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#you should see the state of my shelf its shameful
freaky-flawless · 2 years
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Randomly thinking about how frustrating it is when sellers online will, for whatever reason, sell dolls without any arms, and claim it's for "parts"
But then I started thinking about how useful that can actually be if you have a really old doll with the elastic joints. You can just buy an armless doll, switch the heads, and attach the old doll's arms, and voila! You have a doll that can stand it's own weight.
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silvergolddraco28 · 1 year
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Rotten Connection
“That should be enough training for today Kid.” a golden-furred humanoid monkey stated, the creature dressed in a simple pair of loose-fitting pants and a long-sleeve shirt while addressing a young human teen who was panting on the ground.
“I think I'm dying.” the teen groaned.
“You're not dying, you're just exhausted since it's been a while since you’ve put that much effort into your fights.” the golden simian countered helping the teen up.
“Thanks, Monkey King. Are you going back to Flower Fruit Mountain or staying here tonight?” the teen asked, looking around at the small temple the simian called his Shame Temple, one that the teen had actually never seen inside of past the training yard.
“I think I’ll be here for another hour or two then head back to the Mountain to check on my monkeys. Better get going before your late Mk.” the simian reminded the teen who checked his phone and made a face of fright.
“Gah! Pigsy is going to kill me, bye Monkey King see you later!” the teen shouted running out. The simian simply had a soft smile on his face before it faded along with the sound of the delivery cart the teen drove.
The simian placed a pawed hand on the gates letting a flash of gold seal them before heading inside the small temple shedding the shirt he wore. He reached a hand up to his left shoulder rubbing at the junction of his shoulder and neck. “Didn’t think it would be this soon after the bone demon’s defeat.” the monkey sighed his tail flicking anxiously behind him as he headed deeper into the temple. Faint scars traced up his body becoming more prominent the deeper he went into the temple, a golden glint around his forehead as he came to the innermost chamber of the temple and sealed the door sitting down on a lone cushion in front of a small altar with an obsidian black knife buried deep in its stone surface.
The simian closed his eyes already knowing this was going to be painful as he removed his hand from his shoulder wincing at the pulsing and rotten-looking section of his shoulder and neck leaking a thick purple ooze. With a practiced motion, the simian picked up the incredibly sharp blade from the stone racing it near his lips and blowing fire onto the blade heating it until it was glowing red before he slowly began to carve out the rotten flesh from his own shoulder not even screaming at the smell of burning fur and flesh. By the time the rot was carved out he had gone as far as to remove his entire left shoulder before heating the knife once more and slicing open his chest to remove his heart waiting for a second one to grow before placing the one he had cut out near the rotting limb. He simply watched the thick purple ooze consume both the arm and the heart on the altar before cleaning the stone with his fire. He took a breath and shuttered looking close to breaking down. His ear flicked to the left before he finally spoke.
“Are you going to ask or just continue watching me, Mac?” the golden monkey asked, his tone gave the impression he was just far too tired to fight at the moment.
The monkey waited for an answer but received none causing him a bit of confusion. ‘Am I hallucinating from blood loss again? Damn, if Mihou saw me now he’d probably be laughing his ass off while teasing me for being sentimental.’ the monkey thought standing up and swaying slightly before shaking it off, allowing more wounds and scars that covered his body to be seen now that he was completely alone even from his own hallucination driven mind.
He wondered the temple until he entered the room no bigger than a large closet stuffed with blankets and pillows in the form of a best, a shelf to the left held bottles of various pills and potions while the shelf to the right had two origami monkeys one was pure white and the other was black as night both being surrounded by heavy looking wax candles. The black paper monkey was tall and imposing with an air of mischief while the white paper monkey looked to be bashful with an essence of pure innocence. Golden ruby eyes sadly looked at the origami before focusing on the pills and potions grabbing an empty bottle and putting several different pills in it before pouring different amounts of potion into the bottle grimacing before downing the concoction down in one gulp, coughing once it was down his throat.
The monkey placed the now empty bottle on the shelf curling up in the center of the best that faintly smelled of plums and sage. ‘Might have to raid Mihou’s room again for another pillow.’ The sage sleepily thought as the potion worked its magic and he was soon ‘dead’ to the world in a deep dreamless sleep, his shoulder slowly rotting again as he slept just as fast as it was healing.
I think I just made a very disturbing realization. If Macaque had been dead for a while and his body wasn't immortal like Wukongs how is it Macaque isn't walking around like a zombie?
If anyone wants to help come visit me on discord and i’ll send ya a link!
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seiyasabi · 3 years
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Bulls in the Bronx
(So…. long story short, I’m now a hucow simp. Thanks a lot @/biskywrites and @/dark-side-blog2 for making me this way (ノД`) lol, all jokes aside, I wanna suck some tiddy milk from a buff man ;)) Anyways, this is Yandere Hucow(Hubull?) Bokuto x Fem Reader ;0 This fic allows me to flex my farming knowledge lol, bc my grandparents owned ponies and dogs. 
TW: !Noncon!, !dubcon!, creampie!, he hits you twice!, somnophilia!, predator vs prey?, manipulation!, cumflation!, breeding kink!, size kink!, ur a farmhand!, lactation!, tiddie sucking!, Asshole farmer Ushi, etc.. 
Please don’t proceed if any of the above are triggering! Also, sorry if Bokuto is too OOC lol) 
“Bokuto got into the lackweed again,” You can’t suppress the laugh that explodes from your mouth. The idea of the biggest hucow (hubull??) on the ranch freaking out (again), because he’s now dripping milk is hilarious. 
“Where on Earth does he keep finding those damn weeds?” The other farmhand laughs as well, stooping down to fill two buckets with water. 
“I think those grass seeds were cross contaminated, the other hucows also started to lactate a lot more than usual. But, it’s kinda funny that our best breeder is dripping like a heifer,” Chuckling in acknowledgement, you can’t help but feel a pang of pity. Poor Bo, he’s probably really self conscious at the moment. 
“Maybe I should go check on him-” Your coworker almost drops the bucket she’s filling, looking up at you as if you just grew three heads. 
“Why would you do that? Did you forget that he’s going in rut soon?” Frowning, you glance down at the floor in mild shame. 
“Well, yes, but he isn’t supposed to start until next week! Plus, I’m not ovulating right now, so I won’t trigger him,” The other girl thinks for a moment, before nodding slowly. 
“I suppose it’d be fine. If anything, he may calm down if his favourite handler is there,” Nodding, you grab two buckets from the shelf beside you. Squatting down next to your coworker, you place a bucket underneath a faucet, turning the circular handle to the left. A gush of cool water rushes out, quickly filling the plastic pail. Quickly switching it out for the empty one, you wait a few more moments, before turning off the rushing water. Grabbing the handles of the buckets, you lift them whilst standing to your feet, using your legs instead of your back. 
Nodding towards the other girl, you bid her farewell. Turning on your heel, you tromp towards the bull pens. The large red barn is quite a far distance from the shed you were once in, causing you to break out in a light sweat. It doesn’t help that it’s mid spring, causing the farm to be quite warm. 
Setting the buckets down on the dirt ground, you wipe your brow with the back of your hand. Huffing out a deep breath, you quickly move the concrete slab keeping the barn closed away from the sliding door, before shoving it open. The sound of the cowbell on the red and white door handle on the inside clinks noisily, queuing a symphony of deep ‘moos.’ 
Picking up the buckets with bent knees, you hurry inside, relishing the feeling of the barn’s fans on your sweaty skin, “Hey guys, is the barn cool enough for you?” Grumbles and shifting of large bodies are all you get in response, causing you to laugh, “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Gunning it for a certain grey haired bull’s stall, a bright smile makes its way onto your face, “Hey, Koutarou, how’re you feeling?” 
He’s currently laying on his bed of compact hay, tears sliding down his handsome face. His cute ears are droopy, his bell earring not jingling with life like normal. His tears drip between his septum piercing, and drop onto his well defined abdomen, “Not good, (Your Name).” 
With a small gasp, you set down the pails rather harshly, some of the cool liquid sloshing onto the wooden floor. Hurrying towards him, you sit on the prickly ‘mattress,’ “What’s wrong? I heard that you’re lac-” A small sob leaves his lips at your words, causing you to grab his hand reassuringly, “Are the other guys making fun of you? I can go yell at them if you’d like!” 
The buff bull-man sits up, one arm covering his chest self-consciously, “No! They’re not being mean,” He grips your hand almost to the point that it’s painful, “I-it’s just… my chest hurts, real bad.”
Nodding in understanding, you motion towards his covered pecs, “Let me see, Bubs. I’ll see what I can do.”
His face flushes bright red, “But it’s embarrassing!” You shush him sweetly, releasing his hand to coax his arm away from his chest. 
“It’s okay, I won’t make fun of you! I just wanna help you,” After a moment of hesitance, he obeys, revealing his swollen, red nipples. 
The area around his nipples is raised as well, showing just how much his milk is backed up. 
Eyes softening even more, you delicately rub both pecs, “You’re alright, Bubs. This happens to the cows sometimes when we don’t milk them as much as we need to. If you’d like, I can go find a pump!”
“No! I don’t wanna pump!” You jump slightly, and move away from him, only for his hands to trap your own to his chest. More tears gather in his eyes, as he becomes distraught, “I don’t want my milk to go to waste!” 
Taken aback, you nod, although you don’t understand his reasoning, “Kou, why’re you acting like this? You know we don’t get rid of milk, we sell your guys’ milk at the market.” 
He shakes his head, “I don’t want you to sell it. I want you to drink it,” The look of shock on your face is mistaken as disgust, causing him to cry even more, “Do you think I’m weird? Why do you look like that?” Seeing the bull act so sensitive is adorable, but you feel as though you have to comfort him.
“No, no, it’s okay! I’m not weirded out, I’m just surprised. I’ll go get a bucket-”
“No bucket!” Sighing at his weird behaviour, you cock an eyebrow at him. 
“Then how am I supposed to collect it?” A big grin crosses his teary face. 
“Drink from me! I promise I’ll be good!” Shifting in discomfort, an anxious sweat starts to form on your brow. 
“Ahaha, that’s funny, Kou. You know I can’t do that,” More tears well up in his eyes, squeezing your heart painfully, “Don’t look at me like that, Bubs. I don’t think your owner would like me getting so close-” 
“I don’t mind,” Ushijima’s voice booms throughout the barn, scaring the living daylights out of you. Whipping your head around, you make eye contact with the large male, an uncharacteristic smirk on his face, “As long as my star bull is happy, I’m happy.”
Kou releases your hands, only to grab your face, forcing you to look at him, “See! He doesn’t care! Please, (Nickname), please help me! My udders hurt so bad!” 
With Ushijima’s eyes on you, and Koutarou’s sad and pain filled face, you finally relent, “Okay, okay! Don’t freak out, Bubs, I’ll help. You just gotta let me go.” 
He releases you quickly, before shoving your head towards his chest. The jingling of his earring is heard, telling you that his ears are no longer pressed down on the top of his head. You hear heavy footsteps walk away from his stall, probably gathering the bulls to let them graze outside. 
You try to push away from where your head is being smushed, but the bull gives you no leeway, “Why aren’t you drinking?” The male practically whines, as you whack his shoulder lightly. 
“I’m being smothered in between your tiddies, Kou,” You chuckle in slight discomfort, but he finally allows you up. Moving towards his most swollen nipple (the left one), you pinch it between your thumb and forefinger, causing a small stream of milk to come streaming out. 
A small moan leaves the large man’s lips, as he shoves you once again face first into his chest, “Don’t tease, (Nickname), I feel like I’m dying!” A flash of empathy goes through your heart. 
Removing your hand from his nipple, you take a deep breath, and latch yourself onto him.Your chapstick covered lips are soft against his sensitive skin, causing him to keen. When you suckle, a tidal wave of milk bursts into your mouth. Luckily, it doesn’t taste very bad; his milk tastes like vanilla, causing you start to slurp it up like a babe. 
Your one hand kneads his other pec to soothe him, “Fu-fuck, you’re making me feel so good!” You don’t bother trying to say anything, instead, you just suck harder. Your unoccupied hand squeezes his tit that you’re currently nursing on, causing him to pump out more of his yummy milk. 
After a few long moments, you release his nipple. A drop of milk trickles down your chin, which the large bull laughs at. A thick finger wipes off the excess, pushing itself into your mouth. A tender look is in the grey haired man’s eyes, as he kisses your forehead. 
“Thank you, pretty girl. Can you do the other one, please?” Now that he’s no longer in a painfilled state, he’s back to his normal, boyish self. Nodding, you lick your lips, before latching on to his other nipple. He barely chokes back a moan, his hand gripping the back of your head. 
You suck as hard as you can without hurting him, pretending his nipple was a straw to a thick ass milkshake. Between your massaging and sucking, his teat no longer feels as painful as it once did. 
Pulling away, you give him a wry smile, “There, all better. Well, I should pour your water into your trough now,” Standing up with wobbly legs, you move towards the filled buckets. Picking them up one by one, you pour it in with unsteady hands. Why are you so shaky right now? “Well, I should get going now. I hope you feel better later,” You try to walk out of his stall, only to be yanked back into Bokuto’s lap. Both empty pails fall to the ground unceremoniously, clattering loudly through the empty barn. 
“Don’t leave me, Lovely, I need you,” His warm skin against yours feels nice, and you suddenly feel sleepy. 
“Kou, I’m tired. I think-I think I’m gonna take a nap,” He runs his fingers (through your hair/over your scalp), tantalising you into drifting off. 
“That’s alright, (Nickname), I’ll watch after you,” With a muffled ‘Mhm,’ you fall into a deep slumber. 
-
When you awoke, you woke to your body shaking. Brow furrowing, you blearily open your eyes, only to see a tuft of grey hair in between your bent, spread legs. 
His long tongue is currently fucking in and out of your dripping cunt, his thumb rubbing against your clit. 
“Ku-Kou? Wha-“ He looks up immediately, a look of shock on his strong features. 
“I-It’s Not what it looks like! I-I just wanted a taste!” You groggily push at his head, catching his ears slightly, causing a small jingling to sound throughout the empty barn. 
“You didn’t ask, why, why are you-“ He grabs your hand, kissing each knuckle with a slobbering kiss. 
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Let me make you feel good! You taste so good,” You yank your hand back, trying to kick off the hand that currently wrapped around your right thigh. 
“Get off of me! Bokuto, you-you’re doing this without my consent! I thought we were friends!” You shout, pushing at his face harshly. He grabs one of your hands, trying to kiss it, only for your other to clap him upside the face harshly, “Don’t! You’ve already done enough.” 
Kicking him away (even though he’s much larger and stronger than you, meaning he just moved away), you stand to your feet, pulling back up your halfway down jeans and panties. 
Snatching up the buckets previously discarded, you don’t even shoot the crying bull a glance, just turning on your heel, and stomping away. 
Tears of your own drip down your face, humiliation and betrayal weighing down your aching heart. 
Forcefully sliding open the barn doors, you run from it, catching the eye of a certain green haired farmer. 
It seems Bokuto fucked up. 
But that’s okay, when he goes into rut, there’ll be nothing keeping him from breeding you full of his massive calves. 
-
You avoided the bull barn like the plague for the next week. The hucows are very pleasant company. They treat you as if you’re their young, making you feel well loved. 
That is, until Hachi asked you why you’ve been avoiding Bokuto. She’d told you that he hasn’t acted the same, in fact, he’s acted depressed and withdrawn. 
Since then, you’ve stuck with aquatic life. The fish, swans, and ducks don’t give you that much trouble. 
But, when you come back from the pond and fish pools, the farm is ensued with panic. Apparently, Bokuto’s finally gone into rut. 
And, unfortunately for you, he’s on the prowl for you. 
So, when your coworker runs up to you, begging for you to calm him, you turn on your heel, and start walking back towards the pond. They can figure this out themselves, you’re not going to sacrifice yourself to someone who tried to take advantage of you. 
Sadly, that doesn’t work out. 
You’re immediately stopped by Ushijima, his broad form blocking you from advancing forward, “Where do you think you’re going?” His arms are crossed, an angry scowl on his usually handsome features. 
“I forgot something at the pond,” You lie, smoothly, “I’m going to go grab it real quick-” 
“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” His strong voice booms, “What you’re going to do, is march yourself into the barn, and make my prized bull happy.” 
Your own scowl forms on your pretty face, “I will do nothing of the sort. Interspecies sex is illegal! You can fire me for all I care, I’m not going in there!” You try to move around his large form, only to be manhandled into a chokehold.
