy thump of laundry that your mother would throw down to the basement, but once your radio crackles to life, and Stevie’s enchanting croon permeates the air, all those subtle nuances fades to a dull, lifeless roar.

With each passing note, the white winged dove becomes you, and you soar above endless miles of  Mississippi wood. There’s not a soul that can drag you back to the outskirts of town, force you to confront what may become of you when you land, there’s no room for trepidation where you go. There, in your own little corner of the woods, it’s just you, Stevie Nicks, and the moon.

And, technically, Thomas.

Minutes have gone by, you still can’t find the strength, nor the energy, to lift yourself up, and as your downy blankets hug your tired frame, you remain blissfully ignorant of your peeping tom.

Thomas, affectionately penned Tommy, has been your best friend, your confidante, since the very first day of kindergarten. You had pulled a pack of scented markers from your tiny, pink barbie backpack during free time, and he had pulled out the empty seat beside you, plucking, sniffing, and ultimately discarding each and every pen until the box was empty. When you asked him which one was his favorite, he asked you the very same in response, just so you’d “coincidentally” have a shared affinity for coconuts. He was oddly endearing, which is a trait that’s always stuck with him. So, even at a young age, you never wondered if he was just using you for your nice possessions, or trying to take advantage of your courtesy — he always offered himself to you at face value, and you never stopped taking as much of him as you could get.

Had you been aware that your childhood friend was waiting expectantly at your window, you may have handled your alone time with a tad more discretion — but you weren’t, and each act of your private concert forces him into an even harder position. To what extent does he let you embarrass yourself before he makes his presence known, and for how long will you bury your head in the sand before the embarrassment mulls over? He sees your stage dive as a golden opportunity, and seizes it before you begin to stir.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Three short, mild raps, uttered in quick succession, jostle you from your lavish daydreams like a bucket of ice water, and you have to squint just to make out his fair features amidst all the darkness shrouding them.

“Tommy?” A flash of his soft, earthy hues tame the wild drum of your heart, confirming your suspicions, and you fight the urge to chuckle when he innocently waves at you.

“Well don’t get all shy on me now. Come in.” You open the window just enough for him to slip through its frame, allowing your eyes to graze the sculpted plains of his back, and admire, albeit shamelessly, how his muscles ripple beneath his fitted t-shirt.

Yet, there’s something about him being in your room, towering over fixtures that once towered over him, that makes you feel uneasy. A part of you adores the way he instantly makes himself at home, but the remainder is doused in fear, fretting over his wandering hands and what they may discover, surveying little trinkets and souvenirs that decorate your desk.

“Hasn’t changed much since the last time I was in here, has it?” He notes, absentmindedly shaking the contents of a snowglobe your grandma brought you from New York, a miniature skyline of Manhattan continuously buried in a flurry of snow. Most of your playdates took place in his house, so as your friendship flourished past elementary school, and the time that spanned between your meetings grew shorter and shorter, you’d found yourselves frequenting his home for all of your endeavors. It was just easier that way.

That’s the sole reason you rarely visited your room. It surely wasn’t the suffocating atmosphere that plagued your home, or your hormonal, angst ridden brain convincing you that you’d scare him to the high heavens if he caught a glimpse of your relationship with your family — how dismal it is. How you build entire worlds, cycle through dozens of bountiful lives, in the luxury of your mind in hopes of retreating.

You’d be lying if you said the poster of Zac Efron, now lurking precariously behind his shoulder, wasn’t a glaring reason as well.

“Yeah, couple things here and there, but it’s pretty much the same.” You try to be discreet as you wander around your own room, Destination: Tiger Beat. Once you reach it, you rise up on your tiptoes to cover as much of the poster as humanly possible, but scramble for an excuse once you notice him turning. “You actually left something the last time you were here. It’s on the top shelf.”

RIP! The poster is crumpled in your grasp no sooner than his back turns to you. You’d have to give a formal apology to your wildcat once you were left to your own devices, but until then, he was banished to the most unsuspecting corner of your room.

“Jesus Christ Y/N,” His thumb fondly strokes a small, yellowed testament to your friendship, a weathered page of loose leaf etched in awry plumes of ink that perfectly encapsulate his very essence — egregiously passionate, regardless of the outcome. He had written it when he was about seven, intending to give it to the “girl of his dreams” once he met her. You can still hear his sweet, little voice echo between your ears, endearingly mistaking his r’s for w’s. “You kept this?”

“Of course I did.“ Candor coats your tongue before you catch yourself, the tail end of your answer turning to dust as soon as it hits the air. You can’t bring yourself to admit just how many restless nights you’ve allowed yourself to clamber up that oak dresser, just to read that letter over, and over, and over again, praying that if you had stared at it for long enough, his messy scrawl would transform into the words you yearned for most — that it was meant for you, that he’s loved you from the very start. “Wasn’t sure if you were planning to repurpose it for some other lucky gal.”

You lock eyes with him for the first time since he appeared at your window, and stowed beneath his reservation are faint embers of warmth, kindling behind ebony curtains as you indulge in the hearth of his gaze. Lifetimes seemingly pass before his eyes are flickering back down to his hands, and it prompts you to offer him the note. “You can have it back.”

“No, you keep it.” Your brows pinch together, and a thousand questions collect on the tip of your tongue. You wonder if he recalls the same memory you do, if he remembers the significance buried in that little scrap of paper, but ultimately choose not to dwell on it. He knows just how much you love to collect memorabilia — keep cherished memories stowed away for safekeeping — he’s just being thoughtful. “Consider it undeniable proof that I know how to read and write.”

“Ain’t nothin’ in here about knowing how to read.” You tease, catching your tongue between your canines as a smirk conquers your lips.

“Ya got me,” He chuckles, smile reaching for, but never quite meeting, his faraway stare. You are so accustomed to his teasing quips, his usual flair for the dramatics, that this half-hearted attempt at replicating it fills you with discomfort. He tries to punctuate his words by tossing his arms to the sky, but they don’t reach high enough to convince you that he’s okay. Something is plaguing him, and you won’t settle for anything less than the truth.

“Tommy,” His name is sweet on your tongue, all honeyed vowels and soft, descant consonants that command his attention. “What’s wrong?”

“No, nothin’, I just-“ he’s avoiding your eyes, which is a clever strategy on his part. If eyes are the windows to the soul, then his are a stained glass mosaic, a vibrant display of all his emotions, and you — you are but an avid observer.

“Hey, look at me,” Two slender digits underline the curve of his jaw, and with a firm grasp of his chin, leave him no choice but to meet your gaze, tender and resolute all the same. “ You don’t have to tell me anything if you’re not ready, but I can tell when someone’s been rode hard and put away wet.”

“I just, I need to get out of here, and I thought I’d ask my favorite distraction to accompany me.” He stumbles over his words, faltering over his messy façade, but you’d rather this over nothing at all.

“And where might we be goin’?” You query. You can tell that this is going to be a long night, but luckily for him, you don’t have any plans that can’t be rescheduled. Your adoring fans will just have to wait another night.

“Somewhere… Anywhere,” He murmurs hopefully, and your heart nearly sinks to the floor. You’ve never seen such a chasm of joy, not in those bright, amber orbs you study so adamantly. You’d almost deem it pain, whatever’s tugging at the frame of his optics, whatever’s depriving them of that usual, warm glow. “as long as it’s far from here.”

9:39PM — “Watch your step.”

“Can you help me?” You whine — one hand reaching out for his assistance, the other firmly clasped around a bottle of Jack Daniels. There is an awkward incline just below you, only a few inches off the ground, but tall enough to make you stumble, and he could already see you bumping your knees on the way down, so he offers his elbow as a point of leverage.

“Atta girl, you’ve got it.” He coos, reluctantly abandoning your grip once you’re safely on the ground.

Mystical, and buzzing with life, you introduce him to the farthest corner of the woodlands. Whenever the walls of your room become suffocating, your legs always give out right about here. 

Your secret hideaway. 

Where you let your most worrisome thoughts roam free, and when those thoughts seemingly wander into nothingness, you chalk it up to wishful thinking, and fail to realize that they haven’t disappeared, they just don’t belong to you anymore. They belong to the babbling brook, constantly replenishing itself and its inhabitants with fresh, spring water, belong to the frogs and crickets as they fill the night with their moonlit ballad, they belong to the night, and it’s reflection, as it wades across the face of the creek; dotted with lightning bugs or the cosmos themself, you weren’t sure. All you know is that you always returned, as if a piece of you was tethered to the very spot.

“Where are we?” He wonders aloud, raking his fingers through his downy, chestnut locks as he explores his surroundings.

“I don’t exactly know.” You confess, making yourself comfortable on the ground. Most nights, you slip off your shoes and sink your feet into the brook, but you know Tom like the back of your hand, know what kind of ideas might venture through that rascally mind of his when he spots you near the water. So, you play it safe, pulling your knees up to your chest as you peer up at him from a safe distance. “It’s nice, though. Quiet. Good place to let your thoughts wander.”

“You ever take a dip in here?” Predictable. You stifle the urge to laugh at his query, sinking ivory veneers into your pillowy bottom lip, and shake your head in response.  “Hell, if I were you, with my own nature-made swimmin’ pool, I’d bring all the boys around.”

“You know I don’t waste my time with no silly boys.” You sigh, sending him a wistful glare. 

“You sure about that?” He counters, mimicking your perked brow with eerie precision.

“Oh, I’m sure.” You huff. God doesn’t build boys the same way he built him, he took his time crafting that statuesque frame, implemented hawk-eyed precision for each and every beguiling detail you’ve come to adore. He is a man, tried and true, from his sharp, angular structure to the neverending bounds of his heart, but rather than inflate his ego moreso, you let him assume the worst. “You can take a dip if you want, though. I wouldn’t mind.”

You wonder if he can tell just how little you’d mind as a mischievous glint highlights his amber hues, but before he can even open his mouth, you’ve already pinpointed the source of his glower, already voicing your adamant refusal. “No, absolutely not. Not a chance, Tommy.”

“But why not?” He whines, bellowing over your feeble chant, conjuring the most convincing set of pleading eyes he can muster. “It’s dark, it’s humid, and ain’t no one around to tell us not to.”

“Sounds like all the more reason to not do that.” You scoff, scooting further away from him and the strength of his hopeful gaze.

“I hate to pull out the big guns, but... what if I told you that it’d make me feel so much better if you accompanied me?” You’re left to wonder what the big guns are supposed to be, if they aren’t the way he is encroaching on your personal space, crawling up the length of your legs until there is only a sliver of space between you. 

“I’d remind you that there are much drier ways to make you feel better.” You could feel your warm breath fanning across his lips, distracting you with the scent of minty toothpaste and your vanilla chapstick, ultimately failing to notice his hands, and how they’re positioned just below your waist.

It would only take one swift move to reach the small of your back, two to scoop you up in his arms, and about six more to drag you into the pond — kicking and screaming, but successfully so.

And he doesn’t chance it.

SPLASH! You’re no sooner submerged in the brooks’ murky depths, reaching out for lily pads and cattails that fail to provide you leverage, and your screams bubble into thick, smothered embers of a once irate flame. He better pray you never emerge from usunder, because he’s merely a howl away from being swept up in the tide — the tide being your arms as they force him to the bottom of the crick.

“Y/N,” your name scrambles between the slosh of the water and the pounding in your ears, but you manage to break the surface and blink spare drops of water from your eyes.

“I was drowning!’ You gasp, struggling to keep your head above water as you kick, and splash, and writhe around in the stygian abyss.

“In two feet of water? I beg to differ.” You can barely make out his comeback over his fit of giggles, but a part of you would rather this bright, teasing version of himself that what you’ve been dreading beforehand. Taking his outstretched hand, you stumble to your feet and, much to your dismay, find yourself standing in about two feet of water (which, in your defense, is a far more daunting threat to someone your size as opposed to his). You cool his inflating ego with a cold splash of water, dispersing tiny droplets from your fingers as they wave in front of his face.

You splash around in the water for what feels like forever, transforming stray lily pads into makeshift hats, dressing to the nines in the latest collection of aquatic couture, and as the moon casts a pale spotlight on the babbling brook, you occupy it’s centre, huddled in one another’s embrace, swaying back and forth amidst the shallow pools.

10:02 — You're still wet.

Drenched, really.

You’ve resorted to wringing out your hair with your bare hands, twisting the dampened locks between your fists until water pours from the follicles. You’d never once pondered the benefits of freshwater landings, but you were about to find out. A glare threatened to slice through the air, but immediately wavered at the sight of him — desolate, void, so lost in his thoughts that you’d wondered if he were even there.

God, you’re worried sick. You’ve dealt with bouts of sadness, sprinkles of melancholy, but this was downright depressing. You wouldn’t even know what to do if you tried, and that’s what worried you the most.

Thomas, your best friend, your crush, your light — the best parts of you all wrapped up in a clumsy little package while the best parts of him threaten to snatch up your heart, as if it wasn’t already his.

“Tommy?” You break him out of his reverie, but press on, scooching closer to his form, dangerously standoffish, like an uncaged animal winding up to attack, until you cross the threshold into his personal space. With a sturdy hold on his bicep, he melts into the palm of your hand, practically leaning all of his weight into you, stealing a reprieve you didn’t know he needed. “You can talk to me, y’know. It’s just us.”

“She left, Y/N.” The evening air seems still, in perfect tandem with your breath as you fear what might come out once you finally exhale. You know he’d shove all of his feelings down if he caught you shedding a single tear, and this isn’t about you, it never has been. So you hold your breath, latching onto the heavy silence that follows his confession, and pray that your chest is strong enough to smother the sob bubbling beneath its surface.

Fortunately, he takes your silence as a cue to continue. “The closet was empty, and all her cookbooks were gone. I looked downstairs and there was nothin’ there.” You don’t know if he’s finished, watching as he toys with a loose string on his jeans, but he breaks his own silence with a newfound waver in his voice.  “I had a feelin’ she was ‘bout to leave, but I didn’t think it’d be so soon. I thought I had a lil’ bit more time to say goodbye.”

Edie was a good mother, the best of mothers, and never had she drawn a line when it came to who she nurtured. When you were little kids, you’d race each other to his house once the school bell rang, tiny little bodies weaving through the stalks of corn that prefaced the farm. She would follow the shuffling crops with a heavy eye, leading you to the porch with her raspy, whimsical chime, and crouch down to envelop the both of you in a tight hug when you emerged. She was the best of mothers.

But she wasn’t the best of wives. You were both far too young to notice the signs — the nights where you found her sound asleep on the sofa by her own volition, the packed suitcase that hid underneath the stairwell to the basement, the hesitance that laced her tone when she said I love you to his father — and something tells you she wanted to keep it that way. 

Her son didn’t need to worry about his parents, and how fast they were falling out of love, and whether they really loved each other in the first place. Her son just needed to be a kid, and that is a belief she devoted the best years of her life to.

But he isn’t a kid anymore.

That’s why she fled in the middle of night, leaving nothing but a ruby encrusted ring on his dresser — her class ring. The same one he’d snatch from her jewelry box whenever she wasn’t looking. The same one he used to propose to you at the wee age of four, promising you as much of the world as a toddler could imagine.

Tears prick at the corner of your eyes as he recounts every detail, and every fiber of your being yearns to just schoop him up in your arms, hold all his broken pieces together with the strongest embrace you can muster. He doesn’t deserve that type of pain, shouldn’t have to relive it, and yet he takes it upon himself to tell you everything, to relive it for your own selfish gain.

You grow envious of the way the moon trails kisses down the slope of his nose, across the high rise of his cheeks, and over the swell of his bottom lip. There were times where you’d find traces of his mother in Tom’s features, lining the curve of his warm smile or, when the sun hit them just right, speckling his earthy hues with tiny rods of gold. Tonight, he is shrouded in a celestial spotlight, mesmerized by its waning body, and if you squint just enough, you’ll find her longing stare hidden beneath his own.

“And the worst part is that I ain’t even mad at her. Not even a lil’ bit.” He concludes, talking more to the sky than to you. “Not even at all.” When his gaze falls back to you, you can only try to cover up the betrayal, wipe the back of your arm across your tear-stained cheeks before he notices they’re even misty.

You inevitably fail, expelling a wistful sigh as he pulls you into his side, comfortingly running his hand over your bicep as he murmurs sweet nothings into the night.

“I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t want you to find out like this,” You furrow your brows, and wonder just how he would want to break the news to you. Would he let you find out for yourself, or would he bring you out to the plantation, and let you sink into the soil until the news began to blossom in the fields? Would they be cornstalks? And would they reach for the sky just like her?  “I didn’t wanna make you cry, but... I didn’t know where else to go.”

“It’s okay.” Your voice is a wash of dulcet tones, fingers soothingly raking through his damp tendrils in a silent bid to comfort him. “It’s okay, I’m a big girl. I can take it.” You’re quick to clamber to your knees, wrapping him up in an airtight embrace, keeping him from wallowing into a puddle of tears. “I’m right here, Tommy.”

“I know,” he sputters, with an edge of sorrow to his tone.

“I’m right here, I’m not goin’ anywhere.” You promise.

“Don’t say that” He whispers, and shatters any trace of consolation looming over the encounter. Your brow furrows, your heart pounds against your chest, and for a fleeting second, you feel like you're caught in a lie. What if he knows? What if he can tell just how much you’d surrender to be with him? What if he doesn’t want it?  

“Why not?” You’re near hysterics, praying that the intensity in your eyes makes up for the tremor in your voice. “Why not? I didn’t say anything I didn’t mean.” 

“I just don’t want you to make a promise you can’t keep, Y/N.” That sullen gaze resurfaces, chills the air with it’s haunting presence — that hollow stare which fosters the remnants of a bright, contagious joy, and carves a pit, just as empty, in the well of your stomach, one that aches to be satiated. He tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear, but his palm lingers against your cheek, trying to smooth out the heavy creases in your expression with the gentle stroke of his thumb.  “Hell, I don’t want you to promise that in the first place. You deserve more than all this, you deserve the best this life has to offer you, and I’m not gonna keep you from all o’ that.”

You’ve lost track of your heart long ago, it’s dizzying tempo rivaling a hummingbird, nearly undetectable as it flitted uncontrollably, knocking against your ribs until its ultimate descent to the pit of your stomach. 

You pray that he can one day see everything that you see in him, that loving himself is as easy for him as it is for you; you hope that there is a life where he never has to feel as small, or inconvenient, as he confessed, and you wish that this would eventually be that life.

You decide that it’s time to put an end to wishful thinking. 

“Let me make something clear to you, Thomas.” You cup his jaw, firmly, and utter each word without a trace of uncertainty. “I’m not sure exactly what I want from life yet. I don’t know if I wanna spend the rest of it in this little ol’ town, or just pack my things and go as far as the wind will take me. I couldn’t tell you if I tried, but… that’s okay.” Slowly but surely, your lips give way to a sheepish grin, feeling lighter, freer, the further into your declaration. “It’s okay, because there’s one thing that’s for certain, and it’s that I’m all yours. It don’t matter how far I go, I’m always gonna come home to you.”

The silence is deafening. 

All your emotions hang in the air, crippling your air supply with insurmountable regret. But his gaze is what terrifies you the most; just as suffocating, but in a way that sweeps the air from your lungs. You knew that there would always come a time where all the unrequited feelings you’ve harbored would finally boil to the surface, fueled by the hope that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t as one sided as you thought; but under the void of his empty gaze, you wonder if you’d made a huge mistake. 

Or maybe there really is nothing — nothing to reciprocate, nothing to subdue you, nothing to salvage what little remained of your friendship after such a loaded confession — and so you scramble to assemble an apology convincing enough to overshadow your lapse in judgement.

But he doesn’t even spare you the chance, swallowing your half-hearted excuses with the firm press of his lips, pouring a lifetime of ardent desire, of longing, into the hollow of your mouth. It’s crystal clear that you’re his, the realization comes borderline cathartic. There has never been a day where your heart has not beat for him, and only him, forever threatening to spring from your chest and return to its rightful owner. The days, the months, the years of back and forth felt like a cruel jest from the fates, but now you were here, bundled in the warmth of his strong embrace, tongues curling against one another in an endless battle for dominance, and you would endure it all over again if this was where it lead

He searches for some sign of absolution, paws up and down your back in hopes of grounding himself, and you reverently provide, mustering what little strength you have left to crawl into his lap, brushing against the growing bulge in his jeans without a trace of subtlety, offering him the most sacred parts of you in hopes of bringing him home.

“Y/N,” he sighs raggedly, a half hearted attempt to gain your attention, one that proves unsuccessful as his pleas whittle into a frail, insipid shadow of what they could be. You’re too busy acquainting yourself with the plains of his body, embedding a trail of deep red marks into the column of his neck as your hands slip beneath the hem of his t-shirt. He’s built like a greek statue, you don’t even need to discard his shirt to indulge in the taut muscles tensing beneath your fingertips. “Y/N, darlin’, wait.” He interrupts your greedy ministrations by fastening his digits around your wrists. This is the point of no return, you can feel the fragile divide between friends and lovers, splintering beneath the weight of your heart, and yet you fail to concern yourself.

His digits are free to roam the high plains of your cheeks, pioneering the flushed expanse with beacons of soft, arching butterfly kisses until there’s no skin to cover, ultimately pressing his forehead against yours. ”You don’t- I don’t want you to do anything you don’t wanna do.” Seems almost redundant, you muse, to wonder if you want him when you’ve made it abundantly clear that you’d follow him to the ends of the earth. You are a pillar of salt, and as he showers you in a knee buckling torrent of kisses, you melt into the palm of his hands. If the way you’re draped against his form isn’t evidence enough, then the wetness pooling between your thighs most certainly will be, he’ll come across that confirmation once he tends to the spot you need him most.

You trace the cleft of his chin in delicate pursuit, whining as he tears his lips from their languid path, and peer through your inky lashes to meet his gaze once more. “I want this, Tom. I want you.”

“You have me. I’m all yours.” He echoes your words back to you, reverently, delivering a sacred vow from the hearth of your soul, ove you have, and will continue to, dedicate your humble living to, and you seal that promise with a bruising kiss. 

The weight of his palm melts into the small of your back, pulling your chest flush against his own as it sweeps up your spine, and you moan against his lips when your nipples press up against his sturdy chest, aching to be freed as they strain against their gossamer confines. 

You’ve only had the pleasure of making out with Tom for less than five minutes, but you can already tell that it ranks high on your list of favorite pastimes. Soft, pink petals brush against your own like they’re a flourishing canvas, and he’s trying to even out the brushstrokes, but all he leaves is a scorching flush in his wake, and your clothing, despite being bathed in pond water, do little to ease the blistering heat. It’s suffocating you, and you begrudgingly tear yourself away so that you can rid yourself of the article.

Besides, the less fabric separating you from his anchoring, toned embrace, the better.

“I’m all dirty,” Your meek voice collapses into a fit of giggles, and your feeble attempt to wring out your clothes is thwarted by his hands, venturing up, up, up, and under the hem of your skirt at a teasing pace, savoring the feeling of your warm, silky skin beneath his fingertips. You can tell he’s as desperate as you are, confronted with acres of new terrain to explore, and only so little of his patience to spare.

“I know, I’m sorry angel.” His voice is soft, and soothing, and riddled with mischief. Even if there is even an ounce of truth in his apology, you can still make out the devilish grin that toys at the corner of his mouth. “May I, m’lady?” He croons teasingly, flashing those whiskey glazed hues in a way that you could never refuse. 

“Proceed, good sir.” You counter in the most refined timbre you can dictate, a low chuckle escaping his lips as he bunches the hem of your dress in his palms, hoisting it over your head to expose the breathtaking contours and curves of your body. You can’t remember what compelled you to forego your bra, but the thought is soon pushed to the corner of your mind, making room for the warm, fuzzy feeling that conquers your insides when Tom lays his eyes on you, bared to him and only him. His gaze alone makes you feel like you are a spectacle to behold, the most enchanting vision to ever cross his line of sight. If there was even a speck of insecurity buried deep in the back of your mind, the sight of Tom’s eyes, blown wide with adoration as they worship every sinful inch of your skin, instantly quells those fears. 

He struggles to find his words, to occupy this infinite silence with anything, everything, as his calloused palms caress the sides of your waist, but all he can manage is a husky growl. One that prefaces the reappearance of his tongue, and its feverish descent from the column of your neck to the tops of your breasts, bathing your skin with gluttonous, broad strokes, and coaxing pretty, little whines from the back of your throat.

There is something so unhinged in his actions, so carnal, it summons another wave of arousal to pool against your soiled panties, knowing you have such a strong clutch on his resolve. Though, another branch of your mind races at a mile a minute, consumed by the endless possibilities that come equipped with Tom’s skill. 

You try not to dwell on the little flings that came before you, especially now, in the afterglow of your confession. The taunting, pitious gazes you shared with his hookups in the hallowed halls of your alma mater, toting a reminder that they could indulge in everything you yearned for, scorched you more than the thought of the act itself — but the rumors were just plain inescapable. If even a fraction of them hold a candle to the truth, then you are in for one hell of a night.

“You’re just as sweet as I imagined, angel.” Angel. The nickname sends sparks flying in the well of your stomach. “Can’t wait to taste that perfect little pussy. Just know it’s gonna be even sweeter when you cum all over my fingers.”

You whine softly at his words, but clench hard around nothing, aching to be filled by those unbearably long, slender digits. Nothing could have prepared you for the scene unraveling below you — his lips latched around the stiff peak of your nipple, a husky groan reverberating around the pebbled surface, and head slightly moving against the palm of your hand as your fingers tug at his chestnut locks. The long, covetous laps of his tongue mingling with the vibrations of his contented little hums make you desperate for more, arching, writhing, trembling against him in hopes of finding a semblance of relief for the ache between your thighs.

“Tommy, please.” You plead in the most convincing, fucked out tone you can muster, but he doesn’t budge, showering your other bud with a flurry of quick, relentless kitten licks. Even mother nature joins in his relentless teasing, making you squirm as the gentle breeze blows cool, summer air against the glistening bud.

This is torture, a blissful, euphoric form of torture that, despite your irritability, you would surrender to time and time again. But you fail to notice just how hard your canines puncture the swell of your bottom lip, too immersed in the stroke of his tongue, in the ghost of pleasure that stirs in the pit of your stomach each time you rut against his clothed cock. A sharp, metallic tang seeps into your mouth, hitting the tip of your tongue and forcing a trembling whimper to the front of your mouth.

The pitiful sound piques Tom’s interest, and before you can wipe the blood from your lip, your face is already cradled between his palms. “Fuck, Y/N, look at you,” His eye were wide with concern, and your heart sputters over the blistering scorch of need his compassion arises in you. “C’mere.” Dropping his forehead against your own, his tongue tentatively brushes the curve of your lips, lapping up every last drop of blood that is smeared against it. He applies pressure to the wound, cauterizes it with a searing dance of bloodstained brims, as his one hand weaves into your damp locks. You barely know how to respond, but your body compensates with an untapped sense of hunger, scraping your teeth against his lower lip as you desperately claw at the toned valley of his back.

“Please, Tommy, please. I’m dripping.” You mewl, teetering over the perilous edge of delusion, foraging between your stomachs in search of his free hand. Yet another wave of arousal pools between your thighs at the sight of him, with his puffy, saliva stained lips slightly parted, and his eyes blown wide with the insatiable need to indulge himself, to spoil you. Once your fingers circle around his wrist, you guide his hand to the apex of your thighs and urge him to feel for himself, applying the lightest of pressure against his fingers, urging him to caress your tender lips through the sodden barrier of your panties. To feel what he’s done to you. “You feel that? It’s all for you.”

“All for me,” he echoes back, mesmerized, cognac hues fading into obsidian orbs as he rubs deliberately teasing circles over your covered clit. “And you ask oh so pretty. Let me take care of you, my pretty girl.” Before you even get the chance to reply, he’s pushing your panties to the side, dipping the pad of his middle finger between your silky folds — feeling, exploring, acquainting himself with the tight ring of muscle that he plans on stretching open. 

His hesitation is nothing more than a plight at this point, you are more than willing to take anything he has to offer, and he can gather that much from the wild gleam in your eyes, so he slowly works one finger into your snug, velvety walls and curses under his breath at how heavenly you feel. You’re unlike anything he’s had before, far exceeding the lengths of his imagination as you softly clench around his digit, and it only takes a few seconds to adjust to the lithe intrusion, your walls already twitching against his shallow, testing thrusts, before he adds another.

“So fuckin’ perfect, darlin’. Love the way your pretty little cunt takes me.” A thin sheen of sweat coats your forehead as he rocks his digits at a leisurely pace. Tom is obsessed with the tiny frown forming between your brows, almost like you’re confused by the amount of pleasure building between your legs, struggling to keep your eyes open, your juices spilling past your opening to trickle down the palm of his hand. To say your experience is limited is a bit of an understatement — the whopping two men you’ve slept with prior were merely amateurs in comparison to your lover. Even if there was enough air in your lungs to articulate it, you don’t have the heart to tell him that you’ve never been fingerfucked. Period. The embarrassment almost swallows you whole.

But even without anything to compare it to, you’re convinced that you’re receiving the upper echelon of experiences.

As his pace quickens, prodding against your pulsing walls with an onslaught of keen, ravaging thrusts, you’re too busy gasping for air to notice how he’s switched his angle. Now the heel of his hand is rubbing against your bundle of nerves with each stroke, applying just enough pressure to light a spark without ever setting you off, and as the pads of his fingers pound against your sweet spot, you are reduced to a limbless puddle in his hands, doused in an ethereal glow that only he could surface. “God, Y/N, you look like an angel. My pretty little angel— ‘bout to cum all over my fingers.” he panted, voice biting the air with a wolfish gleam, canines peaking past his thin lips.