His left arm is wrapped around your neck, your back to his chest, and your face being held in a large hand, “Interspecies sex is legal when a human and hybrid are mates,” He hisses through gritted teeth, and you struggle in his hold, “If you don’t go in there, I’ll drag you in.” 
“Fuck you,” You spit, “I’ll fucking castrate you!” You kick backwards, landing a solid hit on the large man’s groin. With a loud yell, you’re let go, allowing you to run towards the farm’s parking area. Pulling your truck’s keys from your pocket, you haul ass, not bothering to look behind you. 
The barns and sheds fly past you, as you run through the open field leading to the car park. You suddenly hear loud footsteps follow after you, and you assume that it’s Ushijima, that is, until you hear them, “(Nickname)! (Nickname), where are you going? Why are you running away from me?” Bokuto’s voice rings out at top volume, hurting your ears. His voice a lot more gravely than before, and without looking at him, you know that he most likely looks crazed. 
You don’t respond, trying to pick up the pace. You click the unlock button one time, only unlocking the driver’s side door. Because you had a head start, you cleared the field in less than three seconds, allowing you to hop into your truck, and lock the doors. Shoving the key into the ignition, all whilst buckling your seatbelt, you press on the brake, and turn it, only to hear the spluttering of your failing ignition, “Come on! Don’t do this-” Bokuto slams into the driver’s side door at top speed, rocking your large vehicle harshly. His hands and face are pressed against the window, his expression looking like that of a kicked puppy. You then notice the fact that the buff male is completely naked, his impossibly large cock bobbing against his toned stomach. 
“Why are you trying to leave? I need you so badly, pretty-pretty. Why don’t you open the door, and we can figure this out? I promise I’ll make you feel good, after all, us bulls pride ourselves in taking care of our mates,” You cringe in disgust, not bothering to answer him. Instead, you continue to fiddle with your ignition, muttering expletives under your breath. His large hands start to beat on your driver-side window, trying to gain your attention, “(Nickname), come out already! Ushi already cut your fuel line, so you’re not going anywhere! Come on, I just wanna make you feel good-”
It was your turn to cut him off, “Shut up! We aren’t friends anymore, Bokuto, much less lovers! Just leave me the fuck alone! I’m sure many of the cows would love to help you through your rut, why can’t you just ask them?” Tears of frustration dot your eyelashes, as you pop open your glove box and search for your phone. Catching sight of the black cased (phone type), you snatch it from its confines with a loud ‘Aha,’ “Don’t make me call the Farmer’s Union, Bokuto. I’ll report you and Ushijima for-”
“You won’t! You love me too much!” His frantic words raise in volume, as he hit the glass even harder than before, “You wouldn’t put me down! Come on, (Nickname), why won’t you call me ‘Bubs’ anymore? I love you!” You swipe open your phone, and go to the contacts. Pulling up the Farmer’s Union phone number, you go to press ‘call,’ only for the shattering of glass to halt you. 
You scream in both fear and shock, throwing up your hands to protect your face. This, in turn, causes you to drop your phone. In this time, Bokuto is able to grab you by your arms, and drag you towards the broken window. Your seatbelt keeps you in place, causing him to pull you even harder, and making you scream in pain. 
You use your arm to whack his against the broken glass on your truck’s window area. He releases you in a moment of pain, allowing you to unbuckle yourself, and throw yourself to the passenger side. Once there, you unlock the door, and bolt towards the road. 
“(Your Name), come back here! Stop being so difficult!” You pay him no mind, a few meters away from the busy road. Noticing a car speeding towards the area you’re running to, you push yourself even harder, trying to throw yourself into the road. Unfortunately, you’re grabbed by two buff arms that encircle your waist. They use all of their strength to smash you into their chest from behind, knocking the air from your lungs, “Are you crazy? You could’ve been hurt!” You thrash and try to bite at him, causing Bokuto to backhand you across the face, “Now look what you made me do! If you’d been good, I wouldn’t have had to do that!”
To be completely honest, you’re in shock. Bokuto has never raised a hand at you, and that slap wasn’t a warning tap. No, that was him using a good majority of his strength, causing your cheek to throb painfully. 
You continue to thrash and curse after freezing for a moment, drawing the eyes of concerned coworkers, “Let go of me! What the fuck is wrong with you? Put me down!” You try to kick him in the junk, only to kick him on the inside of his thigh. In retaliation, he backhands you again, this time on the other cheek. Gasps and whispers are heard from those around you, drawing the large hucow’s eyes. 
“There’s nothing to see here, guys! Just my mate making a scene,” He shakes you a bit to shut you up, causing you to become disoriented. The farmhands and other hybrids look like they’re about to step in, only for Ushijima himself to show up. 
“What Bokuto said is correct,” His harsh gaze is on you, his hand gripping his dick, “She’s just making a scene. Let them through.”
They reluctantly go back to their business, as Koutarou guns it to the empty bull barn. Ushijima only watches as you’re dragged to the large building, as tears drip down your face in fear, and his fist at his side clenches in fury.
Stomping into the barn, Bokuto makes quick work of getting to his stall. Once inside, he tosses you on the hay mattress, and straddles your waist. With pawing hands, he rips your t-shirt and jeans off of you, leaving you in your bra and underwear, along with your boots and socks. Yanking off your boots, be tossed them out of his ‘room,’ as you try to throw punches at his muscular chest. He grunts, but doesn’t stop. 
With beefy fingers, he yanks off your bra, ripping it in two. Your tits jiggle at his harsh movements, making him lick his lips in enjoyment. He then rips off your cotton panties, exposing your cunny to his hungry eyes. 
“You’re beautiful, pretty-pretty. I can’t wait to see you stuffed with my calves,” You shake your head no rapidly, pushing his hands away from where they rest on your hips. 
“No! Stop it, Bokuto! I thought we were friends!” He tightens his grip on your pelvis, forcing your legs open. 
“That’s Not my name, (Nickname), you know that. Now, you know that I’m way more than just your friend-I’m your mate, and you know that I’ll provide for you and our calves,” With grubby fingers, he rubs at your clit, trying to draw a good reaction from you.
You squirm in response, trying to wriggle out of his one handed grip. You shove at his chest, but he remains unmoved, choosing to press down harder than before, “Stop it! Let me go!” 
He inserts his middle finger into your moist cunny, forcing it in and out. You try to kick him in the head only for him to catch your leg with the hand that previously held your hip, “If you wanted me to eat you out that bad, you should’ve just said so, pretty girl,” Before you can refuse, he throws your legs over his shoulders, and dives in. 
His long tongue fucks in and out of your hole, one of his thumbs rubbing your clit. A loud whine escapes your throat before you can stop it, making you feel a wave of disgust for yourself. Bokuto shouldn’t be making you feel good, he’s assaulting you, after all. 
But, when his tongue brushed against your g-spot, you can’t help but convulse in pleasure. Thighs quaking, you try to stop yourself from cumming. 
“St-stop! I’m, I’m gonna-“ He stops before you can cum, instead, pushing your hips down to where his cock lays against his abs. Forcing the bulbous head against your tiny hole, he pushes harshly, trying to fuck into you like an animal, “No! No! You’re too big! You’re going to tear my-“ With one powerful thrust, he forces his way inside, and you can’t help but scream. 
Tears drip down your face at the feeling, your pussy feeling like it’s been ripped open. Bokuto grabs your head, and forces it against his chest, practically making you take one of his pink nipples into your mouth. You’re immediately met with the taste of his vanilla milk, drinking it up as the hucow starts to buck into you at a lightning fast pace. 
Your teeth bite down on his nipple, but instead of being angry, he just moans in lust, “Yes! Yes, pretty girl, you’re taking me so well!” 
His hand that isn’t cradling your head goes to your tummy, feeling his huge length moving underneath your skin. He presses down a bit, causing another wanton moan to leave to both of you. With this thought in mind, he picks up the pace, practically fucking you into unconsciousness. 
Eyes rolling back, your ruined cunny gushed pathetically, coating you and the bull with your juices, “(Nickname), you’re so pretty when you cum,” He continues his breakneck pace, getting close to orgasm himself, “I’m gonna fill you up so good, that you’ll be dripping with my fun for days! Your little womb will be bloated with my fertile cum!” 
You try to speak, but you can’t, just continuing to suck his yummy milk from his teat. Walls fluttering with another orgasm, you feel yourself clamping down on his enormous cock. 
With one last mighty thrust, he seats himself fully inside of you, cumming directly against your unprotected cervix. A muffled scream erupts from your chest, as you feel your womb expand with copious amounts of beeile cum. Releasing his nipple, you throw your head back, a loud cry echoes throughout the barn, as you squirt once more around his cock. 
Now completely filled to the brim, you pass out from the trauma. Entirely exhausted, Koutarou grins down at your bloated form. He rubs your tummy like a Buddha statue, kissing it tenderly. 
“You’ll be a good Mommy, I’m sure of it,” he then trails his hand up your abdomen, groping your right tit, “You’ll look so pretty all milky and filled with my calves.” 
The sound of a throat clearing gains Bokuto’s attention, as he practically throws his naked body over yours. A loud ‘moo’ of warning escapes his chest, even when he notices that the person is just Ushijima. 
“I see that she mates with you well,” His eyes trail over your sleeping face, not straying downwards, “I hope this means that you’ll enter more shows.” 
Bo smiles, “Yes. Now I need to show off, so my mate thinks I’m an eligible male.” 
Nodding, Ushijima turns on his heal, making his way to leave the barn, “I hope your children take after you in strength. (Your Name) is a lot prettier than you are, so maybe they’ll be pleasing to the eye as well.” 
Snorting, the grey haired man’s ears twitch, jingling throughout the room, “You bet she is. She’s perfect.” 
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secondhand-trash · 3 years
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If I Only Knew Your Name
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A/N: so this was an idea I got while mindlessly picking songs to listen to on Spotify’s Indie rock playlist and came across this one song that just made me want to write something about it hehe accidentally put this aside for a whole month but I’m so glad that it’s here now lmao I had a lot of fun writing this
Pairing: Miya Atsumu x reader
Description: After a drunken night of passion, Atsumu had nothing he could find you with, not even your name. So he took the matter into his own hands and tried to search for you using the power of the internet.
Warning: drunken one night stand, suggestive descriptions, Atsumu is an embarrassment and I sure hope you cringe while you read it as much as I did when I was writing it
Word count: 9453
The song:
Young Love (feat. Laura Marling)//Mystery Jets, Laura Merling
-
One night of love
Nothing more nothing less
One night of love
Had left my heart in a mess
-
You woke up with a sharp pain spiking down your back, in a room you were sure you had never been to, on a bed that wasn’t yours.
Your head was heavy and every cell in your body screaming that you just wanted to fall asleep again when you stirred awake. You would have, had it not been the fact that you were not in your own room slowly started to settle in. There was a brief moment of blankness in your mind as you took in your surroundings. The room was still dim, the sun barely shining through the windows that were half covered by the shades. The domestic messiness crossed out the possibility that you were in a hotel room or some odd space behind the club you clearly remembered being at last night. 
You did not move as your eyes glanced around the space. Trophies and picture frames were lining up on the shelf at the corner, all of names and faces you couldn’t match up with any of the ones that you remembered. The linen covers you were sitting under was sturdy on your skin, a dark red on top of brown sheets that you would have never bought for your mattress. The scent of the fabric was foreign to you, making your morning state of mind more and more alarmed at the amount of information you were trying to take in. You had to admit that it was very soft on the skin, not the slightest bit uncomfortable as it rubbed against your bare arm when the duvet fell off of your body as you sat up.
You felt a moment of frantic terror at the registration of your own bareness, with your legs feeling terribly cramped, waking up on a bed that you did not remember getting into.
Everything clicked when you stiffly turned to your side, and found someone laying next to you.
The broad back facing your side had you clutching the sheets up to cover your torso that now felt chilly with the lack of layers. The man, whose name you did not think you know and what you had done with him last night you could not remember but was certainly able to guess, was still soundly in his sleep. Now that you were painstakingly unable to ignore his presence, you picked up on the soft snores that lingered in the air, making your legs that were rubbing against each other under what you could only assume to be his spreads tense up as the picture of what happened to get you right where you were slowly got clear. 
You would prefer not to think about it in detail, albeit the fact that it getting vivid in your mind sent a trail of heat from your core right onto your face and burning out the fuse in your head.
There was a slither of shame and guilt as you found yourself staring hazily at the man, his sculpted back spasming with each breath. Your hand gripping at the sheets in front of your chest only served to pull it further down his torso, revealing the dip at his waist and his arms that curled tighter against his body with a shiver. Blonde hair sprawled out messily on the pillow, and you felt chills creeping up your spine at the recoil of your fingers fisting those locks and brushing against the fuzzy patch of his undercut as he hovered above you.
Panting, grunting, moaning.
Your skin burnt up at the lingering feeling of a firm grip on your legs, the warm trail of his lips down your neck, and the unmistakable dullness between your thighs.
The heat settled into the pit of your stomach as a weight, twisting your guts until it resembled what felt like a bitter mix of shame and guilt.
Fuck, you slept with an absolute stranger last night.
You bite back a groan, slamming your hands against your face before letting them run down in a weak attempt to clear your head.
This was why you never go to clubs anymore.
The jolt of your body as you sat up straight pushed the sheets off of you and you winced at the soft whimper from the person next to you at the sudden movement. Your naked state was simply uncomfortable, not feeling like you were in your own skin at all as ironic as this was. You couldn’t help but hug your arms around your frame as you frantically looked around to see where your clothes and belongings were, letting out a relieved sigh when you saw the clothes you wore last night littering across the floor in all its messy glory. 
Your clothes were all wrinkled up from the careless placement, a clear display of the passion and impulse when they were being taken off. Your hands were the same kind of frantic as you rushed to put everything back on, not caring about tugging them in properly or the fact that you did not even look into a mirror at all to see if you were at least presentable. 
You did not hear the groan from the man that tossed over to his side on the bed as you slipped out of the bedroom, careful in softening your steps as you let the door clicked and darting your eyes around to see where the rest of your things were.
If you remembered correctly from the weak reconstruction of what happened last night, then your clutch should be somewhere near the door.
The giggle that slipped past your lips as he swung the door shut turned into a laugh when he latched onto you immediately. You could taste the hint of vodka lingering on his lips, bundling up your senses together with the warm breaths against your neck when he trailed down. It was like floating on a cloud, the way you latched yourself on this handsome man and he seemed to be unable to get enough of you. You barely heard the thump of what you were holding in your hand landing on the floor as your limbs went weak, swinging your arms around his broad shoulders when your mouth fell agape as he sucked down on the soft spot right on your neck.
It was right where you left it last night, the one and only clutch that you felt was suitable for you to bring to a club. There was a hint of hesitation as you rushed to pick it up, holding it in your hand when you thought of the person who you had left on the bed by himself.
What do people do after a one night stand? Talk? Have breakfast together? Or in your case, ask them for their name because you did not remember one thing that happened before you stepped into these doors?
Dear god, no.
So you did the only logical thing you could think of, and rushed out of the door without even looking back.
It wasn’t until you were far away from the apartment building you ran out of, the weight of your body shifting from leg to leg as you waited for the train to slowly drive into the station that something did not feel right to you. Your fingers fidgeted in reflex as you shoved yourself past the small gap between each person stuffed into the cart, a bad habit you had formed as a kid when you were nervous.
Your heart fell into the pit of your stomach when the lack of metal brushing against the tip of your finger finally clicked in your head.
You cussed under your breath, knowing exactly where the thin, gold band must be.
-
Miya Atsumu woke up with a pounding headache, in his own apartment that he forgot how he got back to, on his bed that somehow felt emptier than usual.
At first, all he could focus on was the clear hungover that he was suffering from. His tongue felt dry and he scrunched his face up at the bitterness as he tried to gulp. The half-drawn curtains were not doing it in shielding the sun that already came out, making him squeeze his eyes tight and blinked a few times before finally adjusting to the brightness. Stretching out on the bed, Atsumu whined at the soreness pulling at his muscles, feeling his joints pop as he arched his back and sprawled over to the other side of the bed.
He froze in place, arms still spread over his head and legs bundling up the sheets, before jolting up in one rapid movement only to wince at the horrible spinning in his head at the rush of blood up to his already heavy head.
Yet, dizziness and all that, Atsumu was sure that the feeling of someone being here with him last night definitely wasn’t just a drunkness induced illusion.