“Tommy, I’m so close.” You aren’t sure if you can hold on for much longer, dangling on the coattails of insurmountable bliss, finding a new reason to fall apart with each lewd kiss or sharp thrust. Your orgasm is already creeping up, threatening to crash over you each time he plunges into your slick heat, but you know that you want to feel him — all of him — stretching you to unimaginable lengths as he sinks into your tight little hole for the first time. “I wanna feel you. I wanna- I need to cum on your cock.”

Tom’s brows meet in the middle, and you wonder if you’ve strewn too far, surrendered the remainder of your common sense to lust and her shameless palms. “Such a filthy little mouth for such a good girl.” He whispers, wondering aloud, his free hand abandoning the nape of your neck to cup your jaw as his thumb sweeps over your bottom lip, applying just enough pressure to drag it down before letting it spring back to its pouty default. “You will, angel, you will, but I gotta get you ready first.” He reassures you, and you remember just how prominent his length is, straining against the denim cage of his jeans, and attribute his wavering tone to the sheer restraint he’s been exhibiting. But you have to admit — if his fingers are only a fraction of his length, then you are not sure just how much of him you’ll be able to handle. The thought sends you barrelling toward your climax, but not without the help of his thumb, pressing up to rub fervent, clumsy circles against your clit, his husky tenor cooing sweet words of encouragement into the space just below your ear. “I can feel you, angel, let go for me. I’ve got you.”

With one final thrust, he buries his fingers to the hilt, caressing your g-spot with a tentative come hither motion, until you are ridden with overwhelming waves of pleasure. All you can feel are your tender walls tightening around his fingers, and your thighs starting to tremble under the weight of your high. But he is spellbound, mesmerized by the swirling vision of you at your most content, eyelids hanging low over your blown out hues, your hips absentmindedly grinding against his hand, meeting his timid rhythm as he tries to work you through your aftershocks.

Emptiness soon replaces the stretch of his fingers once he slips them out, but a twitch of excitement follows the path of his slick hand, and you can’t stop from outright moaning at his shameless display.

“Just what I thought,” he murmurs. You are too captivated by the sight of his lips — pink, and kiss-weathered, and frankly obscene —  opening wide to welcome his slick fingers, gracing his taste buds with your juices, and humming around them as they coat his tongue in an intoxicating elixir . “Open up, pretty girl,” You‘re torn from your trance by the pressure of his digits, knocking against your bottom lip, begging for entry. “Come taste how sweet you are.”

Hollowing your cheeks, you graciously welcome his fingers, putting on a show as you swirl your tongue between the two digits, moaning softly as the bittersweet taste that hits your tastebuds. You aren’t prepared for the shallow, tentative thrust of his digits, or how he starts up a slow, steady rhythm against the back of your tongue — but god do you welcome it, softly gagging with each steady downstroke, spit already dribbling down your chin as you try to keep up with his quickening pace.

“Atta girl, that’s it.” He offers you a ginger smile, one that makes the tears pooling in your eyes worth gagging for. “Good girl. Good, good girl. I wish you could see how pretty you look.”

You try to reply over his digits, but your words are muffled and faint as they thud against the wall of your lips. Luckily, he’s coherent enough to notice that you’d like to speak — and who is he to stifle that sweet little voice of yours? “Thank you,” you pant, fluttering your tear-stained lashes up at him as you clamber to fill your lungs, disputing your feverish pleas as you wriggle away from the outline of his cock. The sensation of his waterlogged jeans rubbing against your sensitive bundle of nerves has you keening over him, pushing you further from his crotch, and closer to his embrace, back arched with a near-feline agility.

“Can I?” you ask, kneading your palms over his thighs, feigning innocence as you inch closer and closer to his zipper with each upstroke, and he nods, granting you permission to free him from his denim confines. In one fluid motion, your one hand unzips his fly as the other helps him kick off the remainder of his offending items, and you have to resist the urge to drool at the sight of his cock springing from his boxers, let alone his sinfully perfect, exposed form.

He’s a little bit larger than you expected — what he lacks in length, he makes up in girth, but there isn’t much to make up for in the first place. His shaft is decorated with pretty, ivory veins, ones that would no doubt twitch beneath the hot, heavy weight of your tongue, and the crown of his cock is flushed, glistening with a thin sheen of precum that makes your mouth feel conveniently dry. Your walls twitch at the disheartening reminder of your emptiness, but all out spasm as his fingers eclipse the circumference of his cock, using your juices to leisurely pump himself.

“You’re so pretty.” You sigh, a flurry of giggles floating beneath your words as you reach out to touch him, hovering just above the tip in order to send him a cautionary glance — one he hurriedly accepts, nodding his head fervently as he stutters into his grasp. A rosy hue blooms across the valley of your cheekbones as you encircle him, covering whatever he can’t as he all but bucks into your palm. His heart strains against his chest upon the realization that his hand easily dwarfs your own, watches your smaller fingers barely curl around his engorged shaft and fights the urge to cum right then and there.

No, he needs to feel you.

“Are you sure?” He asks once more, granting you a final chance to salvage what little scraps remain of your childhood friendship, but you are already committed, determined to devour every last, glorious piece of him, to prove that he is the rightful owner of you, all of you, every shimmering shade of you.The sentiment would be almost derisive if not so loving, so noble, and yet you dismiss it with three, chaste kisses upon the outline of his profile — against his forehead, the notch on the bridge of his nose, and finally his lips, warm and inviting.

“I’m certain.” You promise, merely a breaths width away from his lips.

You have never been more certain of a decision in your life, desperate to feel him nestled deep inside you, to blur the line where he begins and you end. Your fingers curl around the base of his cock, their pressure neither here nor there as they coax a hiss out of him, and you line him up with your entrance, tossing your head back as you waste no time breaching your needy hole with the bulbous head of his cock.

It’s blindingly clear that you have been given the reins, what with Tom’s finger’s seeking refuge in the soil beneath him, a low groan rumbling beneath his chest, his eyes rapt with an unspoken urgency as they survey the spot where you connect, and you relish in your paramount. Your knees dig deeper into the ground as you lower yourself onto him, and with little resistance, your walls steadily welcome inch after inch with a searing embrace, etching every delicious ridge and vein of his length to memory until he bottoms out, and you’re left with an overwhelming sense of fullness. There is a dull pain laced in the stretch of your opening, intermingling with the remnants of your last orgasm, and as you twitch and pulse around his girth, he appears like an dream before you, sifting through a thick haze of desire, wispy curls clinging to the thin sheen of sweat coating his forehead, and eyes blown wide with ripples of pleasure, of lust, that long to be indulged.

Once you’ve adjusted to him, you test a few shallow, tentative rolls of your hips, lifting yourself off the tiniest bit before filling yourself up again. He just feels so perfect, like god spent a little extra time molding him just for you, rubbing against parts of you that have never known such ecstasy until now, and you struggle to find a rhythm amidst all these new, dizzying sensations. “Poor little thing, you’re so worked up, you barely know how to take my cock.” It’s funny, how he can make such degrading words sound so sympathetic, and regardless, your body responds long before your brain can register, wildly spasming around his cock. It doesn’t take long for his fingers to return, digging into the curve of your hips to assist you, working you over his length in long, plundering strokes that steal the air from your lungs. “That feel better, angel?”

“Mhmm,” you shakily nod your head, fingers finding purchase in the broad expanse of his shoulders as you dig your nails into the freckled expanse, flooding his senses with the weak little uh, uh, uh’s tumbling from your lips each time you’re impaled on his cock. If he could lap up every hitch of your breath, every wayward sigh, he’d be drunk off the height of your unbridled joy. Hell, he can barely sustain himself as is, ravenously lapping up the beads of sweat clinging to your temple, swirling his tongue around your earlobe in its descent. Yes, yes, he’s swept up in sultry waves of you, and as your pelvis kisses his, as the air is filled with the sounds of your hips snapping against his own, he’s less and less concerned about emerging from your enchanting depths. “You got another one for me, angel? I can feel you squeezing my cock, baby, I know you got another one.” He’s delirious, clawing at the altar of your hips, and nowhere near as close to finishing as you are, but god is he eager to tear another orgasm out of you.

You, on the other hand, are a furnace, taunting flames of embarrassment licking up your insides, pooling in the small of your back, racing up your cheeks, at such arduous lengths as to mix with the coil of pleasure tightening in your core. Tom seizes the opportunity to find some leverage, pulling his knees up to rest on either side of you, planting his feet on the ground so that he can thrust up into your sopping cunt at a punishing pace, and you both can already feel the tell-tale signs of your building pleasure. “It’s okay, Y/N, you can let go.” Nothing more than a faint whisper, you indulge in the way his cock massages your inner walls, how your name sounds so filthy, yet beguiling, as it slips from his slightly ajar lips, how it blends so well with the weak little moans of his own name rolling off your tongue. “Let go for me. I wanna feel that perfect little pussy cum all over me.” His hand dips between your sweat slick forms, firmly swiping his fingers over your hypersensitive bundle of nerves, turning circles into your favorite shape, and his change in position makes the crown of his cock curve into your g-spot each time he pounds into you — so your helpless to the crescendo of pleasure that washes over you. 

A broken, startled shriek tears through your lungs, and you topple over his thighs, digging crescent shaped indents into his knees as you surrender to your climax, walls fluttering and contracting over his length as he works you over the edge.

“Oh, what a good girl.” He coos encouragingly, reaching his hand out to cup the weight of your breast, swiping his thumb over your peaked bud as his pace eases up, and it isn’t until now that you realize he’s leaning back, holding himself up by his forearms while he drinks in your pleasure-ridden form. “My sweet, sweet girl.” You can tell he’s holding back by the way his hips still stutter up into your overstimulated heat, how his cheeks, his forehead, all of his features are set with a heavy flush, how you aren’t filled to the brim with his cum — and you simply won’t allow that. 

“It’s okay, Tommy.” You whisper, carefully lowering yourself until your chest is aligned with his own, sharply exhaling as you feel him push up against your tender core. Your eyes are soft, and dazed, and oh so pretty, glittering beneath a thin layer of unshed tears, but this is about him, it’s always been about him, and as his cock twitches amidst your spasming walls, you firmly believe that you can handle another orgasm if he can coax it from you.  “Keep goin’, it’s okay. I want you to fill me up. I wanna feel all of you.”

“Y/N—” His voice is stern, but your lips are fierce, stealing whatever argument may have been building in the cavern of his mouth as you weakly tilt your hips downward, offering yourself to him once more. When he muscles up enough strength to tear himself away, he only finds a bounty of understanding, of devotion, of love, teeming at the brim of your eyes, and he needs no words to indulge himself, to yield to a mesmerising whirlpool of you, you, shimmering you.

Tom wraps one arm around your back, holding you close to his chest while you scatter soft, lingering kisses to his shoulder, smoothing his palm over your damp tresses as he hoists one leg over his hip, prying your legs even further apart so he can fuck up into you — impossibly tighter, and tormentingly more responsive as he slams into your overstimulated cunt. You can feel every square inch of him now, every long sweeping vein, the tiny sliver of skin hidden beneath his tip, it’s all crystal clear as he plunges into your weepy core, and you’re so cockdrunk, so fucked out of your mind, that you don’t even notice your hips slanting down to meet his thrusts. You’re just that greedy for another orgasm, hellbent on tumbling over yet again as he fills you to the brim.

It doesn’t take long for him to work himself to that precipice once again, the coil in his stomach pulled taut with your whimpered chant of his name, with each strong pulse of your cunt tightening over him. He buries himself to the hilt one last time, stuttering into your hips with a loud, frenzied groan, and finally teeters off the edge, dragging you down with him as you sink your teeth into his shoulder blade, pumping his hot seed into you, coating your walls with hot spurts of cum as you milk him for every last drop, the crude sound of your arousal mixing with his own making you shudder.

You both lay there for a second, safe in each other’s warm embrace, basking in the aftermath of your fortuned affair, and you cowered beneath the sky and it’s constellation clad ceiling, feeling infinitesimal, but oh so contented, beneath its glorious gaze. There, wrapped up in one another, two splintered halves mending, healing, into the whole they were destined to become — the sky was but a star in comparison to your light, your bright, everlasting light.

How did we get here? You wonder. How, oh, how is he finally mine?

You follow the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way the moon lounges across his curly lashes in a silver chaise — you survey him at his most vulnerable — and determine that you have more than enough time to find the answer. As long as he’s here, by your side, you don’t plan to wander too far.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! PLEASE LIKE, OR LEAVE A COMMENT, IF YOU ENJOYED!

TAGLIST: @devotion @reawritesthings​

[httpsaiki]

Saiki with an s/o who just cups his cheeks and tells him they live him for the first time ever.

Hi! This is adorable, thank you so much for this request!! I did a story, not headcanons and it kind of got off track, but I hope you like it!

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I went into way too much detail about cupcakes in this, I got carried away, oops. I'm back, though! After months I finally refound my love for this show and along with it my inspiration for writing! I hope this isn't too bad, I wrote it all in one go. I have been writing a personal project, but I doubt I've improved that much in the last couple months. Thank you if you read this! I hope to have more to post soon!

Reader is gender neutral!

WC: 1533

Italics represents Saiki speaking telepatically!

Saiki with a S/O who cups his cheeks and tells him they love him for the first time.

—————————————————–

Your week had been anything but easy. Balancing a school and social life wasn’t supposed to be easy, sure, but this was getting ridiculous. It seemed every assignment was due at some point this past week and every class had some sort of test or exam. On top of everything, your friend group decided it was the perfect time to meet up to study nearly every single day. It was completely and entirely exhausting. You hardly got a free moment to yourself.

To make matters worse, you hadn’t seen Kusuo the entire time. He was part of your friend group, yeah, but by some miracle, he managed to dodge every study session. It was almost like he had superpowers. On most weeks like this, Kusuo was the only thing that could get you through it, being around him was oddly healing - even if he’s a jerk about it sometimes, you miss him dearly. He had some sort of ability to keep you calm and content, just being around him was enough to relieve some of the day's stress. Kusuo was there for you no matter what, whether he was willing to admit that or not. You knew it to be true and he knows you know. That’s enough.

You could feel him rolling his eyes if you were to tell him anything you just thought, that is. That never stopped you, though, you needed to make sure he knows you care for him. No, care is not a strong enough word. You’re sure you love him, there’s no doubt in your mind. How can you go about telling him? He of all people definitely deserves to know he’s loved.

Plotting how you’d tell Kusuo that you love him turned out to be a fantastic stress reliever. Laughing all you want about the cheesy, made-up scenarios you come up with did wonders to calm you down. Anything from a mock proposal on the beach, to screaming it off a cliff. Most of them weren’t realistic, nor to either of your tastes. But they were fun, and that’s all that mattered. You finally decided on telling him the one way you knew he’d like best. Sweets. Content with your idea, you prepared for bed. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

You woke bright and early. So early, in fact, that the sun had hardly even began to rise. There was work to be done. Quietly, you made your way down to the kitchen, careful enough not to wake anyone up. You decided on a quick and easy breakfast, you could never go wrong with toast. While the bread was toasting, you got out cupcake trays and your cake recipe, reading it over and gathering any ingredients you need. You left any ingredients that needed to be refrigerated in the fridge but prepared measuring cups and bowls for them. Anything that didn’t need to be kept cold was put into the appropriate bowl - wet or dry. As you were measuring out the last of your dry ingredients, you heard a faint pop from the toaster and decided it was time to take a break and eat. Your toast was surprisingly good, probably because you felt you worked for it.

Now was for the easier parts, combining the rest of your recipe and then pouring it into the cupcake trays. You went about your day, waiting for them to finish baking and then cool down. Once they were cool, it was around lunchtime. The perfect time to finish them up with icing. Carefully, you took your time to write out “I love u Kusuo!” Putting each character on its own cupcake - unfortunately having to shorten the “you” so that it would fit on the 12 of them. To add a final touch, you added a couple small heart candies onto some of them. They looked great and you were proud of your work.

As soon as the cupcakes were packaged up and ready to go, you headed immediately out the door. Kusuo didn’t usually like when you showed up suddenly or unannounced, but you carried treats and an important message this time. You were sure he wouldn’t mind too much.

The walk to his house was uneventful as always. You were lucky enough not to run into anyone you knew on the way there. You didn’t want to have to explain yourself and a small part of you expected that running into somebody would only strike disaster - similar to the past week. There was a small skip in your step on the way there, happy to finally see Kusuo after that long, painful week. You didn’t let any of your nerves get to you. Kusuo would take your message well. He had to.

Or, that’s what you were telling yourself as you nervously stood at his doorway. Ringing his doorbell had never been so frightening. You braved it, though, and your finger found its way up to his doorbell. The muffled ring could be heard even from the outside and approaching footsteps that sounded awfully familiar came shortly after.

When the door opened you were greeted with the face you craved to see all week. He looked as unbothered as ever, but the second he stepped aside and his arm gestured to let you in you knew he was happy to see you. With a smile on your face, you went to step inside and-

Apparently, your awful week had yet to cease. Right as you walked in the door, towards Kusuo, your foot caught the bottom of the doorframe. You tripped on it, the box of cupcakes falling along with you. "Oh!” It came out choked and as if you hadn’t meant to say it at all, “No!”

You quickly peeked inside of the box. The icing writing you had worked so hard on was smudged, no longer legible. They were still edible, but the message had been erased. Kusuo was staring down at the cupcakes, an almost puzzled expression on his face. He kept the same expression as his eyes met yours.

“Sorry,” you apologized quickly, “they were for you, I didn’t mean to- to make a mess of them.”

Kusuo only nodded, but it was enough to tell you there was no problem and you hadn’t even needed to apologize. He wasn’t mad.

“Listen, Kusuo I,” you cut yourself off, now that the cupcakes weren’t an option how did you want to tell him?

“Screw it.” You muttered under your breath as you stood up from the ground, dusting yourself off. Now back on your feet, you quickly reached up, placing both your hands on Kusuo’s cheeks. Your thumbs found their way right on his cheekbones, running softly along them. The rest of your fingers could reach to his hair and you had to resist completely tangling them in it. His expression was entirely neutral once more, at the very least he wasn’t offended by your actions.

“I really love you, Kusuo.”

He smiled. He actually smiled. It was genuine, it was beautiful, everything you could’ve asked for and more. His hands were in your cheeks too at this point and he had an uncharacteristically intense look in his eyes.

“I really love you, too.”

Such a simple statement and yet you could feel your cheeks burning up from it. Even worse, his hands were on his face so he could feel it too. He was so close, still smiling at you. You’d never imagined his face was capable of making such a dopey, lovesick smile and yet here he is. And then he hugged you. Tight. He’d never held you like that before, it was so loving and warm. It hardly lasted a couple seconds, so short that you were almost sure you imagined it. As soon as you registered it, it was over, and Kusuo’s normal, unbothered expression remained on his face.

“We shouldn’t let your hard work go to waste, should we? Want to come enjoy these with me?” Kusuo moved down to pick up the box, staring down at them in admiration even if they were a mess by now. You didn’t bother to reply to him, still slightly in shock. You chose to simply follow after him into the other room as he placed the box on a table. Kusuo wasted no time in grabbing one of the cupcakes, his signature sweets-eating-face taking over as soon as he took a bite. It was endearing, to say the least. As if he sensed your hesitation, he nudged the box towards you, encouraging you to take one as well. Despite their state, they still tasted amazing, all your hard work really paid off.

The rest of the day was spent comfortably. You refused to leave Kusuo’s side after everything that happened. You took to ranting about your week and how much you missed him while sat comfortably next to him, right where you wanted to be. Maybe the past week was worth it. You finally got to tell Kusuo you love him and got plenty of time together to make up for it. It had been bad, but like all the times before, Kusuo had a way of making you feel better.

[danddymaro]

Thankfulness | Jean Pierre Polnareff x Reader

Aftermath of the final battle with DIO

Angsty, but ends well

Romance? Perhaps more friendmance?? (IDEK lol)

Flashbacks are in italics : Example

Thoughts are italics  in quotes : ‘Example’

Word count : 2299

Thankfulness

Her (e/c) colored eyes blankly dropped down to the thin layer of blankets covering her lap, and all the while, the deep (e/c) colored hues were dimmed, holding a much duskier tone than they had possessed just a few days ago.

Her bottom lip trembled before it was caged between her two rows of teeth, the woman keeping it crushed between the pair of sharp edges before she swallowed down a horridly tart taste that was very faint, yet familiar. 

As the fine ends of her teeth began to dig into the flesh of her lip furthermore she could taste a hint of metal, and she was so close to having it splash into her mouth that she could feel her stomach clench, twisting and turning as it spun to retch the contents back up as soon as it traveled down.

'Blood...' She inwardly thought to herself, holding spite to even the word itself.

Her right hand trembled as she fisted it over the sheets until the material on her lap was wound in a tight ball, and soon after, harsh pants resonated from her as she tried to calm herself down. 

'Blood...All of their blood...' She inwardly rambled, trying to rid herself of the thought.

Whereas silence would bring any other person calm, it only brought her more distress, her entire body raking with shutters as she tried to calm the voices in her head, the very ones that were so familiar and precious, it brought her actual pain. 

'Did...Did we really win?' she asked herself, struck by a reality that felt as though it'd been basked by defeat. 

' because It doesn't feel like it.' She then added, slowly hanging her head, a small, almost inaudible sound that was akin to a croak escaping her parted lips.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

As his eyes fell onto her, he dropped the small flower arrangement, quickly making it to her bedside in a single leap, his eyes brightened by the sight of her finally conscious. 

The man had waited what felt like an agonizingly long eternity to finally meet her again, and now that she was fully there, he could drop his shoulders down in relief, 

 " Thank goo-" he began to speak, but she cut him off quickly,

"- Who do you think you are? ," she said lowly, her voice sharp and seething, making his heart still as she used the tart tone with him, because rarely had he ever heard her speak with such venom.

She had been smiles and cheers, perhaps a clever tongue here and there, but it wasn't anything he really took to heart, and in the end, always found enjoyment in.

- But then again, that was all before their final battle in Cairo.

 "Mon Cherie…" he said softly, going to capture her hand when he stopped entirely, regretting doing so. 

An action that was always welcomed with a sweet, appreciative smile was abruptly stopped, and it was all because he simply couldn't continue. 

It was impossible to.

Retracting his own hand, he fisted it instead, keeping it close to his side as his face morphed into a hard etched grimace, one that was of regret.

"Go on right ahead," she invited him, looking up at him with wet (e/c) eyes, and for just a moment, the sizzling boil she felt calmed to show him more pain than rage,

 "why don't you take a hold of it?" She asked him, using the same, soft, delicate voice that quivered, urging him to answer in spite of already knowing why he held back, already aware of the factor stopping him. 

With guilt written over his face, he strayed his eyes from her for a moment, uttering once again the endearment, "Mon Cherie ...I…"

"You should have left me there," she breathed, her good hand falling over the side of her shoulder, gliding down to feel it mostly flat, a small bump which was all that was left over from her limb being the only thing there for her to find.

" You should have let him take all of me," She then added, desperately trying to hold back tears, because she knew that once they fell, there would be no stopping them. 

'Why did you risk yourself for me?' She asked herself, 'Why did you even bother?'

All the beautiful words he could utter to her would be nothing in comparison to the pain that would consume everything until her heart became a bitter black, and by that point, they both knew it.

But even then, he continued, 

"I'm glad you're alright," He said to her, and at that, she choked.

 "I should be dead!" She said in a strangled tone, "I miss the point of it all!" She added, closing her eyes tightly, and it damned her to feel the limb there, when she knew that in reality, it was nothing but a ghost now, existing only in her mind.

'I don't have an arm,' She thought to herself,  but that was the least of her grievances, 

 'I don't have Avdol. 

I don't have Iggy.

I don't have kakyoin here either.

They're all gone...but I'm still here...' She lamented, knowing that by that point, they were also just ghosts, exiting in her head, haunting her every thought. 

'Why...?' She asked herself, soon muttering the word in a breathy state, "Why?" She then asked the silver-haired male. 

"I'm missing the point of me still being here!" She heaved, "why am I still here when they aren't?" She asked him, wanting to know just how she, of the handful, was one of the lucky ones out.

' Kakyoin was smarter..., 

Avdol was much stronger…

Iggy was braver, a million times more than I am!' 

"- I froze! " She reminded the French male, " I could barely move...but I was the lucky one out?" She asked him, and as he watched her, his gaze slowly fell, his blue eyes filling with misery, because he couldn't console her when all throughout the events that occurred afterward, he wondered the same thing.

'It's a pain we'll all bear,' He silently spoke, 'not just you and I...but Mr. Joestar, as well as Jotaro.' he continued on, only finding one single certainty within all the doubt and pain that came from barely scraping by the battle.

"My luck wasn't to make it alive..." He started, "It wasn't to make it out alone," He told her.

"It was to somehow have made it out alive... with you in my arms," He revealed to her, remembering that after the battle with Ice it was his one solace.

 "It was to be able to make it out, only because I didn't want to lose you. 

-Because I didn't want their sacrifices to go in vain." he added with a  voice that wavered, holding a truth that was unmoved.

Even with a dark cloud raining over her, washing away all of her former illuminances, he couldn't look away from her. He spoke to her the only way he could, by looking directly at her, silently thanking the world for giving him the opportunity to do so. 

'Even with all this pain...

Even with the dimness in your eyes at this very moment...

Even if right now you feel resentment towards me...

You're still so beautiful. You still hold my heart.'

"I'm glad you're here," he assured her, bending down to pick up the fallen blossoms, the beautiful colors of the batch reminding him of their travel.

'The red reminds me of a comforting glow.' he thought while his eyes immediately gravitated to the most passionate color that was in the collection, looking down at it with fondness. 

'It's of his flames. 

it's of the ones he'd share with us to keep us warm.

it's of all the protection he provided, right until he last selfless moment.' he reflected upon as his body memorized the comforting warmness.

'And this flower here is the same mix of blue and violet, reminding me of loneliness that fades,' he added while thinking of the younger he'd traveled with, realizing that it was almost the same color as his eyes.

'It's of friendship I never thought I could attain,' he went on, musing at the thought of befriending such a young brat, one so different from him.

' And the thorns that protect this flower are mature, they're hidden beneath the young blossoms, underestimated and burrowed, but always there, hidden cleverly.

Sometimes they are a hassle, but after all this, I don't think I will ever find it in me to remove them,' He thought with amusement, his heart filled with comfort while knowing that the thorny vines of their group remained just as vivacious as ever. 

'And then there is this stubborn little shit,' He mused while looking down at a particular, little, yellow flower. Most of its petals were slightly withered, one even torn.

'I don't know how you made the final cut, but you did,' he wordlessly spoke to it, 'You really did fit in,' He then added, for just a moment, his thoughts straying to the expressly annoying beast that had traveled with them.

'Stupid dog,' he thought with fondness.

A black band snugly held the stems together, elegantly tied into a little bow, and he thought about the man that helped him pick it out, 

"This one's nice," Kujo commented, his index and middle caressing the silken material between the spaces of the fingers.

"Black?" Polnareff said with skepticism, staring at the ribbon with hesitance, "you really think it fits? I mean... it's such a morbid color," He questioned the younger, finishing off with a grumble. 

"...For a bouquet nonetheless," he added, having wanted to give something lovely to the woman, desiring to decorate the room with the various fragrances and colors to liven up the quiet space for when she woke.

'For this situation,' he went on, silently speaking as he watched Jotaro quietly marvel at the ribbon.

His sea colored eyes had dimmed, and for the time being, he looked like he wasn't really there, at least, not in mind.

"...I like it." Kujo repeated, breathing out the words in a flat state before he let a low, blue sigh leave him, one that temporarily washed away the grim thoughts.

"She'll like it,"  He then added, fully aware it was a color she liked, and much more, would more than likely be something she’d use to accessorize. 

'She'll put it in her hair. 

Or She'll wrap it around her neck in a little bow.

Or she'll just put it somewhere safe,' He thought with certainty, having discovered how much she appreciated the little things, 

'If she gets a hold of one soon, she might just stick it in a book,' He then added.

"this one for sure," He concluded, willing to bet on her loving it.

'- You're missing much more than I am,' Jean-Pierre recognized, watching her sit quietly, noiselessly observing the flowers. 

'Because right now... even while I'm still in mourning, I feel struck by luck, just a small hint of it,' He thought to himself, watching as gradually, a hint of a smile graced her gloomy features.

After the outburst, she'd seemed to calm, falling into a somber hush that soon mellowed, and he lived through every moment with her, not bothering to disrupt their peace with any words, because, after all, he understood where she came from.

Just then, the door to her room was tapped, signaling new visitors, 

"Coming in," Joseph said lowly, his expression changing from neutral, to completely elated,  

"Well, look who's up!" He exclaimed, shooting the female a grin, one that was wide and bright. 

Slowly, her eyes went up to watch him enter, witnessing the man's grandson also following in suit.  

At the very moment, her eyes met with the younger's sea green, and the action caused a small smile to find its way on his face, giving her a greeting that she took in with appreciation.

"Glad you're ok," the teen said with true relief, and even if he'd held back so much more, she could see the glow in his eyes that spoke much more than he could ever say.

‘I’m glad I didn’t lose you,’ Jotaro said in silence.

Again, she brought her eyes down where the sight of the flowers greeting her.

The little bouquet in her hand was gently held, and as she looked down at it, she watched the little blossoms capture little, fallen drops before they slid off of their petals.

'I'm not,' She corrected him, though not having the heart to tell him, because, she knew that really, he couldn't be in any better state.