He groaned at the untimely pang of pain that pulsed at his temple, ruffling his hands through the locks of his hair that was tangled up from him tossing around the bed. The slight pull at his scalp at his impatient detangling method made him hiss, but it also served to get his wires just a little more sorted out than before. 
First things first, he was very naked and combining that with the certainty that he must have had someone over, it wasn’t very hard for him to connect the dots. He ran his palm over the ruffled sheets, smoothing out the wrinkles and searched if there was still any hint of warmth left on the fabric. He cursed under his breath when nothing else but coolness met his skin, scolding himself for acting like a fool over some one night stand that did not even wait until he woke up to leave.
There was a lump at the back of his throat as he stayed there, holding onto the hovering position he took on the bed without a single thought.
He snapped out of it when he realised that he was in his own space, just staying still and letting time passed without doing anything. Atsumu had a strong feeling that if he stayed in bed any longer then he would just be miserable for the rest of the day and he really couldn’t afford it if he couldn’t manage to get over himself soon enough. 
For all that it was, there was no bigger asset to his career than this very body that he felt like trash in right now, and god knows how much trouble he would get if people learnt that he let his performance slip because he couldn’t bounce back after a drunken hookup.
His steps were floaty as he climbed off his bed, stumbling into the bathroom and harshly gripping at the faucet. The water streamed out as a strong current and he splashed it against his face in a sadistic force. The coldness was stinging his skin, with no help from the way he rubbed his hands down his face and back up his chin.
He looked terrible, Atsumu thought to himself when he stared at the reflection in front of him. His eyelids were pulled taut with his hand, cheeks squished under his palm before he pulled away meanly. Bloodshot eyes made him wince and his face was so dropsy it looked like he had cried himself to sleep.
A loud slap echoed in the empty bathroom when he clasped his face a bit too hard in a desperate attempt to clear his head. He whined, rubbing the area that went numb and then heated up. There was a slight flush around the area he had slapped down, but he was feeling more in touch with reality afterwards.
Alright, so what happened last night?
It would be a lie if Miya Atsumu said he had never had one night stands. He would argue that he never go out with the intention for one, but sometimes one thing leads to another and it just happens. Some were good, some not really, some he hadn’t really think of until now when he was desperately thinking of what it was that led him to now. 
He hadn’t wakened up with a hungover this bad in a long while. Being in a profession that demands that much of your physiques meant that there was not much room for the more self-destructive type of letting loose. It was strange, Atsumu pinched the center of his brows as one hand on the kitchen counter held his body still, he didn’t quite remember the deeds of what was happened once the door to his room was closed last night.
Wow, he looked up with eyes widened and huffed at no one, that was such a douchebag thing to say.
He, however, remembered the person that stumbled through the door with him in shocking vividness to even his surprise.
He would have to pretend that the lack of follow up did not send a blow to his ego, reassuring himself that there was no way it was because he behaved terribly that the person had to run off before he even woke up. He was bitter about the fact that they had left without leaving even a note, something he had no idea he cared about at all until this very moment when the silence of his home became just short of irritating in his pounding head. 
Could have at least said ‘I had fun last night but I gotta go’.
Atsumu rubbed his temple, slowly rotating his arms backwards to get rid of that dull cramp.
Or maybe leave their number somewhere too.
He paused in his track, standing awkwardly in the middle of his tiny living room.
Did he want their number?
He shook his head violently to rid of the meaningless thought, an act he would immediately regret when he remembered that he was having a hungover as the dizziness made him stumble on his feet. 
A crisp clang after he took a fumbled step to steady himself quieted all of the voices in his head. That was not a sound that aligned with what his brain expected from his worn-out room slippers kicking against the wooden floor. Atsumu held his head as the rang of what sounded like something metallic registered itself in his mind, blinking at the empty space right in front of his feet.
His eyes darted around the floor, searching for whatever it was he must have stepped on to make that sound. Atsumu was ready to settle for the possibility that he was starting to hear things when a quick flash of light from the corner caught his attention. He walked towards where it was, and slowly crouched down.
It was a ring, a very tiny one. It looked rather ridiculous being held between his calloused fingers, the thin golden band arching off the afternoon light that had shined on it. A very simple design with no gems or carvings along the surface, something very much so the opposite to his taste. He knew it was not his, from the size to the tone to the lack of anything all over its rim.
And then he remembered the first time he saw the ring, on someone else’s finger, just last night.
-
Atsumu would not classify himself as a party animal, despite the common speculation shared by people who knew him but not well enough. He could deal with house parties just fine, but clubbing had never been much of his thing ever since he woke up outside the back of a night club once with the worst ring in his ear he had ever experienced. 
If it wasn’t part of his job, he would much rather be anywhere else than this overly opulent club that his team’s sponsor had booked up for their event. But business was business, and if he wanted to keep having his own room in away games then this was the price he had to pay.
Was it a nice club? He couldn’t say, but it sure was an expensive one if he was to make a guess based on the decor. So expensive that it was a bit tacky, if he dares to say. It was like the owner wanted to remind you that this was high-end and decadent. Imagine what you would see in a basic mansion on a real estate agent’s website, then dim it up and add many hi-fis, what you would result with was likely close if not identical to the space he was in. It was loud and hard to escape from, his ear pounding together with the baseline every time it blasted through He would never quite understand rich people, he thought to himself as he took a sip of his drink and scrunched his eyebrows together. He forced down the urge to poke his tongue out at the obvious taste of syrup, trying to pass it off with a cough into his fist as he plopped down on the barstool. 
“How’s your drink?”
The smooth voice reaching into his ear was mismatched to the booming club he was in. Atsumu turned his stool to the side with a push with the heel of his uncomfortable leather shoes and was met with an entertained gaze. You sat with both feet on the footrest of the stool, a posture that seemed rather childish for the night club bar you sat in front of. With your bare forearms lazily placed at the edge of the bar table, your finger tapped casually against the rim of your cocktail glass, the pink liquid inside looking like it was glowing under the neon lights. He could not map out your features too clearly but your head tilted as you looked at him through narrowed eyes, a glimmer behind your lashes from the many lights that hung above your head. 
Miya Atsumu was an adult now and in his adult mind, he knew that the proper answer he should give to a stranger asking about the sugary mixture he just poured down his throat was that it tasted decent, expensive even, like the club he was sitting in now.
“It’s kinda shit,” he felt a strange swell in his chest when you let out an unfiltered snort at his answer, leaning back with his arms folded in front of his chest as he licked his lips, “yours?”
You lifted up the glass and necked down the rest of the coloured water, smacking your lips as the sweetness spread in your mouth. “Like the type of stuff they mark up and sell to high schoolers who couldn’t buy real alcohol.”
The bartender at the side threw you two a sharp look and you two sat up straighter, before bursting into a fit of laughter. He supposed you had to be tipsy at the very least and probably so was he, what sober person giggled like a child over trash talking overpriced liquor at a bar? “Why are you here at this trashy place?” you asked, now resting your chin on your palm with your elbow propping you up.
You did not know him, Atsumu was almost delighted by the fact that you likely just struck a conversation with him because he was another bored person trying to escape to the sidelines of dancing bodies just like you with no other intentions. “Got an invite and couldn’t say no because of work reasons,” he wasn’t exactly lying, he just didn’t say that he was supposed to be one of the main guests of this function.
“Ooo...” you let out a soft whistle, tilting your upper body forward him, “are you a big shot?”
He smirked.
Yes. “Not entirely.”
“Hm...” you sat back, your smile pursed as you tapped your finger on the table, “not denying it, huh?”
The vibration of your hum sent shivers to his spine and he blamed it on the very spiked drink he just gulped down. Atsumu ran his hand through his hair, a move he discovered in his teenage years that could let him smoothly fixed his hair while also flexing his arm. “I try to stay humble,” he replied, earning him a playful eye roll from you.
The melting ice clinked in the glass when he held it up against his lips, still looking at you from the corner of his eyes as he tilted it and let the pungent liquid run down his throat. 
You nodded, returning to the laid back posture you kept before he sat down next to you at the dim corner of the bar table when you realised he wasn’t going to say more. “Fair enough,” you pretended to sound disappointed, holding your hand out in front of you to swiftly turn your attention away.
“You?”
“Got dragged here by a friend who works for the organiser,” you huffed, “don’t even know anyone here besides from them.”
Atsumu felt the warm buzz of the liquor spreading from his stomach to the rest of his body, settling onto his face as a tipsy fever. He did not look away from you and he was sure it was exactly what you wanted, mindlessly toying with your hand as you faced away from him. Your shoulders pulled back as you slid the thin ring off your index finger smoothly with your thumb, twisting it with the tips of your fingers before letting it fell down another one, all while pushing your hips back against the stool as you crossed your legs.
“Nice ring,” he tipped his chin slightly.
“Oh, this one,” you held your hand out to him, spreading your fingers apart to show him. You pulled back just slightly when he reached out, grinning teasingly at him when he quirked his brow up.
“my grandma gave it to me before she passed away,” you sighed, caressing the band that sat on your finger dreamily, “shoved it into my hand on her death bed and made me swore to never lose it, said it was given to her by her first love when she was a girl.”
“Oh,” Atsumu let out a soft gasp, “oh wow, I-”
He rolled his eyes when you broke out into laughter, the longing expression all gone from your face as you let out a hiccup through your giggling. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”
He clicked his tongue, letting out a huff, “Lying isn’t good.”
“Neither is talking to a stranger at a club but I’m still here,” you wet your lips as you flashed a childish smirk, showing him your hand again. He was certain that he was drunk now, because there was no other way he could excuse the pounding in his chest when you didn’t pull away this time as he reached out to hold your hand for a better look.
“I got this as a pack of 5 for 800 yen online,” you said proudly, “quite the deal, if you ask me.”
He hummed in approval, letting out a shaky breath when you slowly pulled your hand out of his grip, the tip of your finger ticking the center of his palm before you lifted it away. It sent electricity trickling down his spine, the feeling of your touch lingering on his skin even as you were steps away from him again, once again staring at him with a smile tugging on your face like you were waiting for his move.
Was it a challenge or was it an invite? Either way, he was ready to take on whatever you were offering.
“You still owe me some sort of compensation for toying with my poor heart like that,” he mused, mimicking the way you leaned towards him from before.
You sniggered, “And what do you want from a poor stranger like me?”
The music playing through the speakers stopped temporarily and for a moment, the projected light illuminated his figure briefly before moving to another spot. You had not taken a good look at him until now, knowing full well that the attractiveness of anyone under the pink, dim glow of the bar was not to be trusted.
But he was really, really good-looking, even when you could actually see his face properly. 
The next song started playing and the party people on the dance floor cheered. The loudness that returned made your head ache and you scrunched your nose in annoyance as the dj yelled into the mic. Atsumu threw his head back as the music returned, tapping his finger against his jaw.
“How about,” he said, knowing that you and he were likely to be on the same page, “you make it up to me by letting me buy you a drink somewhere where the drinks aren’t shit?”
You chuckled at his unfiltered suggestion, your laughter slurring into a hum as you grabbed your clutch by the side of the bar. “I can make up to you,” you asked as you stood up, tilting your head to your side, “by letting you pay for me?” 
He nodded, smoothing out his shirt as he got up from his stool too. 
You shrugged, pressing your palm to your face to let the coldness of your hand calm down the heat on your face as you grinned.
“Take me somewhere nice then, big shot.”
Even through his tipsy haze, Atsumu was sure that this was the most irrational thing he had done in a while but as you took his arm while he pulled you through the crowd and out in the open after being stuck in the same space with many drunk and sweaty bodies afterwards, he was quite certain that he couldn’t care less whether this was stupid or not.
If he had any regrets about it, he would just blame it on the alcohol.
-
Now that he was staring at a fake gold ring you got as a pack of 5 for not even a thousand yen, Atsumu could only tear at his own hair in regret when he realised that he didn’t ask for your name or contact at any point during which you went from the first bar to one he actually liked, then to many other because there was no way he would get this drunk after just two drinks, and finally stumbled through the door of his own house, before you disappeared as if you had never been there at all.
It was all the alcohol’s fault, fuck alcohol.
It was not his first time taking a near-stranger home and even though he wouldn’t want to say it out loud to people, he also couldn’t guarantee that this was the last time either. He should just forget about it and move on with his day, maybe make some tea, maybe get some soup to cure this heaviness in his head so he wouldn’t make it too obvious that he hadn’t been taking care of himself the way he really should. After all, there was really nothing he could do about it since he didn’t know anything about you other than what you looked like and that you wore cheap jewelry. But it left a strange tightness in his chest when he toyed with the gold ring in his hand, knowing full well that drunk or not he did enjoy his time with you even before it really got to the fun fun part.
He really should have just asked for your name like a normal person instead of trying to look cool and mysterious the moment you talked to him at the bar.
Miya Atsumu let out a sigh no one was there to hear as he slowly accepted the fact that not only was he hungover, he was also hung up, and put the only evidence he had of you ever being there with him into the key tray by his door.
He would figure out what to do with it later but for now, he was starving. 
So Atsumu set off for the only one place he could think of that couldn’t kick him out no matter how annoying of a customer he was.
“Say, Samu...” 
Miya Osamu sighed, putting the plate he was drying at the side and let the damped towel fell from his hand onto the side of the sink. His twin had finished his food a long while ago yet he was refusing to leave, planting his face down at his counter like a pile of mush as he took up the precious space of Onigiri Miya’s bar seat. Osamu liked to think that he was a supportive brother , by all means. He fed Atsumu, listened to his childish whines and didn’t kick him out when he started getting so loud that the other patrons sent him a worried glance. Maybe he should have pretended that he was about to head out for errands when he saw his twin marching in, slumping down on the stool like he owned the place (Miya Atsumu claimed that he had unlimited access by relation, Miya Osamu denied it with his life and told all his employees to just kick his twin out if he said that bullshit to them).
He was so nice, Osamu thought to himself, he was far too nice.
“What is it?” he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest when he heard Atsumu’s muffled voice.
“Do you think it’s possible to fall in love with someone without knowing their name?”
Oh god, what was he up to again?
“Depends,” Osamu snorted, picking his towel again when he realised that it was nothing too serious that he should stop his work to listen to, “if it happens to someone else, then sure, maybe, everything is possible. But if you're telling me that you think you’re in love with someone you don’t know,” he paused, before breaking into a wide grin, “I think I might laugh.”
“Hey!” Atsumu yelled, his fist slamming on the counter as he snapped his head up. The bang caught the attention of several other customers at the shop and Osamu sent them an apologetic bow before glaring at Atsumu who was rubbing his aching hand for slapping it against the wooden surface. “I’m being serious,” he muttered.
“Alright then,” Osamu nodded absent-mindedly, "so what are you going to do about it?”
Atsumu’s raised hand froze in the air before he slowly, robotically put it down, down, down until it was back on the counter together with the rest of his upper body.
Osamu’s nodding got firmer now, letting out yet another snigger, “Thought so.”
Atsumu let out a groan, deflating onto the counter more and more with each whine. He looked sad and pathetic, even more so than he usually was and even Osamu who was born immune to whatever teary rent he put on was starting to get concerned.
“Was the sex really that good?”
“it is not about the sex,” Atsumu mumbled, leaning his chin on top of his folded arms as he sighed, “I just... think we had a connection.”
Osamu laughed, the ugly kind, and earned himself a sharp glare. “A connection, huh?” he giggled, “you’re down bad.”
“It’s not funny...”
Hiccuping as he tried to calm himself down, Osamu placed a hand onto the kitchen counter to steady himself as his body vibrated. 
“I still think you’re overreacting,” Osamu took in a deep breath, catching up after finally regaining his posture, “besides, you’re technically a public figure, right? If you can’t find them, why don’t you just try and get them to find you instead?”
Atsumu’s hiss about how he wasn’t overreacting stuck at the back of his throat when paused and thought of what Osamu had suggested.
“Huh,” he sat up a little straighter, eyes rolling inside of their sockets as he pondered, “that’s actually not a bad idea.”
"Of course it’s not,” Osamu huffed, “I’m the smart twin.”
“What did you just-”
Osamu ignored Atsumu’s glare, turning around to resume his work now that he seemed to have fulfilled his responsibility as a brilliant, amazing brother. He gave it a month, no, two weeks max before his brother forgot all about this person and moved on as if Atsumu had never shown up in front of his door with puffy eyes and a love-sick expression. 
Oh, he just couldn’t wait to hear all the excuses and denial when he brought it up again the next time they get into a petty argument.