'I don't think any of us really are,' She thought to herself, regretful for having attacked the silver-haired male as he'd greeted her, because she was certain he was also in pain.

By then, she'd become understanding of not only her grief but everyone else's.

"Me too," She then told them, not wanting to take for granted the chance she got, much more not willing to make the sacrifices that went in play go in vain. 

'I won't do that to you guys,' She thought with certainty. ' I won't do that to any of us.'

"Thank you." She said with gratitude.

'Thank you all...'  She added with a loving smile, the gratitude dedicated for everyone in the room, which included the ones there in body, as well as those who now traveled in their hearts.

She then found herself looking right at the blue-eyed male, her gaze especially sweet as it touched him, knowing that if there was one person she really had to thank, and it was him. 

'I think...I’m really glad to be here, because of all of you.' 

[divine-bangtan]

- sugar & spice (m) jjk & kth

➻ summary: “Your assistant Jungkook has been harbouring secret feelings for you, the sweet bakery owner, for some time now. But what will happen when Taehyung, handsome, smooth as ever and mysteriously new to town comes along to sweep you off your feet?”

➻ Kiki’s Delivery Service!AU

➻ word count: 20.8k

➻ pairing: older baker!reader x baker assistant Jungkook x upperclass Taehyung.

➻ warnings: angst, reader doubts herself a lot, unprotected penetrative sex (pls keep this a fantasy only and wrap it), oral m. and f. receiving, spitroasting, creampie...hehe, food play, mentions of mxm, pregnancy, pregnant sex, lactation, squirting, anal fingering, anal sex, double penetration, daddy kink, and somehow also tooth rotting fluff.

➻ A/N: Thank you to my lovely cutie pie and fellow cherry koo enthusiast @gingerpeachtae​ for beta reading this for me! 🍒💜 The age of the reader is totally up to you! I’m absolutely in love with this AU, it’s the fluffiest yet the filthiest thing I’ve ever written yet. If you’re wondering about the time period, the film is set in a kind of alternate 30s though it’s not confirmed.

Moodboard I Music

It started with the gardenia. 

The first time Taehyung visited your bakery he had left behind a small white flower on the bakery counter when you weren’t looking, startling you in the most pleasant of ways when you nearly crushed it with your hand. You lifted the petals to brush the tip of your nose as you sampled the sweet scent, a blush warming your cheeks as you remembered how his charming smile had you flustered and fretful yet so endeared. However, what was not lost on you was the meaning behind it. Secret love.

 “...Miss?” A voice trailed off, disturbing you from your wandering thoughts and turning your attention to the customer right in front of you. “May I please get four apple danishes, a loaf of bread and a box of orange poppy seed muffins?”

“Sorry, yes of course! One moment please, hey Kookie?” You called in a singsong voice as you slipped into the back workroom. “We’ve got another order for orange poppyseed, how long will they be?”

Your part-time helper came in the form of Jeon Jungkook, but you liked to call him Kookie due to his sweet nature. He was six feet tall, ridiculously muscled and had an adorable bunny smile. He did most of the oven work, tending to the fires and cleaning in the kitchen, but helped you with some of the baking as well. He was particularly gifted at making the most exquisite citrus flavoured cakes, and had more recently been trying to perfect cream puffs.

 “Not long, noona. They’ve been very popular lately,” he mused, dimples etched deeply into his cheeks as he grinned. A smudge of black from the coal darkened one, and you couldn’t help but tut. 

“Of course they are, they’re delicious and it’s going to be spring soon...also you have soot on your face again, Kook,” you informed him, wiping it away with an endeared smile. The gentle tingle of the bell alerted you to another customer entering the store, and you hurried back out the front to continue running your popular business.

 “Sorry, the orange poppyseed will be ready soon. Are you happy to wait?” 

“Of course!” The young lady remarked, tilting to the left slightly to get a glimpse of Jungkook.

You remember the day he had come by your bakery, spotting the sign in your window stating you were looking for a kitchen hand. It was over three years ago now, the young man had just moved here for a change in scenery and was looking for a job. The picturesque seaside town provided the perfect scenery for his hobby of photography, and he was saving up to buy a better camera than the second hand one he currently owned.

It was astonishing how quickly he grew and matured in that time as well, hitting almost a second puberty and growing tall and filling out very nicely. The ladies in the town didn’t miss it either. It was a shame he was so shy around them, looking so out of place with a blush dusting his cheeks when he would catch a flock of them whispering to each other about if the cute baker was seeing anyone. They certainly weren’t coy about the way they would stare at his bulging biceps as he hoisted around the large trays of steaming fresh bread loaves, or wouldn’t hesitate to ogle his behind when he squatted to reach the lower shelves behind the counter. If only he could get a clue, but alas, he was absolutely oblivious.

After about ten minutes Jungkook emerged from the back room to refill the glass display with his cakes that would no doubt be gone within the hour. He handed the young lady a bagful, and flustered when her fingers brushed a little boldly over his.

 “These are really delicious, Mr. Jeon. I would even dare say they’re my favorite. Perhaps you’d like to join me later and we can share them?” She asked him, a glint of hope in her eyes at the way he gawked at her. 

From how pretty she was, you didn’t blame him. In fact, a tiny inkling of jealousy unfurled within you, wishing that you could have handsome men line up the way women did for him. Sure, the young man may have wiggled his way into your heart, setting down roots that began small but steadily grew, but he didn’t seem to return your fledgling feelings. A small smile found its way onto his face - nothing like the one you got from him every morning when you opened up the shop together - but nonetheless he was still smiling at her. 

“Or you could even give me a private lesson on baking? I just had my kitchen redone, it’s so grand.” The young woman suggested, but it was when he started becoming flustered for a response that you realised how uncomfortable he was, and how grotesque and ugly it was for you to be jealous in the first place. “The bench is just the perfect he-”

“I’m afraid Jungkook is working right now, and business is really quite demanding at the moment,” you interrupted, causing her sweet expression to sour. “Remember the wedding at the end of the week? We’ve got a lot of orders to finish up on.”

If looks could kill, you’d surely be six feet under from the bitter expression she shot at you. She huffed and gathered her things, leaving without her usual generous tip. Upon her disappearing from sight, Jungkook let out a long breath, shoulders slumping in relief.

“Thank you noona, I really didn’t like the direction that conversation was taking,” he murmured, looking off into space like he was having a traumatic flashback before shuddering violently. “I can close up shop, you should have an early finish for once, you work too hard.”

You opened your mouth to protest but he shushed you, insisting. “No really, I got it covered. Thank you again, noona.” He swooped in to peck you on the cheek before pushing you toward the back. Powerless against his inhumane strength, you had no choice but to be ushered halfway up the stairs before he bounded back down and returned to the shop.

When you reached the top of the stairs your black cat Jiji was quick to rub around your ankles, purring and meowing for food. You chuckled softly at his dramatic antics, more than once having to shoo him away as you fill his bowl with wet food, scraping the bottom of the tin. Some got on your fingers and you scrunched your nose in distaste, wiping your dirty fingers on your apron before untying it and placing it in your washing basket, absentmindedly wondering what you could do.

You supposed you could always finish off the spread for the wedding pastries and, most importantly, the cake. Sketches were strewn across the coffee table, and you sat down on the couch with a huff, vowing to finish it by tonight. Your eyes were drawn to a photograph of the couple, arms around each other in a sweet embrace as the photo was taken. It was the day they were examining the potential wedding venue, you remember how she gushed about the amount of flowers in the garden when she left you the photographs. Her wedding cake was to be white and have lots of iced flowers on each tier, it was simple yet so beautiful. She seemed happy. You wondered when you would find someone who would return your love the way her fiance seemed to, if his look of adoration was anything to go by. Then you remembered the gardenia, and how you met the young man you gave it to you.

It was getting quite late in the day and your shop normally had a few stragglers around this time, however, this evening it was empty. You had your head stuck in the display case, reaching far in to wipe down each shelf. The soft ringing of the bell on your door didn’t reach your ears, nor the footsteps that made their way to the counter. 

You jumped in fright when a face appeared in front of yours, slightly warped through the glass. He stared for a moment too long before you hurriedly freed yourself, dusted off your apron and smoothed any frizzy baby hairs you knew would probably be sticking up. He was impeccably dressed in a white shirt with a button up vest that was almost gold in colour, shimmering in the afternoon sun. From the looks of his attire he surely came from money. As his head turned to the side you noted he had a lovely profile and the rest of his facial features were mostly symmetrical. Lucky bastard, you knew many people who would kill for the natural beauty he so effortlessly possessed, the type of beauty that simply couldn’t be bought. However, the small signs of weariness did not escape you as his eyes took in your little shop. Finally, they landed on you and strangely you felt the need to squirm.

“Good evening, sir,” you greeted politely, wondering if he would be entitled like most of the good looking, rich folk.

He stepped up to the counter. “I hope I’m not keeping you, am I? If it’s too late, that's alright. Though it would be a shame, I’ve been told very good things about this place and I’m exhausted.” His jacket was slung over one arm, hair wind ruffled and a pair of thin wire glasses balanced upon his well-set central nose. It wasn’t unusual for wealthy people to pass through this coastal town on their travels, though they rarely came this late to the bakery. 

“No no, I’m not one to turn away a valued customer, what can I get for you?”

“Coffee please, I’m dead on my feet and I need to stay awake for a little longer.”

You nodded, well practiced hands already beginning to brew his drink. “Long journey? I take it you’re not from around here, and we do get a lot of travellers.”

“Very observant, Miss. I’ve just arrived to manage the large branch of my father’s shipping company that’s located in this coastal town. I was told it had very pretty scenery, but nobody told me it also has very pretty bakers here.” He remarked with a sly grin and you almost lost your grip on the coffee cup at his brazen compliment. He chuckled softly at your lack of response, not wanting to make you too flustered. “May I sit?”

“O-Oh, yes. Of course,” you stammered, kicking yourself for your stuttering. You were normally a fairly confident girl, yet all it takes is one handsome stranger to reduce you to this? Get a grip. He bowed softly in thanks, before turning and draping his jacket over the back of one of the chairs. You found your line of sight wandering down his back to the behind of his well tailored suit pants. The ladies in the town are going to eat him alive in the morning, he’ll soon forget about you and this little place. Yet, you found yourself slipping a small vanilla slice onto the plate beside his cup as a little welcome gift, adamant that you weren’t trying to impress him.

“Thank you,” he said, sounding more than a little tired. Incapable of thinking up a coherent response you bow quickly, spotting the fingerprints all over the glass of the display cabinet and set to work cleaning them. A soft groan makes you whip your head back around to look at him, did he get hurt? What if you made his coffee too hot and he burned himself or his tongue? His face was scrunched up almost as if he was in pain and he licked his lips a few times, seeing them moisten from his tongue caused you to swallow hard.

“Oh wow - this, is this vanilla?” He suddenly asked, and your eyes widened,  he seemed more alert and staring at you now that his cup was empty. “I’m more of a dark chocolate person but my my, this is delectable. Normally I don’t drink coffee, but given how exhausted I was it was welcomed. The sweetness of the vanilla balanced it out perfectly, thank you. How much is it?”

“Oh no! The slice is on the house, consider it a little welcome to town gift,” you insisted.

His sweet expression faltered and he tutted, standing slowly and gathering his things. “If you aren’t going to tell me then I suppose this will have to do,” he sighed, pulling out a note far too large for the price of any of the little pastries in your shop from his wallet.  You gasped and went to grab it and give it back to him, but he snatched it away before his other hand captured yours and the money was pressed into your palm along with...something else? Before you could think of what it might be, he lifted your hand and pressed a kiss to the back.“It was lovely to meet you, Miss...?”

“Oh, um. Y/N.” 

“Y/N...what a beautiful name.” With that he left the bakery, disappearing into the dust pink evening, the little bell attached to the door softly jingling. You realised your hands were trembling from the press of his petal-soft lips, and when you opened your palm to look at the money there was also a small white flower. A gardenia? Where did he get that from?You hadn’t seen any around town.

You picked up the slightly dried-out flower from a few days ago, twirling it in your fingers and smiling when you could smell it still held a strong aroma. The fresh one from this afternoon was still in your apron pocket, and you fished it out from the washing basket gently, trying not to damage the petals. An idea popped into your head for scent bags, and you jumped up to rummage through your shop supplies for a brown paper gift bag. 

It hung in your wardrobe nicely, and would make your clothes smell lovely. He’d only given you two, but maybe he was going to bring one every time? Where were they even coming from? He- you stopped your little tangent of thoughts, cursing yourself for getting so hopeful. Surely he pulled that trick with every young woman he met. You weren’t going to lie, the second time he left you a flower you got your hopes up. But the amount of women who walked about the town with a flower in their delicate gloved hand gave you your doubts.

As a distraction  you threw yourself into your work, finalising the ingredient lists, accounts, designs and much more for the wedding cake and patisseries. Your mood was lifted somewhat, after all, that was your passion. Many days as a child you had helped your grandmother in her little kitchen. You reminisced back to the days where she taught you the secret recipe for her pumpkin scones, now one of your bestsellers.

Some time later you decided enough was enough, as your eyes grew heavier and increasingly difficult to keep open. The rest of your work could wait until tomorrow and you gladly flopped down on your awaiting bed, resting your stinging eyes for five minutes. The lamp on your bedside table casted a soft glow about the room, and you didn’t remember drifting off to sleep.

Soft chirping met your ears, muffled on one side where your face snuggled into the pillow. You groaned when something wet and feather light brushed against your cheek a few times. A louder, more piercing meow made you crack your eyes open to meet large green ones, a rumbling purr starting.

“Morning, Jiji.”

Your limbs were stiff and aching, you almost thought they might creak like the old wood of your floorboards if you were to stretch a little too hard. A huff of discomfort left your lips, annoyed at yourself for nodding off so easily without washing or even brushing your teeth. As you rose from the double bed in your small yet comfortable upstairs flat, your muscles protested but you gripped the ensuite bench for support, working hunched over your coffee table for long periods of time never ended well. However, it’s where you seemed most focused. Wincing when you took in your unruly hair and puffy under eyes in the mirror. Nonetheless, it was nothing a warm shower couldn’t fix.  

The steaming hot water ran over your shoulders and felt like heaven, relaxing the tension and chasing away that early morning chill that was only just leaving as spring fully came around.You lathered a generous amount of shampoo and your favourite sweet smelling conditioner which you only used for special occasions, such as if you were going to bump into a certain special someone today. 

Loud meows came from outside your bathroom, only increasing in volume as you cracked the door open, still toweling off your damp locks. “Okay okay, at least let me get dressed first. Stop acting like you’re going to starve, I actually think you’re getting a bit fat Jiji,” you mused as you finished pulling the dress over your head. Your eager feline bounded into the kitchen, and you went to follow only to jump in fright as you entered the living room. 

Curled up on the couch that was a little too short for him was a fast asleep Jungkook, looking so peaceful with his cheek squished against one of your too hard decorative pillows. Jiji trotted over to the couch, jumping up without a care in the world and sniffed at his face. Jungkook’s nose wrinkled at the wet ticklish sensation, cracking his eyes open and moving to sit up. When he spotted you looking at him through half asleep eyes, he froze. You quickly thanked the heavens you hadn’t walked into your living room without any clothes on as you sometimes do. 

“Did your bicycle chain snap again, Kook?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, the hair on one side of his head sticking up, not looking you in the eye as he nodded sheepishly. You sighed, this was the third time now and you were becoming angry with the repairs shop. “That’s it, I’m buying you a new one or something, anything would be better. I know you’re attached to that thing but it’s so old now. I just don’t want you getting stranded,” you fussed softly, pinching his chin and making him look at you. “Now go wash up while I make us some breakfast. There’s some clean clothes of yours in the laundry that you never took home, you can change into those.”

“Thank you noona, really.” He beamed, pulling you in for a warm hug that instantly had you melting into his embrace. Your hand found its way into the back of his long dark brown locks, scratching his scalp softly drawing a shiver from his large frame. Unconsciously his arms tightened around you and you let out a soft noise, causing Jungkook to release you instantly. He murmured a soft apology, scrambling downstairs to the laundry. You laughed to yourself at how funny he could be sometimes, blissfully unaware at the fact that he was running away so you wouldn’t spot the rapidly growing tent in his pants. 

A short while later he emerged from your bathroom, still shivering slightly from the cold water but he was feeling extra refreshed. The appetizing smell of whatever you were cooking wafted into his nostrils and he plopped down at the kitchen table while toweling off his wet hair. His eyes followed your figure as you moved about the kitchen, and the domesticity of it all made his heart flutter. How he wished things would be like this every morning. 

He knew he was staring again, openly admiring your side profile and his eyes couldn’t help the way they trailed further down. You had a little stomach from all the sweet things you sampled, and Jungkook sometimes couldn’t help the way he stared at your hands smoothing over your apron. His mind wandered until he was imagining how beautiful you’d look pregnant with his baby. His cock twitched in his trousers at the mental image of your belly swollen as you squirmed naked on soft white sheets, whining softly for him to fill y-

“...Kook?  Jungkook!” You yelled out, waving a wooden spoon in his direction and his jaw snapped shut and he sat up straighter. “There you are, you sure do zone out a lot, don’t you? For the third time, can you set the table please?” He stood up a little too quick almost causing the chair to topple over, and you laughed softly. He was an odd one alright. “Must be interesting things you’re daydreaming about,” you mused while serving the eggs onto the plates, and it was a good thing your back was turned or you might have seen the way Jungkook almost dropped the cutlery all over the floor.

Later that day you were busy finishing up with another customer, carefully placing the cakes you had finished icing this morning into her basket.

“Fourteen gold pieces, please. I hope the party goes well, I can’t believe he’s seven already,” you remarked as you placed the coins into the blue register. The two of you gushed over her adorable son, who peeked at you over the top of the counter, and you quietly slipped him a small cookie while his mother wasn’t looking. He shyly thanked you, and you were so enraptured in his chubby little cheeks that you didn’t notice the way all conversations around the bakery fell silent for a moment. The little bell on the door rung, signifying someone had entered and you noticed the movement in the corner of your eye but ignored it in favour of waving goodbye to the little boy. He waved cheerfully in return, a small bite already taken from the biscuit, his other hand clasped in his mother’s and you sighed. Children were something you’d wanted for a while, but you tried not to dwell on it as you wiped away the crumbs left on the counter.

After a moment you grabbed your notepad from the pocket of your apron, rounding the counter and making your way to the table where the new patron had seated themselves moments ago. However, you stopped abruptly when you recognised him as the man who had left you the flower not long ago. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in his profile. He settled into his chair, leaning back and hooked an ankle over his knee so his legs were comfortably crossed, and the movement accentuated the slight bulge of his crotch. 

He placed a book on his lap and flicked through the pages, his hand coming up to adjust the thin wire spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose which had slipped a little, and from where you were standing you could see he had a little freckle on the tip. What was it with handsome men and having a cute little freckle? Jungkook had one under his lip which he often grumbled about being there, but you often told him it was rather endearing.

His tongue darted out to wet the tip of his finger and he smoothly flipped the page, the movement definitely drew your eye. Fuck, even his hands were beautiful, now you were nervous and your feet seemingly glued on the spot. The tip of your pen tapped against your little notepad, leaving small dots on the paper and you muttered angrily at your fidgeting. What were you so nervous for? He was just another customer, he never even told you his name. You took a tiny step forward, only to stop when you saw a young lady take a seat opposite him. 

Large doe-like eyes suddenly stopped in front of you, Jungkook’s mouth parted as he stared at you in confusion, that freckle now right in front of your eyes. “Noona? Are you okay?” He asked, a hint of concern evident in his tone. Your eyes dropped as you snapped out of your slight stuper, only to land on the swell of his bicep as he carried a tray filled with freshly baked bread. God, what was wrong with you? 

“Yeah of course! I just, um...realised something. Would you mind seeing if table four needs anything?” You risked a glance around Jungkook’s large frame, only to lock eyes with the man you’d just been staring at. The alluring chocolate colour of his eyes sent a jolt down your spine, and you jumped back behind your assistant. To make things less awkward you snatched the first thing that was in your sight as Jungkook moved away to place the tray down. You happened to grab the cloth you were just using thankfully, beginning to frantically wipe the side of the counter. God you were so stupid. Of course he was a complete flirt, he’d only been in town a few days and was already drawing in multiple women, yourself included, with his deceptive charm. 

You picked up a basket to wipe away at the crumbs underneath, but as you were putting it down a throat cleared beside you. The leather shoes that came into your view looked expensive, and your stomach dropped. As you lifted your gaze the curious expression on his face made you suck in a tiny breath, and unable to look away you dropped the basket back onto the counter. Unfortunately, it was too close to the edge and began tipping over, he surged forward suddenly to attempt to steady it behind you, effectively pinning you against the counter with his form. You gasped when suddenly his cologne bombarded your senses with warm, spicy cinnamon and...apples? The likely expensive scent made your knees feel weak, and the warmth of his arms pressed into your sides had your heart racing. His efforts were in vain, however, as the basket toppled to the ground, and small bread rolls scattered across the floor. 

The tip of his nose brushed against your scalp, and he hummed pleasantly. “Your hair smells lovely today, Miss (Y/N),” he observed, and you swear your heart was about to give out from how rapidly it was thundering in your chest. So he noticed.

“Oh, thank you Mr…”

“Taehyung. Mr. Kim if you please, but Taehyung will do just fine.” Even as he spoke ever so casually, he made no move to step back. 

His gaze dropped to your heaving chest as you were breathless from the proximity and palpable tension. Suddenly, it occurred to you that the neckline you had picked today was rather low cut, the fabric around your bust a little strained with each breath you took. 

You wanted to stay exactly where you were, quivering with excitement from being pressed right up against him. However, embarrassment got the better of you, a blush coming on strongly to your cheeks and you slipped out from the cage of his arms and kneeled to the ground. Thankfully, he couldn’t see your flushed state as you grabbed the pieces of scattered pastry. You felt unease rise within you when he crouched down beside you, dropping the bread back into the basket as well.

“Oh no, please don’t worry about that Mr. Kim. I can manage myself, besides this is my fault. Clumsy,” you scolded yourself quietly, shaking your head.

“No, it’s fine. I thought I might catch it but apparently my coordination is not as good as I thought,” he chuckled, silence filling the following moments as you continued to grab the bread. “You must keep pretty busy, huh? It’s a good thing you have your boyfriend to help you out.” 

Your eyes widened at his assumption. “Oh-no no, Jungkook’s not-he’s not my boyfriend. Just my assistant,” you explained, feeling your cheeks heat up again as you avoided his gaze once the two of you were standing, no longer crawling around the floor. The counter was covered in crumbs and flakes from the bread and suddenly you were very interested in picking at them. “I’m far too old to be his girlfriend anyway.” 

You couldn’t see the frown breaking out across Taehyung’s face, but as he opened his mouth to protest Jungkoook came striding over. “Noona, is everything okay? It’s not like you to drop good bread,” he questioned quietly, coming to stand just a little too close. The image of him acting like your guard dog came across your mind, hackles raised and ready to fight off any threats to his territory. You so wanted to be but you didn’t belong to either of them, they deserved much better. The young girl who was sitting with Taehyung only moments ago was looking over with concern at the tense atmosphere. Jungkook still stood uncomfortably close, silently challenging the man still standing in your personal space unabashedly.

“Yeah Kook, I’m good,” you replied, reaching out and gently patting his bicep. He looked at you suspiciously, not quite convinced but he nodded and slinked out the back anyway. Taehyung almost glared at Jungkook for another second before stepping back, however, he still stood quite close. Both of you hovered for a moment, you could sense he wanted to ask something. Not even a moment later, he did.

“The wedding this weekend, I was just wondering if you would be attending? Someone mentioned you were making the cake for it, among other pastries.”

“No,” you blurted out the obvious lie, all of a sudden taken aback by his question. Was he asking you out? The hairs on the back of your neck prickled as you sensed another pair of eyes on you, coming from his table.

“Oh,” he muttered, looking a little dejected. “So...you won’t be there? They’re friends of my family actually, so I’ll be in attendance.”

“No, sorry. I have another engagement, but Jungkook will be there!” You reiterated, not sure why you were lying to him. His expression soured momentarily, and another patron wandered up to the unattended counter. You were thankful for a way out and hurried away from the awkward conversation. He fidgeted with the brass button on his creaseless vest for a moment before slumping back into his seat. The nerve of that man! He had another girl with him, watching the whole thing unfold and he had the disrespect to practically ignore her. She certainly was beautiful, just like him. Definitely the type of woman that was more suited to him, rather than something so ordinary like you.

Jungkook came past just as you finished up with another customer, but you flagged him down before he could escape. “Oh Jungkook! I actually have a favour to ask of you…”

Stupid. That’s what you were. You sulked about the catering room, plating the little pastries for after the reception desert taking place soon. While you had an unmeasurable and intense focus when it came to your work, your passion, right now you couldn’t help but be on edge. The knowledge that Taehyung was around somewhere had your stomach churning with anxiousness at the thought of running into him, after blatantly telling him you wouldn’t be here.

At least, it wasn’t entirely a lie. You really thought you weren’t going to be here as Jungkook had eagerly agreed to be in your place right now. Part of you wanted to test what he wouldn’t do for you. However, when he came to tell you he’d actually been offered some photography work tonight you couldn’t help but notice the twinkle in his eye. That was something you couldn’t bear to take away from him. After you told him to accept the offer he halfheartedly protested, not wanting to disrupt your plans. But in truth you could tell he was disappointed he wouldn’t be able to go, and you weren’t having a bar of it.

So here you were, checking each iced flower on the tall wedding cake meticulously for any that had fallen off on the trip here. Every few seconds, however, you threw a glance over your shoulder for a certain Mr. Kim. 

“Y/N!” Someone behind you exclaimed, the voice definitely male and you froze, slowly turning to prolong the inevitable. When the groom’s face was the only one you could see your shoulders slumped in relief and returned his smile. “It’s...it’s beautiful, thank you so much. You’ve made my fiance very happy. Oops, wife I should say!” He quickly corrected himself, cheeks flushed red no doubt from the champagne, the glass he held fully and freshly bubbling.

“It’s certainly my pleasure. While I love baking itself there’s something so special in seeing where my goods go,” you observed, peeking out into the main hall where everyone sat about finishing the main course. “However, my work here is done I think.” 

Right as you finished speaking the bride wondered in looking for her now husband, the moment their eyes met a giddy smile broke out on both their faces. The action caused your heart to clench in your chest as she reached out and slotted her hand into his awaiting palm. He drew it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles and she looked away with a grin, suddenly noticing you standing there.

“Oh, Y/N! Are you leaving? Already? Won’t you stay for a drink?”

“I-um...maybe not.” You chewed on your lip. “I really must be going.”

“Just one drink, please?” She insisted, taking the glass from her husband and pushing it into your hand. When she pouted at you in such a way, it was hard to say otherwise.

Well... just one drink won’t hurt.

Two hours and definitely more than one glass of champagne later, you finally bade your farewell. A gust of chilly air rushed past you as you made your way outside, making you grip your arms where goosebumps were forming. God you wished you brought your jacket, how could you have forgotten? At least it was cooling down your cheeks which were flushed bright red and warm from the alcohol you’d had. There was no way you were driving home this evening, you’d have to call for a driver. Or perhaps you could walk as it wasn’t too far. Deciding the latter would be sufficient - and cheaper, not to mention - you set off in the direction of your bakery, weaving around the pedestrians on the footpath.

Other than the wind that picked up and drew a shiver from you, you began to think this wasn’t so bad - until your intoxicated form stumbled on an uneven paving stone. You hit someone square in the back, grabbing the back of their coat to steady yourself as you garbled a hundred apologies. By some miracle the man didn’t fall down and you thanked the heavens, only to take it back as he turned to look at your flustered face.

Low and behold, there stood the very man you were trying to avoid. Kim Taehyung.

“Miss (Y/L/N)? Well, what a pleasant surprise,” he said with a smirk, while embarrassment burned a hole right through you. “What brings you here?” Of course it was just your luck you’d bump into him - literally - right as you were almost out of there. He looked delectable as always, dressed head to toe in finely tailored clothing. His pants were pressed with a perfect crease down the middle of each leg, fine jacket fitting his broad shoulders perfectly. The hat he was wearing, however, captured your attention and you almost forgot he asked you something.

“Oh! I... um... well, you see, I-,” you managed to get out. Words! Use words you fool, you scolded yourself internally. Something about the man in front of you rendered you speechless, yet he only gave you a small smile and waited patiently for you to find your words, stepping back a bit and slipping his hands into his pockets. 

Still, your mind remained blank. The hilarity of the situation hit you and a giggle bubbled forth from your lips. You smacked your hand over your mouth, feeling your cheeks flush with warmth from the numerous glasses of champagne you’d downed. Taehyung looked at you with an endearingly curious expression, brows furrowing with a chuckle. 

“And what, pray tell, is so funny?” He asked quirking an eyebrow, the fact that you failed to answer him did not go unnoticed. You tried to speak but only more laughs came out until your shoulders were shaking with the action, tears welling in your eyes. 

“Your hat is very funny, why is it so strange? It’s lopsided, and flat. What’s this little thing on top?” You reached up to flick at it, not realising how close you had gotten until you softly bumped into his solid frame. 

“Woah, easy there (Y/N).” The words were whispered huskily right into your ear as he steadied you, and you found yourself trembling from his touch as you were caught off guard. “Wouldn't want you to trip and hurt yourself, now would we?”

“N-No, of course not,” you replied, flustered and he eyed you carefully. After a moment he released your arms to shuck off his jacket, and before you could blink it was dropped around your shoulders. The material felt expensive and warm and the delicious smell of his cologne filled your senses, the spicy scent of toasted cinnamon causing you to turn to putty.

“It’s cold tonight,” he observed, looking up to the cloudless sky. You followed his gaze, admiring all the bright stars twinkling in the twilight. This moment was something you wanted to treasure forever, where you stood thinking about nothing but now nice the sky looked and a beautiful man had offered you his jacket to keep you warm. Alas, it had to end eventually. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

His words brought you rushing back to reality, and you looked at him suddenly. “Oh, I was just going to walk but I can call for a driver it’s fine, rea-”

One stern look from him had you shrinking back into the jacket, he was not taking no for an answer and you nodded sheepishly. The hairs on the back of your neck stood to attention as a cold shiver gripped your bones, only intensified by an icy gust of wind. His hand slid across your shoulders, pulling you into his warm side as he guided you in the direction of where he must be parked. 

Being the gentleman he was, he opened the passenger seat door for you, and once you were safely in he slipped into the driver's seat. There was a long stretch of comfortable silence as he started the ignition and smoothly pulled out onto the road, his hand not on the steering wheel resting dangerously close to your thigh.

“The hat, it’s called a beret. My younger sister bought it for me while she was studying in France, I should have introduced her the other day.”

“The... other day? Have I seen her before?”

“Yes, in the bakery when our little... accident happened,” he reminisced with a small chuckle, once again finding amusement in your embarrassment.

Suddenly it dawned on you, the young girl he was sitting with when he came over to talk to you. That was his little sister. You were glad he didn’t, seeming as though you’d just made an absolute fool out of yourself in front of her. No wonder she looked so beautiful, they came from the same pool of blessed genes. Silence filled the rest of the journey, and before you knew it the car was no longer moving, Taehyung was opening your door for you again and you stepped out.

The heavy material of his jacket slipped from your shoulders and you handed it back to him as another chilly gust swept past. He accepted it gratefully, putting it back on immediately and shoving his hands back into his pockets. Well, it was now or never you decided.

“Would you… like to come in for a drink?” You offered before you could psych yourself out.

“I don’t really…” he trailed off and immediately you feared you had been too bold.

“Oh. That’s fine, no trouble at all,” you murmured dejectedly. 

“I mean, I don’t drink alcohol. Not if I can help it, I don’t find the taste very pleasant. That and I don’t hold myself well. Some tea would be much appreciated, though,” he proposed.

“Yes… yes, of course. It would be nice to warm up a little.” Uncertainty hung in the air, looming over your head for a moment too long before he nodded. 

“That would be very nice, thank you.”

Your hands fumbled with the keys, loud jingling making you wince as you missed the lock a few times. At this point you’d sobered up quite quickly, the shake of your hand being caused by your nerves betraying you instead of the champagne. It had been quite a good hour since your last glass and you were no longer feeling the effects. Taehyung’s warm hand closed over yours, steadying your shaking fingers and your breath hitched as the metal key slid smoothly into the lock. It was relatively dark and you were glad only the faint light of the streetlamp guided you as you cracked the door open, trembling in anticipation of what was to come. The two of you slipped inside the dark bakery, shoulders brushing as you turned to shut the door and lock it behind you. 

“So… what do you fancy?” You asked, turning to look at his figure which looked all the more enticing half in the shadows. “A cup of tea? Some chocolate croissants, perhaps?”

He only shook his head slowly, taking a step toward you. “What do I fancy, you ask? Well...you.”

“M-me?” You asked, your insides doing a flip in excitement.

“Yes. You like croissants? I bet you’d love Paris, so many incredible pastry chefs there, among… other things.”

“Oh?” 

“It’s a very romantic place, I could take you one day? I’d like that… ” he trailed off and you blinked quickly, unable to look away from his gaze.

“Not just for the pastries?” 

“Not just for the pastries, petal.”

He backed you up against the now locked door, eyes piercing yours with an intensity that made your abdomen clench; however, there was something else in his eyes. Something softer, and you felt that sweetness in the way he ever so slowly pressed against you. The first brush of his lips against yours was not hurried and needy like you expected it to be, and when he pulled away you felt an ache in your heart so strong it left you breathless. 

“Taehyung…” you whispered, breaths beginning to grow heavier as your nerves dissipated to be replaced by lust and longing. He whispered your name back, before sweetly capturing your lips once more, his tongue demanding entrance to explore your mouth which you easily granted. Your fingers fisted in the lapels of his jacket, creases forming in the perfectly ironed material as the feeling of his tongue forcing yours into submission drew a moan from you. A large hand cupped the back of your head so you didn’t hurt yourself as he pressed you harder against the door, the kiss growing hungrier with each lave of the hot, wet muscle. You guided him back, shuffling blindly around, neither of you daring to interrupt your locked lips or even take a breath. Your back bumped into the counter and finally you broke apart for air, looking at your surroundings, somehow you’d ended up behind the bakery counter.

Taehyung’s hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you flush to him, and the action drew a gasp from you as you were pressed right up against his solid, throbbing length. The searing heat of it could be felt even through the layers of clothing that still separated your flesh, and your pelvic floor clenched around nothing in retaliation. Suddenly his hold on you tightened and he hoisted you smoothly onto the counter with very little effort. Now that you were at his level he wasted no time in getting right back into it.

“I wondered why it is that you haven’t been swooped up by anybody yet,” he mused between the breathless kisses you’d been enraptured in, fingers still gripping at your soft flesh through the thin material of your dress. 

“There are plenty of other-mmf, pretty and young women in this town, certainly more attractive than I am. Why me?” you whispered against his lips, still pinching yourself that this was really happening. God, it’s been so long since you’d been with a man. His kisses trailed down your jaw, the warmth of his lips pressing into your sensitive neck. 

“Hmm, I suppose,” he hummed, pausing to nibble on the spot just below your ear and you tipped your head back to allow him easier access. “They are very much like flowers, blossoming under the male attention they so desperately crave. They’re only pretty to look at, but that’s it. They might as well be just an accessory. Whereas you, sweet thing, are so much more.”

“B-But... I’m a bit older than you. Doesn’t that bother you?”

“Not at all, I really don’t give a shit noona. If that’s something that really matters to people, then they’re shallow and can’t see past something that’s really not that significant.” He growled right into the shell of your ear, his nimble fingers finding the easiest way to remove your dress. You thanked the heavens that you normally close the blinds when you lock up, because Taehyung made quick work of stripping your clothes from your body.

You slid off the counter to kick off the garments that had pooled around your hips, throwing them away into an unknown corner of your shop. Goosebumps arose across your bare skin, and Taehyung’s seized the soft flesh of your hips, hand kneading and moulding, pulling you flush against his hardened cock. He was so warm, and he let out a strangled groan as you reached down to palm him over his trousers. At your coaxing, his cock only seemed to swell further, impossibly large now and he rocked in your hand for friction. The tug on his foreskin only made him moan more, and you were enjoying the way he let his guard down. His mouth found its way to your bare shoulder, sucking pink marks along your neck and collarbone so he quieted somewhat. 

You whimpered when his hands moved down to grab the globes of your ass, groping them and pulling the cheeks apart. Cool air hit your dripping centre and you whined louder, clenching around nothing again. Taehyung relinquished your neck to stand to his full height, smirking at your flushed and needy expression. His eyes trailed down to drink in your naked skin, but he was still fully clothed. Feeling a little exposed, you moved to cover up your bare body. After all, you had a sweet tooth and you did pack a few extra pounds as a result of that. Most of the time you didn’t care, however, in this moment you were particularly caught off guard and feeling a little self conscious. 

“Uh uh uh, I don’t think so sweetheart,” Taehyung purred, grabbing your hands that were snaking up your torso. “Don’t you dare hide yourself from me, not when you’re this beautiful.” He hoisted you back up onto the counter hastily, almost knocking over the jars of toppings and chocolate syrups you had left there. His hand snatched the glass bottle that almost fell, and he smirked like the cat that got the cream. “Caught it this time.”

Without warning he dropped the bottle on the bench and swooped down. His mouth closed over your nipple, hot and wet and you moaned at the feeling, hands coming up to bury themselves in his golden curls. Taehyung nipped and swirled his tongue around the peak with a growl that grew louder the harder you pulled on his hair, giving you no warning before switching over to the other one. Lithe fingers snaked up to pinch and twist your spit-slicked nipple, making you squirm underneath him. Now that both aching peaks were being lavished with attention you squirmed, no lover had ever spoiled you this much and it made you all the more eager to touch him too.

Your hands gripped at the lapels on his expensive jacket, uncaring if it would tear as you attempted to push it off his wide shoulders. He laughed softly against your chest as you whined, straightening up to slowly shuck the garment from himself, never taking his eyes off your heaving chest that was shiny from his ministrations. He peeled off his top half, tugging at his dress shirt until each button popped open slowly revealing smooth honey toned skin to your hungry eyes. Your fingertips reached out to smooth over his chest, bringing little goosebumps to the surface. He had such a lovely body, his pecs firm and full, yet the most delicate and defined collarbones you’d seen on a man. Taehyung’s shoulders were broad with a thick, vascular neck you just wanted to sink your teeth into, and to top it all off his jawline was chiseled like a work of art. Your palms trailed higher and you sat up so you could run them over the expanse of his shoulders and upper back. He shuddered at your ever so gentle touch; fingernails raking featherlight down his back, drawing a soft moan from his lips which you swallowed with your own. You dragged your nails over his hips and dipped the tip of your finger into his navel. He flinched at the action, his stomach clenching away. When you ran your palms over his abdomen he broke the kiss abruptly, turning his face to the side. He didn’t have the most defined stomach, yet you didn’t mind one bit.

“Taehyung, you don’t have anything to be ashamed of either,” you pressed a kiss into his jawline. “You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen,” you whispered into his skin. Except for Jungkook something in the back of your mind quipped back and a small sense of guilt arose within you. You knew he felt jealous of your interest in Taehyung, but that was something that could be dealt with another time.

The man standing in front of you turned back and pressed his lips to yours again, groaning when your hand slipped past the waistband of his underwear to grip his bare length. It throbbed as you gave it a few experimental strokes, satisfied at the way he let out an animalistic groan. His hand suddenly gripped your thigh, and he smothered you with his form until you had to let go of his length and lay back. His fingertips were likely leaving indents in your flesh but you didn’t care, not when he was so close to where you desired him most. “Please,” you whimpered breathlessly. His fingers parted your thighs, swearing softly when he touched your folds to instantly have his fingertips coated in your arousal. He paused, lifting them up to inspect them unabashed, drawing his fingers apart to look at the strings of slick. 

“Fuck. You want me that badly, huh? Such a good girl, so wet and eager for me.” His words made you clench, and he definitely felt it as he lightly ran his fingers through your soaked folds, admiring the way they glistened. Taehyung easily sunk two fingers knuckle deep into your heat, crooking them to seek out that sweet bundle of nerves. Needing to feel his lips on yours again you whined while leaning forward, begging him with your eyes. Quickly he obligated, ever the attentive lover. 

After a while your clit was throbbing, crying for his attention. He reached over into one of the jars next to the display cabinet, which you used to touch up any pastries that needed more powdered sugar. A generous amount gathered on the top of his thumb when he dipped it in, and before you could realise what he was doing that same thumb was planted firmly on your pearl of nerves. 

“Taehyung! Mmf, oh my god. That feels so good but you’re gonna give me a yeast infection, fuck.”

“Mmm, not if I lick you clean.” He swooped down, tongue lapping at the now gooey sugar that had somewhat dissolved with your wetness. He suckled at your juices, tongue swiping through your folds against his fingers that were still buried before he trailed up to your clit. His lips pulled the little bud into the hot, wet cavern of his mouth, the nibbling teeth causing your hips to jump at the stimulation. God, his tongue felt like heaven and sin all at once, never before had anyone made you feel this good. Certainly, you’d been missing out in all your previous experiences. His hand reached out, grabbing the bottle of chocolate syrup you’d left on the counter, and he looked over to see what other sweet concoction he’d found.

“Mmm, perfect. Open wide sweetheart,” he smirked. Confused, you opened your mouth slightly to which he found most amusing. His fingers withdrew and you whimpered in complaint before your knees were gripped firmly and pushed apart, spreading your legs wide open for him to see. He drizzled a little of the chocolate syrup onto your glistening folds, a few drops sinking into your entrance. The bottle was quickly dropped onto the counter and his tongue was quick to follow the droplets, shoving the appendage deep into your pussy to chase any of the chocolate before it got away from him. “Fucking hell,” he groaned against your cunt, voice muffled. “This is definitely the best thing I have ever tasted in my entire life. I feel like I could die right here.”

With each delve of his muscle you could feel your skin prickling with heat and anticipation or the climax that was beginning to build. Your neglected nub was once again attacked by lashes of his tongue as he pushed his fingers back in, now intent on watching you fall apart. “That’s it petal, good girl. Come for me, that’s it.”

Without mercy he suckled on your clit and your legs shook as that tension began to release, waves of pleasure spreading through your whole body. No noise came forth from your lips for a few seconds, however you quickly broke that silence and cried out loudly with each wave of your high, Taehyung’s fingers still thrusting to draw out your orgasm.

“Please,” you whimpered, looking up at him almost in tears.

“Please what? Use your words,” he growled, already pulling at his belt and letting his pants and underwear fall around his ankles. “What do you need, tell me sweetheart.”

“Need your cock. Please please Taehyung, I want it so bad.” His hand that was soaked with your juices reached down to fist his hardened length, a few drops of precum dripping onto your abdomen. He groaned loudly at the sight, at the way your eyes twinkled in want when you looked at his throbbing appendage. “I want… god I want to suck you off so bad, but I fucking need you. Now.” 

The thought of it had him swearing softly, imagining you on your knees before him. He almost came there at the thought of sinking his cock in between your pretty lips, feeling the back of your warm, wet throat constricting him like the perfect girl you were. However, you looked so beautiful spread out across the counter, he’d rather keep you right where you were. Besides, he was so worked up, he really didn’t need your first impression to be of him finishing too early. “Another time, my sweet. Right now I just really need to be inside you.”

To emphasise his point, the head of his cock ran through your glistening folds, the friction on your clit causing your legs to twitch in overstimulation.  “Kim Taehyung, if you don’t put your dick in me right n-oh!”

Your sentence turned into a gasp as the tip of his dick pushed at your entrance, and the first inch sunk in with a little resistance from how much your walls tried to clamp down, welcoming the intrusion. He bent down over the top of you, possessively capturing your lips with his as the rest of his length split your walls, sinking in to the hilt. It was like heaven, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t wondered what being stretched by his girthy cock would feel like. As if he couldn’t be any more perfect, of course he had to be so well fucking endowed. It almost hurt how big he was, you noticed as your pussy fluttered and clenched around him. Almost. 

Moments passed where both of you simply panted heavily, his face buried into the crook of your neck. “One second, just give me one second or I swear I’m gonna cum. You feel like fucking heaven, noona.” You nodded, incapable of coherent words in that blissful moment. 

“Such beautiful tits,” he groaned as his mouth sucked marks across your collar bones, lips seeking out a peak to torment once more. “Tell me, sweet thing. Who’s tits are these?”

“Yours, Tae. Oh god, they’re all yours.” Came your breathy moan, the strands of his honeyed hair tickling your skin as he dragged his face over to the other nipple.

“Good girl,” he quipped. “What about this pussy, hm?” To emphasise his question he slowly pulled his length from where it was buried in your cunt, driving it back in with an even slower thrust that had you keening desperately at the delicious burn.

“Yours, yours! Just fuck me, please!” 

“Well, since you’re such a good girl who asked so nicely…” After a second he straightened up, hands gripping your hips tightly as he withdrew only to bury himself in your cunt again, hips smacking into the flesh of your ass from the force of his thrust. Once he could tell you had adjusted comfortably to his size he picked up the speed, beginning a much faster pace, the sound of skin slapping filling the otherwise quiet bakery. You threw your head back over the counter, the slight feeling of blood rushing to your head making the sensations of Taehyung’s cock all the more intense. 

Neither of you heard the key opening the door, nor saw the figure that froze in the entry, unable to see anything from outside due to the drawn curtains. Jungkook's eyes were wide much like a deer caught in the headlights, drinking in every inch of your exposed skin. Your heaving breasts looked deliciously perky with the way your head was thrown over the counter, noises he’d only ever dreamed of hearing spilling forth from your parted lips. His shocked expression soured, however, when he realised it was Taehyung standing between your spread legs, his cock plunging into your centre and making your face twist in ecstasy. You hadn’t realised he was there yet, eyes closed and still making little mewls with each of Taehyung’s thrusts, now deep and slow, almost teasing you. The elder looked up and simply smirked once their eyes locked, just who he’d been hoping for. Taehyung was the obvious alpha male, and he could see the way Jungkook’s pants were already straining.

“Mmm, harder... please,” you cried out, ankles locking around Taehyung’s waist so he couldn’t stop what he was doing.

“You want me to fuck you harder, noona? You know ever since the first time I saw you, I’ve fantasized about taking you nice and hard over this quaint little countertop. Have you, noona? Or perhaps you’d been too busy fantasizing about your little assistant, hm? You’d love to have him fuck you like this you dirty girl, isn’t that right? Answer me, or I’ll stop.” He teased, voice becoming a little strained with heavy breaths. His eyes were still locked on Jungkook, mocking the astounded boy.

“Oh god, yes. Fuck yes I’d love to have Kookie fuck his noona like this, oh fu-I think I’m gonna come again Tae.”

“Already? Are you gonna come thinking about Kookie?”

“Yes, hng-ughh Tae, and you! Gonna come, o-oh, because of you!” You cried, each syllable growing in volume the closer you grew to your orgasm.

“Go on noona, show me how much you love my cock,” he permitted, thumb coming back to your clit to pinch and rub the bundle of nerves, pushing you toward your climax. Right as you began to peak, he hooked your legs over his shoulders and began furiously pounding into you. The new angle and pace had you hurtling into a powerful, leg shaking orgasm which made Taehyung curse. You looked so beautiful, and you had a little audience for him to show off to. You were screaming so perfectly, perhaps you secretly knew Jungkook was watching the whole exchange. 

When you came down from your high, panting and swearing softly he pressed a kiss to the inside of your leg. “You’re so pretty when you come, my lovely. Don’t you think so, Jungkook?”

Your eyes flew open to see an upside down, very shocked Jungkook. The two of you were at a standstill for a moment, before you quickly tried to sit up and cover yourself. Taehyung’s hand was gently pushing you to lie back down, he suddenly leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Noona, (Y/N) darling. Don’t you want sweet little Kookie to join us? You want to suck him off while I fuck you nicely, hmm?” His words sounded so sweet, and you clenched around him at the very thought. He chuckled, that was just about all the confirmation he needed. However, he waited until you nodded, not going ahead without your clear consent. 

When Jungkook saw you nod, he was in complete disbelief. You wanted him? His length throbbed painfully in the confines of his pants, feeling so tight it might almost rip through the fabric. Despite being upside down, you could still clearly see the outline of the colossal bulge.

“Come here,” Taehyung barked, tutting in annoyance when the younger man still seemed to be rooted to the spot, too stunned to move. “Jeon, I suggest you move your ass if you want your dick sucked.” At his words Jungkook snapped out of his stupor, eagerly striding over to stand above you. 

The younger man was impatiently undoing the buttons on his pants, pulling them down and grabbing the back of his shirt and yanking it over his head, forgoing the buttons altogether. His length sprung forth, already looking angrily red and leaking copious amounts of precum. 

The temptation to taste him was too strong, and you stretched your neck to run your tongue along his dripping cock, pressing sloppy kisses, all the while looking up at him with innocent yet sultry eyes. He swore softly at the sight, pulling back to allow your lips to envelop the head of his cock, tongue swirling around his slit to gather the salty drops which kept leaking. He whimpered loudly, finally knowing what it felt like to sink his cock between his noona’s lips. You relaxed your gag reflex, eyes raking up his body. He was definitely a sight to behold, a sheen of sweat already glazing his glorious chest, making his abs - seriously, how did this boy have them - even more drool worthy. Although you were already drooling. 

His eyes were glued to your mouth, and the way it easily took his cock with each gentle thrust, he was careful not to make you gag. Although, you had other ideas. Your hands sneaked up, gripping the flesh of his bare behind as you relaxed your throat, feeling his hips jerk as he slid in the rest of the way and bottomed out. He groaned, whole body shuddering in pleasure, unable to stop his hips from jerking forward to chase the euphoria he found between your lips. The rather hard thrust had you choking a little, eyes tearing up but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when Jungkook was being so vocal, moaning and cursing so much you were sure anyone outside could hear. When you gagged again, inhaling deeply through your nose he pulled back, giving you a small reprieve and letting you breathe through your mouth. It was at the moment the man standing between your legs, who had been enjoying the show decided it was time to remind you of his presence. 

You cried out sharply when Taehyung’s throbbing length buried itself into your sopping heat once again, the movement jolting you and causing Jungkook’s cock to sink back into your throat. He began to swear as both men thrust into you, using your body to get themselves off. Hungrily, like he thought he might never get the opportunity to witness this again, Jungkook’s eyes raked over your soft body. The way your breasts bounced with every thrust, nipples stiff and slick from his elder’s mouth. Then your wonderful thighs, rippling each time Taehyung drove his hips into them. Jungkook always knew you would have such a beautifully soft body, he just wanted to knead you with his hands and run his tongue over every inch, every curve you had. There was so much slick shining on the inside of your thighs, loud squelch noises from each time Tae’s cock pushed into you. He wasn’t going to last much longer, not with the way moaned and swirled your tongue around his length.

After a few minutes Taehyung could feel how you were clamping down on his cock again as it dragged against your sweet spot with each thrust, you were getting close once more. His own pleasure twisted sharply in his abdomen, tightening dangerously quickly. The pad of his thumb pressed down on your clit once more, rubbing furious circles to get you to finish before he did. “One more, I want you to come one more time for me, noona. For us.” 

Your climax came to a peak and you squealed, Jungkook’s length popping out of your mouth to make way for the wails of pleasure as your legs shook. You reached out to pump him in your hand, and the sound of your moans as you came was all it took for Jungkook to swear and suddenly he was coming too. You took him back in your mouth quickly, grabbing his hips and pulling him so his cum spurted to the back of your throat.

“Fuck! Oh my-oh fucking hell noona, oh,” he all but yelled, whole body trembling as he climaxed.

Suddenly Taehyung could hold on no longer either, he stilled and you moaned louder as warmth flooded deep inside you as he came, your pussy clenching unconsciously at how good it all felt. Jungkook whined in overstimulation when he pulled out, but your  lips drew the top of his cock back into your mouth to suckle at the remains of his salty release, the sensation of your tongue lapping against his frenulum almost too much for him.

He pulled out, your tongue licking your lips to collect any remains as you bathed in post orgasm bliss. Taehyung’s cock softened, slipping out of your swollen pussy as the three of you panted, catching your breath. 

Jungkook leaned on the bench, looming over you and he flashed a hopeful smile. The same that made your heart flutter so innocently each morning, the slightest glimmer of potential for something more between you two. However,  you’d just sucked him off while another man fucked you. 

Now that the hazy headspace had cleared, embarrassment came forth unbridled and you couldn’t stand to be around a moment longer. You slipped off the counter, wobbly legs barely able to support you as you hastily picked up your clothes. It seems that Taehyung had the same idea as he was quickly dressed, buttoning up his shirt and snatching his jacket up off the floor.

“Well…” he began with, looking between the three of you. “Looks like you two have something to talk about. I’d best be going, see you around.” With that, he was out the door. Gone. It brought your memory back to the first time you’d met him, watching him walk out of the door. Things had been so much more simple then, when you weren’t sleeping with two men at once. You didn’t waste another second dwelling in the awkward tension between you and Jungkook as you rushed upstairs without another word.

The next three weeks were awkward to say the least. Conversation was somewhat scarce between both yourself and your assistant, and you feared you’d forever ruined your relationship with him. Jungkook was barely conversing with you, and whenever it was necessary he gave one word answers at best. 

It was now that you realised he always used to say things such as let me do it, or I made extra of your favourite. It was in the small things, the everyday gestures that your feelings began to steadily blossom, nothing like the grand and unrealistic romance you so desired. Now Jungkook felt so far away, perhaps he despised you now. All because you had to be stupid and greedy, turning a blind eye to the blessing that was right in front of you all along and pursuing someone you have convinced you were good enough for. 

Since that night, Taehyung had not been back to the bakery.

In fact, you had not heard from him at all. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t shed a tear or two over it, after how sweet he’d been in the beginning. The larger part of your conscience, the more irrational part urged you to wait around like a stupid damsel in distress. Hoping that maybe he would walk back in through that door with the little jingle of the bell and make you smile like the idiot you were, pretending nothing had ever gone wrong.  But the more rational part wanted to beat that other part to a pulp, it was far more likely that he had been sweet, like honey for one reason. To lure you in like the silly little fly you were, walking right into his web. How many other girls had he been with in three weeks? Was that really his sister, or did he just tell that to women he’s luring in to make them let their guard down? Just like you had. The sun was shining and the birds were chirping, it was a perfect day, but strangely a little warm. Beads of sweat rolled down your temple, and you wiped them away with the back of your arm as your hands were covered in flour and dough. God, it was unusually warm this morning.

You turned around from your workstation, looking for your rolling pin on one of the other benches. Incidentally your eyes met Jungkook’s and his gaze darted away abruptly, pretending to also look for something. Guilt gnawed at you, knowing that you had caused his embarrassment. After all, you confessed you wanted him in the way he wanted you and then proceeded to mope after Taehyung, not looking at him twice. 

You took your anger out on the innocent dough, squashing it angrily between your fingers absent mindedly. You kept muttering see you around in a mocking tone before realizing it was now over kneaded. Great, now you had a suitor on the run, an assistant that was giving you the silent treatment, and your bread would be flat and overly tough. At least your favourite apricot jam would make it taste better, and you couldn’t help craving another serving you mused as you cleaned the sticky dough from your hands.

The delicious smell of the fresh bread wafted from the racks where they rested, and you sought out a tray that had mostly cooled. When you pulled it out, resting the heavy tray on your chest as you normally did, you yelped and dropped it on the bench with a loud bang. The apple that Jungkook had been about to chop skidded across the floor as he dropped it and rushed over to you.

“Noona! Are you alright?! What happened?!” 

You gritted your teeth and breathed in through your nose, wincing at how unusually sore your breasts were. Jungkook reached for your cheek, and his hands in your face smelled strongly of apple juice, almost burning your nostrils with its potency. Sudden nausea gripped at your stomach, twisting your insides and making you feel queasy. You pushed past Jungkook and sprinted up the stairs, hearing Jungkook’s heavy footsteps right behind you. You barely reached the bathroom before you fell to your knees, heaving over the toilet bowl to empty your stomach.

“(Y/N)!” A distressed Jungkook cried out from the doorway before crouching down, hands still incredibly gentle as they reached to sweep your hair out of the way. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?!” An answer didn’t make it past your lips however, only more of your breakfast. Jungkook was audibly panicked, but still rubbed comforting circles on your back as you continued to throw up. “That’s it, get it all out,” he murmured.

Your mouth tasted foul and as soon as you stood up you were reaching for your toothbrush. He was glued to your side, picking up a cloth to wipe away at the vomit that was on your chin, still asking a million questions. Embarrassed, you waved him away even though the tender action made your heart squeeze. So he still cared? “I’m fine Kook, I just don’t know why I’m throwing up all of a sudden, I didn’t eat anything that was off…”

He was still insistent on fussing, telling you to go to the doctor if you couldn’t explain your sudden illness. You wondered back into the bedroom, wracking your brain for any inclination as to why it might me, thinking of your symptoms. Your gaze landed on your little clock on your dresser which displayed the date, eyes widening when things began clicking into place. Your period was also a week late, you had sore breasts and morning sickness. You slapped a hand over your mouth muffling the distressed whine that left your lips, words not coming to you at the moment from the shock.

You were pregnant. 

Jungkook tentatively touched your shoulder making both of you flinch as the initial shock wore off, and the harsh reality of it came crashing over you. Your eyes flickered to Jungkook’s wide ones, concern evident at the tears brimming in your eyes. “Noona? (Y/N)? What’s wrong? Why... Why are you crying?” God, he was so innocent sometimes, of course he hadn’t caught on yet. 

“K-Kook,” you all but whimpered, voice breaking from the way your throat constricted in an attempt to hold back the sobs. “I-... I think I’m pregnant,” came your confession, barely audible, but Jungkook’s ears picked it up well enough. You could barely look him in the eyes, your own watery with tears and you sounded so defeated.

He crushed you to his chest, his arms enveloping your frame in a warm hug, and you never wanted him to let you go. The sobs came forth unbridled now and you buried your face into the crook of his neck, drenching his shirt with your tears. 

“Is it really such a bad thing?” He whispered to you between shushes. “Noona, you know I’ll always stick by you, right? No matter what. I’ll be here even if that bastard isn’t,” he murmured and you trembled all the more from his sweet words.

You pulled back so you could look him in the eye, offering a weak and watery smile. “Oh Jungkook, I really don’t deserve you.”

“Nonsense,” he chastised quickly, a warm thumb coming up to wipe away the wetness on your cheeks. “I really like you noona, like a lot.” 

“I do too, Kookie. God, I’m so sorry,” you chuckled, pinching his dimple softly before burying your hand in your apron for a handkerchief. “I just thought, you know...you’d want to be with someone a bit closer to your a-”

Your words were cut off when Jungkook covered your mouth and nose with his own handkerchief, wiping away the snot and you had no doubt you looked a complete mess. Blubbering away and confessing your feelings to a younger man, knocked up by another.