-
It was a terrible idea.
The Inarizaki volleyball alumni group chat exploded when the first post of what would be many to come was published for the world to see. Suna Rintarou, always so quick with capturing his old teammates embarrassing moments, kicked Atsumu out before he sent out links, screenshots, and pinged every single member of the group who did not read his message immediately. Miya Osamu refused to speak up about it, keep denying that he knew anything about it.
“I do not know this person,” his fingers hurt from how fast he was typing, not even bothering to correct the typos in his message before hitting send to clear his name, “I have no idea what has gotten into him but I’m not responsible for it.”
He was, in fact, telling the truth. Osamu was just as shocked and wide-eyed as everyone else was when he came across his twin’s post on Instagram as he scrolled through his feed mindlessly after work. Let us just say that all his sleepiness was gone when he saw his twin’s pretentious selfie of him standing in front of a window (shirtless), his hand holding onto the frame as he looked out into the grey sky. The posture was optimal for him to flex his back, letting the light seeping out around his frame do the trick of accentuating his muscles. Atsumu’s face was not entirely in the frame but Osamu did not need to see to know that he had his eyebrows furrowed, his gaze lowered into a look that was supposed to convey the message of “wow look at me, I’m so sad, and I’m also hot”.
Miya Osamu felt a metallic ting in his mouth when he imagined Atsumu’s face, so heart-wrenchingly similar to his own, making that look.
He got spammed by the group chat as soon as he clicked out of the app in horror, refusing to look at that monstrosity any longer. Ginjima was losing his mind, Akagi sent out strings of just him keyboard smashing, Oomimi replied with a very concerned sticker and proceed to not show up again, Kita who was not actually on Instagram at all said it wasn’t very nice of them to make fun of their friend like that but also didn’t quit the group chat himself. Ojiro was the last one to reply, seeming to be rather irritated after Suna kept tagging him and tagging him until he finally went online. Unlike the others who were still comprehending what had possibly got into their friend, he sent out a screenshot but this time with the caption of the post highlighted.
“Is he ok? Did he got dumped or something?”
Osamu did not look at the caption before it was brought to his attention, already feeling the impact sufficiently enough from the visual itself. He felt chills running through his arms and spreading to his entire body when he glanced at the string of words, his face scrunching up in disgust at how any sane person could type it out with their own hands.
“My world had not seen light since the day you left it without saying goodbye.”
He silently switched his status to “do not disturb” when the group chat exploded once again, knowing exactly what this was and that he was fully responsible for the pain he was experiencing right now.
Osamu tried to convince Atsumu that if anyone saw these, the only thing it would persuade them to do was run away instead of reaching out to him but it was to no avail. He was convinced that this was romantic and if he kept it up, it would create enough buzz that would possibly lead the stranger he was hoping to stumble across one of these painfully awful posts and recognise him. The posts kept coming and every day, Osamu felt more and more of an impulse to just block him for good so he wouldn’t have to open his feed each day with the fear of seeing things he did not want to see. 
One day, on a beautiful weekend morning, when he finally had time to sit down and have a nice breakfast without rushing, Osamu opened his feed to see a glorious picture of his twin chest down (shirtless) on the bed, with the camera panning up to close up on his face from below. The blanket covered Atsumu’s torso loosely, showing just enough of his waist but not too much that he would get flagged. He had the lower half of his face behind his forearm, staring into the camera with such a sultry stare it made Osamu’s skin crawl.
“If I can start over, I’ll give up all I have just for another night with you.”
Osamu nearly didn’t manage to hold himself back from spitting out the water in his mouth.
The word slowly spread among the community. Suna, ever the enthusiastic teammate he was, shared his recently discovered source of joy with fellow EJP Raijin member Komori Motoya, who in turn spammed the latter’s cousin who had no choice but to acknowledge his teammate’s questionable online presence. Sakusa didn’t think he could ever have such a reaction to something that was not physically there to bother him and proceed to show it to the nearest person he could grab in the locker room, but not without reporting the post for containing unsettling images. 
If he had to suffer, then he must make sure that there was someone else suffering with him too. Sakusa had no intention of being the only person who had to see Miya’s pretentious bathroom selfie where he stared into the camera all while running his fingers through dampened hair along with a caption Sakusa did not even want to read in his head. The “someone”, captain Meian Shugo who was really not paid enough for this, sighed as he wondered if this was worth reporting to management as a potential pr crisis. Tomas, somewhat curious by the look on his captain’s face, asked if this was the current social media trend in Japan to which all the players present fought to clear that misconception from his head in order to defend their nation’s honour. 
Bokuto looked it up after hearing about the whispers and chats between breaks. “Why, this isn’t that bad!” he said cheerfully, “There are people complimenting him in the comments too! Look!” 
The rest of the team spent a good chunk of time convincing him that he should think more cautiously about it when he suggested that perhaps he should try to take on this dynamic posing style for his social media accounts too.
It sure did stir up quite the storm among his fellow athletes and the many fans that were wondering what exactly, or who exactly, it was that caused this sudden shift in his behaviour online. The few people who knew the reason for Atsumu’s melancholy, namely Osamu and some others who could not escape from a venting Atsumu, were almost certain that you would have to at least see his face somehow. If he was still hearing nothing, then it was probably about time he gives up and accepts that you just didn’t want anything to do with him.
One thing that these men who put their entire lives into volleyball failed to take into account, however, was that not every person in the world was particularly interested in the sport that lived and breathed. For people who only heard about the sport if the Olympics were coming up, whatever the players were up to in their private lives was probably not something they would care too much about.
Sadly, for Miya Atsumu, the exact person he was looking for was one of those people.
“The fans are starting to go crazy, no one has any idea what is going on with him,” you pulled your phone slightly further away from your poor ears as your friend let out an exasperated yell from the other end of the call. 
They lost you when they started talking about this athlete they had a celeb crush on and how they had been acting very strange in their posts lately, realising that this would become one of their ramblings about people with names you barely remember. They bombed your phone in the middle of the day when they found out that their company would be sponsoring a sports team they were obsessed with and did not stop until you threatened to block them until they had calmed down. You still hadn’t forgiven them completely for disappearing out of nowhere after begging you to attend a company function with them all with the reasoning that if they came across one of the players that would also be invited, you could be there to stop them from embarrassing themselves. That was not entirely useful, given that they were whisked away by their colleagues not even an hour into the event and leaving you all on your own.
If it wasn’t for them, then none of the events following that night would have ever happened.
But the past was past and as they called you again to talk about how they were heartbroken because their fav might be seeing someone, you did not stop them, obviously, since you were a great friend.
A sigh called your attention back and you silently closed your dash of animal videos to focus on what they were saying. “Are you even listening?”
“Uhm...” you hummed, “emo thirst traps, you were saying?”
“We tried to dig down all the accounts he was following but no one was posting anything that might match up to his posts,” they let out a whine.
“So,” you said, “are you still going to see him this weekend even if you are heartbroken or?”
They gasped before you suggested that if they didn’t want to go anymore, then you would do something else rather than sitting through a game you were not interested in. “Of course we’re still going!” they emphasised on the ‘we’, “who knows when I’ll get front row tickets again once the sponsorship ends and they aren’t giving the company tickets anymore!”
They paused. “You’re still going with me,” it sounded more like a threat and a statement than a question, and they asked again when you didn’t reply, “you’re going with me, aren’t you?”
You sighed. They were usually pretty laid back, except when it has something to do with volleyball. What was it with volleyball? It was like... football but with hands, tennis without a rack, basketball but with no basket. Ball sports, they were all the same in your eyes. But despite your lack of interest, the truth was that you wouldn’t have anything else to do if you didn’t go with them anyways and you did promise you would go as long as you didn’t have to pay a single dollar.
So you sighed again, earning you a displeased click of the tongue from the other end of the call.
-
Your lack of interest maintained when the day came. You didn’t think you had ever been to a stadium when there was a game going on before and the arena was already filling up with people waiting to get it by the time you were there. You were delightedly surprised when you learnt that there would be vendors selling food, silently deciding that the very nice yakionigiri you got from one of the stalls might just be the highlight of your day. 
The staff at the store looked vaguely familiar, but you had no idea where you would have possibly seen him before.
When the lights of the venue switched off out of nowhere and the crowd cheered, perhaps you could finally start to understand why your friend was such a fanatic for sports. There was something exciting and grand about the bright spotlights and the announcer’s voice pounding through your ears from the speakers. You peeked at your side to see your friend’s eyes glimmering in a way you had never seen before and chuckled to yourself, leaning back with your legs crossed to watch the game in a better position as the players’ names were called one by one.
You froze in place when you saw a very familiar face on every screen around the stadium. 
“Number 13, Miya Atsumu!”
What happened to not being a big shot?
Screams filled up the stadium, especially ear grating when the loudest person seemed to be the one right next to you but your mind was an utter state of blank. You were not expecting to see him again, ever again but here you were, with the next several hours of your life stuck watching the man you ditched after a drunken one night stand in the very front row. He looked more put together than your last image of him, the tussled hair replaced by a careful side swoop and the fitted jersey giving him a fresher look compared to the suit he met you in. He seemed to enjoy the attention, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he marched out and waved languidly around the stadium. 
You thanked the genius who separated the court and the seats into two floors, hiding you away with the distance even though you were sitting at the very front.
“Oh my god, he’s looking at this direction, he’s looking at this direction!” your friend’s vigorous tug at your sleeve brought your void gaze back to the court.
You were convinced that there was no way he could spot you from that far away. Hell, it was still up to question whether he could see any of the audience with all the lights shining onto his face. But for a moment, just a brief moment, you had a gut feeling that your eyes met in that split second when you looked down and his gaze stopped at right where you were.
“What are you looking at?” Hinata asked, turning his head to the direction Atsumu kept stealing glances at as they lined up in front of the net but saw nothing.
Atsumu shook his head, giving a laugh to pass off the moment when he lost his composure when he thought he saw the face he kept thinking of since that night in the crowd. It has got to be an illusion, he must have been blinded by the lights. Stupid lights, he cursed under his breath before turning to his teammate. “It was nothing,” he smiled, his gaze shifting to the corner he thought he saw you at before quickly snapping back to the court, “just... thought I saw someone I know.”
He did not look at you again throughout the game much to your relief. But this time, you found it hard to stop your eyes from following him around. You would like to argue that it was because you didn’t know any of the other players and the way your friend kept gushing whenever he did something made it hard for you to ignore him but the way he seemed to flourish on court. Something inside of you jumped whenever he scored a point and the live cameras panned up at his face again, showing the satisfied grin and slanted eyes plastered on him. He did what he does so well and with so much confidence and for some reason, that explained to you just why you decided to leave with him that night at the club in the strangest way possible. 
He was, still, very good-looking even under the lights and under your sober judgement, perhaps even more so than your blurry memory of how he looked like with a flushed face. But the true hit to your chest was when the entire stadium was watching him as he got to the serving position, taking strides forward before raising his hand to the air.
The world stopped when the entire ground fell to silence at his command, and you took a deep, shaky inhale when you thought of how this person had kissed you again and again on a drunken night until you were both out of breath.
-
Atsumu was almost 99.9% sure he truly did see you when the match ended.
That last 0.1% was deducted because it was a really good match ending with a win for the Black Jackals and as hot-headed as he could be, he knew better than to believe everything that his adrenaline-filled brain was trying to tell him. But with the spotlights of the stadium dimmed and his full attention no longer required on the court, Atsumu looked straight at where he was sure you had sat the moment the stadium doors opened and people started leaving. It was a blurry glance, just a quick in and out of his vision but he was sure he saw you slipping out of the front row before disappearing into the stairs. 
He knew he could still be wrong, but the sudden realisation that he might be the closest to you now than he would ever be again left him frozen in the middle of the court as he stared blankly at the exit. Reporters were starting to gather around the players and his presence was expected, but his legs started moving before the call of his name by the rest of his team could land on his ear. 
Pushing through the crowd, the gasps and shocked chatters of the guests who saw the player they just watched dashing out the stadium were none of his concern. All he cared about was to run faster, faster, past the hall and past the people of the stalls that were packing up. He might have just mistaken someone else for you and if it really was you, you might have already left before he could get to the front entrance of the stadium but that did not matter. The only thing that mattered to him right now was that you had been there and if he ran fast enough, there was still a chance that his search all along would not be in vain.
Miya Atsumu was not exactly a believer of fate or a divine destiny but as he stumbled with tired legs down the steps of the grand glass door, he silently made a bet with the beings he wasn’t sure were truly there that if he missed you this time, he would take the defeat that your paths were not meant to cross again and give up.
And the beings, who Atsumu believed was actually there for the first time ever, answered his calls.
“Wait!”
Your feet planted into the concrete when you heard a yell behind you. Your jaw dropped when you hesitantly turned around to see him, whose name you now know thanks to the match, stopping just a few steps away from you with his hands on his knees, seemingly out of breath with his arm reached out. His eyes widened when he looked up and saw that you had stopped there, and you were exactly who he thought you might be. He was heaving, sweat drenching his face but he still took a few stumbled steps towards you until he was right in front of you. 
A few words fell out of his mouth but were cut short by his panting. Your head was still not reacting when he finally managed to stand back up, looking right at you even as his breathing stayed erratic.
What does one say to a one night stand that they ditched right when the morning comes?
“So,” you blurted, trying to ignore the heat on your face and the anxiousness in your chest, “not a big shot, huh?”
He let out a snort, his voice cracking as he ran his hand down his face to wipe away the sweat that was starting to get into his eyes. He could finally take the time to look at you now, after confirming that you would not disappear if he did so little as blink.
You were gorgeous, and suddenly all the things he had wanted to say to you sounded ridiculously stupid.
I tried to look for you.
“You left your ring at my place,” he said, his voice still shaking from the sprint he took, growing softer and softer with each word that came out.
“Oh,” you replied, nodding stiffly to try and brush away your nerves.
“Yeah,” he nodded too, and opened his mouth again after taking a gulp to swallow down the knot at the back of his throat, “we should arrange a time to meet so you can take it back from me.”
“Oh,” you stood just a little straighter, “but-” 
But it was just one of the five I got in a pack so it really, really didn’t matter that much.
“You said,” he looked down, holding back a smile as he thought of what you had said to him, “you said your grandma made you swore to never lose it.”
He remembered.
“Yes,” you pressed your lips together to stop the chuckle from coming out, “yes I was.”
“So you should come and get it back from me,” he suggested, the last note of his sentence going up as if he wasn’t sure of himself either.
“Yeah,” he beamed when you smiled sheepishly, “I should.”
“Ok good, good,” he murmured in joyful disbelief, grinning ear to ear. The grin faded suddenly when he thought of one very important thing he had forgotten to do last time and must not forget this time.
“Can I have your name?”
You burst out into laughter. “You can have my number too, if that’s what you want,” you mused, “Miya.”
 A rush of heat washed through his face at the sound of his name out of your mouth. He would die if you call him by his first name later on, he was sure of it.
“Yes,” he said almost embarrassingly fast, “yes I would love that. I-” he groaned when he realised that he still had his phone in his jacket that was left in the locker room.
“Wait for me here,” he had already started walking backwards, snapping towards you with his hand out as he added in panic, “don’t go anywhere!”
You still hadn’t stopped laughing when he sprinted back into the stadium again like his life depended on it.
-
Bonus
Miya Atsumu deleted all of the posts he made during his search for you the moment he added your contacts into his phone, but what he did not count was that there were other people who would preserve those precious memories for him.
It was a few weeks after he caught up to you in front of the stadium and several days after your relationship went public. Your friend had nearly torn your eardrums apart when they learnt that you were the mysterious person they had been hunting after but overall, dating Atsumu had been great, even to the point where you thought it was so stupid of you to run away from him in the first place.
You got a notification that someone direct messaged you on instagram as you were getting ready for a date night.
It was not someone you know but there was a verification mark next to his username. Clicking into his profile, you assumed that it must be one of Atsumu’s friends in the volleyball circle when you saw the line saying “EJP Raijin middle blocker”.
“Hi, I’m Suna, I was on the same high school team as your boyfriend was. I don’t think we have met but I’m sure we will be very good friends.”
Before you could manage to type out a reply, he sent you multiple pictures and you paused as they loaded, wondering what Atsumu’s old high school teammate might send you.
You blinked when the pictures finally finished loading, and silently dialed your boyfriend’s number.
“Do you have something you forgot to tell me about what you have done in order to try and find me online?”
428 notes · View notes
hanibalistic · 3 years
Text
#3D341A | LEE JENO.
genre | fluff and angst, demon au
word count | 2117
warning | mention of insecurities, suggestive themes
note | lapslock on a 2k blurb? yes.
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the first time you shed your glamor in front of jeno, it had been an accident.
you were always so careful with the way you looked, courtesy to the unsolicited criticism of others and the unwanted woes that came with them, and you were always so meticulous in your preparations to maintain the glamorized form of yourself.
with bottles and bottles of sparkly potions hidden behind the secret wall which entrance was blocked by a wooden shelf of grimoires and magic guide books, all made with great strength and patience, drinking a full bottle in the morning each day would help you maintain the idealized appearance you wanted others to see—bigger eyes, fuller lips, thinner bones, smaller nose, smoother skin, and silkier hair.
you have never missed a day with the potions, and you have never made any wrong calculations in regards to the making process of the potion; everything was taken into account, including the time needed for the herb gathering, the magic channeling, and the brewing of the potion itself. you would never run out of them, and you would never forget to take them.
you have always kept your glamor up without fault. but, unfortunately, jeno has learned no manners at all in all his years of being the insolent, bashful, infuriating demon that he was. barging into your room after you had sent him away and was not expecting his surprise return became your demise, as you had already shed your glamor for the day and were preparing to begin your night routine.
he saw you naked that night. standing by your desk, your perfect skin melting off and your face shifting off its mask, your glamor shed before him, and he saw you naked that night.
he saw you ugly.
you refused to meet him days after the accident, even though it was written in the contract of your pact that you two were to meet each other at least once every week until your deed to research hell magic, as well as your quest to retrieve your best friend's soul from that place was done.
jeno understood your decision. truth be told, he was in shock himself as well. who would have thought that the person he has made a pact with, the person he has been running stupid errands for in hell, the person he has been all over to consume and take the energy from, didn't look the way he always knew they did?
he has been too unassuming of you despite knowing your ability as a powerful sorcerer. little of those would risk their peaceful life meddling with creatures with him, taking one step further to study hell magic instead of being satisfied with earthly and heavenly magic. you had your reason, of course; that missing best friend of yours had you stepping through the shadowy gates with no regard for your own life. 
yet, still, jeno was unassuming of you, and he could hardly blame himself for it, really. 
the binding contract you two shared stated that in return for the resources you asked for, you would give jeno the soul energy needed not to maintain his form, but only to strengthen the power he already has. it was a simple transaction with non-simple repercussions; he gives you deadly herbs, ripped pages of spell books, information from great but dead magicians, and a great big headache for having to deal with his cockiness. you give him parts of your soul through energy transfer, which works through skin-on-skin contact.
normally, demons take soul energy through the act of a mere touch, something like a hand to the back of the shoulder, or a firm handshake if they managed to seal a mutual deal. the process is quick and straightforward, or at least it should be. jeno, however, liked to stall. more importantly, he liked you flustered and raspy in his hands.
there was never anything straightforward with him. there was only tension—tight, hot, budding tension. to jeno, the correct way and the only way to take your soul energy was through the act of roaming and touchy hands. there was only pinning you against your bed or setting you down on his lap, slipping his hands up your shirt or pulling its collar past one shoulder, sliding the tip of his nose down your jaw or leaving gentle marks on your neck.
the only way to take your energy was to leave you weak and putty in his hands, and it has never been easier for him to make your sexual innocence shine through by just pulling you closer to meet his abdomen. 
now, imagine his disappointment when he found out that the person he has been beaming up to, the person he has touched almost thoroughly, the person he has broken out of his comfort zone and shown any form of kindness for turns out to be more than meets the eye? that he has been putting his hands and lips and heart all over a superficial fantasy?
immediately after he had overcome the disbelief and confusion, he found himself struck with annoyance and, somewhat, rage at the pure idea that you wore a glamor with you whenever you met with him. that was, however, in no way an indication that jeno disliked your real form. 
he realized a little after you began seeing him again with the same glamorized form of yourself, and each time he felt a sudden surge of displeasure whenever he had to look at, talk to, and touch that dolled up face of yours, so much that he would rather miss his weekly dose of soul energy than take them from a willing you, that appearances has nothing to do with his raging emotions.
jeno just did not like that you felt the need to lie to him, and that you lied to him at all.
has he taught you shame? has he taught you to be shameful before him?
“take off your glamor.”
“and if i don’t?”
jeno looked to you in silence. you were being dismissive by tinkering with the herbs he just brought you from hell, placing them in jars and organizing them slowly so you could stall time. your glamor was back up, if not stronger than usual as he could sense it, and it was becoming an eyesore for him now that he has caught a glimpse of your true form.
he has been trying to get you to reveal yourself to him. admittedly, his determination and desperation to do so were mainly for his own good—he simply could not handle you, of all people, deceiving him, especially when the deception was nothing but a self-inflicted tragedy of being ashamed of one’s own appearance. to get you to shed your glamor was a favor to both himself and you; him so he could see you fully, and you to face yourself.
he has had no success in doing so, though. even though there were moments when he thought your eyes wavered at the sound of his irritation or the sight of him leaving without letting you fill your end of the bargain, ultimately, you never let up. you kept your glamor up, you kept the beautified features of yours up as long as you could.
“nothing happens,” jeno replied lowly as he shoved his hands into his pockets. he sent you a pointed glare, his gaze hallow and unseeing when he looked at you, making a point that he wanted nothing to do with your glamorized form. “i’m going to leave now. i’ll see you when i’ve gathered everything you need again.”
you almost slammed the jar against the table when he turned around. his painstaking attitude was understandable but intolerable. 
did he think you liked the glamor? did he think you wanted to reform yourself entirely just for people to like you? did he think you liked spending the effort on those potions? who else were you doing this for if not for people like him who pushes their beauty standards unsolicitedly onto people who just wanted to live to their heart’s content? why else would you be doing this if people didn’t teach you to be embarrassed for yourself?
nobody likes to be lied to, that bit you understood. but nobody ever talked about the superficial world created in which lies and cover-ups strengthen your stance. why wouldn’t you do it if it gives you an advantage? why wouldn’t you do it if it gets people off your back?
“you’re just going to ignore me because i don’t want to shed myself for you to see? that’s really mature of you, jeno,” you retorted, the anger in your voice a croaked mess as you battled the urge to cry.
“don’t blame this on me, [name],” he shrugged, “you do want to take off the glamor, you just don’t dare to.”
“and why the hell is that?” you asked with accusations in your tone.
“i don’t know!” he exclaimed with a breathy hiss, taking a sudden step toward you as his eyes flared a shade of demon red that made you stumble back against your table. 
when jeno calmed, the redness in his eyes faded with his anger, and everything in his bones was slowly replaced with softness and regret for having scared you. or perhaps you were upset that he had been mean and insensitive to your insecurities, which would explain the brimming tears behind your eyes. 
he had not meant to. it was in his hellish nature to snap, to be carried away with doing whatever serves him the best. if what he wanted was for you to give him the truth, he’d do whatever means to get it. bullying, snapping, threatening, neglecting—it would be hard to control himself in the heat of something he was passionate about. 
come to think of it, that part of him deserved a glamor much more than your looks that you disliked so much. at least his demonic nature served as a real threat to people he loved.
tentatively stepping toward you, he caged you to your desk with one hand clutching the edge of the table and the other reached up to the side of your face. he peered down at you with a chilling and shadowy gaze, one that held swirls of intimate longing, and he asked quietly, “have i taught you shame, my love? have i taught you to hate yourself, my love?”
you sniffed back a sob. 
the answer was no. jeno has never taught you any of those things. you were the one who taught yourself those things.
with the shivering of your body against his warm one, the glamor on yourself also began to shake itself off. it came off like melting ice, like lava, like the slope of a quicksand pit; your glamor shed and shed to reveal yourself to him. 
patches of rough skin you gained from practicing violent magic, dark scars that dotted your face from what should have been healed through your teenage years, a button nose flat and protruding as a gift from your lovely father, thin eyes that came from your kind mother, hair that no longer reflects the sun like a mirror, added weight to your torso and thighs—unflattering things. 
the fact that you unraveled yourself under jeno’s hand seemed to make you feel even more self-conscious, so much that you began sobbing.
“i’m sorry,” you told him. “why do you want me ugly, jeno?”
when he touched you this time, finally after so long, he didn’t do it to take your energy. he touched you for the sake of touching you, he touched you for the sake of having skin-to-skin contact with you, he touched you for the sake of keeping you both alive. it was what you both needed—affection through skin contact, an indication of unconditional love from another, the willingness to submit.
he kissed you carefully. his lips sliding from one place to another around your face, and his hands roamed your body to find spots he would grip and hold. you stood there trembling beneath his touch, turning weak and putty in his hands as you always did. the shivers in your breaths pounded against his chest that pressed tightly up against your own. they only began to slowly disappear the more jeno calmed you by latching his lips to yours, kissing you slowly and warmly, seemingly taking your doubts right out of your head.
“i don’t want you ugly, my love,” he mumbled between kisses.
jeno didn’t want you ugly. he wanted you real, you wanted you scarred and bruised, he wanted you open and vulnerable.
he wanted you his.
83 notes · View notes
vivithefolle · 4 years
Note
I just wanna ask, and don’t get mad at me cause I’m genuinely curious, how do you stan Ron? Like, I like him, but he is definitely misogynistic (slut shaming Ginny, treating hermione like she owes him something and being mad that she kissed someone years before, always objectifying Fleur, and acting like girls who aren’t pretty aren’t worth much). Like, by DH I feel like he definitely has mostly grown out of it, but still 6/7 books he’s kinda unbearable IMO
how do you stan Ron? 
Like this:
OH MY GOD HAVE YOU SEEN. HAVE YOU SEEN HIM DID YOU SEE MY BABY OH MY GOD. WHEN HARRY’S ARM HAD GONE KABLOOIE BECAUSE OF LOCKHART AND HE. RON. HE WAS. HELPING HIM GET DRESSED???? OH MY GOD BABY???? HHHHNNNNGGGG. AND. AND. AND ALSO WHEN HE. OMG. WHEN HE WAS PUTTING FOOD ON HIS FRIENDS’ PLATES LIKE. MOM FRIEND ALERT MOM FRIEND ALERT MOM FRIEND ALERT. AND THE WAY HE’S ALWAYS BLUSHING AND BEING EMBARRASSED AT THE SLIGHTEST PRAISE BUT ALSO HE’S SO DESPERATELY SEEKING IT BUT HE KNOWS HE CAN’T TAKE IT AND EEK EEK EEK THAT’S SO CUTE SOMEONE HOLD ME IT’S ADORABLE RONALD WEASLEY YOU ARE SO GOING TO BE THE DEATH OF ME IT’S ILLEGAL TO BE THIS CUTE!!!!
Ok and then.
he is definitely misogynistic 
No. And here’s why.
slut shaming Ginny 
Yes, that was wrong. And guess what, that’s also something he probably - scratch that, definitely - picked up from his mother. And also his brothers, recall how Fred and George too don’t like to see Ginny go around with boys. There’s also something to recall: Ron was there when Ginny was taken into the Chamber of Secrets and learned later that it was because she had trusted an older guy. You seriously wouldn’t be paranoid about who your sister dates after that? It was wrong. Yeah. And he more than learned his lesson when Ginny clapped back by virgin-shaming him and basically told him that he was childish because he hadn’t have a relationship yet. So would that make Ginny sexist too? Or is it just for Ron?
treating hermione like she owes him something 
..................... uuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhh... when? When the fuck did anything like that happen?
He made a prat of himself at the Yule Ball, that much is obvious. But he didn’t tell her anything like “you should be with me” or didn’t insinuate anything of the sort. He was a jealous bitch but kept attacking Krum, not Hermione.
If you mean in sixth year when he treated her with “icy, sneering indifference” for the course of two weeks, yeah that was bad but that’s not “treating her like she owes him something”, the fuck?
being mad that she kissed someone years before 
Yeah. I know. And that was bad, ooooh you got me to admit Ron did bad stuff, that’s what you want to see, right? And I reckon he was also mad that she hid it from him, and that he had to learn it from his sister of all people. We see Ron handles what he considers betrayals terribly. I have some meta discussing the possibility that he has a form of Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria.
always objectifying Fleur 
Um... no, he doesn’t. He makes a stupid comment about her once in GOF then stops. Let’s also fucking remember that Fleur is a Veela, she literally makes guys stare at her as part of her powers!! I’m not blaming her because she’s literally born that way, but you can’t blame someone who is under magical compulsion either.
acting like girls who aren’t pretty aren’t worth much 
So tell me why he was friends with Hermione then?
Because Hermione wasn’t Emma Watson the super hawt sexy model goddess. Hermione was Mrs Generic. Until this once at the Yule Ball when she got the pretty princess perfect Mary Sue makeover but then stopped because she had to remain ~relatable uwu~.
Again. Ron made stupid sexist comments. But it’s actively shown that he doesn’t follow up on them. If he did indeed live by the motto “girls who aren’t pretty aren’t worth much”, explain to me why he wasn’t simping and drooling all over Padma Patil who is explicitly stated to be one of the prettiest girls at school when she was his date? Why exactly did he ignore her and was a miserable twat the whole evening instead of basking in the joy of having snagging a girl that was “worth it”? Well surprise, it’s because HE ACTUALLY ISN’T LIKE THAT AND WHAT HE SAYS IS MAYBE SHIT HIS “COOL OLDER BROTHERS” SAY AND HE THINKS THAT BY EXTENSION IT WOULD MAKE HIM COOL TO REPEAT IT. MIMETISM, THAT'S BASIC FUCKING HUMAN PSYCHOLOGY FOR FUCKING TODDLERS MY FUCKING GOD.
Like, by DH I feel like he definitely has mostly grown out of it, 
............
...................................
...............................................................
so. so why. so why wouldn’t you. use that. as a reason. to stan him.
like.
fuck all the “hurr durr ron weasley the boy who made it out of the friendzone!!!!” bullshit, let’s start going with “Ron Weasley, the Boy who became a Man, and not one of those 'uugghh im such an alpha male’ ones but one that’s got the balls to say ‘hey love, I’ve got an idea, what if you kept doing that job you love and feel passionate about while I support you and do the majority of the childcare while also working a smaller job on the side so we’re never short on money’“
Why you people gotta be “yeah I like Ron BUTT” when you know full-well this fucking awful fandom will rake him over hot coals over the slightest mistake he does - worse, will actively go out of their way to interpret his positive moments in the most negative way possible??? Fuck off with that bullshit. Ron dared to say bad stuff omygah big deal, he was forgiven for it all and you’re just all cowards looking to feel “pure” by telling yourself “oh yeah but he was problematic once uwu”. FUCK. THAT. NOISE.
but still 6/7 books he’s kinda unbearable IMO 
And IMO he’s not, funny how that works
So.
I guess it’s impossible to stan Ron because he was problematic uwu.
Ok.
Then I hereby decree that it’s impossible to stan Hermione Granger because:
“I’ll bet you wish you hadn’t given up Divination now, don’t you, Hermione?” asked Parvati, smirking. [...] “Not  really,”  said  Hermione  indifferently,  who  was  reading  the  Daily Prophet. “I’ve never really liked horses.” She turned a page of the newspaper, scanning its columns. “He’s not a horse, he’s a centaur!” said Lavender, sounding shocked. “A gorgeous centaur . . .” sighed Parvati. “Either  way,  he’s  still  got  four  legs,”  said  Hermione  coolly.  “Any-way, I thought you two were all upset that Trelawney had gone?” - Order of the Phoenix, ch 27
wow casual use of a racial slur yay!!! A+
And it’s also forbidden to stan Harry Potter either since:
It was raining hard now, and she was nowhere to be seen. He simply did not understand what had happened; half an hour ago they had been getting along fine. “Women!”  he  muttered  angrily,  sloshing  down  the  rain-washed  street with his hands in his pockets. “What did she want to talk about Cedric  for  anyway?  Why  does  she  always want to drag up a subject that makes her act like a human hosepipe?” - Order of the Phoenix, ch 25
and
“Harry! There you are, thank goodness! Hi, Luna!”  “What’s  happened  to  you?”  asked  Harry,  for  Hermione  looked  distinctly  disheveled,  rather  as  though she had just fought her way out of a thicket of Devil’s Snare.  “Oh,  I’ve  just  escaped  —  I  mean,  I’ve  just  left  Cormac,”  she  said.  “Under  the  mistletoe,”  she  added in explanation, as Harry continued to look questioningly at her.  “Serves you right for coming with him,” he told her severely.  “I thought he’d annoy Ron most,” said Hermione dispassionately. “I debated for a while about Zacharias Smith, but I thought, on the whole —”  “You considered Smith?” said Harry, revoked. - Half-Blood Prince
Victim-blaming! Nice Harry, nice. Always classy.