“I don’t want to hear that, ever again. Okay? Besides I’ve been fantasizing about calling you my girlfriend for as long as I’ve been working for you. Do you have any idea how happy I am right now? I don’t care about not being the father of this child, as long as I have you by my side I know I can do anything.” He pecked your lips suddenly, prompting a brighter smile from you which warmed his heart to see you no longer upset about everything. You snaked your arm around the top of his shoulders, grinning as he brought your lips back together. You melted into his arms as you deepened the kiss, but he flinched back a bit.

“What? What’s wrong? Did I do someth-”

“No, nothing’s wrong it’s just...your mouth kinda tastes like vomit still. Sorry.” The two of you burst into laughter, a bit of lightness in the otherwise serious situation. You moved back into the bathroom to begin scrubbing your teeth clean while Jungkook, unable to relinquish you from his hands as if you’d disappear if he let go, kept rubbing comforting circles on your hips. He looked deep in thought. “I’ll get a hold of Taehyung, I promise. While I know you probably despise him right now, I think he has a right to know about the baby.”

Silently you nodded, uncertainty and nervousness swirling deep within your stomach. Jungkook was right, you should tell Taehyung but what would his reaction be? Would he be angry? God, he seemed so nice, so genuine. Maybe it really was just some elaborate plan to seduce you, how many other women had fallen prey to his charms you wondered. Perhaps this was not the first time a woman had tracked him down after being knocked u-

“(Y/N)? It’s alright, just don’t dwell on it okay?” His hands trailed up to rub your shoulders, drawing a long sigh from you. “We’ll make an appointment with the doctor first, yeah? Just to be sure. I’ll even come with you.” 

You turned and buried your face into the crook of his neck again, so over the moon to have such support. You don’t know what you did to deserve this, to deserve him. 

“Do you think people would mind if we opened… a bit late today?” You asked him, fingers creeping up his chest to play with his collar as you looked at him suggestively.

He wrapped his muscular arms around your shoulders, giving you a soft squeeze. You whined at the action, causing your tender breasts to ache. In retaliation you reached down and groped the firm flesh of his behind. Instantly he bucked forward, seeking friction and pushing his quickly hardening length into your abdomen. 

“You mean..” he gaped, beaming down at you with an expression so endearing and so excited it made you giddy. Firm hands found his chest, and you guided him back out of the bathroom and pushed him onto the bed, immediately tugging at the buttons on his work pants. His swollen cock sprung out immediately, already rock hard and dripping precum, so eager to finally bury itself in you completely.

He helped you to yank his trousers down quickly, shoes and all getting kicked off in a hurry. You swore you could hear his shirt tearing a little as he ripped it over his head, his hair becoming messed up in his haste Jungkook yanked you into his reach so he could strip you, much like a child at Christmas, uncaring about the poor wrapping paper and eager to get to his present. Fighting him would be useless with the way your eyes drank in his impressive physique.

Once you were completely bare you grabbed his shoulders, clambering on top of him and reaching between the two of you to grab his dick, running the leaking tip through your damp folds. As you sunk down a few inches you had to stop, the stretch from just how fat his cock was leaving you breathless for a moment. Tiny rocks up and down allowed your walls to adjust before you took a breath and bottomed out, Jungkook threw his head back, exposing his deliciously thick neck to your hungry eyes. The urge to mark it was far too strong, and you didn’t hesitate to bend forward to suckle on the skin, little red and purple marks blossoming. 

You immediately got to work grinding your hips back and forth, only seeming to drive Jungkook even crazier. After a few minutes he pushed you to sit back up, the need to see your body again too much yet he couldn’t decide where to look. Your breasts swayed in his face with every rock of your body and it was so hard for him to resist bucking his hips upwards. The sight of your pussy lips swallowing every inch of his throbbing cock again and again was truly something to behold, and it felt a thousand times better. Or your beautiful face, contorted in the most blissful expressions, consumed by the pleasure. At a particularly loud moan you let out he thrusted up, grunting at the feeling of you clenching around him. 

Jungkook seized your hips, planting his feet on the bed and began pounding his thick length into you without mercy. Caught off guard, you collapsed onto your hands at the sharp spike of pleasure in your belly, your cries muffled as you buried your face into Jungkook’s damp neck. He too smelled heavenly when you were this close, his natural woody musk overloading your senses with each sharp inhale of breath.

He sat up so you were face to face, the position rather intimate, but was quickly bending down to draw one of your nipples into his mouth, nipping softly. “Ah! Be g-gentle, please Kookie. They’re so sensitive right no-ow.”

“Mmm. Can’t wait ‘til they’re all heavy and swollen with milk, I bet you’d taste so sweet noona.” He practically growled, suddenly possessive at the thought.

“Kook! Oh my-oh god, harder. Please please harder baby. You gonna fuck your noona nice and hard?” You begged, running your fingers through the dark, curly locks on his head. Quickly he gripped your waist tighter and flipped you onto your back in an impressive show of strength, quick to re-acquaint you with the delicious stretch as his cock buried itself back inside you and resumed a brutal pace. He was a rather energetic lover it seemed.

“You feel so good noona, oh my god! Fuck I-I’m not gonna last much longer, not when I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“Ugh, it’s okay baby. I’m mfph almost th-there, oh!”

Your arms anchored themselves on his broad shoulders as you jolted from the force of his thrusts, one hand snaking up to thread into the dark hair at the nape of his neck and he whined louder between laboured breaths. Right as he let out a long high pitched moan you felt his whole body tremble, warmth gushing deep in your abdomen as he came. However, Jungkook was ever the soldier and continued on slamming his hips into yours and you finally tipped over the edge. Your walls clenched and fluttered, eyes rolling back into your head. Yet he still continued even as you felt the sticky mess of his cum getting pushed deeper with each thrust, more still filling you. The sounds you were making must have been bothering the neighbours, slapping skin and cries of ecstasy. But neither of you could help it because it had felt like heaven. God, why hadn’t you done this earlier?

When the waves of pleasure finally subsided he dropped onto his forearms, cock going limp and slipping out of your abused pussy. 

“Noona.” His chest heaved with his efforts but he couldn’t resist nuzzling into the crook of your now sweaty neck, and your heart clenched with the affection. “That was amazing, so much better than I ever could have imagined. Well...have been imagining.”

“Jungkook, baby,” you breathed, panting heavily. “I’d love to stay like this forever but I’m gonna dirty the sheets, can you grab me a washcloth from the bathroom please?”

He pecked your cheek and sprung up immediately, kicking off his pants that still clung to one leg so they wouldn’t trip him and headed toward the bathroom. Your eyes dropped to his bare behind and you all but drooled, it truly looked so much better without his pants obscuring the view.

“Or,” you began and he paused, turning back to you as you flipped on your side, attempting to strike a seductive pose. Rather it seemed he was the seductor, unknowingly posed like a Roman statue, his body half twisted in a way that accentuated all his best features while gravity accentuated your worst. However, his eyes raked over your figure, insatiable. “How about we just take a shower together? Save some water, hmm-oh Jungkook!” You squealed as he easily hoisted you up bridal style, pecking your lips. 

“I think that sounds like a very good idea, shall we?” He asked, carrying you in the direction of the bathroom already sporting another semi.

Three weeks. You were three weeks pregnant, the life inside you so tiny yet had already become such a huge part of your life in just one day. Jungkook was still diligently stuck by your side, and earlier today he’d tried ringing Taehyung’s office to try and speak with him. However, he was told that the elder was not available. All that could be done was to leave a message with his secretary. 

You pondered what he might say as the two of you walked arm in arm on your way home from the doctor’s office late in the afternoon. Again, two parts of you rationed with one another. He did just start a new job, perhaps that would explain his absence for almost a month. 

Three days, the more rational part of you argued. It was a common rule you’d heard the women gush about over tea in your shop, that no suitor was too busy to contact you at some point in three days. If they didn’t then you simply weren’t a priority for them, not that it mattered anyway. You were loyal to Jungkook now, he was certainly a priority to you.

But there was something about Taehyung, the extent of his genuine nature was incredibly difficult to fabricate. It kept nagging at you in the back of your mind, to just wait, to give him the benefit of the doubt when he finally did come forward. Or maybe you were just being hormonal and making things up to comfort yourself. A distraction was what you needed.

You tipped your head back to breathe in the fresh air. The sky was dusted with a pretty pink and orange colour as the sun set, and you thought would make a nice picture.

“Oh, by the way. I never asked you about the job you got, taking photographs, did you have fun? It is what you came here for after all.” A heavy sigh followed from the man by your side, which definitely caught your attention. “Jungkook? What is it?”

“It was alright, I probably could have enjoyed it more. I just couldn’t help but feel really disappointed the whole time. I wanted to like it more but I just... couldn’t,” he trailed off with yet another deep sigh, his fourth this evening.

“What do you mean? Is it not what you want to do anymore?” You questioned, bringing your other hand to his arm to rub comforting circles. He shook his head, fumbling in his coat pocket for the keys and unlocking the door. 

“No, it’s not what I want anymore. As a hobby I think it’s okay, but I’ve completely fallen in love with working here, with baking,” he paused before pushing the door open, turning back to you. “But most importantly, (Y/N). I’ve fallen in love with you. My beautiful noona.” 

Your eyes sparkled with tears. “Oh, Jungkook. I-”

“You don’t have to say it back right away. Take all the time you need, I’d wait for you forever.”

He began to head inside but you grabbed his arm firmly, and he looked back at you with a startled expression. “I do, I absolutely do. The feelings, they’ve always been there but I’ve just been afraid to act on them. But... I do love you, more than you know.” 

The pure expression of elation that spread across his face made your heart ache, and you just had to kiss it, to kiss him. He let out a little gasp of surprise when you grabbed his cheeks and pulled him to you, pressing your lips together. It was only when you let out a little shiver that he pulled away, ushering you inside and away from the nippy wind.

Now that you were significantly warmer you let out a long yawn, fatigue making your eyelids feel heavy. Jungkook pulled you to him again, pressing a kiss against your hair, the action would never cease to make your heart flutter. “I’ll lock up, you go upstairs to bed noona. I love you,”

“Goodnight Jungkook, I love you too,” you murmured back sleepily with a smile. Reluctantly you slipped out of his warm arms, making the treacherously long haul up to the first floor where your dwelling resided. Once he was sure you’d safely made it up the stairs, he fished around in his pocket for the keys, turning around to lock the door. However, he froze at the figure who stood looming in the doorway.

Taehyung.

You awoke later to the other side of the bed cold and empty, the feeling of a rough tongue licking at your cheek.You stirred with a groan, waiting for the grogginess to subside while you waved your cat away, hearing him pounce onto the floor and out into the kitchen. His demands to be fed grew louder and louder until you simply couldn’t ignore him, and you dragged yourself out of bed to the empty kitchen. Once Jiji’s bowl was filled and he was happily eating you noticed how quiet it was. That’s strange, where was Jungkook?

The clinking of silverware and a light on downstairs caught your attention. You scratched the back of your head in thought as you made your way down into the back room, but when you emerged  at the bottom of the stairs you froze.

“Noona!” Jungkook suddenly exclaimed, rushing forth and the loud scrape of the chairs as both men shot up caused you to  jump a little. You put our hand out to stop him approaching and he paused, your shock only grew when you noticed Jungkook was sporting a black eye, and he squirmed on the spot while you gawked at him. While you were concerned, you had something - well someone - more important to address. “Um… Taehyung is back… ” 

“I noticed, Jungkook,” you gritted, trying to keep a strong front in front of them. 

Moisture sprung to your eyes and it made Taehyung’s heart clench, seeing you look so similar to a cornered animal. One wrong move and you would likely bolt back up the stairs. You were frustrated with yourself because you didn’t expect to cry immediately, but seeing the father of your unborn child proved to affect you more than you thought it would. 

“(Y/N)... ” He began, taking a small step toward you, his arms reaching out with the urge to comfort you. However, you gave him a dirty look which had Taehyung quickly retracting and not coming any closer. “I know you’re upset… and angry… and confused-”

“Correct,” you quipped.

“But there’s an explanation, I promise,” he pleaded, waiting with baited breath before you crossed your arms and gave a tiny nod heavy with trepidation. “I wanted to come and see you personally the following morning, believe me I truly did. But something happened with my father and the company, I had to go overseas urgently.”

“For almost a month? You couldn’t have at least written to me? A telegram? Even a goddamn smoke signal was too much effort for you?” 

“I did! I wrote you a letter and left it here early in the morning before I left, I even put my return address on it so you could write back to me while I was away. I was waiting to hear from you, and the whole time I thought you’d gotten my letter and didn’t want to see me anymore, because of Jungkook.”

A tiny twinge of guilt arose within you, your gut instinct had been right. He had tried to do the right thing. “I’m sorry Taehyung, I didn’t get any letter from you.” You truly were apologetic, a part of you now wished that things had played out differently and you’d given him a chance. But you couldn’t change the past now, and Jungkook was rooted firmly in your heart. Besides, if you had to choose between the two, you’re sure you would never be able to come to a decision.

“I apologise for leaving so quickly that day, but I needed some time to think as it wasn’t just the two of us anymore. A third party had become...involved. But before I could see you in person again I had to go. Hopefully you’ll accept this,” he trailed off, gesturing to a small box on the table. Gingerly you slipped past him to pick it up, gasping when a small glass flower was inside. “When I was in Paris, I saw this in a shop window and immediately thought of you and the first time we met. Finally I got you a flower that won’t wither away and die.”

“Taehyung...it’s lovely, but I don’t really think it’s appropriate for me to accept gifts like this from you anymore. I love Jungkook now. Any contribution from you from now on should be for the b-” You stopped your words suddenly, did Jungkook tell him yet? 

“The baby? My...baby. Yes. Jungkook told me.” His eyes flickered down to your stomach. “Oh (Y/N), I’m so sorry this happened to you. I’ll support you one hundred percent, I should have been more careful.”

“Well… we should have been more careful. But you’re not mad?” You questioned, chewing on your lip nervously.

“What?! Why would I be mad at you? I… God I just want to touch your stomach so bad. Can I? Please?” He practically begged, and you felt a laugh bubble up against your will. You’d never seen him pout before. Gently you grabbed his hand, guiding his large palm against the flat of your abdomen and unintentionally pulling him closer. At his proximity your heart rate picked up, old feelings stirring at the warm cinnamon you could smell on him. No, you couldn’t think of him that way anymore. 

You diverted your gaze, instead making eye contact with your lover Jungkook while Taehyung rubbed soft circles on your stomach. Things would be… unconventional from now on, to say the least. 

“I just...don’t want to miss out on this,” Taehyung whispered. “Watching your belly grow, feeling the little kicks. I don’t have a child yet, and I’ve always been so excited to be a father. But it’s a shame things turned out this way…”

“Which is why we wanted to talk to you (Y/N).” Jungkook suddenly piped up, having been unusually quiet and relaxed this whole time. “Hyung… I mean Taehyung and I have been speaking all night.”

“I got the message from him and came to see you as soon as I got back, only to watch you kiss him instead. I must admit I was incredibly jealous and originally I planned on talking calmly, but that’s not quite what happened. We started fighting, and then we started... kissing.” He admitted, looking slightly abashed. You, however, were utterly shocked and kept looking between the two trying to imagine such a thing.

“Wait...what?! You two kissed? Each other?”

“Well, yes and then it escalated.” Taehyung murmured with a smirk, peering over to Jungkook. He looked nervous, his hand coming up to touch the back of his neck. That’s when you saw it, many more marks peeking out from under his collar than what you’d left on him. “One thing turned into another and, we ended up having sex. Your table is wobbly now, sorry about that, but this kid’s stamina is no joke.” 

Your jaw almost hit the ground, a whole mix of different emotions hitting you. The first being sorrow and betrayal, tears once more beginning to well in your eyes. But you quickly felt yourself growing angry, after all your partner had technically cheated on you with another man. 

“Jeon Jungkook, you treacherous whore,” you snarled, rubbing your temples at the headache this confusion was bringing you. “I just have one question...why? I thought you two hated one another.” 

“We just couldn’t see past the jealousy we both had over you. But once we actually started getting to know one another a bit more, we actually realised we have a lot in common and are willing to explore that further.” Jungkook explained. “I think the three of us could make it work, that way everyone is happy.”

“You mean… we’d all be together? You’re both okay with that? You actually like each other?” You questioned, to which they smiled and nodded. On the one hand, you would get to have what you’d secretly desired which was both men at the same time. The idea had your heart skipping a beat with excitement, thinking about all the sweet words they’d say, and soft mornings you’d share. How well you’d be taken care of, in many ways. But what if things didn’t work out? What if they grew too jealous and the relationship deteriorated? Apprehension weighed heavily in the air. However, if you never even gave it a shot you would never know what could have been. 

“Noona? Do you need more time to think about it?” Taehyung asked gently. Did you? You looked up at both of them, their soft gazes making you feel like the most treasured woman in the world. Ever so subtly their hands brushed together, fingers intertwining. Something in your gut told you this was the right thing to do, and you reached up to take a hand in one of theirs.

“I’m willing to try.” You told them, biting your lip to soften the huge grin. 

“Really?!” They both exclaimed in unison, eyes wide and you were suddenly tugged into their embrace. Uncontrollable giggles consumed you, and you pecked each of them on the lips.

 “I have a feeling the three of us will go together like sugar, spice and everything nice.”

It was still rather early in the morning, the sun only very faintly peeking through the curtains in your bedroom window. Still, your body was beginning to make its demands known no matter what time it may be. Jungkook was warm against your back, his arm slung over your waist, and you couldn’t stop the way you squirmed and panted softly. God, you had woken up so aroused it was almost painful. At your excessive movement he pulled you tighter to him, and you gasped at the feeling of his morning erection pressing against the soft flesh of your behind. He grumbled something unintelligible into your neck but you didn’t care, you needed him right now.

“Jungkook,” you whined, turning to face him a little more. “Please baby, please.” 

“Oh?” He definitely heard you loud and clear as he raised his head, but before he could even say more you threw your leg over his hip and began grinding your sopping apex against his clothed length. The angle was awkward but you didn’t care as it provided some well needed friction. 

Immediately his hands gripped at your swollen breasts, fingers pinching your sensitive nipples through the thin fabric of your nightgown, and you cried out  from the sudden pleasure. “God,” he growled in your ear. “You need me that much, huh? Can’t even wait until Tae gets here?”

“No, I can’t wait. I need you right fucking now Kookie, please.” There was desperation in your tone now, and you sounded like you were on the verge of tears.

“Alright noona, of course. You know I could never say no to you,” he whispered into your cheek, pressing a soft kiss there. His hands travelled further down your body, smoothing over your swollen tummy like he always loved doing. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this, aren’t you? So desperate for me, begging to be stuffed full of cock. I can’t wait until I can fill you up with my cum and get you nice and pregnant again, with my baby.”

You rolled over onto your knees, propping your weight on your forearms. Jungkook groaned at the sight it presented him with as your gown slipped down your back, your weeping cunt glistening with your arousal, so engorged and throbbing with your pregnancy. He shot up, coming to kneel behind you so he could get a closer look. Jungkook ran his thumb through your folds, cock aching at the way you clenched and whined. There was so much slick, he couldn’t believe how wet you were, a little leaking down and dripping onto the bed from his ministrations. You became pliant, pushing back against his fingers as far as your stomach would allow, desperately wanting him to bury them into you, anything to ease that empty feeling.

“Careful sweetheart, gotta make sure you and bub are okay first,” he murmured into your ear, hands smoothing over your stomach again as he placed a soft kiss on your shoulder. “Let’s take this off.” 

His hands bundled up the bottom of your night dress, patiently waiting until you lifted each knee off the bed so it wasn’t caught and gently peeled it from your panting form. The cool morning air nipped at your exposed skin, every inch of you flushed hot. You leaned back, Jungkook’s chest plastered to you, your puffy nipples hardening quickly when Jungkook pinched them between his fingers. Milky droplets began beading and dripping down your front, drawing a long moan at the sensitivity of them. 

“You’re so amazing, oh my god. Do you have any idea how often I’ve imagined you like this? So perfectly swollen and pregnant, so incredibly fertile. Breasts so soft and brimming with milk. You’re such a good girl for Hyung and I, you’re gonna let us fill you up again and again aren’t you?” He continued his groping while whispering filthy things in your ear, you were so worked up it was almost painful. 

“I-If you keep doing that, uhh fuck Kookie, baby. I think I might come, oh.” At your whining he gave an extra hard pinch, and little droplets of white sprinkled across the bed sheets, some dripping down your chest onto your stomach. He relented for a second to tear off his pajamas in record time, giving you barely a second’s warning before the hardness of his scalding cock was sliding into the cleft of your asscheeks, a moan breaking out from him at how soaked it got. With one hand your fingers twisted in the bedsheets, the other trying to reach behind and line him up. However, he chuckled and gripped your wrist to stop you. So close yet so far, and you began muttering a sting of incoherent and almost hysterical gibberish, undecipherable other than the occasional please. Given how wet you were he easily sunk in, and it made the stretch of his girth a little more tolerable as he bottomed out with a curse. His teeth bit softly into the flesh of your bare shoulder and you whimpered loudly as he drew back to sink straight back in at a torturously slow pace, always giving you a few seconds to accommodate his thickness. The teasing was driving you near insane, but thankfully he had such a fat cock it still felt incredible. He was always so gentle to begin with, treating you as if you were fragile. However, as he said before he could never say no to you. Once you really whined and whimpered for him to go harder, boy did he give it to you.

He adjusted his hands on your soft hips, gripping them tighter so he could tug you back onto his length as he began slamming into you. Loud slaps filled the room as his pace quickened, pounding eagerly from behind and you wailed, this angle always making him feel so much deeper than usual. “You just get more beautiful everyday, ugh,” Jungkook huffed in your ear, voice strained from the feeling of your velvet walls gripping him eagerly.

Your softness dug into his hip bones as his thrusts grew more powerful, his incredible thighs flexing with the brutal pace he set. Pleasure twisted in your abdomen acutely, the pressure building up easily with your swollen belly. “Jungkook, I’m gonna come already. You feel so good baby, oh!”

At your words he used his impressive strength to pull you against him even more, the angle had his cock rubbing against that special spot and your high hit you harder than it ever had. You reached up and behind you to anchor your hands on his thick, vascular neck, sweaty skin sticking slightly. Your thighs trembled right as you began to peak, and just as the door swung open and you locked gazes with Taehyung. You felt a delicious pressure release in your abdomen as you gushed with a broken shriek, clear fluid squirting all over the tangled bedsheets. He watched you with eyes blown out wide, grip on the doorknob so tight it almost broke and you couldn’t help the way your eyes rolled back into your head. Each jolt caused your ever growing breasts to sway, and the way your hands were above your head only accentuated all your lovely curves which he happily consumed with his gaze.

Jungkook let out a few loud, high pitched moans as he released inside you, the warmth making you shudder as you began coming down from your orgasm. A warm, sweaty forehead pressed against your back as you both panted from the effort, Jungkook’s hands steadying you as you lay down onto your side. The shortness of breath was really beginning to kick in now that you were almost five months pregnant. Wordlessly you reached out for Taehyung, making grabby hands at him as he set his things down and shut the door.

“Good morning princess.” He stalked over to the bed, eyes raking over your glistening body, also flicking back to take in Jungkook who had flopped back against the pillows. “Do you want more? Does daddy get a turn?” He leant down and whispered in your ear as he pressed kisses all along your cheek. You whined and nodded yes, immediately seeking out his lips with your own. God, you just came but you were always ready and wanted to feel both of your lovers, so insatiable these days.

“Good morning my sweet,” he murmured, bed dipping under Taehyung’s weight as he joined you. His fingers ran through Jungkook’s dark curls, and he bent down to capture his other lover’s mouth in a sweet kiss, the younger tugged Taehyung toward him and eagerly began pulling at his clothes.

While the two of them locked lips and stripped you scooted up and flopped onto your back, skin glowing with a light sheen of sweat and legs wide open to accommodate your ever growing stomach. Both men’s gaze immediately fell to your core, looking so pretty with Jungkook’s cum slowly dripping out. Taehyung couldn’t resist, he shifted toward you, dropped to his stomach and pushed your legs further apart. “Look at you, such a messy girl. Daddy should clean you up, hm?” You bit your finger coyly, head clouded with lust as you nodded. Taehyung took another few seconds to stare at your engorged centre, his breath fanning against your wetness causing you to squirm before he quickly dipped down to run his tongue through your folds, groaning at the mixture of sweet and salty taste. He lapped up the juices, tongue seeking out your clit and drawing it into his mouth ripping an almost scream from you from finally getting stimulation on your sensitive, blood fattened nub.

Taehyung started to moan louder, and you lifted your head up until you were almost sitting - you had to otherwise you wouldn’t be able to see past your growing stomach - only to find Taehyung still had his head buried between your legs. However, Jungkook had his own agenda, and his teeth nibbled at one of Taehyung’s buttcheeks before his tongue dipped down between them. One hand snuck down underneath Taehyung’s hips to stroke at his cock which he had previously been grinding against the sheets. 

You’d quickly learned that Jungkook had a bit of an oral fixation, he was obsessed with leaving hickies wherever he could. More than once the two of you would be working early in the morning, then the next thing Jungkook would haul you up onto the unoccupied part of the workbench and eat you out. You had to have a door installed that separated the back workroom from the shop because of his high libido, though as he grew more explorative you’d also have to scold him about food safety. 

The elder sat back on his knees, a hand coming to sink two fingers into your sopping apex. His thumb rubbed circles against your engorged clit, and with each thrust of his wrist he pushed out some of the thick white mixture. Now that he was sat up, Jungkook crawled up and laid on his side, coming to lap at the drops of precum on his erect length. The elder pulled his hand from between your legs and popped them into his mouth, a soft groan accompanying the taste he so adored, the cum of both his lovers combined.

“Kookie? Can you go again, baby?” Taehyung asked, his other hand gently threaded into his hair to ease him off his member. Jungkook nodded eagerly, pumping his own cock in his hand, already hard again. The stamina that boy had frightened you, once you were ready for another baby he’d have you pregnant again in no time. Taehyung motioned for him to lay on his back, and gently guided you over to where Jungkook was propped up with his head resting against the pillows. You turned around and straddled his hips with your back to him and he sat up a bit to steady you.

“Are you okay to keep going? You’re not too tired?” Jungkook whispered in your ear, to which you quickly nodded. No matter how tired you were, you rarely turned down sex with your two lovers. However, on the odd occasion that you did want to rest instead they had no qualms, as they happily indulged in their own intercourse often. The sudden need to twist around and kiss him overcame you and you whined softly, seeking out his lips. They were both so sweet and attentive, you felt like the luckiest girl in the world. 

“Kook?” You murmured. He hummed in response, a warm palm soothing on your arm. “I love you, so so much.” 

He couldn’t suppress the grin that broke out across his face no matter how hard he tried, because he was so undeniably happy. “My (Y/N), I love you so much, more than you could imagine.” He leaned forward to peck your lips again before an insistent tap on your thigh brought your attention back to Taehyung.

“Don’t worry,” you whispered, already pouting at him for a kiss as well. “I haven’t forgotten about you. I love you too, Taehyung.” At your words he seemed to melt a little, his lips brushing against yours over and over in soft little pecks. 

“I love you too, petal. All of you.” He touched your stomach gently, also looking back at Jungkook behind you. The hand that was just on your tummy came up to cup your cheek, however, you’d grown quite impatient and turned your head to draw two of his fingers into your mouth. 

“That’s it, such a good girl,” he hummed, smiling as you suckled while looking up at him with wide eyes. The sweet tone turned to a growl as you dropped his hand only to bend down, now practically on your hands and knees, and licked a stripe up his fat, throbbing length. The taste of his salty precum had you keening, popping the tip into your mouth and swirling your tongue around the head. You lapped at his frenulum, occasionally running your tongue across the slit to catch the droplets as they continued to bead. 

Jungkook behind you kneaded your soft rump, pulling the cheeks apart and running his tongue from your clit up to your tight hole. Your excessive juices mixed with his cum made for a perfect lubricant as he lapped at your rim, his thumb coming to spread the slick around it and you clenched at the threat of intrusion. He watched in fascination as you clenched again, lightly pressing on it to test the resistance. Given how wet you were the digit sunk in easily, and you immediately clamped down. Taehyung growled as he felt the vibrations of your moan on his cock, his hand threading into your hair softly. Jungkook worked his thumb in and out of your ass, giving your muscles time to slowly relax. A thrum of excitement rushed through you as he pulled the digit out, only to slick up two more fingers and ease them in carefully. You always got a bit more worked up when you knew you were going to have both men at once, it felt incredible being so full of them.

“God noona, you’re taking my fingers so well. You love getting your tight little asshole played with, don’t you? Such a good girl.” Jungkook hissed, scissoring the digits until he could work in a third finger. You pulled your lips from Taehyung’s cock with a pop sound, the pleasure was so overwhelming, especially when Jungkook’s thumb came to rub circles on your clit.

“Are you close again, princess?” Taehyung asked, stroking your hair. You nodded furiously, pushing back to try and get the younger’s fingers probing deeper.

“U-Ugh! Daddy, Kookie! I’m com-oh!” you didn’t even finish your sentence before your orgasm washed over you, toes curling and skin tingling with the euphoric feeling. Jungkook’s fingers continued to rub against your sensitive walls, the completely unique feeling causing you to clench even harder. When your cries subsided you slumped back a little and Jungkook withdrew his hand. “Please,” you whimpered, pouting and looking between both your lovers.

“Please what, my love? Use your words.” Taehyung ordered.

“Want more, want you both.”

“Oh? Is one cock filling you up not enough for you? Greedy girl,” he tutted. “Can you sit back for me? Want Jungkookie to fuck your ass while I have your pussy?”

Your empty orifices clench at his words, wanting so desperately to be filled and to feel the push and pull of both their lengths fucking you. Eagerly you nodded, reaching down to touch your clit again but Taehyung’s hand grabbed your wrist.

“Did I say you could do that, hm?” He growled, tugging your hand away. Your eyes widened at his commanding tone, shaking your head slowly. “What did I just tell you to do?”

“Sit on Jungkookie’s cock, daddy.”

“Exactly, go on then,” Taehyung growled, the softness of his hands as he helped you move back contradicting his tone. You hovered over Jungkook's length, the tip pressing against the seam of your ass. A faint gasp escaped you as he ran the head of his cock through your folds to soak it in the wetness dripping from you, before moving back to line himself up. Ever so gently he pressed the tip against your asshole, applying a soft pressure, coaxing the muscles of your rim to loosen. 

Gradually your ass relaxed to grant him entrance, the head of his cock slipped in aided by your excessive slick. Once he pushed past that initial resistance the rest of his silken length sunk in easily, creating a delicious stretch and you moaned. Taehyung drank in the whole image, watching the younger's cock bottom out as his hips met the flesh of your behind and you sat fully impaled on his length.

Your pussy fluttered and clenched rhythmically, more droplets of your nectar running down to coat Jungkook’s heavy balls. The feeling had him crying out with a choked whimper, you were so tight and warm and he was so sensitive from only just coming.

Gently you rested back against his chest, Jungkook’s torso propped up safely by your pillows and your legs flopped open wider, beckoning Taehyung forward. The elder man sauntered over to you both, his precum dribbled down to join the mess between your thighs as he drew closer, rubbing the tip of his cock through your soaked folds.

You squirmed, unconsciously opening your legs wider for Taehyung to swear softly at the view he was blessed with.

“Daddy, please. Want you too,” you whined, pleading with your eyes as well. You continued shifting and grinding, making Jungkook’s grip on your hips brutally tight. He might leave a few bruises on your soft flesh but he couldn't help it, not when you felt so good. Besides, he would kiss it better later.

“Hyung-” He grunted, not able to get anything else out as he felt Taehyung’s fat cock push into your empty cunt, the thickness still stretching you despite how wet you were. In one smooth, slow stroke he bottomed out and a choked cry was torn from your lips at how full you were, already teetering on the edge and so close to tipping over. In a desperate lust filled haze your hand shot down to rub at your clit furiously, jolts of pleasure still shooting through your abdomen even though both men weren’t moving.

Instead of stopping you this time, Taehyung watched on with a smirk as you rocked yourself back and forth slightly, so desperate for release. He withdrew his cock slightly from your walls and you cried out in displeasure, pussy trying so hard to suck him back in. However, not a second later he plunged back in to the hilt slowly, right as Jungkook pulled out only to fuck back into you. The room filled with your loud cries, nothing got you to moan quite as loud as when you were stuffed full with two cocks, and not to mention the grunts and groans from both men as they picked up a rhythm, one thrusting in right as the other pulled out. 

Taehyung’s eyes glazed over as he watched his length bury into your sopping, swollen folds over and over with each thrust. The sight made him harden further, heavy balls smacking against Jungkook’s length occasionally where it sunk into your slippery ass. It didn’t take long for your next climax to come, the only warning you gave them was a broken whimper of, “hgn, c-oming!” before your legs were trembling, a little sprinkle of clear fluid gushing forth as your eyes rolled back.

“Fuck-,” Taehyung grunted, quickly circling your clit to help you ride out your orgasm as he looked at the wet sheen covering his abdomen. “This is new. Does having your tummy nice and swollen make you squirt, sweetheart?”

All you could manage was to nod furiously, hips still being jolted from each push and pull. Suddenly the urge to shift positions came forth and you pushed on Taehyung’s chest gently, still trying to find the words after your powerful orgasm that left you feeling like jelly.

He slowed his pace, an expression of alarm appeared across his features and he gripped your hand. “What is it my love? Did we do something wrong? Are you hurt?”

“N-No, I just. Can I go on top please?” You breathed out, fatigue beginning to take its toll. He visibly relaxed, pressing a kiss to your sweaty temple. 

“Of course.” He eased out gently causing you to wince at the sudden empty feeling when Jungkook did the same a moment later. Your hand gripped Tae’s wrist, tugging him softly so that he turned and flopped on his back on the bed and you swung a leg over to straddle his hips, two sets of hands touching you gently, always prepared to steady you. Taehyung’s fingertips trailed up from your hips, coming to cradle the small swell of your abdomen. The tender moment had you pausing, before you leaned down to kiss the grin off his lips. 

You reached down to grip his length, lining him up before you sunk down on him. A content sigh left you at being reacquainted with the feeling you’d come to love and crave. The younger eagerly jumped up to close in behind you once again, his large hands groped the flesh of your ass, parting your cheeks to look at your twitching asshole. He was quick to ease himself back in as well, the elder giving him a moment to adjust before they picked up the pace, and from the way they were both moaning you could tell they were getting closer. You were glad as you were definitely getting tired during the rigorous fucking sessions these two always put you through. 

Jungkook’s strength astounded you, he was practically picking you up and pulling you back back onto his length, doing most of the work while Taehyung fucked up into you with practiced ease. It was more frantic now, all three of you driving towards that blissful finish as you often did to start off the morning, although you’d be having an extra long sleep in for sure after this. 

Your swollen breasts were now perfectly in Taehyung's face, bouncing with each thrust and he couldn’t resist leaning forward to draw one of your puffy nipples into the warm, wet cavern of his mouth. Your moans grew louder at the sensation, not to mention the way his chest began glistening as droplets landed there from the other peak. Not in a million years would you grow tired of seeing one of them latch onto your chest and suckle on the sensitive nubs, particularly now that you were pregnant and lactating. It just made them far more keen, the hormonal men brimming with spunk always ready to fuck their cum into you in whatever hole they could, showering you in praise after for being so good and fertile for them. Jungkook particularly would stare at your belly, definitely daydreaming about you pregnant with his child next. Luckily, he didn’t seem to mind too much that you didn’t have his baby growing inside you, it only antagonised him and gave him cause to try and outdo his hyung. It was a blessing you had such high libido or this relationship certainly wouldn’t have worked out so well, but the three of you had somehow achieved harmony.

“I-ugh, hyung! I’m gonna, uhhhh, gonna come!” Kookie cried.

“You can come Jungkookie,” Taehyung growled, his own words strained as his high approached. Jungkook was the one to peak first, pushing his thick cock into the hilt, stilling slightly as the warmth of his cum flooded your ass and he let out a string of high pitched moans. You were next, thanks to Taehyung furiously slamming into your swollen, sensitive cunt. As soon as you gripped him tightly in the throes of your ecstasy, he finally came as well, filling up your pussy with his warm, thick seed.

You collapsed forward onto his chest, panting hard and he pressed a kiss into your hair. “You’re always such a good girl for us, isn’t she Kookie?”

The three of you were dazed in your sweaty, post orgasm bliss, soaking up the sweet moment. The younger man hummed in agreement and parted your cheeks, staring at the copious amount of cum oozing from your spent orifices. You were sore but satiated, happily soaking up the tender moment until Jungkook exclaimed,

“Now that is the best creampie I’ve ever made!”

➻ A/N: This fic took me six months to write...so I would really appreciate a little bit of feedback! 

Part Two: & Everything Nice coming soon! 

[beauregardlionett]

the world is ending so kiss me slowly

AO3 Link

The days at sea had been seemingly endless. Heavy layers of ice fog consistently impeded their journey, and Beau had grown weary of the monotony. Lucky enough, however, the voyage hadn’t persisted for too long. The icebreaker was rather scuffed up from their earlier encounters on the icy seas, but they plugged along as steady as could be. Despite those encounters, they made it to land with relatively good timing.

Their stay in the port city hadn’t lasted more than a day, moving on with rapid intent in their search for Eiselcross. But they leapt from one monotony to the next, trekking through the endless, snowy landscapes of the north. The winds were bracing, the snow beyond freezing, and nights were worse. Beau could feel the temperature actively chapping her lips and the skin of her knuckles, but she tucked into her warm clothes as much as possible and pushed onward.

So, by the time they stumbled upon a cave system that cropped up seemingly from nowhere, of course they were going to jump at the chance to explore.

Beau was surprised that Vess had agreed to let them sidetrack like this. But when Beau thought about it, Vess’ job was to explore and cultivate. So perhaps she thought the cave system might yield something of interest.

However, the cave only yielded a reprieve from the wind and snow. It was remarkably dull, the rough-hewn walls lacking anything but basic rock and sediment. But they continued on for a little while longer, if only to stay out of the wind, until they came to a three-way split. And while they all knew it was a bad idea, they agreed to divide and conquer to satiate their curiosity.

“Five minutes in each direction,” Fjord instructed firmly. “If you don’t find anything promising, turn around and come back. The last thing we need is to get lost down here.”

The others nodded as Beau flashed her friend a lazy salute. She lingered to watch Fjord, Caduceus, and Veth head down one path, and Caleb, Vess, and Jester down the other. Turning to Yasha, she fought down the butterflies in her stomach and gestured to the remaining tunnel before them.

“Shall we?”

Yasha seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then she turned to lead them down the tunnel. Their steps echoed with dull reverberation in the narrow space, and the cave continued to yield nothing.

Three minutes into their winding way down the tunnel with a semi-awkward silence lingering between them, something snarled in the shadows. Beau’s footsteps halted immediately, eyes sweeping for a source. In her peripheral, Yasha’s hand moved instantly to the hilt of her sword.

With her goggles on, Beau stared into the grey darkness and scanned for the source of the sound. With slow intent, she shifted her right foot back, widening her stance in preparation. This was far from the ideal place to be fighting, and her pulse picked up with nervous anticipation.

Suddenly, in a blur of darkness and movement, a creature lunged from the shadows and swiped massive claws at Beau. She pulled back, quick enough to dodge a lethal blow, but still caught the wide arc of the strike. Claws that were as cold as the ice they had left outside cut through the skin of her side. Beau cried out with a pained, “fuck!” as she lashed out on instinct.

Her first wild punch missed entirely. Somehow, through the haze of painful cold that was now creeping through her veins like poison, she landed her second strike on its hide. She knew the instant her knuckles connected with its fur that she had barely hurt the thing. Beau stumbled back, just missing another blow from its claws. Clutching an arm around her midsection, Beau tried to steady herself by leaning against the tunnel wall. As she attempted to focus through the pulsing chill that spread with every rapid thud of her heart, Beau turned to look for Yasha.

The barbarian slipped past Beau, approaching the creature with her sword drawn and a cry of rage echoing in the tunnel. There was that familiar fire in her multi-colored eyes, and Beau instinctively relaxed. Something about having Yasha beside her in battle that made Beau feel like everything would be okay.

Yasha, veins bulging in her forehead with her rage, somehow maneuvered her greatsword in the narrow space and cut deep into the creature’s side. It yelped with pain a second before Yasha whirled and slammed the flat of her blade against its side. The beast went flying into the side of the cavern wall, colliding with a rough crack and pained yelp.

The tunnel shook, and the creature, heavily wounded and dazed, snarled in their direction before turning and fleeing further into the cave system. Beau was still leaning against the wall, tremors running through the rock beneath her skin. Panic seeped into her expression as she locked eyes with Yasha.

“Yash-” she called out, before the sound of falling rock rumbled above her and cut her off. On instinct, Beau moved away from the wall at the same moment Yasha reached out for the monk. The Aasimar’s fingers curled around Beau’s forearm, tugging her away from the danger. Yasha whirled, pressing Beau in close and hunching over the monk, shielding her entirely from the falling rocks that cascaded from the ceiling.

Beau ducked her head against Yasha’s shoulder and curled chilled fingers into the warm fabric of the Aasimar’s coat.

When the rumbling and crashing finally ceased, Beau still stood tense and shuddering in Yasha’s hold.

“Beau?” Yasha’s voice cracked above her, the woman’s hand shifting to slide down her back as Yasha pulled away slightly. “Are you okay?”

Breathing out a rough, maniac huff of a laugh, Beau felt all the tension bleed from her muscles in one go. She slumped against Yasha, drained and freezing. The Aasimar’s hands fumbled to catch her for a moment, the sound of Yasha’s greatsword clattering to the cavern floor a jarring cacophony in the otherwise silence. But Yasha grabbed Beau around the shoulders and helped her to the floor.

“Hang on,” Yasha muttered more to herself than to Beau. “Close your eyes.”

Light flooded the space a moment later, Yasha’s greatsword glowing a vibrant, dull orange color like firelight where it lay beside them. Yasha turned back to Beau, concern lining every curve of her expression. She seemed to scan Beau, eyes latching onto the wound on Beau’s side. Her expression darkened marginally before she reached out and set her hand on the wound with a gentle touch. Yasha’s fingers glowed with a soft vibrance for a moment as warmth pulsed through Beau. It wasn’t enough to banish the chill in her veins, but it helped.

“Thanks,” Beau breathed shakily, her fingers still trembling. She looked around and realized with sinking dread that the rockfall now blocked the surrounding tunnel on both sides.

“Shit.” Beau summed up rather eloquently.

“Yep,” Yasha agreed, moving to sit beside Beau.

If they thought the tunnel was narrow to begin with, it now barely left room for Beau to stand upright. Which meant if Yasha so much as tried to straighten up, she would smack her head rather painfully into the rocks. It also meant she had no chance of maneuvering her sword, so it stayed put on the floor.

“Let’s hope Fjord sticks to his five-minute time limit,” Beau mused, curling her knees to her chest in an effort to keep her body heat maintained. “If he does, they’ll probably come looking for us relatively soon.”

“I hope so,” Yasha sighed, leaning against the part of the original cave wall. They were lucky the rocks had fallen the way they did. They might have just been crushed all together under different circumstances. Beau shuddered at the thought and felt more than saw Yasha’s gaze snap to her.

“You’re cold,” Yasha said. It was an observation rather than a question, but Beau still tried to deny it. She opened her mouth to brush off the concern, assure Yasha that she was fine. But before she could even get a word out, the Aasimar removed her fur-lined cloak and wrapped it around Beau’s shoulders. Her hands fussed for a few moments, tucking Beau beneath the fabric securely, lips pursed with a concentration Beau found stupidly endearing.

“Thanks,” Beau managed her gratitude without her voice cracking, burrowing into the offered cloak. She felt insufferably awkward just then, realizing she was now stuck in a tiny space with the woman of her affections. Every stilted, flustered interaction she had ever shared with Yasha reared to the forefront of Beau’s mind. It came with the reminder of the very solidifying conversation of her feelings she had had with Fjord not too long ago.

Oh, the gods hated her.

Yasha, who had been fiddling with something on her belt, looked up at Beau and frowned after a minute. She shifted closer and opened her arms in a gesture that made Beau’s face flush in an instant.

“You’re still shaking,” Yasha said by quiet explanation. “I do not want you to freeze or anything like that.”

Beau snorted and shifted in her seat, wanting nothing more than to let Yasha hold her, but holding back. Yasha offered, so there was no reason not to. But she reminded herself that Yasha was off-limits because of Zualla. Yasha needed to make the first move and yeah, she sat there with her arms out, ready to hold Beau without question or prompt. But if Beau accepted, wouldn’t it be like making the first move? Wouldn’t that make Yasha feel obligated to...something? Gods, she was so cold she couldn’t think, but she was certain that she couldn’t accept this offer because...because--

“Beau,” Yasha’s voice cut through the static in Beau’s head, the monk sniffing against the chill in her bones as she looked up. The Aasimar’s face was as neutral as ever, despite the pink in her cheeks. Her arms were still open.

“Do you want to schnuggle?”

Beau blinked at Yasha’s deadpan delivery and promptly lost it. She curled over herself with laughter, tears squeezing from her eyes as she clutched at her pained, chilled abdomen. She heard Yasha chuckling beside her, and Beau felt the tension eek from the atmosphere.

“Yeah,” Beau managed, breathless. “Yeah, I’d love to schnuggle.”

Still giggling, she let Yasha maneuver them so she was sideways in Yasha’s lap, her head tucked against the Aasimar’s shoulder. The barbarian’s arms were a firm, warm weight wrapped around Beau’s wiry frame, and she sank into the easily offered comfort.

“Thanks, Yasha,” Beau mumbled, exhaustion creeping in. “I owe you a couple gold pieces.”

Yasha chuckled quietly, the noise deep and rumbling in her chest where Beau’s cheek pressed against Yasha’s clavicle.

“You don’t owe me anything,” she promised. “I’m happy to help.”

“You’re great,” Beau sighed, pulling the cloak a little tighter around her. She couldn’t seem to banish the chill in her veins. Her training had helped her gain immunity to poisons, but that beast’s chill was more like magic than toxin.

Fuck.

Hopefully, the others found them soon, because Jester or Caduceus would probably fix it. But until then, she didn’t want to alert Yasha to how bad her wound might be. She didn’t want to worry her.

“Hey, Beau?” Yasha sounded hesitant above her, and Beau hummed in wordless answer. “Can I tell you something?”

“Yeah,” Beau mumbled, cozy despite the chill. “‘course.”

“I like you,�� Yasha said, words rushed and stumbling, like she was afraid she’d lose her courage if she held onto them for too long. Beau stilled against Yasha’s shoulder and remained quiet. She hated to let those words kindle fledgling hopes, because what if Yasha didn’t mean it that way?

“A lot,” Yasha continued, and Beau remained frozen. “And sometimes...it makes me feel very...bad. Not because I regret it,” Yasha was quick to amend. “But because of...Zualla. But I think she would want me to be happy. And you...uhm. You make me happy.”

Yasha’s voice tapered off near the end, arms stiff where they remained wrapped around Beau. The monk knew that she feared rejection, feared that Beau would brush her off and tell her it wasn’t mutual.

But it was.

With an alarming amount of effort, Beau picked her head up off Yasha’s shoulder and turned her face up to look at the barbarian. She saw the nerves highlighting every inch of Yasha’s tentative expression and sensed the tremulous hope surging in her veins.

And all Beau could do was respond with an honesty she usually couldn’t afford.

“I like you, too, Yasha,” Beau said as quietly as possible, afraid she might shatter the air around them if she spoke too loudly. “More than I was prepared to. But I like you.”

Yasha didn’t seem to know what to do with Beau’s reciprocation, but her lips curled into a slow smile and her arms around the monk tightened. Joy eked into her eyes and she laughed, breathy and disbelieving.

“May I kiss you? I really want to kiss you. And not in an ‘this is the end, so I might as well’ kind of way. I’ve uh...I’ve wanted to kiss you a lot for, like, a while.”

It was Beau’s turn to huff out a laugh, and she was too afraid to speak and stumble, so she nodded eagerly instead.

Yasha, practically glowing, bundled Beau close and ducked her head down to meet the monk halfway.

The warm press of Yasha’s lips against her own didn’t magically banish the ice in Beau’s veins. But it was certainly a welcome distraction. Beau felt her breath catch in her chest, a stuttering, muted gasp of realization that oh fuck. She was in so deep.

Yasha’s arms stayed wrapped around her, firm and encompassing, keeping Beau right where she wanted to be. Their kiss was chaste, but deep and ringing with a passion beyond frightening. Beau had kissed many people in her time, had done a lot more than kissing, but this...this was something else. Yasha held her like she was worth something and kissed her with attention. She wasn’t chasing pleasure or looking to satisfy a desire - she was declaring to Beau I’m here, I’m in no hurry, I care about you.

And Beau had absolutely no idea what to do with that.

Her first instinct was to break and run - but that was not an option given their surroundings. And despite the fear thrumming in time with her heart, there was also something else - something lighter. A giddiness in her belly that curled with delight at being recognized, at being seen. Yasha always saw her and understood her in ways that others never could. And Yasha thanked her once before for not judging her, but Beau had never gotten the chance to thank Yasha for doing the same.

So she pressed a little closer and clung a little tighter and hoped that Yasha understood her now, too.

There was nowhere else for them to go, no rush in these tight quarters.

Beau adjusted, moving her lips to a more comfortable angle and Yasha met her halfway. The Aasimar inhaled, and Beau realized from where she still pressed against Yasha’s chest that she was inhaling, too. Beau had lost track of time, just clinging to the awareness that there was nothing else she wanted at the moment.

(Maybe she wanted to get out of this cave, but that could wait just a little longer.)

They only broke apart, breath stuttering from their shared pattern, when Jester’s voice rang in Beau’s head.

Beau! Where are you guys? We’re all waiting, but we don’t know if you found anything. Are you guys making out? Please let me know!

Clearing her throat as she laughed awkwardly, Beau just barely remembered to respond. She hoped her voice didn’t sound as wrecked as she felt.

“Hey, Jes,” she said, shooting a glance to Yasha, who blushed but grinned anyway. “We’re a bit...stuck. Our tunnel caved in. Probably about a three-minute walk down. Help us out, please.”

She wasn’t sure if that had fit in the allotted length of Jester’s spell, but the magic dissipated a moment later, so she figured it worked. She shrugged to hide another cold induced shudder and flicked a look up at Yasha. The barbarian regarded her fondly, fingers tracing idle patterns in the coat’s fabric up and down Beau’s arm. It was such a tender gesture that Beau felt her cheeks heat as she ducked her head.

“I guess we’ll be out soon,” Yasha said.

“Yeah,” Beau said eloquently. “I r-really need to str-stretch my legs.”

She didn’t realize how much her teeth were chattering as she spoke until Yasha shifted her around. The barbarian’s eyes lit with concern as she reached a hand out to brush the stray locks of Beau’s hair from her face. Beau, a little dizzy from the kiss and the relief of knowing their friends were coming, gave Yasha’s concern a dazed smile.

“Yer super hot, y’know that?” Beau slurred, leaning into the hand Yasha had cupped to Beau’s cheek. The dizziness and loopy sensation were more likely a result of the magical cold in her blood. But Beau couldn’t find it in herself to be that concern when it meant Yasha would keep holding her close.

“We need to get out of here, fast,” Yasha said, more to herself than anything. She shifted beneath Beau and the monk sucked in a sharp breath, clinging weakly to Yasha as the space started spinning with wild abandon.

“I don’ feel good...” Beau managed, her fingers like ice and her limbs cold and useless. “‘M cold.”

“I know,” Yasha whispered, one arm tightening around Beau’s shoulders as the other reached for her sword. It was clear, even through her icy haze, that Yasha did not know what she was going to do with her sword. She seemed desperate to just get them both out of this cave in.

Beau lost track of time after that, everything going fuzzy and floaty and cold. But Yasha’s arm around her remained a solid constant and Beau couldn’t find it in herself to worry about their dilemma. There was some muffled shouting at one point, something about ‘hurry’ and ‘stoneshape’.

She just wanted to sleep.

Warm hands touched her abdomen and a searing heat that felt like pure sunlight injected into her bloodstream shot from the point of contact. The ice in her veins evaporated rapidly and Beau came back to herself with a strangled gasp. Caduceus smiled down at her, giving Beau a gentle pat before stepping away.

“There ya go,” his familiar timbre rumbled. “Good as new.”

Beau pushed out a shaky sigh and realized that Yasha was still holding her.

“Hey,” she croaked with a grin.

“Are you okay?” Yasha fret in that soft voice of hers.

“Yeah,” Beau reassured her, rolling her ankles to crack them. “I feel good as new. Sorry for scaring you...I didn’t think it would get that bad that fast.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t heal you,” Yasha apologized as she set Beau on her feet, a hand still lingering against Beau’s back.

“You did what you could,” Beau waved away the apology. “I think everything you did helped me fight it off as long as I did.”

Neither of them mentioned the kiss as Caleb roped Beau into a fierce hug. Nor when Jester, Veth, and Fjord took a moment to fuss over her. Neither of them mentioned the kiss when Vess interrupted their reunion to remind them of their mission, nor when they trekked back toward the mouth of the cave. Neither of them brought it up as the party pulled their hoods up and tightened buttons, pulled gloves snug and secured their scarves.

Beau unfastened the clasp of Yasha’s cloak where it rested against her clavicle as the others headed back into the snow. She turned to Yasha, who caught the cloak before it could leave her shoulders, and tugged it firmly back over Beau’s frame, securing the fastenings with deft fingers.

“You keep it for now,” Yasha said to Beau’s confused look. “You need it more. Besides, it looks good on you.”

Beau felt her cheeks flush at the compliment as Yasha leaned down to press a lingering kiss to the flustered monk’s lips. This one didn’t last as long, didn’t end with syncopated breaths. But it warmed Beau from head to toe.

Neither of them mentioned the kiss as they walked from the cave side-by-side, wearing matching grins.

[chunhua-s]

WE FOUND EACH OTHER  ➽ ASAHI AZUMANE X READER

PART OF THE HAIKYUU SOULMATES! ONESHOT SERIES

genre: fluff

soulmate au: the person can only see black and white until they meet their soulmate, then they’ll be able to see colour

warnings: none

if there’s one thing asahi hates hearing, it would be that he was lucky to have a soulmate.

he understands the idea. many people are envious or amazed at the idea that there are others who have their destined someone, the man or woman who would instantly fit into his life like the missing piece of a puzzle. it’s an awfully romantic idea, and honestly, asahi can get the appeal of having that special someone for yourself and eventually finding them.

what people often forget, or rather are blissfully ignorant of, is that people with soulmates are unable to perceive colours until they meet their counterparts. until they find that missing piece of their puzzle, they’d be bound to see the world in a dull monochrome, where the grey of the sea blend in with the horizon and the stars in the sky are nothing but small dots on a black canvas.

it’s within moments like this, when he takes a break from all his homework and assignments for his design class, where he wishes that he could appreciate the same world of vibrancy and brilliance that his friends are able to see. when koushi tells him that the blue sweater they saw together at the shopping center would suit him well; when his professors, ever mindful that he’s one of the few people in the world fated to for someone else, gently assist him in making choices for his designs; when the old store clerk innocently compliments him on his brown eyes, he always lets his mind wonder to far places, creating fantasies where the black and white would transform into the same, vibrant palette that his friends could see. would the baby blue that koushi told him about brush against his bare feet like the gentle brush of the waves on the beach? and that bright red that his teacher advised him to add to his design, is it like the scorching heat of summer or the chill of a cold winter day? is the brown of his eyes like the sweet caramel treats he enjoys? does it melt his heart the way they melt on his tongue?

his pen hangs languidly between idle fingers, the silence of the design studio filling up with the ambience of kitchen movement that comes from the video he watches on his phone. with his cheek pressed into his open palm, asahi sighs to himself as he watches the person on screen spread layers of icing over the cake they made. he’d come across this particular baking channel on wetube a little over a year ago, when one of their videos popped into his recommendations and he kept watching them make all sorts of different cakes and sweet treats.

<ah, i don’t even know what colour this is! hey, if the cake comes out looking silly for those of you who are able to see colour, i sincerely apologize in advance. . .>

a chuckle falls from his lips as he reads the captions in their video, feeling an instant sense of empathy as he also couldn’t tell what colour icing they were adding to the cake. earlier in their video while they were mixing the ingredients together, they’d confessed in their captions that they were unable to see colour, just like he was. and similarly, it was because they had yet to find their soulmate.

<is that weird? i always post videos about baking where you all can see the different colours i use but i myself have no idea how everything looks beyond monochrome!>

he watches their hand reach outside the frame to replace one icing pouch for another — this one being a darker shade of grey than the one before it. asahi tries to guess what colour it would be as they begin to make small patterns around the edges. is it koushi’s shade of baby blue? or is it the orange of hinata’s hair?

<anyways, this is the first time i’m making something so ambitious! normally i stick to plain cakes that don’t require so much decoration because I always worry i’ll mess up the colours :( but today i wanted to try something different!>

ha, asahi could understand that sentiment. it’s the same with the clothes he designs, never certain whether or not brown and purple would mix together well, or how light or dark he should go with different hues. he always ends up asking for help from sugawara or daichi for their opinion, even reaching out to noya whenever he could. and yet, even as they give him their feedback and tips, he would always wish that he didn’t have to; that he would be able to make those choices for himself rather than depending on the eyes and perception of another. his heart twists a bit inside his chest with the weight of those thoughts, forcing him to take a deep breath in an effort to reel himself in before his thoughts run any farther. instead, he focuses his attention on watching the careful actions of the hands on screen.

<i’m sure you guys can tell that i’m still a little uncertain since i used white icing to surround the entire cake — how can i tell that it’s white, you ask? well, because it’s white! of course i can see at least that clearly haha! (unless this isn’t actually white and instead a really really light shade of some other colour :v that would be so embarassing!>

he couldn’t fight the smile that touches his lips as he reads the words on screen. they always enjoy making small jokes with their viewers in the caption, never failing to draw small chuckles from him whenever he paused his work to watch them. countless times has he read about how difficult it is to whisk so many ingredients together, the imitations of sighing faces and emojis with their little fists pumping into the air causing an odd sense of endearment to grow in his heart. and yet, even as they complain, they always make sure to do their absolute best in making their cakes and sweet treats, all of which asahi is certain taste as good as they appear to be.

<i’m sure you all will let me know in the comments if the colours i chose are okay, right? please look after your clumsy baker, she’s trying her best for you all!>

asahi feels one eyebrow lift at that: this is the first time they — she — ever announced her gender since he started watching her channel. he’d once speculated when he saw the delicate appearance of her small hands, though he quickly dismissed that assumption as he recalled the way suga’s own hands could be considered feminine. though the detail itself isn’t very important, asahi tucks it away in a small compartment of his brain, stashing it along with all the other miscellaneous information he’s built up since watching her channel (like the fact that she seems to favour cute, anime and animal-themed appliances, and that she owns a small figurine of totoro that always appears in her videos, or that sometimes she likes to play wii music over clips of failed attempts and bloopers, etc etc....).