Ok, Ginny stanning is already cancelled because she virgin-shamed Ron, right, so who’s left, who’s left... ah yeah:
“There you go,” said Fred proudly. “Best range of love potions you’ll find anywhere.” - Half-Blood Prince
Selling date rape drugs proudly ouh là là. Bye Fred.
"Do they work?” she asked.  “Certainly they work, for up to twenty-four hours at a time depending on the weight of the boy in question...”  “...and the attractiveness of the girl,” said George, reappearing suddenly at their side. “But we’re not  selling  them  to  our  sister,”  he  added,  becoming  suddenly  stern,  “not  when  she’s  already  got  about five boys on the go from what we’ve...”  “Whatever you’ve heard from Ron is a big fat lie,” said Ginny calmly, leaning forward to take a small pink pot off the shelf.
Assuming that only girls use love potions, and only on boys. Men never rape in JKR’s world, only women do, you heard it from George Weasley here folks, I’m just passing on the message. Ah and I hope you’re also starting the Fred And George Hate Club given how he’s also slut-shaming Ginny.
“What’s this?”  “Guaranteed  ten-second  pimple  vanisher,”  said  Fred.  “Excellent  on  everything  from  boils  to  blackheads,  but  don’t  change  the  subject.  Are  you  or  are  you  not  currently  going  out  with  a  boy  called Dean Thomas?” “Yes, I am,” said Ginny. “And last time I looked, he was definitely one boy, not five. What are those?”  She  was  pointing  at  a  number  of  round  balls  of  fluff  in  shades  of  pink  and  purple,  all  rolling  around the bottom of a cage and emitting high-pitched squeaks.  “Pygmy  Puffs,”  said  George.  “Miniature  puffskeins,  we  can’t  breed  them  fast  enough.  So  what  about Michael Corner?”  “I  dumped  him,  he  was  a  bad  loser,”  said  Ginny,  putting  a  finger  through  the  bars  of  the  cage  and watching the Pygmy Puffs crowd around it. “They’re really cute!”  “They’re  fairly  cuddly,  yes,”  conceded  Fred.  “But  you’re  moving  through  boyfriends  a  bit  fast,  aren’t you?”  Ginny turned to look at him, her hands on her hips. There was such a Mrs. Weasley-ish glare on her face that Harry was surprised Fred didn’t recoil.  “It’s none of your business. And I’ll thank you” she added angrily to Ron, who had just appeared at George’s elbow, laden with merchandise, “not to tell tales about me to these two!”
Ah, good on you for defending yourself, Ginny, but remember, Ginny stanning is prohibited because she’s been problematic in the past and is gonna be problematic in the future and that’s baaaaaaad. Careful kids, don’t get ideas. It’s problematic to like people who’ve done problematic things.
So I guess nobody can like anything or anyone now. Sorry guys. Liking things is evil, what if the thing you liked had, OR USED TO HAVE, *gasp* flaws, can’t take that risk, ohmygah.
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primalsouls · 4 years
Text
pinning
kaeya x gn! reader
⚠️ : none
theme : fluff
note: im still learning how to write kaeya lol anyway hope you enjoy reading it! i think i really like how this one turns out so i hope you do, too. :> thank you for reading ❤
⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰
Working at Angel's Share had its perks. On one hand, it was fun to watch drunkards make a fool of themselves, tell stories of their adventures if they were from the Adventures Guild or simply have good time after Knight hours. On the other hand, those same drunkards tend to leave a huge mess that someone had to deal with later on. [Y/N] was that someone. They had started working for Master Diluc's tavern a few weeks ago as a bartender. It wasn't their first time working behind the bar. They had worked a couple of other taverns until they decided to settle a life in Mondstadt, the City of Freedom, as they remembered was one of the many names the city had.
A tired sigh left their lips as they placed another clean glass on the shelf behind the counter. [Y/N] had finished serving drinks since no new customers arrive after a few hours ago. No one bother to get more, at least not at the moment. They thought they would be done with making drinks until a certain bluenette appeared from the corner of their vision. With a quiet groan, [Y/N] turned to fully face the captain of the Knights who sat in front of them with a grin. Before they could utter a word out, Kaeya beat them to it.
"You come here often?" He asked, a bright hue of red on his cheeks, his grin turning into a smirk. It was no doubt the man was drunk. The question, possibly an attempt at flirtation, left the bartender puzzled and dumbfounded at the same time. It wasn't the first the Calvary Capitan tried to flirt with them. And it was no lie that [Y/N] didn't found it entertaining. Without missing a beat, they glanced at the captain and opened their mouth to speak.
"Well, I work here," they began, arms crossed over their chest as they leaned against the counter. "So, I think I'd have to say 'yes'." The bartender continued, their head tilted to one side. Kaeya's smirk grew wider, clearly enjoying his time with the worker.
"Ah, what a shame. Perhaps if you work for the Knights of Favonius, we could have been seeing each other every day." Kaeya continued with his flirtatious comments towards [Y/N], who gave him a raise of a brow. A laugh left their lips as they shook their head.
"Please, I prefer not to be on Master Diluc's bad side." [Y/N] responded, taking another wet, clean glass and began to work on drying it with the cloth they left beside them. Kaeya propped an elbow on the surface of the bar counter, chin resting on the palm of his hand as the other brought the glass of wine he held to his lip. The pair stared at each other for a few minutes. [Y/N] didn't know what to make of it but the stare Kaeya gave made their stomach fluttered with butterflies. They won't admit it but they did had a thing for the captain of the knights and whenever they come across him, whether outside or inside of the tavern, Kaeya does make an attempt to befriend the bartender. And they allowed it. They did liked the attention from the one-eyed knight.
"Hmm... Does it matter whether you're on Diluc's good or bad side?" Kaeya started, placing the emptied wine glass on the counter and slid it towards the other carefully. "He isn't fond of everyone, you know."
[Y/N] pursued their lips together, thinking over his words. They only shrug when nothing came to mind, taking the glass after putting the other one they had away on the shelf. Turning their back on the Cryo user, the [hair color]-nette focused their attention on the glass, ignoring the burning gaze of the man. The ignorance didn't last long. They didn't like being stared at for too long, so gently placing the glass down, they looked back at Kaeya.
"Do you need anything else?" They asked, hands on their waist as they fully faced him.
"A date."
"Wha-what?"
A rosy blush bloomed across the bartender's face, their [eye color] eyes widen at the bold statement. They didn't expect to be ask so soon. Especially by someone like Kaeya, the Calvary Capitan of Knights of Favonius. [Y/N] glanced around, avoiding eye contact with the young man.
"You're really drunk, aren't you?" They asked, laughing the situation off but when they looked back at the bluenette vision user, a serious experience was what they were met with. It made the blush redder when [Y/N] realized he wasn't joking despite his state. They just couldn't believe. Of course, Kaeya flirted with them. Even make attempts to talk with them when he was no drunk or at the tavern. And they enjoyed those moments. But was it right to accept the date. Maybe he wouldn't remember the next day. No, that was not true. [Y/N] doesn't know how he does, but Kaeya does intend to know what he had done the day before after a drunk night at the Angel's Share. Guess not every drunkards forgets the night.
"So, what do you say, huh? Go on a date with me, [nickname]~." Kaeya continued to pester, leaning closer over the counter, eye shined with determination.
[Y/N]'s lips pressed into a thin line, their blush possibly spreading up towards their ears as they wiped the wine glass with shakily hands. Their heart skip a beat with each thought that came to mind about the date. So many possibilities could happen on the date, whether good or bad. They don't consider themselves date-able in terms of romantic relationships. No once had they been ask out before. So, what did Kaeya see in them? They only met a couple of months ago, ever since they started work in the tavern. And, possibly much like anyone else would, they did found the man attracted when they first met. And, yes, their eyes landed on the opening space of his shirt at first. They were embarrassed when Kaeya noticed and pointed it out.
But after a deep thinking, which they were grateful that Kaeya didn't push it, they came to a conclusion. [Y/N] sighed tiredly and looked back up at the captain, who stared at the bartender with a genuine smile that made their heart rate increased at the sight of it.
"I'll go on this date with you, but you better not forget about it tomorrow after your hangover." They said softly with a small frown on their forehead. Kaeya grinned at the answer as he nodded.
"Don't worry, dear. You should know by now that even after a horrid hangover, I won't forget about anything. Especially as important as our date." With a wink sent over their way, Kaeya reached over and took one of their hands, bringing it to his lips and place a kiss on each knuckle before pressing his lips longer on the top of the hand. Such action caused the butterflies inside [Y/N] to flutter more violently. It warm up their chest. Letting go, Kaeya smiled once more at the bartender as he left the pay for the drinks he took during his time at the tavern. "I'll see you tomorrow, my darling."
[Y/N] nodded, afraid that if they speak they would had sounded like a fool. They watched Kaeya stand up from the seat and turned his back on them, waving their hand as he made his way toward the door, but before he left, he looked back at the bartender. With the door already opened, Kaeya blew a kiss at their direction, a smirk on their face as he slipped out the door. The gesture froze the other in their spot, hoping their heart wouldn't burst out from their chest. They shook their head after a few minutes of silence, aside from the other patrons, and return back to their work, the blush still on their face being accompanied by the bashful smile that grew on their face. A date with Kaeya. How exciting. They couldn't wait for it.
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harryspet · 4 years
Note
Could you right a scene for sweet sister💎 where the oc grew up a bit and has a bf and realizes how wrong the things he did to her was? Like her confronting him and stuff like that. Btw love all your fics❤
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sweet sister [2] peter parker
[Warnings] dark peter parker x innocent reader, angst, stepcest, aged-up peter, dubcon, rough sex, male/female masturbation, manipulation, little editing 
A/N: I actually really enjoyed writing this! I hope everyone enjoys the part two!
In which you finally confront Peter for taking advantage of you.
part one 
word count: 1.6k
As your boyfriend parked in front of your family’s brownstone, you couldn’t help but feel a wave of anxiousness. You’d moved out two years into college and, although you visited a lot, this time was different.
You loved Peter. You were in love with him and, through your blind innocence, he had convinced you that he felt the same. 
When he said you two couldn’t be together, you didn’t understand. You’d spent the entire summer going on little dates and Peter taught you so much about sex and pleasure. When the summer was over and you wanted more, he up and left you. 
It took you a long time to heal from it. At least, you thought you had healed. 
“Do you want to wait in the car?” Ethan asked. 
You felt your eyes welling with tears but you quickly pretended like you were fine. You turned to your boyfriend, smiling, “No, of course not. Let’s go.”
You never told him the extent of what happened between you and Peter. Until you met your boyfriend, you hadn’t realized how corrupted you had been. Peter had violated your trust and innocence. He did things to you that a brother should never even think to do. 
Your visit home began smoothly. Happy was interrogating Ethan like usual, you were helping May out in the kitchen, and Peter called to say that he wasn’t going to make it. 
It was getting late, you were about to doze off as you rested your head on your boyfriend’s chest. Happy had chosen some old movie and the four of you piled into the living room to enjoy some more family time. 
Your boyfriend traced his fingers over the skin of your arm, making little shapes, and, although you were sure he didn’t notice, it always comforted you. You were about to close your eyes when suddenly the front door opened. May stood, going to greet Peter at the door, and your heart began to pound in your chest. 
“Peter, you made it!” As the two stepped into the living room, you sat up, taking in his appearance. He didn’t look much different, just a bit more tired in his eyes. By his duffle bags and casual clothing, you could tell he had just gotten off a flight. 
Both May and Happy were talking but their voice was muffled as you and Peter stared into each other. 
As Peter’s eyes found the hands wrapped around your waist, something deep within him snapped. Peter’s jaw clenched as he heard his Aunt May say, “Y/N? No hugs?”
You faked a smile, Peter knew better than to believe it. You grabbed your boyfriend’s hand, urging him to stand up with him, “Sorry, I’m just so tired,” As you approached Peter, you made sure to only give him a side hug, “Peter, this is my boyfriend.”
Your boyfriend was a little nervous to be meeting The Spider-man but he tried not to fanboy as he shook Peter’s hand, “It’s so nice to meet you, man.”
For the first time, you actually saw that Peter was bothered by something. He was usually so confident, especially around his family. 
“Yeah, same,” Peter spoke through clenched teeth, trying to fake a smile of his own, “You guys are watching a movie? Which one?”
“Yeah, Happy actually-”
You interrupted May, “I think we’re actually going to turn in. You missed a lot of the movie anyway, they already killed the evil aliens.”
Peter looked you over, gripping the strap of his bag tightly, and you could feel the anger radiating off of him, “Okay, well, I’ll make Ethan’s bed on the couch.”
“Wait, he’s going to stay with me in my room,” You said and both May and Happy paused awkwardly. 
“Y/N, you remember the rules. No boys in your room until you’re married,” Happy spoke, acting as fatherly as he could. 
If only they knew what kind of things had happened in your room. Your shoulders slumped and you looked at Ethan who was more than willing to not anger Happy, “Fine, I just want to sleep.”
+
Your old room was just like you had left it. You walked around it, now dressed in the matching pink set that was your pajamas, examining all the items of your past. You saw the pile of stuffed animals in the corner, the dollhouse you were way too old to play with, and your shelf of romance novels. 
As your eyes examined your canopy-covered bed, you saw yourself. You were shirtless, only wearing a pair of white panties, and you were sat on your knees. One of your favorite stuffed animals, Boris the Bear, was sitting between your legs. Its empty eyes stared up at you, innocent and not at all deserving of what Peter wanted you to do it. 
He was touching himself as he watched you, “Just-” A groan, “Just rub yourself against his nose.”
You did as he said, feeling that new sense of pleasure as you moved your hips back and forth. By how hard he was, how fast he was pumping his hand, you knew he liked it. You always liked when Peter was happy. Why wouldn’t you want your brother to be happy?
“Good girl. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”
“Yes, yes, Peter-”
You looked up, startled, as Peter appeared in front of you, “Are you daydreaming? You didn’t even hear me come in.”
His chest was bare, and you didn’t think it was possible for him to become more muscular. Years of being Spider-man can do that to someone, you assumed, “Get out-”
“Thinking of me?” You shook your head as Peter moved closer, cornering you.
“Of course not,” You lied. You had imagined this moment a million times, finally airing out your grievances and telling him how bad he hurt you. Now, you felt you were paralyzed as you took in his scent and felt the heat radiating off of him, “Peter. Get. Out.”
Peter scoffed, “You’re mad at me? Is it because of that boring piece of white bread sleeping on the couch downstairs?”
Anger rose in your chest, “Don’t talk about him that way. You have no right,” Seeing you all flustered only made him want you more. You were backed up against the wall, his hands on either side of your head as he stared into your eyes.
“I have no right?” Peter’s brow furrowed, “You’re my baby sister, of course I do.”
“You’re a predator, Peter,” You stated firmly which made his eyes darken, “You don’t care about me. You want one thing and now you’ve got it.”
“Your innocence? That’s true, I do have that,” Peter spoke more confidently than you expected, “But that’s not all I want.”
You pushed at his chest, trying to get him away from you but he swiftly grabbed your wrist and pinned them above your head. You struggled against his superhuman strength as he leaned in to kiss your neck, “Peter, no more! You lost your freaking mind a long time ago and all of this ends today. We’re done.”
You were stronger than you used to be. You had to be. 
He shushed you, “You’ll like it,” He dipped his hands between the fabric of your pajama bottoms and panties, feeling the slickness between your neck, “Is this from earlier when you were daydreaming about me?”
You shook your head, “We’re done, Peter. I-I have a boyfriend-”
“Then why are you getting wet for me?” Peter rubbed his fingers in circles as he continued to kiss your neck. He leaned into your ear, your heart pounding in your chest, “I’m gonna fuck you against this wall, Y/N, and I'm going to make you happy as any good brother would do too.”
This was wrong, you repeated it over and over in your mind. Everything he had done was devious and predatory. He took advantage of you yet, when your lips met, you felt your lips melt against his. 
Why was it such a heavenly feeling to have his lips on yours when it should feel like sin?