<tadaa! the lemon cake is finally finished!>

the familiarity of the soft piano music that begins to play fills him up with an odd sense of comfort, one that never evades him when she places the final display of her cake in the video. all across the surface are littered tiny mounds of icing, appearing like drops of candy with smaller, darker pieces scattered between and around them. asahi can’t help the thought that floods his brain of how good the cake must taste, and he feels himself crave the taste of it even more as she cuts herself a slice. using a fork, she breaks off a small piece of it, the sound of the metal hitting glass reaching in its own kind of ambience before it disappears outside of the frame. one, two, three seconds pass before she gives a thumbs up to the camera.

<i can’t speak for appearance but the taste turned out well!>

asahi doesn’t doubt the validity of that statement as he watches the fork return for another piece, feeling his own cravings spike. it’s truly masochistic that he chooses to watch videos like this that always make him hungry, he considers belatedly. even if he eats before watching her videos, he finds himself wishing for a slice of whatever sweet food she creates. “maybe i should try baking something myself...” he mutters out loud, glancing at the clock on the far wall.

6:43 pm.

he barely spares time to think on his decision before he’s pushing himself out of his chair, reaching for his backpack and wallet and making his way out the door of the studio. the convenience store nearby should have something he could use to bake, shouldn’t it? or at the very least, something sweet that he can buy until he has enough money to go to a supermarket (he’s certain his college student pocket won’t be able to sustain any heavy shopping right now).

the autumn night’s cold air brushes against his skin and he tucks his hands into his hoodie, shivering into himself as the breath falls from his lips like a cloud. all around him, the world dims into a monochromatic serenity, the kind that appeared to him with an amazing kind of beauty where the streetlights shone brightly against the dark sky. he can’t begin to explain what changed for him that night; maybe it’s the thought of getting himself a slice of chocolate cake and a chilly drink, or perhaps the cool temperatures that causes the blood to rush to his face, but asahi thinks that the night is oddly enchanting. the sigh that leaves his lips is a bit wistful as he looks skyward. would it be even more beautiful if he’d been able to see colour?

the sound of the store clerk greeting him as he enters the convenience store is a familiar thing to him by now as he politely nods his head to him, turning to make his way to the refrigerators that kept singular slices of cake. pursing his lips, he skims his eyes across the labels in search for a specific kind, and he smiles in satisfaction when he sees a package of lemon cake. “this will have to do until i can buy the ingredients,” he sighs to himself and looks over to where the drinks are.

when he sees her there, he freezes. or rather, it’s as if time itself stops moving around him.

the large sweater she wears is a light grey colour, and her sweatpants are just a tad darker. monochromatic, nothing that asahi isn’t used to seeing. what startles him, taking the breath out of his lungs, is the brown colour that he sees on her. it’s deep in her skin, so rich and enticing and so absolutely mesmerizing. she’s mesmerizing, like the picture of a goddess come to stand before him when the black of her hair runs so much deeper than he’s ever seen, slicked back so that it puffs atop her head. the earrings that she wears, small things that fit snugly into her piercings shine brighter than white, they glitter with a luster that asahi has always imagined belonged to silver. as she stands before the closed refrigerator door, a hand brought beneath her chin and her lips pushing out into a contemplative pout, the scenery around her starts to transform and bleed. the monochrome world that asahi’s always known since his birth blends out and morphs with a brilliance that he’s only ever heard his friends talk to him about. he feels his heart hurt with an indescribable kind of joy and wonder, love and fascinating wonder and a sense of yearning as he watches the colours from her figure like the birth of a star.

and yet, even as everything before and around him is changing, she remains the most beautiful thing to him — the blues and yellows, pastels and oranges all dull in comparison to her.

he doesn’t know what moves him forward. something inside him causes his feet to take him towards her without his knowing wish and as he gets closer to her, he’s absolutely terrified. is this real? is he really going to meet his soulmate? what if this is only happening to him and she’ll think he’s weird? the fear that eats away at his heart causes him to stop, and he’s so close to turning away when, by a strange twist of fate, she turns her head just barely to the side where he stands, and her eyes find his.

he can see the very moment when she experiences the same thing that he’d felt only moments before; his heart swells up at the way her brown eyes line with tears and glisten like jewels under the white light of the convenience store. heavens above, she’s so breathtaking, it’s the only thing asahi can think as his fists curl out at his sides, nearly hesitant to touch her for fear that he would ruin the moment between them. his voice loses itself in his throat and gone are all the words he used to think about for when this moment would finally happen. every “it’s nice to meet you,” and “wow, you’re beautiful,” evades him and flee from his mind, leaving him choked up before her until she breaks their silence first.

“it’s the same for you, right?”

her voice sounds to him like a beautiful melody.

frantically, he nods, fearful that if he waits to long that the moment would vanish into thin air around him and disappear. “i’m—“ breathe, he reminds himself, breathe. take a deep breath. “i’m asahi.”

she smiles up at him, appearing radiant and ethereal, and asahi finds himself marveling once again. “i’m (y/n),” there’s joyous laughter and mirth in her voice. “wow, i didn’t think i’d meet my soulmate in the convenience store of all places.”

the man chuckles along with her, and just like that, all his fears and worries melt away, falling from his mind until it becomes a distant memory and all that he’s left with is this moment, being with her and letting his heart run wild on the wings of fluttering crows. “are you busy right now?” he offers her, lifting one hand to show her the lemon cake he picked up before (he notices belatedly that the colour of it is yellow, a deep and vibrant yellow that makes his eyes hurt if he looks too long). when she glances down at his treat and noticed the label, her smile widens and lights up the room.

“no, not at all!” she answers cheerfully before her expression turns nervous, brows furrowing as she searched his expression. “would you... like to talk for a little? i’m not too certain how to do this whole soulmate thing and i won’t lie to you,” a sheepish chuckle falls from her lips as she rubs the back of her neck. “i’m not entirely sure what we’re supposed to do now.”

asahi understands exactly how she feels, and won’t deny the small bit of nervousness that lingers at the bottom of his heart, but for him the excitement and intense longing for the woman before him is nearly enough to push that feeling aside. it’s like the rush he used to feel before his matches in high school, like the feeling of needing to shout out in triumph when there’s a victory waiting for him on the other side of the net. and at the same time, it all feels like he’s come to the end of a long journey, where he finally reaches the oasis and can have his first sip of life-giving water. and so, he smiles down at her, showing to her his heart and everything he felt in that moment; it all climbs and soars into a crescendo as he sees everything he gives to her reflecting right back at him in deep and beautiful brown eyes.

“i don’t have a clue what we’re meant to do either,” he confesses breathlessly. it falls from his lips and slots into place like the missing piece of a puzzle. “but how about we take it slow? after all,”

the world around him shines brightly and sings with all sorts of colours. but his eyes can’t look away from hers.

“we’ve finally found each other.”

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

this is part of a series, so please send me an ask or dm if you’d like to be apart of a taglist! i’m currently taking request for haikyuu characters and soulmate au’s, so please come and leave your requests for those as well! so far i already have one planned for ushijima, but if you guys want to ask for anyone else please leave me requests in my ask box! thank you for reading!  ♡

next stop: wakatoshi ushijima!

[kurinoot]

[day 1] one box of chocolates | tendou satori

-> you’ve been wanting to surprise your boyfriend with your own batch of chocolates and better yet, grace him with your presence this coming valentines. to your shock, you got more than what you thought it would be.

pairing: tendou x reader

themes: fluff, post-timeskip

word count: 2125 words

author’s note: I can’t believe I’m writing again! hahaha, and tendou being my first haikyuu character to create a fic uwu anyways, he was kinda hard to write on as he only got shots from seasons 3 and 4, so this may somehow seem ooc but please, I do accept constructive criticisms :) enjoy!

btw, I added a music in specific parts of the story so you can play them if you want so as to add some touches while you’re reading :)

"Ah, I hope the chocolates haven't melted yet!", you sigh tiredly with worry as you scramble your hand inside your carry-on bag, carefully checking your box of handmade chocolates as you make your way through the bustling Paris Charles de Gaulle Airport. The almost 14-hour non-stop flight has definitely taken a toll on you and the jet lag is definitely not helping you either.

You finally feel the cold air kissing your skin as you drag your way out of the airport, gingerly carrying your baggage all the while ensuring that your handmade gift is in good hands. Apparently, you weren't informed that Paris in February would require you more layers of clothing than what the thin sweater you’re wearing could offer. With a rush, you immediately went to the nearest vacant taxi. You rattled your brain for some basic French, muttering a soft “Bonjour” as you pinpoint the driver to your phone, showing him your destination. After a while, you finally feel the weight of the jet lag in your body. You deeply sigh as you finally let yourself sink in the back seat of the taxi. The driver seemed to know something, if you fumbling with your words and the way you slumped on the back seat was a sign.

"Rough day, mademoiselle?", the driver asks you in English (to, at least, your surprise) with a rough French accent, smiling. You brighten up a bit despite the stress, "Uh yes, monsieur. Am I right? It's probably the jet lag, but yeah.".

"Don't worry, your basic French is good! So, what is a young mademoiselle doing here alone? And on Valentines’ Day?”

“Ah merci! I’m actually here to visit this chocolate shop.”, you reply with a bright smile as you pinpoint your phone to the said location once again. He grins, to your surprise.

“Ah yes! That shop is actually famous around these parts, especially this Valentines’ season. Although, the owner is quite weird and even creepy for most people from what I heard around here.”, he mentions, and despite getting accustomed to how most people see Satori, you felt your hand cusp into a fist as you gritted your teeth, seething in annoyance and preparing to fight back or even to get off the taxi.

“Yet despite the rumors, he’s a kind young man. Eccentric one, I admit, but he knows the chocolate fit for the customer. Hell, he even helped me pick for my wife!” The driver continues, chuckling at the memory.

You feel all the anger in you disappear, proud of your boyfriend, as it was somewhat kind of rare for you to hear good compliments about him, “That’s just probably how other people see him. I would say, he’s a tad too eccentric for most people. He’s kind and soft-hearted and cute if you get to know him beyond the surface.”, you reply languidly with proud eyes.

You saw his eyes glance at you, before looking back at the road.

Unknowingly, your smile didn’t falter at the memory of Satori. “In fact, the owner is my boyfriend! And I’m actually here to visit — or rather, surprise him today!”

The driver chuckled softly, “Figures. You were talking about the owner like he’s your lover, and,” He paused, his eyes gazed towards the photograph of a woman that you took notice of earlier. “I can say the same.” His voice became tender as he continued driving.

You have finally arrived at your boyfriend’s little happy place, much to your joy and excitement. You immediately paid the driver and thanked him for the ride (and for the conversation). As soon as you get out of the cab, the driver calls you out, rummages something from a compartment in his cab, and surprises you with a lush red rose, thankfully free of its prickly thorns.

"You somehow remind me of me and my wife when we were younger, and it's Valentines' Season and better yet, you're in the City of Love! So please, take this as a Valentines' souvenir, mademoiselle".

"Oh you didn't have to, monsieur!"

“Good luck with that boyfriend of yours, mademoiselle! Yer both lucky to have each other.”, he says, somehow inspired by how you defended Satori as he mutters an ‘ah, young love’ to himself afterwards as he waves before driving to his next destination. Despite the jet lag creeping in your system, you grasp the remaining energy you have to at least surprise your boyfriend with your presence in the spirit of Valentines' Day in the City of Love.

I can't believe I'm in Paris, and I'm seeing Satori's shop for the first time!, you thought as you giddily reached for the eccentric gold-gilded handle of the door, slowly opening the door to the shop. The instant scent of the cocoa hit right through your senses as your eyes ran across the various chocolates on display. Walking further, you were graced with the view of your beloved with his back on you, occupied with washing his tools to finish the day as he sways his hips to the rhythm of the song he’s humming so softly.

He stops humming as soon as he hears the chime of the door bell, "Je suis désolée, on est fermé. (I’m sorry, we’re closed)", you hear Satori with bits of his Japanese accent as he continued humming afterwards, clueless of who had entered his shop.

"Well, I was thinking of grabbing a Valentines' special with my boyfriend.", you replied teasingly, emphasizing the word boyfriend, which left the budding chocolatier a bit frozen in shock as he turned to your direction with wide eyes before shifting to a smirk as he leans on the countertop, narrowing his eyes towards you as an “Oh, what do we have here?” leaves his mouth.

“My Sugar!”, he nearly screamed, seeing you as he dropped everything he’s doing and rushed to hug you tightly, not caring about his wet hands.

You lovingly welcome his arms as you hug him back tightly, soaking in his presence after being separated for so long.

“I missed you so much, Satori!”, you pout as you felt him tightening his embrace, as you savored his warmth after a long flight, his breath tickling the nape of your neck. You gasp a little bit as he gently caresses your hair, maximizing his hug with you to finally see, touch, and feel you in person.

You felt Satori loosen his arms, as you immediately replaced with the warmth of the Parisian cold, much to your disappointment. Without you knowing, Satori sees even the slightest of your body trembling from the current weather and rushes back in the kitchen to grab his Shiratorizawa jacket, much to your surprise. He then returns to you, gracefully sliding the jacket over your shoulders.

You pout at him with a prominent blush on your plump cheeks, “Thank you, Satori”, to which he replies with another hug much tighter compared to the one a few minutes ago.

“I love, love, LOVE you so much, my chocolate ice cream!”, he exclaimes as you were suddenly smothered with a couple of pecks — light kisses on your head. You snuggled closer to his chest, eagerly smelling his sweet scent of chocolate that suddenly reminded you of your handmade chocolate that you’ve left unattended for hours. You quickly scramble away from the contact, much to your endearing boyfriend’s curiosity, to see if the chocolate has withstood not only the long flight, but also Satori’s warm, tight hugs. Luckily, the red cardboard box was sturdy enough and only had a couple dents — making you sigh in relief. As soon as you pull out the box, you see your boyfriend narrowing his eyes to the direction of the box with peaked curiosity.

“Ah, what do we have here?” Satori teases, pulling off a smirk, eyes still on the box as he receives it. He gave it a little shake, that made you giggle as he playfully tried to guess what was inside. Although you could feel your cheeks burning in embarrassment with each second passing. You look away in embarrassment as you watch him. He looks at you with piqued interest, wondering what has gotten you a bit tad embarrassed, if the pink in your cheeks were even a telltale sign.

You anxiously mumbled, “W-Well, I mean, my boyfriend probably makes the best chocolate in the world, so it k-kinda sucks that the only Valentines’ gift I can give you is a box of chocolates that I have made—”, you got cut off as you see and hear your boyfriend already popping one of the chocolates in his mouth, much to your chagrin. To your surprise, he kept popping more and more of the chocolates, savoring each delight.

“Waif, lemme geth sum hot milk.” he says, with his mouth full of your handmade chocolates as he scrambles back to the kitchen, heating up some milk. As you wait for him, you notice a gramophone on the countertop with a vinyl record already in place, with Edith Piaf written on on the center portion in black marker, which you found cute as you imagined Satori listening to Edith Piaf while doing his daily chocolate-making routine. You try to play the music and much to your delight, your head gently swayed to the song, and eventually your body. Immediately after the song has started, your body has already succumbed to the rhythm of the music that you didn’t notice Satori returning with two mugs of hot milk. He grins, enjoying the view of you dancing to French music as he places the mugs down on the counter. He slowly sways as he walks up to you, his hands snaking around your waist from your back as your bodies swing leisurely to the rhythm, much to your surprise yet you quickly relax as you lean back on him, holding his hands around your waist.

Never in your wildest dreams have you imagined that the Satori Tendou, your boyfriend, the oddball, would be dancing with you like this, alone in his chocolate shop under the moonlight on Valentines’ Day in the City of Love. It was too much for your heart to handle, and probably for his heart, too.

You dance for a couple more minutes until the song slowly fades. He then relishes the way he holds you, albeit the music has already finished. You both savor each other’s presence a few more, before Satori then gets the mugs of hot milk, not wanting to waste the good heat on a cold Parisian night. You gladly accept the milk with one hand, as you grasp his jacket with the other, not wanting to feel even the slightest cold breeze. Your boyfriend then leads you to a seat on the counter, sitting next to you as he prepares his mug and your box of chocolates, now with only a few pieces.

“I never thought you would actually go here in Paris”, he starts, as he pops another one of your chocolate in his mouth, followed by gulping down his warm milk.

“I never thought I would actually go here, but I’m grateful that I did, because this is the best Valentines’ Day I’ve ever had!”, you beam as you hold your mug with both hands, relishing the warmth as you drink down your milk.

Tendou then takes note of your chocolates, “You know, I was thinking of adding your chocolates to the menu, and credit you also. Probably name it Le Chocolat Y/N Au Lait Special or something!” You smiled and held a hand on your chest, feeling how warm it suddenly felt.

“Satori, I’d love to.”, you replied, to which his smile grew bright that could burst your heart to how cute he is.

Your beloved continues to chew and drink, looking around when he notices the fresh red rose from earlier sitting atop of your luggage. You follow his line of sight, immediately seeing the lone rose. You finish drinking your milk before you tell him enthusiastically, “Ah! That was given by the taxi driver that drove me earlier. Said that we somehow reminded him of him and his wife on Valentine's Day in the City of Love in this same shop, so he gave me one.”, imitating the way your driver said City of Love. Much to your shock, Satori sardonically laughs, saying it was a tad bit too French, at least for his taste.

While finishing the last remnants of your warm milk, he then goes to the nearby gramophone and plays another Edith Piaf classic. You glance at him with curiosity as he looks at you smugly, stretching out his hand as he invites you to another  dance.

“So, where were we?”

back to valentines masterlist

[savnofilter]

Another Year Together

Todoroki x 『GN』Reader

↬ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ(s): intoxication, mentions of partying too hard, injuries and cleaning said injuries, crack (?), fluff.

↬ᴡᴄ: 2.5k [10 mins].

↬ᴀ/ɴ: ahhhh i was bummed that i dont have any sfw shouto reqs *cough cough* send some- *cough cough* anyways so i made up a scenario of my own! i have more fluff ideas i'd love to put out but this may be the birthday fic or i'll post something else tonight if i can~ every time there needs to be a party, just know either mina or kaminari threw it. also its a little rushed because i wanted to get this out tonight and this is the longest sfw piece ive ever written. ;; pffft hopefully you all will love this as much as i loved writing it, happy birthday shouto!

"Stay still." Shouto muttered to you as you squirmed away from the harsh sting the disinfectant alcohol caused your bruised skin.

"Mmmnhmm... M' sorry." You utter haltingly, your leg jerking once more from the sudden sensation. You look up at him with puppy eyes, guilt-stricken as you have already broken your promise.

He stared at you for a few seconds before his gaze softened as you stuck out your bottom lip with a sorrowful look on your face. As he smooths the cloth over your exposed thighs, he softly sighs under his breath, expertly concealing the roll of his eyes. Todoroki was relieved that your reflexes were still in shape, the abuse of the liquor not interfering much with your cognition... at least not too much. 

You two shared the same birthday. He had no idea that celebrating your big day of turning 21 would've been so hectic. As many things between you and Todorooki, you guys took today as a competition. The day started with you both trying to one-up each other since Todoroki’s lucky day was yours as well. First, your day with a breakfast made by him -- with the assistance of Bakugo of course. You couldn’t help the warm swell in your heart at how much effort he had put into it but it wouldn’t top you! While you two interned at the same agency it was pretty easy to surprise him with a big B-Day lunch and an obnoxious bouquet.

“This is a little too much…” 

“There is no such thing as too much for you, Sho.”

Truthfully, he felt that way because he wanted to wow you as well. He was glad that today was a calm day concerning his patrol watch, giving him time to map up his day today and think about all the other miscellaneous thoughts that roamed his head. The painting he had saved for this momentous day sat in the back of his head as he patrolled the streets, the small accessory along with it sitting next to the rest of his pee-pee pouches making him grow nervous. I had kept the small item with him in fear of losing it, the last thing he needed was it to go missing under his watch.

You on the other handheld no qualms about goofing off for the day. Now, you weren’t entirely wasting away the day, you just simply knew how to let loose. With the great news you’d be staying in the office you had more than enough time to help plan and finalize Todoroki’s surprise birthday party. You bit your lip as you checked in with your longtime friend, Kaminari, to host the momentous occasion. Your mind was mostly occupied with the thought of the party and the small but significant present that you had in your desk draw. You and Todoroki had the same mind, the only thing setting you apart is you somehow being more… airhead than him. 

Impossible, right? Not at all. That’s how it explains why he was busy cleaning up your injuries.

After being sent home early you had taken him out to lunch for some soba and well, boba as a great lunch treat — simple enough. You both were full upon going back home, giving you two a few hours to snuggle up and nap to rejoice with the sleep you two had lost from over the time having part-time heroes. Holding back the excited news of the party was hard to do, the first thing you did when you woke up was jump up and usher him to get up as well.

“What -- why??” Shouto glared as he was forced to sit up, rubbing his eyes with the free hand that you didn’t use to pull him up.

“C’mooonn! I just have one more thing to show you for today!” You beam brightly. Your facial expression was as bright as ever like you hadn’t just slept for 4 hours before that. Everything in his body wanted to resist but he couldn’t as he wouldn’t bring himself to. It took but only an hour for the both of you to get ready, sending Kaminari a quick text to make sure that everything was set for sure. 

“Honey, I know this might sound a little odd but I need you to put this on.” You hand him the blindfold once you find him dressed and ready. You couldn’t help but grin at his confused face when he stares at the piece of fabric.

“I thought you said we were going out?” He asks mildly confused, taking it and putting it on anyway.

You paused and gave yourself a moment to think about his response, your cheeks feeling hot at the insinuation. Todoroki’s small giggle makes you feel better about your flustered words, rolling your eyes annoyed when he teased you like that. “Just hold onto my hand okay?” You instruct, hand coming up to hold him as an example. He nods his head as he follows your lead, more excited than what he led on.

The trip from your apartment down to your car didn’t take too long, the assistance of helping him not trip over his shoes harder than you thought. It was hard to keep back your laugh as he fumbled here and there, the most highlight of your experience was helping him in his care (like he usually did with you) and even buckling in his seat (not something he did for you). You were practically buzzing in your seat in excitement as you took off as soon as you were ready, the journey to his place not too far from your own. You bobbed your head to the music of the radio as you vibed along with the beats, fingers tapping the steering wheel as you mumbled the lyrics to whatever song played. Had it not been winter time in Japan you would’ve had the windows down, but you had to settle with the subtle and gentle breeze of the heaters on your skin instead.

“We’re here.” You announced your arrival. You used the keycard Kaminari had given you as the entrance to his apartment complex and zoomed-in irresponsibly. It was easy finding a parking space on the higher levels conveniently the same as his home. You hopped out and helped Todoroki out from his seat and helped him to the elevator. “Promise me to have fun, okay?” The question was simple enough, but your level of fun always exceeded his. 

The sentence made him turn in your direction with confusion heavy on the top of his head. You took out the key from your pocket and jiggled it into the lock. As soon as he was about to open his mouth you yoinked the blindfold off his eyes, the first thing his eyes seeing your cheerful grin and everyone popping up from their hiding places and throwing the decorations up that they held in their hands.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” 

Todoroki was taken back from the whole thing. How many people were there, the familiar faces, the decorations, and just overall effort that was put into this. He couldn’t help but look over at you with the same adoration he normally did when you looked the other way. He was greeted by so many of his friends and mutuals, the overwhelming amount of gifts that sat on the table, and the arrangement of food and drinks that sat up in the spacious room. In the back of his head, he knew he would have to keep an eye on you, and he was right.

The group had gathered to get some cake to get it out the way, the bonus of ice cream filling your tummy with happiness. As soon as you had finished your dessert plate, you declared everyone should loosen up; since no one objected, you went straight for shots. First, it was one, two, then it was two at once, then it was some straight from Mina’s belly button. You held no restraint at your alcohol intake, taking the immature opportunity to drink to your heart’s content. While you were liberal with your amount, Todoroki decided to take in practically none. The verses of your habits are almost amusing to watch like your two contrasting but similar personalities.

Later in the night when the mayhem had started. You and a few friends decided to dance on a few more dangerous surfaces, guaranteeing the sacrifice of one of them being Kaminari’s glass table. 

“Holy shit—” Mina quickly rushed to your side, the same drunken posture and smile on her face as she tried to help you up, careful not to get the same glass shards that scattered the floor. “Are you okay-?!”

“YO Y/N WILDING!” Denki tries helping you up too, the help of the duo helping you somewhat.

You stumbled to get up, the flashlight of other people’s phones making you weary. “I-I’m fine-” You managed to let out, standing as you tried to clear your head and drink the water handed towards you. Either the H2O in that cup gave you courage or you simply went crazy. “let’s go again!” 

Todoroki was left speechless upon watching you continue to party on, knowing damn well he'd have to stop you soon. He wasn’t one to attend parties, and most times when he did they always ended up like this. It seemed after your fall that the knock had given you a sign to calm down at least, deciding to drink more beverages that didn’t hold liquor in it. After some time he had managed to get you in his lap, holding you as he monitored your well-being. 

As much as your reckless behavior would have annoyed someone else, he found it almost endearing. Well… not really in the sense you were drinking yourself silly, but in the fact that you still had the spirit to keep up and party even after the effects of your last hour of madness. It wasn’t long till you had gotten comfortable in his arms you had successfully partied yourself to sleep. Todoroki was careful in lifting you, thanking everyone from attending before quietly slipping out from the apartment. 

He took a deep breath as he somehow managed to find your car, maneuvering to get you into the car and hopping in on his side to drive you home. Todoroki made sure to drive carefully in hopes that you wouldn’t barf all over his car that you had used to get there. The drive back was much quicker than when you two had headed up since it was practically dead at night and the streets empty. He liked drives like these. A part of him was sad that you weren’t awake for it.

Your boyfriend repeated the same process when he had pulled into your apartment complex, picking up your body and bringing you up to your shared home. He was dedicated to getting you situated, prepared to take care of you as much as he needed to. That’s how he found himself tending to your scrapes and bruises right now.

“You know I’m never going to let you drink again.” Shouto teases you, smirking lightly at your sad expression.

“You’d never!” You argued back with the same teasing tone, moving to cross your arms, stifling the pain as you did so.

Todoroki snorts at your dedication to hold up the act, nodding his head as he finished cleaning up your legs. “You’re right. But don’t expect me not to monitor you from now on.” 

A smile tugs at your lips at his words, uncrossing your arms. The lingering drunk feeling still played in how you thought and spoke but not managing to affect how effortless it was to talk to Shouto. You blushed when he picked up your hands, kissing the back of your hands as he spoke to you once again.

“I have a present for you.” He mutters against your skin, eyes trained on the fresh bandages before looking up at you. He wasn’t looking for an answer and he didn’t wait for one either. He hoped that you couldn’t tell that he was weary, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small velvet box. 

Your eyes widened at the realization of what he held in his hand, your heart beating faster as you sat up in your chair. “Sh-Sho?”

“It’s not what you think.” He responds almost defensively. Shouto bites his lip in anticipation, fiddling with the little box. “... it’s a promise ring,” Todoroki concludes. He felt like he had to explain himself for the slightly expensive jewelry. “If you don’t want it-”

You had engulfed him in a hug, pulling him tight against you as you had started to sob. You couldn’t think of words for how happy you were. The only thing that had taken over your body was actions. You nuzzled your face into his neck once his arms wrapped around your shaking your body. His hands soothingly rubbed your back, letting you get out what you wanted. He couldn’t help but laugh when you pull away with the most love-filled face he’d ever seen you make.

“You okay?”

“I’m perfect!” You hastily wiped your face with the help of Shouto, shakily laughing once he leaned into pepper your face with kisses. 

“I was afraid that I scared you,” Shouto admits. You shake your head as you grab his hands, placing his palms on your cheeks, appreciating his soft palms.

“No… your hands are really soft…” You mumble. Your mind went blank as you tried to remember the next line you were going to speak, pouting as you looked around for the answer. The shock of him handing you the ring has successfully shaken you into processing your brain a little better, the heavy impacts of your drinking still lingering on.

“Are you okay?” He asks, worried. You nod your head in affirmation. 

“A kiss could cheer me up.” You give him the same puppy eyes that you used before, weaponizing your cuteness to your advantage. He slightly cringed at the thought, hesitating before leaning in and placing a soft kiss against yours. He prepared himself to taste the alcohol against his lips. He pulled away once he deemed it ready, wiping his mouth and getting the ring he kept in his hand the whole day.

“I think you owe me by wearing the ring for making me kiss you.” He huffs, slipping the ring on your finger, his heart beating at the sound of your giggle.

“Nah you love me without the ring~”

“Yes, but I’d prefer you with it on.” He stands up and holds his hand out for you, taking you into his arms once again for the night and carrying you to your room. “For now get some rest, okay?” He sat you down on the bed and got you changed out of your clothes, sneaking in a few playful kisses here and there to make you laugh. Shouto’s main focus was just to get you situated to sleep peacefully for the night. 

“G’night, Sho…” You mutter to him as you got comfortable in the sheets. Although the returning soreness didn’t go away you had managed to close your eyes and get comfortable.

“Goodnight.” He watched you until you fell asleep before leaving the room to prepare for you the pain medication you’d need in the morning for your impending hangover. 

You never needed the promise ring to let you know he loved you; his actions always told you so.

[spice-chan]

Runaway Omega

Sho’s end.

You clutched your stomach as a pain filled spasm tore through your body.

Shoto, who was beside you, took your hand as he looked at you worriedly.

“(Y/n), whats wrong ?! It’s not supposed to be time yet.” Shoto put his hand on your back and worriedly looked you over, his heart breaking at the sight of your face scrunched up in pain.

Bakugou looked like he was panicking too, unsure what to do but wanting to do something.

“Well it’s fucking happening now isn’t it !” You screeched, white hot pain blinding you, back and lower abdomen aching beyond belief.

Shoto turned to Bakugou, deciding to put his hatred aside for your sake.

“Look after her, I’ll go get someone.” Shoto commanded him, making Bakugou’s eye twitch, but otherwise moved closer to you to ease you into the couch while Shoto left.

Bakugou felt immensely guilty, feeling like his interaction with that bastard was what caused you to stress.

“I’m so sorry.” He apologized, something unusual for him, but you were clutching his hand so tightly that it turned white. He saw many people in pain before, sometimes he was the cause, but never had he seen you hurting like this and never had he wanted to.

“It’s fine, I can tell you never meant for this to happen.”

So selfless, even when you’re in pain.

“Well uh, you’re going to be a father huh?” You said, trying to distract yourself from the pain.

“And you a mother.” He replied.

You suddenly felt dampness leaking down, staring in horror as you saw something trickle down.

You turned to Bakugo, seeing him listening to you attentively.

“Bakugo, take me to the bed.” You urged him. He put his arms around you and lifted you up with ease, even in your current state.

Bakugou put you down on the bed, his lips curling down in displeasure at the scent of that bastard in every corner of the room.

His heart was suddenly overflowing with sadness, pumping it throughout his whole body. Is that what he made her feel ?

He noticed her stare on him, unused to seeing him so contemplative and...haunted.

“(Y/n)” he broke the silence, calm despite his previous anger.

“Katsuki.” You said. With no resentment or such.

“How did you meet him ?”

“I’ll be sure to tell you after the pup is out... if I make it.” You spoke sadly.

He growled, holding your hand with a glare.

“Ok course you will dumbass, you’re the strongest person I know.” He confessed, still glaring at you, perhaps to try and convince himself.

A painful contraction tore through your whole body, making you jerk in pain, screwing your eyes shut as you gritted your teeth.

“Really ? Even though you said I’m beneath you ?” You said, refusing to stall the conversation.

“I didn’t mean that, it was dumb if me to say, and ...dumb of me to think you’ll forgive me easily for it.” He glanced to the side.

The door shook off its hinges as Shoto walked in with someone else, the floorboard shaking as they pounded to the room.

In walked Sho with an old Omega, her face full of wisdom lines and her eyes taking in my form with worry.

She ushered the Alphas out, to their chagrin and reluctance. However, my voice rang out in objection.

“Sho can stay.”

The lady looked reluctant, but let it be.

Bakugou felt stung, leaving the room in anger. He had to sit outside while you suffered and went through extreme pain, but it was your wishes not to have him there...

He had to endure your screams of pain while all he wanted to do was comfort you. His Alpha was raging, wanting to rampage and destroy. All while someone else comforted you.

What felt like eternity later, Bakugo heard a cry, the screams stalling.

You looked at your little, perfect pup. A baby boy, with your (e/c) eyes and little tufts of blond, barely visible due to the bareness of his head. You cooed at your baby boy, your heart and eyes filling with pride and joy at the sight of the perfect creature. Your happiness was leaking out of your eyes, unable to keep it from overflowing.

“Look Sho, he’s perfect !” You exclaimed, turning to the awed Alpha next to you, showing him the little bundle in your arms.

Sho purred at him, looking at the baby’s glassy eyes and tiny face.

Bakugo walked into the room, looking at the little bundle of joy in your arms with wide, awed eyes. He was speechless for once.

“Can I ...?” He stammered out, and you nodded, extending your arms out and handing him the pup.

“It’s a baby boy, he’s perfect right ? I can tell he’s gonna be a handsome young man when he grows up !” You gushed, not discriminatory in sharing your happiness.

Bakugo nodded in agreement, looking at the baby that looks like a mixture of the both of you. His heart, thorned and rugged, filled with endless adoration as he gazed at his boy. His expression was serene, the weight in his arms light, yet feeling heavy somehow.

He leaned forward, pecking his cheek, finding it unbelievably soft, texture exclusive to newborns, untainted and pure.

You grimaced, feeling pain in your nether regions.

“Are you ok ?” Asked Sho worriedly.

You laughed a little at that. “If I said I’m fine, you wouldn’t believe me anyway.” You said.

“Thank God it’s finally over.” You added, Sho repeating the sentiment.

“It was worth it though.”

A few days passed, Bakugo refused to leave, with the excuse of wanting to stay with the newborn pup, but that wasn’t entirely true.

You were in the kitchen, making food with Shoto, you helped you reach things and cut potatoes with mediocrity. Reaching down at some point and scenting you, taking notice of the changed scent you now carried around. You took the food to the room, then brought your pup to nap in your nest while you sat next to them, slurping your noodles. It felt more comfortable like this, in your safe nest with your pup close to you. The door opened, and in walked Sho with his noodles plate.

“Can I join you and the pup for dinner ?” You nodded excitedly, finding his request cutely endearing. He found it hard to leave the both of you out of his sight. He sat in your nest next to you, and you two ate in comfortable silence. You finished your food, and your eyes got droopy. You sometimes got bouts of dizziness, probably due to the blood you lost, making you nap a lot. You yawned and laid down, ignoring the fact that sleeping after dinner is not healthy for now, and putting your hand over your pups tummy as you held him close while being careful not to crush or suffocate him with weight.

“Nap with us ?” You asked cutely, as if Shoto could deny you anyway. He nodded with a smile and stroked your head until you fell asleep.

Sho found himself unable to sleep, so he decided to do some grocery shopping before the shops closed. On his way way back, an unexpected voice called out to him.

“Shoto !”

Turning around, he saw a familiar snow white hair and grey eyes.

“Natsu ?”

Shoto couldn’t filter the shock clouding his features.

“What are you doing here ?” Sho questioned in bewilderment, unable to know what to make out of this.

“I’m here for you, obviously.” Natsuo said, walking towards Shoto.

“Listen, before you ask anything, hear me out.” Natsu demanded, his eyebrows set into a grim line as his lips thinned.

Sho nodded.

“We need you Shoto, a civil war is brewing, the fire kingdom in starting to cause trouble because they don’t want to be a part of the ice kingdom anymore, and Enji is mad. He’s willing to destroy everything mercilessly in order to keep control, but we know that’s not how things should be done. We need you shoto, you are the perfect for this, you can show them that we can coexist without unnecessary bloodshed.” Natsu urged.

Shoto was in disbelief, he knew that wars were indiscriminate, no one would be safe. Not even his little Omega and pup. And Shoto knows he’s not the only one that’s at risk of losing a loved one. Maybe it’s time Enji is overthrown. Maybe it’s time that Shoto fulfills his destiny.

While Shoto talked to his brother, you had just finished a heavy conversation of your own.

“I see... so that’s how you found me huh” you nodded, and he gruffly responded.

“So now tell me, how did you meet that half and half bastard ?”

“Well, I found Sho injured and helped nurse him back to health. And... I kind of fell for him along the way.” You replied with a blush coating you mr cheeks, as if you are a high schooler telling her friends about her crush.

Bakugo sighed. That sounds like you alright, always so selfless and willing go help.

“(Y/n) you should be more careful, you dumbass.” He scolded in typical Bakugo tongue.

“You’re lucky things ended up well, what if he was a murderer ? Or worst , a rapist ?!” It seems like the bitching is never ending.

After a while, he finished his lecture, but he wasn’t done speaking.

He looked to the side, clicking his tongue, before speaking.

“Well, are you not going to come back home ?”

There it is.

“She isn’t.” A new voice rang out making both you and Katsuki turn in surprise, Katsuki’s quickly turning to disdain.

“She can speak for herself, half n half.” He huffed with a glare.

Shoto moved next to you, wrapping an arm around you possessively.

Luckily, a cry cut the tension in the air, making toy move softly to go to the source.

Taking the baby out of his crib, you gently rocked him, softly lulling him back into slumber .

Shoto walked into the room, walked over to press a kiss on your forehead, then the pups. You internally cooed, Shoto was treating the pup like his own, and you couldn’t be happier.

He sometimes woke up and rocked him back to sleep when you were too tired to wake up faster then him. He smothered the two of you in affection.

But right now, he seemed troubled. You can tell from the minuscule changes in his expression, from the slight downward pull of his eyebrows, to the way his mouth seemed to want to pull downward, but he was schooling it.

“Sho, what’s on your mind ?” You asked tentatively.

He sighed, glancing somewhere before meeting your eyes with determination.

“(Y/n), would you like to be a queen ?”

[liamloveslarry]

Baker! Harry & Primary School Teacher! Louis

so, a couple of weeks ago i made a little post about how i’d love for people to send me prompts/writing ideas and the lovely @louistsbravery sent me one based off her moodboard she so kindly made, here!

my brain kind of ran away with me and so i hope you like this, i tried to stick to the theme as best i could, enjoy! :)

Harry eyes the man from behind the counter. 

He watches him as his eyes scan the board above from where he’s standing, sleepy blue orbs blinking tiredly behind the square glasses perched upon his nose. 

His heart thumps something fierce when he notices the tufts of brown hair sticking out slightly from behind his ear, a noticeable trait he assumes from lack of sleep and too many early mornings.

It’s 6 o’clock in the morning and the sun is barely edging over cobbled streets and tall buildings, its shimmering waves casting a pale glow over puddles on the pavement and bouncing off lampposts. 

‘Babs Bakery’ is nestled between a small row of shops along the Northern Quarter. Its quaint, rustic exterior leads itself into a small tea room and peaceful eating area. Potted plants line the windowsill outside while the smell of fresh baked scones and coffee beans pulse and weave through the air, an atmosphere Harry’s prone to taking naps in.

He’s been here for about a year now, taking over from his Nana when she’d gotten too old to carry on the business, but he hadn’t changed a thing. It might be slightly old fashioned but it reminds him of his grandparents and how he used to sit at the table in the corner by the window with his colouring book and jumbo crayons, while being served hot vimto and iced fingers.

A small cough nudges Harry from his stupor and he blinks, realising he’s been staring. The man is smiling slightly, the last traces of sleep pull at his lips as he lifts his hand to cover his mouth while he lets out a yawn.

“Morning.” He says, his Northern twang is raspy and gentle, a higher pitched lilt whispering through words.

Harry wipes his clammy hands on his apron and steps forward, fingertips drumming along the counters edge. He can see the man’s wearing a light blue button up underneath a soft, grey jumper. Pale pink tie burrowed in between. A shoulder bag is situated over his left arm and there are textbooks, papers and pens bursting through the zip.

“Hey. G’morning.” He replies, fingers aching to touch him. “Find anything you like?”

The man squints one more time at the blackboard, eyes moving over loopy words and today’s specials.

“I think,” he says, dragging out the ‘I’. Harry finds it that endearing he has to grip the countertop and remind himself to keep breathing. “I think I’m gonna go for a latte and a cheese and ham toastie, please. Is that alright?” 

Harry nods and reaches for a paper cup. “Is that to go or stay in?” He asks.

“To go, please. Need to make sure I get to work before the little monsters. If I time it right, the caffeine rush lasts all day.” The man responds, smirking a little. “I swear I love my job, but sometimes they can be a handful.”

Harry nods and spins on the spot, turning the face the coffee machine and placing the cup underneath the metal nozzle. There’s a spurt and a groan before hot milk starts to pour into the cup.

“Am I right in assuming you’re talking about children, not animals, right?”

The man laughs and Harry blinks up towards the ceiling, whispering a quiet ‘fuck’ as his knees buckle. 

“Yep! Early years. I work at the Primary School just down the road. The only animal I have is Eden here, and she’s still asleep the lucky buggar.”

“Eden?” Harry asks, as he places the cheese and meat on top of the bread baked only this morning, crumbing bits of pepper on top and drizzling balsamic vinegar over the sharp cheddar. 

He places it into the small oven and turns the timer on.

“Yeah, heh. Sorry. She’s my pet rabbit and the kids go crazy when I bring her in. I hope you don’t mind me bringing her in here? She’s in her carrier so she can’t escape.” Louis looks sheepish, and he rubs the back of his neck while he flicks his eyes up to meet Harry’s; but the look is quickly dissolved when Harry dashes around the counter and asks if he can see her.

Louis nods and steps aside, giving view to the medium sized carrier sat next to his feet.

Harry crouches and sees through the bars, a small golden rabbit, tufts of white fur peeking through the strands. Her nose twitches in sleep and her soft whiskers brush Harry’s fingertips lightly where he’s resting against the metal bars. 

“Oh my, she’s so cute.” He whispers, not wanting to wake the sleeping animal. 

He peers up at the man from where he’s situated on the floor and realises he’s eye level with the fly of his work pants. He flushes and bends his knees, standing up. 

This only makes things worse as he’s now directly facing him, no counter in between their bodies. If Harry were to inch his fingers out, he’d feel just how soft his jumper is. He flexes his knuckles and reminds himself not to think about if his skin is as soft as his voice.

He coughs into his fist and steps back.

“Sorry – uh. I just love animals. And I don’t mind them in the shop,” he nods his head to where a small tank rests next to the till. “I have one of my own to keep me company, too.”

A plump goldfish swims happily from rock to rock, bobbing his tiny mouth as he scoops up the remaining pieces of fish food Harry had sprinkled in earlier.

Louis spins to face the tiny morsel, but only after his eyes drop down to where Harry’s biting his lip, a small bridge of pink scattered over his nose and cheeks.

“Nice.” He says, smiling at Harry once more. “What’s its name?” 

Harry walks back around the counter and scoops the cup from underneath the machine and presses the button on the timer, stopping the chirps that are signalling the food is ready. 

He places the items down in front of the man and bends to rest his elbows on the counter, reaching one finger out to follow the fish through the glass.

“Phillip.” He huffs, the sound sculpting into an embarrassed laugh. 

Louis looks at him with his eyebrows raised, a small grin quirking his lips.

Harry groans quietly and rolls his eyes.

“Please don’t ask – my niece named him and I couldn’t say no.”

Louis laughs and reaches a hand into his pants pocket, pulling out his wallet and sliding his card out of the slot. 

“Mate, you don’t need to explain anything to me.” He says. “I deal with 15 of them on a daily basis, why d’ya think I bought a bloody bunny?” 

He smirks as he places the card into the reader and enters his pin, and Harry stares at the way the sun is peeking its way in through the windows, causing the man’s hair to shine, highlighting his cheekbones and lightly freckled skin.

He stands there for another couple of seconds before the reader beeps and he pulls his card out. 

“Cool, well - I think that’s me.” The man says, slipping his wallet back into his pocket and gathering the items in his hands. “I guess I’ll see you around, uh?” he looks a little expectantly at Harry and smiles, a tiny quirk of his top lip.

“Harry.”

“Louis,” he replies. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around then, Harry.” 

Harry manages a wave before the man is out the door, smiling at him through the window one last time before he disappears down the street.

-

It isn’t until Harry’s shutting up shop and wiping down the counters that he spots a small folded piece of paper, wedged in underneath the till.

He frowns and drops the cloth, peeling open the sharp edges until scrawled black writing looks back at him, reading:

“Nice Buns!” 

Harry stares at the letters and the scribbly, rushed image of two iced buns smiling and feels a flush work its way from the top of his head to the bottom of his toes.

The thing is, is that Harry doesn’t know who could’ve done this. 

The bakery’s been busy non-stop all day and plenty of customers have been in and out over the last eight or so hours, and so he’s confused as to who left him the note.

He pockets the piece of paper and picks up his cloth, continuing to clean.

This time with a small smile etched onto his face.

-

The notes keep appearing after that. 

Once a day, in the same spot as before. 

Usually, Harry only notices them at the end of his shift, treating them as little surprises after his busy schedule.

Some days there are short sentences, wishing him a good day, and other days there are lyrics from songs that make him smile, every now and then there’s a cheeky one liner that makes him blush.

There’s a small glass jar that sits beside the toaster where he keeps them, day in, day out, the glass gets fuller. Sometimes Harry, after a bad day, will twist the top off and read through them one by one, curling up on the chair by the window and instantly feeling the stress of the day melt from his shoulders, sated happiness washing over him.

He hasn’t yet managed to find the person on the other end of the notes, always too busy to stop and look. And anyway, what would he say if he found out? Yes? Maybe? ‘No Jonathan, if this is you, I’m not into threesomes so stop asking me?’

He kind of likes there being an air of mysteriousness to them. 

But he guesses, it wouldn’t be so bad if it turned out to be a certain someone, now would it?

-

It’s after an unusually busy day that has Harry rushing around on his feet and trying to serve a long line of customers that seems never ending, flour dusted through his hair and balancing both dishing out food and cleaning up after people, that come 5 o’clock, he’s exhausted and practically dead on his feet.

He slumps against the counter and rests his head down between his shoulder blades, having a minute to himself and heaving a big sigh, when he hears the telltale sign of footsteps approaching him, shuffling he thinks, a little slowly.

“Hey.”

He whips his head up and sees Louis. 

His hair is a mess and there’s a line of purple felt tip staining his cheek. His tie is skewed and the top button of his shirt is undone, Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as he swallows, lightly dusted with midnight scruff. 

“Sorry, I know you’re uh-technically closing soon,” he says, “I just wanted to pop in really quick for one of those chocolate chip muffins? My sister’s coming up for a few days and I need something sweet to get me through, long day ‘n all. Which I’m sure you can relate to.”

Harry huffs a laugh and nods his head, turning to face the cabinet full of pastries and frowns when he realises there aren’t any in there. He closes his eyes and sighs.

“Ah, sorry. It looks like we’re out, I have a fresh batch of blueberry in the back if that’s okay?”

Louis nods and smiles and Harry wanders into the back, letting the smell of bread and cookies sprinkle over him as he pulls out one of the trays and picks a particularly plump muffin, bouncy slightly in texture.

He finds Louis in the same spot as he was before, only this time he’s rubbing his eye with his fist, looking even more tired than when he first padded in. 

He waves the muffin at Louis who grins in response, arm falling back to his side and walking closer to the counter.

“Let me just wrap this up for you.” Harry says, and places the muffin in a small decorative box, closing the lid and taping it with a sticker.

When Louis’ walking towards the door a couple of minutes later, he looks over his shoulder and says,

“You might wanna check something over there,” nodding his head to a small counter display full of flapjacks, where a piece of paper looks to be slotted in between, sticking up as if waiting to be plucked, “looks like you missed something.”

And then with one last smile that’s bordering on slightly nervous, he’s gone.

-

Ten seconds later when Harry unpicks the paper, the words ‘you bake me crazy, wanna grab a drink sometime?’ look back at him.

He thinks back to the other day and presses his lips together, suppressing a smile and biting his lip.

He knows just what to say.

-

And then, three years later when he stares down at the ring and card with two pieces of bread on the front and reads, ‘I loaf you very much, shall we grow mould together?’

And he looks into teary blue eyes.

He knows just what to say then too.

[orangepeelers]

it’s you

my boys go to the beach and are a little very slow on picking up hints

***

Remus awoke to a text from Sirius.

As he saw his name on the screen, excitement bloomed in his stomach and made his toes curl. He felt elated for a brief moment, before forcing himself to punch the feeling down into the recesses of his mind. He couldn’t feel that way about Sirius. He wouldn’t feel that way about Sirius. He’s just your friend, he reminded himself. 

His heart didn’t really get the memo.

Remus rubbed the sleep from his eyes and glanced over at Peter’s sleeping form. The four of them were staying at the Potters’ beach house, spending the hottest days of the summer eating ice cream on the boardwalk and swimming in the ocean. He hated that despite the fact that Sirius was in the room next door with James, a text from him could still have such an effect. 

He unlocked his phone to read the text, anxiety and excitement mingling in his chest. Hey Moons. I woke up a little early today. Proud of me?

Remus grinned and rolled his eyes. Sure I am Pads. Of the four of them, Remus was the only early riser, a fact which he never let them forget. He found Sirius’ gesture endearing, if a little strange. Waking up early was so out of character for him. 

His legs jiggled nervously as he awaited a response. He couldn’t help but wonder whether his waking up early was for a specific reason. Running through his head in an attempt to tamp down his overactive imagination was a constant stream of shutupshutupshutupshutupshut-

Wanna go for a run on the beach?

Remus’ fingers moved of their own accord. Sure. Breakfast at 3 Broomsticks after?

Of course!! See u in like 2 seconds. Love u Moons 

At the last three words, Remus’ heart did a little skip rope routine. He knew it was just Sirius being Sirius, but the words still found the nooks and crannies of his brain and filled him with warmth. They stoked the fire of false hope he had burning in his mind, like vodka on their weekly beach bonfires.

He got dressed quickly, overthinking between his choice of old t shirts before settling on one from some event his parents had organized. Taking care not to wake Peter, he crept to the door and stepped into the hall, easing it shut. Sirius was already in the living room, long hair tied up into a ponytail. Black strands framed his face, bouncing against his cheekbones as he turned to look at Remus.

He flashed the grin that Remus had pictured so many times while trying to fall asleep. “Moons! Ready for our run?”

Remus smiled back. “Shocked that you have this much energy this early.”

Sirius shrugged, still smiling. “I was just in a mood today. C’mon!”

The two walked out the door into the oppressive humidity of the east coast. The orderly streets full of pastel-colored beach houses were quiet in the early morning, the people inside still sleeping off the previous day of swimming and sunbathing. Sirius immediately stripped his shirt off, tucking it into his waistband.

“Fuck, it’s hot.”

Remus pretended to shake his head in disapproval, but his eyes were tracing the sloping lines of the other boy’s biceps, wondering how it would feel to wrap his hands around them. He swallowed the thought before also stripping his shirt. Sirius grinned cockily.

“And I thought you were judging me.”

Remus mock-bowed. “Why, never!” 

They started running, following the unpopulated streets to the beach. It wasn’t too far, and when they got there the sandy plains were mostly empty except for a few people walking. A bubble of laughter and conversation surrounded them, disrupting the early morning silence. They ran along the beach, listening to the waves lap against the shore as they sun came up. By the time they got to the Three Broomsticks, they were soaked in sweat and panting hard.

Sirius pushed his hair off of his forehead and mopped the sweat with his t shirt. “Hell, I’m never waking up early again.”

Remus laughed. “Hey, what about Belgian waffles?”

Sirius considered the waffles for a moment. “Hmm... You do make a very valid point. Maybe I’ll do it once more. As a treat for you, of course.”

They laughed before slipping their shirts on and going inside. The Three Broomsticks was Remus’ favorite restaurant on the boardwalk. The inside was quaint, with blue-checked tablecloths and pictures of patrons and vintage posters lining the walls. Natural light streamed in through the big windows facing the beach as a few other early customers ate and chatted. The brunch rush hadn’t started yet, so they were able to get a table close to the big windows.

Remus studied the boy sitting across from him. His eyes were gray and studious as he read the menu, with a hint of mischievous humor, like he might order blue eggs and burst into laughter before the waiter could say anything. Dark hair fell across his face before he pushed it back, still reading through the list of pancake varieties. 

Sirius glanced up before Remus could look away. “Why are you looking at me like that? Is there something in my teeth?”

Remus just smiled, hoping the flush of embarrassment would be written off as a result of their run. “Just wondering why you’re reading this more intently than anything else I’ve ever seen you look at.”

“Hey, I take my breakfast very seriously, Moons.” He pointed a finger at him, pretending to be stern. “And you should too. It’s an important part of the growing boy’s regimen.”

“Okay, okay.” Remus put his hands up in surrender. “But I know you’re just going to order what you always do.”

“I also like routine, Moons.” Sirius said, shaking his finger before returning to the menu.

A waiter walked over and introduced himself before taking their orders. 

Sirius pretended to think. “I think I’ll have... Chocolate chip Belgian waffles with strawberries and whipped cream.”

Remus shook his head at him. “I’ll have the same.” See, told you so, he mouthed. Sirius just rolled his eyes and smiled. 

The waiter took their menus and walked away. Sirius turned his full attention to Remus. “So, Rem. Lily tells me you have a little summer romance up your sleeve.”

Remus’ heart beat double-time. He’d confessed his crush to Lily, because he just had to tell somebody and he trusted her to keep her mouth shut. Technically, he supposed, she hadn’t told Sirius, but his legs bounced nervously like his deepest secret had been discovered.

Remus laughed awkwardly. “Well, I guess you could say that.”

Sirius cast an analytical look before sinking back into his chair. For a moment, Remus swore disappointment flickered across his face. Impossible, he reminded himself. Silence hung in the air thickly.

“Well, not quite a romance. More like useless pining.” He amended. He met Sirius’ gray eyes, and for once, they were unreadable as he studied him across the table. 

“Well, I think anyone would be lucky to have you.” Sirius said sincerely. “You should tell them. Who knows? They might feel the same, and you can have an actual summer romance.”

Remus smiled, a little sadly. “Yeah. Maybe.” He studied the tablecloth intently, a heavy layer of quiet laced with tension settling over them. They each pretended to be very interested in the cloth napkins.

Sirius cleared his throat, a little awkwardly, trying to break the tension. Thankfully, their waiter arrived with two plates stacked with thick waffles and glasses of fresh, bright orange juice. The arrival of food dispersed some of the binding silence and conversation flowed again as they dug into the hot, crispy-yet-soft waffles. 

They finished up their meal and paid the bill, setting out to walk back to the house. It was about nine, which was still relatively early in beach time. A few people were laying out towels and umbrellas on the beach. The sun was properly up, beating its hot rays down on the morning and dispersing the dew. Sea breeze carried the scent of salt as it ruffled their hair and scattered their laughter. 

As they got onto the more quiet streets, their conversation turned, once again, to talk of summer romances.

Why does he keep bringing this up? Remus thought. The last thing he needed was a reminder that the person he wanted most in the world was unattainable. The constant thought hung about his head like vines in a jungle, and he didn’t want to see those words personified as Sirius rambled on.

“I was really hoping this summer would finally be the one where I wasn’t afraid to speak my mind.” Sirius’ clear voice led Remus back to their conversation. 

A lump formed in Remus’ throat as he nodded. “Me too, honestly.��

They walked side-by-side, spilling out a little onto the lawns of the houses. Remus saw Sirius glance over, almost nervously, as he continued. “Yeah, I’ve sort of had this major crush on someone for a while. But I’ve never been able to tell them.”

Remus laughed, a little bitterly. How ironic that they were each in the same situation, yet Remus knew that Sirius could get anyone he wanted. He probably hadn’t told this mystery person because he wanted to see how long he could drag it out. Not that Sirius was cruel, but he couldn’t see any situation in which he simply couldn’t tell somebody he liked them. It just didn’t make sense. 

“Well, I think you should tell them.”

“Yeah?”

Remus swallowed thickly. What matters is that he’s happy, he reminded himself. All the useless pining in the world didn’t give him a right to impede Sirius’ happiness, or decide who he dated. “Well, if you’ve liked them for a while, then either they’ve figured it out or they’re too stupid to realize. Either way it would be a push in the right direction. And, you’re Sirius fucking Black.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Remus pushed him lightly and smiled. “You know what it means, you egoistic dolt. Like you told me, anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Sirius smiled faintly, as if adding Remus’ words to a mental list. They continued walking until they were about a block from the Potters’. By now, Peter and James were probably being woken up by Mrs. Potter opening curtains and humming. Remus smiled to himself at the thought. He looked over at Sirius, who was deep in thought, brow furrowed. He wished he could see what the other boy was thinking.

All of a sudden, Sirius stopped. He grabbed Remus by the hand and pulled him so they were facing each other. Their chests were bare inches from each other, which Remus was hyper aware of as he looked down into his face. He was a few inches taller than Sirius, and being so close made that feel like a few feet. He could feel his soft breath as they looked into each other’s faces.

Sirius’ gaze was intense as he took a deep breath. He was still holding onto Remus’ hand and he gave it a subconscious squeeze, as if trying to gather confidence. They stood like that for several seconds until either of them remembered to talk.

“What-”

“Rem, I-”

They laughed a little breathlessly. Remus seriously thought that his heart would explode. All he wanted was to close the distance between them. But he restrained himself and settled for saying, “You first.”

Sirius hesitated a moment, before resolve hardened in his eyes. “It’s you.”

“What?”

“You’re the summer romance person. You’re the person I’ve liked for a while.”

Remus blinked. The words floated around his head before he was able to string them together. All he could do was stare back at Sirius, unable to believe what he was hearing. He felt like a fish gasping on a dry dock, unable to suck in air to form words. “I- um, I-”

Sirius stared back, expression alert as Remus floundered for words. Finally, he was able to peel the letters from his throat and force the sentence out. “It’s you too.”

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, as the realization of their words settled around them like snow. Slowly, Sirius placed his hands on Remus shoulders, the around his neck, fingers tracing the muscles there gently. His hands shook Remus out of his stupor and he pulled Sirius closer, hands on his waist.

Then Sirius kissed him.

The kiss was everything a kiss should be. Deep in his stomach, Remus felt the same excitement from earlier in the morning return a hundredfold. Sirius’ mouth was soft and sweet from the waffles. They were so close, bodies pressed together despite the summer heat. He felt like a body of stars, constellations blooming on his skin wherever Sirius touched him. Adrenaline raced through his body as Sirius pulled back to look at him.

He smiled, softer than Remus had seen him before, a smile just for him. “I’d say this is my summer.”

Remus smiled back, hands intertwining behind his waist. “I’d say so too.”