It was so passionate but clumsy as he pulled down your pajama bottoms and panties. It was like he might explode if he wasn’t inside of you in the next ten seconds. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he slid down his own boxers, letting his cock spring free. He grabbed one of your legs, lifting it as he positioned himself at your entrance. 
His tongue licked at your own as he slammed himself inside of you. It was so rough that one of your framed pictures fell off the wall. It was never like this that summer you spent together, Peter was always gentle with you but now he was a complete animal. 
He moved in and out of you quickly and, you thought it might hurt, but it was just as euphoric as the kiss. He swallowed your moans with his mouth as he pounded into you. Your nails scratched at his broad back, his cock hitting your sweet spot with every thrust. 
You both came hard, shaking as you gripped each other for support. Peter pressed against you, leaning into the wall, as he caught his breath. 
As soon as it over, reality hit you like a brick. What had you done? You’d manage to hurt Ethan and yourself so quickly. You pushed Peter away, brushing past him as you struggled to pull up your panties. A strangled cry left your lips as the emotions hit you all at once. 
Peter reached out to grab your hand, pulling you back, “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” You fell to your knees and Peter joined you quickly. He hugged you and you leaned your head against his shoulder, sobbing, “You did good. You’re always such a good girl for me, Y/N.”
“I hate you,” The words choked you as they struggled to leave your mouth.
You hated that deep down you craved his approval. Craved his pleasure. 
“But you’re mine, Y/N. I should’ve made that lesson number one,” He ran his soothing fingers through your hair, brushing away the shame, “Don’t worry, we’ll start our lessons again.”
+
Like, reblog and let me know what you think! (also, im sorry, but PLEASE don’t ask for a part three)
my requests are open
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hualianff · 4 years
Text
Untethered
Mountains – Hans Zimmer
When he was young, Xie Lian despised being out at sea. He would often get seasick by the steady back-and-forth rocking of the ship. The saltiness of the air and feverish heat from the sun didn’t help, so young Xie Lian would stay cooped up in his cabin below deck, holding his nauseated stomach.
The royal family frequently traveled across the oceans to maintain strong relationships with allied kingdoms. Therefore, Xie Lian wasn’t spared from the dreadful sailing trips. He eventually got used to the long days on the water without worrying himself ill, though it took many restless days and nights distracting himself from the surrounding stretches of blue that went on for ages.
Now, Xie Lian barely notices the subtle bobbing of the ship’s movements, cradled by the natural currents passing through. It’s not exactly peaceful, per se, but a mere constant that he welcomes with a numb mind. Currently sat at the vanity inside his chamber, still on the lower deck, Xie Lian stares wordlessly into the mirror, the intricate embellishments around the frame creating an illusion of warped vines and limbs.
His reflection blinks back tiredly, mouth set into an unhappy frown.
If his mother and father were to see him now, their disapproval would twist Xie Lian’s insides until the corners of his lips lifted to resemble a perfect smile. After all, princes must be charming and cordial, self-assured and righteous. Being anything less than an utmost pleasure to the public’s eye was unacceptable.
Until the day he weds, that is. After that, his behavior is expected to change to best accommodate his wife and the promise of children, his kingdom’s prosperity, and a long, honorable life. This was Xie Lian’s pre-conceived future, one that he had accepted years ago, but which felt like lifetimes away.
Alas, time waits for no one. Only one month prior had Xie Lian’s father informed him of his arranged engagement to a princess from a faraway kingdom.
***
“Father, I’m not ready,” Xie Lian pled, kneeling in front of the king, who sat on his throne in the private hall.
“Nonsense! You are beyond ready,” his father declared resolutely. “We cannot put training above your marriage any longer. A twenty-five-year-old prince with no spouse is a disgrace itself.”
Before Xie Lian could respond, the queen jumped in with words of her own.
“Your father is right, honey. It’s time you get a wife and begin the next chapter of your life. Don’t you want that?” she asks, placing her hand atop her husband’s, giving it a small squeeze.
It’s an indirect question: “Don’t you want to make us proud?”
Xie Lian trained his eyes on their feet so they wouldn’t see the devastation brewing within his irises. Appealing to the Xianle people, he could do. Taking on various studies to become the top educated prince, he could do. Practicing gratitude, discipline, and heavenly worship, Xie Lian could do.
But to be in a loveless marriage...a part of Xie Lian would die through a union of duty. While Xie Lian could wed a wonderful princess with the kindest soul and most clever mind, he would never come to love her. Not like a husband should love a wife.
That’s what saddened him the most. Xie Lian would end up locking him and his wife in superficial wedlock with the responsibilities for both kingdoms weighing down on their shoulders. Despite that this was how most arranged marriages went, Xie Lian knew that he ultimately wouldn’t be able to give his wife what she needed.
But his parents would hear none of it.
“You will set sail to the South to retrieve your soon-to-be-wife, as it is not appropriate for a princess to travel the seas by herself. Do you understand, son?” The king questioned with a tone of finality.
Xie Lian didn’t hesitate in lowering his head in acceptance, a quiet “Yes, father,” slipping effortlessly from his lips.
In those fifteen minutes, Xie Lian had sealed his fate in a path he did not choose.
***
Long hair. Pale foundation. Gem-stoned earrings. Satin robes.
Xie Lian scrutinizes his image in the mirror, dissatisfied, even though this presentation was well-acknowledged among commoners, nobility, and royalty alike. Someone once told him what mattered is not the state of oneself, but simply living as oneself. To be true. To be real. The feelings of guilt and shame arise when an outsider judges one’s surface, and to directly quote this person, “Who gives them the right to determine your worth?”
Regardless, Xie Lian was born into this life. He lives per the demands of others, and in return, he receives their love. Craning his head around, Xie Lian observes his fully furnished cabin for the thousandth time. Clothes of the finest fabrics hang from inside his closet, vivid blues and rich purples a stark contrast to the plain, white robes Xie Lian currently wears. There are antiques and collectibles from around the world, offered as tributes from people of all places. Not that Xie Lian has any use for them other than admiring such detailed craftsmanship.
His gaze sweeps over the bundle of books crammed into a sturdy, bamboo bookshelf. The queen had insisted Xie Lian take them on his journey to pass time by while still being productive. On top of the shelf sits the basket of his favorite snacks a fellow friend, Shi Qingxuan, had sent him with. Finally, in a large glass case tucked next to his bed, a magnificent sword lies strapped on a velvet cushion. It was a gift from the king when Xie Lian turned ten years old–a weapon to be treasured until the prince could properly handle its size and weight.
With a detached sigh, Xie Lian turns back to his vanity, now taking in the numerous beauty products, calligraphy brushes, and jewelry. His fingers find a gold ring with a dozen diamond-encrusted ornaments in the middle. Holding it up to the mirror, Xie Lian carefully slides the ring onto his ring finger, flipping his palm away to gauge the visual of wearing the ring.
It looks stunning.
But it feels wrong.
Xie Lian quickly slips the ring off, shoving it back into the small box. Looking back into the spotless mirror, the prince practices smiling as if it were his wedding day. But the harder he tries, the tighter his teeth clench and the more his throat clogs up. Xie Lian shakily exhales, shaking his head as he gives up.
For now.
Unconsciously, Xie Lian touches his hair, his earrings, his neck leading down to the parted collar of his robes, getting more frantic as his fingers rub along each area. The frame of the mirror constricts his reflection, and the wealth Xie Lian adorns as a representation of his character feels awful. It’s suffocating, but for some reason, Xie Lian’s breath quickens, his heartbeat speeding up at an ungodly rate.
The ship suddenly jerks sideways, startling Xie Lian as he flinches in his seat. When the ship tips the other way, he knows something is wrong.
On cue, a series of hasty knocks sound on the prince’s cabin door. Xie Lian allows his features to relax into a dejected expression before he stands up and opens the door. Two royal guards greet him with panic-stricken faces.
“My prince, our ship is under attack,” one of them informs, bowing his head in respect. “We advise you do not come out of your chambers until we rid the ship of all threats.”
“I see,” Xie Lian mumbles softly, bowing his head in return, even though he’s of a much higher status than his guards. Nevertheless, they are the ones who dedicate their lives to ensure his well-being. “Who has invaded our ship?”
Both guards share a nervous look, then turn toward their prince with a newfound urgency.
“Crimson Rain,” the second guard says gravely. Xie Lian’s breath stutters at the title, and his hands ball into twin fists. He still feels the phantom pressure of the ring on his finger.
“Do not worry, Prince Xianle. We will take care of those scoundrels. For now, keep your door locked. Don’t come out until we say it’s safe,” the first guard rushes out.
They bow once more, but Xie Lian barely processes their words. He only manages a weak, “Please be careful,” before turning around and shutting the door.
Xie Lian goes back to his vanity but doesn’t sit down. Instead, he prepares himself for battle, switching his fancy robes for lighter, tighter-fitting attire suitable for fighting. Next, he ties his hair back, keeping his signature white ribbon by wrapping it around the top bun. Xie Lian finds the most worn-out pair of boots he has, lacing them up mindlessly.
When he stands in front of the mirror, Xie Lian looks like a completely different person. Though his face remains smooth and his complexion flawless, the rest of his appearance renders him aggressive and even lethal.
He relishes this image.
Xie Lian waits a few more minutes for extra measure, then takes out the sword he’s had since he was ten years old, now able to put it to good use once again. Xie Lian pushes his cabin door open and walks directly out into a morbid battlefield brewing with danger and destruction.
《II》
79 notes · View notes
divine-bangtan · 4 years
Text
- sugar & spice (m) jjk & kth
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➻ 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
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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.
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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. 
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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.
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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…”
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.”
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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!”
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➻ 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! 
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silvergolddraco28 · 1 year
Text
Soulmate
1 Rot
“That should be enough training for today Kid.” a golden-furred humanoid monkey stated, the creature dressed in a simple pair of loose-fitting pants and a long-sleeve shirt while addressing a young human teen who was panting on the ground.
“I think I'm dying.” the teen groaned.
“You're not dying, you're just exhausted since it's been a while since you’ve put that much effort into your fights.” the golden simian countered helping the teen up.
“Thanks, Monkey King. Are you going back to Flower Fruit Mountain or staying here tonight?” the teen asked, looking around at the small temple the simian called his Shame Temple, one that the teen had actually never seen inside of past the training yard.
“I think I’ll be here for another hour or two then head back to the Mountain to check on my monkeys. Better get going before your late Mk.” the simian reminded the teen who checked his phone and made a face of fright.
“Gah! Pigsy is going to kill me, bye Monkey King see you later!” the teen shouted running out. The simian simply had a soft smile on his face before it faded along with the sound of the delivery cart the teen drove.
The simian placed a pawed hand on the gates letting a flash of gold seal them before heading inside the small temple shedding the shirt he wore. He reached a hand up to his left shoulder rubbing at the junction of his shoulder and neck. “Didn’t think it would be this soon after the bone demon’s defeat.” the monkey sighed his tail flicking anxiously behind him as he headed deeper into the temple. Faint scars traced up his body becoming more prominent the deeper he went into the temple, a golden glint around his forehead as he came to the innermost chamber of the temple and sealed the door sitting down on a lone cushion in front of a small altar with an obsidian black knife buried deep in its stone surface.
The simian closed his eyes already knowing this was going to be painful as he removed his hand from his shoulder wincing at the pulsing and rotten-looking section of his shoulder and neck leaking a thick purple ooze. With a practiced motion, the simian picked up the incredibly sharp blade from the stone racing it near his lips and blowing fire onto the blade heating it until it was glowing red before he slowly began to carve out the rotten flesh from his own shoulder not even screaming at the smell of burning fur and flesh. By the time the rot was carved out he had gone as far as to remove his entire left shoulder before heating the knife once more and slicing open his chest to remove his heart waiting for a second one to grow before placing the one he had cut out near the rotting limb. He simply watched the thick purple ooze consume both the arm and the heart on the altar before cleaning the stone with his fire. He took a breath and shuttered looking close to breaking down. His ear flicked to the left before he finally spoke.
“Are you going to ask or just continue watching me, Mac?” the golden monkey asked, his tone gave the impression he was just far too tired to fight at the moment.
The monkey waited for an answer but received none causing him a bit of confusion. ‘Am I hallucinating from blood loss again? Damn, if Mihou saw me now he’d probably be laughing his ass off while teasing me for being sentimental.’ the monkey thought standing up and swaying slightly before shaking it off, allowing more wounds and scars that covered his body to be seen now that he was completely alone even from his own hallucination driven mind.
He wondered the temple until he entered the room no bigger than a large closet stuffed with blankets and pillows in the form of a best, a shelf to the left held bottles of various pills and potions while the shelf to the right had two origami monkeys one was pure white and the other was black as night both being surrounded by heavy looking wax candles. The black paper monkey was tall and imposing with an air of mischief while the white paper monkey looked to be bashful with an essence of pure innocence. Golden ruby eyes sadly looked at the origami before focusing on the pills and potions grabbing an empty bottle and putting several different pills in it before pouring different amounts of potion into the bottle grimacing before downing the concoction down in one gulp, coughing once it was down his throat.
The monkey placed the now empty bottle on the shelf curling up in the center of the best that faintly smelled of plums and sage. ‘Might have to raid Mihou’s room again for another pillow.’ The sage sleepily thought as the potion worked its magic and he was soon ‘dead’ to the world in a deep dreamless sleep, his shoulder slowly rotting again as he slept just as fast as it was healing.
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When the Sun Goes Down
This story is a heavily edited adaptation of “Gabriel-Ernest”, written by H.H. Munro in 1909. I owe this whole story to @tinyplaidninjas​ (thank you for helping me fix my werewolf story dilemma).
This is almost 3k words long, fair warning
tw: kinda horny, nudity
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"There is a wild beast in your woods," said Lambert, as the two men were being driven to the station. It was the only remark he’d made during the drive, but since Geralt had talked incessantly about his latest publication in the Kaedwen Journal of Medicine, his half-brother’s silence had not been noticeable.
"A stray fox or two, or perhaps some wandering brownies. Nothing more formidable," said Geralt. His brother said nothing.
---
"What did you mean about a wild beast?" Geralt asked later, when they were on the train platform with their bags and tickets in hand. Geralt was bound for his private woodland estate while Lambert was making his way into town to visit with friends. 
"Nothing. Probably just my wild imagination running away with me again. Here comes the train," Lambert rushed. 
Geralt found it odd, but said nothing. Perhaps he should not have gone on at length about the Medical Journal in the carriage. Perhaps Lambert was tired or overanxious about his meeting with Aiden. It had been years since the two college friends had seen each other in person and Geralt knew that his brother held the other, equally brilliant artist in high esteem. Surely, that was the reason for Lambert’s odd dismissal of his questions.
---
Once he’d returned to his estate and unpacked his bags, Geralt decided to take a stroll through the woods. He often took a leisurely walk in the late afternoon; the trees were full of chittering animals and preening birds this time of day, after all. The natural scientist and medical doctor found the great outdoors to be brimming with new discoveries. He wanted to pick everything apart and reassemble it accurately and down to the last minute detail. He wanted to know why certain animals behaved the way they did and how they communicated with each other. He wanted to know why the little white flowering plants in his yard only bloomed every other day. He craved the answer to the universal question of why as it applied to everything.
The doctor would often spend long afternoons sitting absolutely still in the center of his garden, observing the wildlife as it moved around him. Last summer he’d even managed to get a wild rabbit to eat out of his hand. 
Now, though, the forest path seemed uncomfortably quiet. Had a larger predator taken to wandering his grounds? If so, he’d need to send word to a local hunter’s lodge and request assistance in ridding himself of the pest. As he was debating who to inquire after, he came across an unusual sight.
On a shelf of smooth stone overhanging a deep pool just to the side of the path, a boy of eighteen lay asprawl. He was drying his tan, dripping limbs luxuriously in the light of the late-summer sun and he had very few cares about doing so, according to his state of complete undress. His wet brown hair, (disheveled as it was by a recent mussing with his long, slender fingers) and bright blue eyes, so light that there was an almost cat-like gleam to them, were aimed in Geralt’s direction with a sense of lazy watchfulness. 
He was an unexpected although not unwelcome apparition, and Geralt found himself quite ignoring his eldest brother’s good advice of “thinking before one spoke”. He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest in what he hoped was a stance of great authority. 
"What are you doing on my property?" he demanded. “And have you no shame? Trespassing for a cool dip in the water I could forgive, but you don’t even have the proper clothing to do so.”
"Obviously I came here to have a swim and sun myself," replied the boy. “I rather like how it feels to be bare beneath the warmth of the open sky.”
"Where do you live?" Geralt inquired, stepping closer. Every instinct in his body was telling him to run. To flee this place and the presence of his estate’s mysterious visitor.
"Here and there within these woods."
"You can't live in the woods," Geralt frowned. “It’s not proper.”
"They are very nice woods," said the boy. To Geralt his tone sounded almost patronizing. Borderline condescending. The doctor bristled and stepped forward again. 
“You can’t possibly be surviving out here like this!”
“I am rather proficient at fending for myself.”
"Then where do you sleep at night?"
"I don't sleep at night,” the boy winked one of his cornflower eyes. The movement had Geralt’s head reeling and his heart thundering within the confines of his waistcoat. “That's my busiest time, dear heart."
"What do you eat?" the young professor and doctor finally asked. It felt as if that question had been on the tip of his tongue since he’d seen the strange creature come into view and only now did he have the adequate terror in his veins to ask it. 
"Flesh," said the boy. He said the word slowly and carefully, almost as if he was running his tongue along every later to catch their flavor.
“What a horrible thing to say.”
“Hmm, it is the truth,” the slender youth rolled onto his back and tilted his head over the stony ledge. His mop of chestnut hair dangled down towards the water and he gazed steadily at the doctor from upside down, “I am plenty good at catching hares and birds and mice and men. I am not picky, you see. I gobble them all up.”
Geralt nearly choked on his tongue. His face flushed and his cheeks grew hot with indignance (and perhaps something else, a stirring in his belly that he quietly ignored). The audacity of such a creature! Such open and frank fliration was unheard of, especially since he was so indecorously nude!
"I can’t imagine you’re eating well. The rabbits on my estate have never been easy to trap or catch or corner. Not even my father’s best games keeper could do it, and that man lived on the property for nearly sixty years.”
"It is easier for me to hunt them than it is for your game keeper to trap them, Dr. Bellegarde,” the boy winked again. The sound of his name in the stranger’s mouth had Geralt mildly panicked. Did he know this improper young villain? Had he forgotten the boy’s name? Had the lad followed him back from university? The strange young man added another cryptic statement, “At night I hunt on four feet. It’s faster that way.”
"I suppose you’re referring to a dog?" Geralt offered. “And wouldn’t that be considered poaching, you hunting on my lands at night with your hound?”
The boy laughed a weird, low laugh; it was pleasantly like a chuckle and disagreeably like a snarl. Both portions of the sound had Geralt’s heart racing even faster in his chest. It felt nearly as painful as he’d expected from cardiac distress and he breathed evenly like he’d been taught to do under such duress. Slowly, the panicked feeling faded away and he gazed back at his trespasser with narrowed eyes. “Why are you laughing, then?”
"I don't think any dog would be very anxious for my company, especially not at night. We wouldn’t get along with each other, me and a dog.”
Geralt began to suspect (with a deep and primal sense of ever growing dread) that there was something odd and uncanny about the strange-eyed, silver-tongued youth lounging above the pond. He uncrossed his arms and put his hands on his hips, “Well you can’t keep sleeping in the woods.”
“I fancy you’d rather not have me in your house.”
The prospect of this wild, naked animal loose in the professor’s neatly ordered and well-kept manor was certainly an alarming one. Geralt glared and shook his head, dislodging some of his long white hair from its ribbon. 
"If you don't go then I shall have to make you.”
The boy flipped onto his front in a flash and plunged into the pool. In the span of a moment he had crossed the short expanse of water and flung his glistening body half-way up the bank where Geralt was standing. For an otter the movement would not have been remarkable; for a boy it was sufficiently startling. Geralt’s leather-booted foot slipped as he jerked backwards involuntarily. After his arms windmilled for a moment and his balance failed him, the young doctor found himself almost prostrate on the slippery weed-grown shore of the pond with those cat-like blue eyes mere inches from his own. 
He raised a hand to his throat instinctively and the boy laughed again; a laugh in which the snarl had nearly driven out the chuckle entirely. Then, with another of his astonishing lightning movements, the naked youth plunged out of view into a yielding tangle of weed and fern.
"What an extraordinarily wild animal!" said Geralt as he picked himself up. Then he recalled Lambert’s remark on the train station’s waiting platform: "There is a wild beast in your woods."
As he meandered his way back towards the manor proper, Dr. Bellegarde began to turn over in his mind some of the various local occurrences which might be traceable to the existence of his astonishing young savage.
According to the local paper, gathered the day previous by his valet, something had been thinning the game in the woods lately. Poultry had gone missing from several neighboring farms and factories, hares and rabbits were growing unaccountably scarcer, and complaints had reached the local constabulary of lambs being carried out of their pastures in the hills. Could it be possible that this wild boy was really hunting the countryside with a pack of obedient hounds? 
The oddly pretty creature had spoken of hunting "four-footed" by night, but then, again, he had hinted strangely at no dog caring to come near him, "especially at night." It was certainly puzzling. 
And then, as Geralt was running his mind over the various odd occurrences he’d heard reported from the village in the past few months, he came suddenly to a dead stop. The young man that had gone missing from the milling town upriver two months ago--the accepted theory was that he had tumbled into the millwheel and been swept away; but the boy’s mother had insisted that merely run away with some village girl (who had also disappeared). 
He thought of the village youngster, who’d been applying to attend Oxenfurt at the time of his mysterious yet apparent death. Perhaps they were one in the same; but then, why in all the world, would a college hopeful by lying naked in the woods outside Dr. Bellegarde’s lonesome manor house? It was odd. Very odd.
"Where's your voice gone to, Doctor?" asked his housekeeper, Ms. Merrigold. "One would think you had seen a wolf on your walk."
At breakfast next morning, Geralt was overwhelmingly conscious that his feeling of uneasiness regarding yesterday's episode with the boy had not wholly disappeared. He had decided to go into the village and talk with Lambert about the “beast in his woods” and learn what his brother had really seen that had made him so twitchy. With his day planned and his mind slightly more settled, his usual cheerfulness partially returned. The doctor hummed a bright little melody as he sauntered to the morning-room for his customary cup of tea with Ms. Merrigold. 
As Geralt entered the morning-room and scanned the familiar space his humming made way abruptly for a quietly shouted curse. Gracefully laid out atop his red velvet settee, in an attitude of almost exaggerated repose, was the boy from the woods. He was drier than when the doctor had last seen him, but still he remained entirely naked. Every inch of his lovely, soft-looking skin was on display; Geralt averted his eyes as quickly as possible and tried to hide his blushing face from the grinning minx.
"How dare you come in here like this!” he huffed.
"You told me I was not allowed to stay in the woods," said the boy calmly. He propped his elbow up on the cushion and laid his cheek against his palm, languidly stretching his legs out at the same time. The doctor breathed deeply and kept his eyes firmly locked with the strange young man’s. 
"I did not invite you to come here!"
“Then I have misunderstood,” the boy sighed. The hand that had been supporting his head moved down and flattened against the settee. His arm straightened and his torso lengthened with the movement. Now sitting with one knee resting slightly bent atop the other, his hair messy and his shockingly blue eyes half-lidded, he looked like the painting of a young Cupid. 
“Triss!” Geralt called, desperate for another person to intervene on his behalf. To save him from this tempting little beast. “Triss, fetch one of the pantry boys. We have a guest and he’s...he’s quite out of sorts.”
“Yes, Dr. Bellegarde,” his housekeeper called back. “Right away, sir!”
The boy giggled from the couch and Geralt whirled back to look at him. His finger was playing gently with the plumpest part of his lip and the young professor found himself flushing yet again. “Yes, Dr. Bellegard. Hurry to cover me up right away.” 
---
Lambert was less than helpful when Geralt first asked about the beastly reference he’d made at the station.
"My dear father died of some brain trouble," he explained, "So you will understand why I am averse to dwelling on anything of an impossibly fantastic nature that I may see or think that I have seen. I don’t even know that I saw anything, you understand?”
"I am a medical doctor, Lambert, of course I understand. But what did you see?" Geralt inquired. “I must know.”
"What I thought I saw was something so extraordinary that no really sane man could dignify it with the credit of having actually happened. I was standing at the end of the lane near your manor property, half-hidden in the hedge growth by the orchard gate. I’d been watching the dying glow of the sunset and committing to memory for use in a future painting. Nothing extraordinary, of course, but beautiful nonetheless. 
“It was then that I became aware of a naked boy. I assumed that he was a bather from some neighboring pool who was standing out on the bare hillside, also taking a moment to watch and appreciate the sunset. His pose was so suggestive of some wild faun of Pagan myth that I instantly wanted to engage him as a model, and in another moment I think I should have hailed him over to my hiding spot to discuss such a matter. Just then, however, the sun was lost over the edge of the horizon and the last of its warm orange glow slid away. The landscape was left a cold and gloomy grey.”
“And what of the boy? Your language is poetic, Lambert, but I’ve grown rather impatient!”
“The boy was gone, Geralt!”
"What? Did he simply vanish into nothing like some ghost or phantom?"
"No; that’s the most terrifying part, you see," answered the artist; "That’s the whole reason I didn’t want to tell you about this problem in the first place. Geralt, my dearest brother, on the open hillside where my momentary muse had been standing a second before, there was a wolf instead. It had shaggy brown-black fur and huge, gleaming fangs. Most terrifying of all were its huge, bright blue eyes.”
Geralt’s mind whirled with the new information. Lambert had indeed given him the details he’d so desperately needed to draw his final, strange conclusion: the boy was a werewolf! He thanked his younger half-sibling and made his departure, hurrying back to the manor as quickly as possible.
He had to make it home before dark.
---
“The moon isn’t full tonight,” the boy sighed. Triss had managed to wrestle him into a clean shirt and a pair of cropped blue breeches but despite the clothing he still seemed to ooze a sense of easy, naked confidence. The slim brunette was draped across the chaise lounge of Geralt’s personal study, his bare feet hanging over the arm. 
“So?”
“So I will not transform into the horrible monster you fear I shall become,” he sighed again. He rolled his eyes in Geralt’s direction and smirked. “You and your housekeeper are safe. As is your cook, your pageboy, your valet, and your terribly friendly mare. Roach, right?”
“Hmm. You’ve been through my things?”
“Triss allowed me to wander the house and the grounds but then she forced me to bathe again when I came back in,” he frowned. “Soap does not agree with me and neither do these prickly, constricting clothes.”
“And your name?” Geralt asked, finally. “Since you have proven to know me already.”
“You may call me Jaskier,” the boy said, popping up from the couch. He offered his hand, which Geralt shook rather nervously. “And I’ve already decided that I’m going to be staying for awhile.”
“Why should I allow you to stay?” the young doctor bristled. “What have you to offer me in return for room and board?”
“I have no money, but I’m a wonderful gardener and I’m sure that there are, Dr. Bellegarde, other ways we can pass the time together. I sense that we are kindred spirits in many ways.”
Geralt blushed and swallowed hard, blinking down at the boy, whose fingers were playing with the material of the doctor’s cravat. His blue eyes peeked up through their bordering black lashes and Geralt’s will crumbled to dust. “Alright. I suppose you can stay; if it keeps the village safe.”
“Very safe,” the werewolf, Jaskier, smiled. His delicate little paw with its long, lithe fingers spread over the material of Geralt’s silk waistcoat, right over his heart. “So very safe, indeed.”
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bittybattybunny · 4 years
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this was a curse for Eclipse suggested by @doodleimprovement!! “Moodring hair/eyes”
Fae curses are the one kinda Eclipse can be prey to but most fae don’t wanna risk the grim’s anger
doesn’t mean a few aren’t gonna try to hook her up with princey
Ficlet! (btw timeline; this is before he knows about the werewolf thing)
Eclipse whined as she looked at the mirror. She hadn’t imagined it. She pulled the long strands forward as the red hair slowly turned black the more stressed out she got. She reached and touched her right eye as she saw it mimic the same colors of her hair. She gave a deep sigh and knelt down gripping the sink. A little earth fairy smiled happily at her.
“Good! Good! Light fairies helped! Prisma heart!” it chirped and hugged her leg.
She sighed and patted its head, “no this is bad! Bad! You know I’m really weak to fae magic!” she groaned, “prisma heart….” she stood up and grabbed a hair tie. She stepped from the bathroom as Marcus floated around the living room, his books tied up with threads as he worked on mixing a potion together, a harpy sitting at the table with a splinted wing.
“Oh hello, Daughter of grim.” the bird-woman sang.
“Oh, Hello daughter of the air.” Eclipse gave a bow, her hair taking a light blue tone. Marcus stared for a moment, a quizzical look. He stopped as his potion smoked in his face and he gasped, coughing from the vapor.
“Ugh. even dead that’s such an ass.” he grumbled, “Hold on let me remix this, Anya.”
“No rush, I don’t have anywhere to be tonight. My wife’s busy at a sabbat.” she chuckled as he threw the ruined bottle towards the trash where it exploded in a blue puff.
Eclipse snickered as her hair and eye turned green, but then an orange. “Marcus the little ones cast Prisma heart on me.”
The earth fairy puffed its chest proudly.
“Is that what’s going on?” he grabbed some herbs and a bottle from the shelf, “that’s fun. Only lasts--- what a week?”
“Kiss! Kiss!” The earth fairy chirped happily, “Princey kiss!” it made a kissy face as Marcus stared. He snorted and laughed very loudly.
“I think they want you to kiss my brother.” he pointed out. He cackled watching her hair take a magenta tone as she flushed. He tilted his head and flew over, “Oh interesting, your black eye is doing it too.”
She frowned as her hair and eye turned icy blue and she gulped, “I-I don’t think they want me to do that. And of course, it will! It reflects magic!” she huffed. “Marcus get this spell off me!”
“I can’t.” he shrugged and returned to mixing.
Anya chuckled, “are you in love?” she asked teasingly.
The wolf’s hair turned magenta again. There was a knock at the door and she groaned. Snatcher opened the door with a huff, followed by Kaya who looked at her and got a wide grin across her face.
“Eclipse!” Snatcher grinned, “We came to pick you up!” 
“What great timing!” Marcus threw some water in the vial and shook it.
Kaya frowned, she removed a hand from her coat to point,  “that’s going to---”
Another cloud of smoke blew up in his face. She laughed at him and walked over as Snatcher climbed the stairs. Eclipse’s hair took an icy tone once more the closer Snatcher got. He paused and blinked. He reached to take a strand of her hair in his hand. He frowned as it took a magenta tone.
“What’s with your hair?” he asked as he looked at it.
“Princey kiss! Princey kiss!” the earth fae jumped onto the railing with a big grin, “Prisma Heart! Shine! Insides out!”
“What? Kiss? Prisma what?” Snatcher looked at the fairy confused as Eclipse tried to hide her face in shame.
“I-I got a fae curse cast on me,” she admitted with a heavy sigh.
“O-Oh.” He stared, “I thought you didn’t get cursed?”
“I-I can, fae curses work fairly well on me,” she mumbled and played with a lock of hair as it turned a lighter pink. “C-Cursed objects normally don’t…”
“I see.” he frowned, “why does it want me to kiss you?”
“I-I think it’s a joke. I was explaining to them how you messed with a sea heart and I used a kiss to fix it…”
He felt his face heat up, “S-So if I kiss you it should break?”
She felt her own cheeks grow very warm, her hair back to the embarrassing magenta shade. He placed a cold hand on her cheek with a small, apologetic grin.
She pushed him away, her hair turning dark black. She gripped the strands and gripped her arms in her stressed state. A teal color on the tips as she looked at him nervously. Eyes wide and panicked.
He stared confused by her rejection. He got closer on the stairwell, “Eclipse… a-are you still mad I licked you when I was a leviathan?”
“N-No I’m not mad at all! F-Far from it!” she stammered as her hair quickly bounced between black, teal, and icy blue before even taking a dark pink color as she thought of it. She gulped, “I-I just don’t want to make you k-k-k-k-kiss me b-b-b-because you are f-f-forced is all! I-It’ll fade in a week! I-I’ll just---” She squeaked as he rolled his eyes and got closer to her. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her close. Her heart pounded in her chest as he smiled at her.
“I don’t mind helping a friend,” he spoke softly. He looked at the fairy who was giggling like mad.
“Can I kiss her cheek and it works?”
She gave a small sigh of relief, hair taking a more deep blue tone.
“Mmmmm.” the fae thought about it, “Princey no want lip kiss?”
Snatcher turned bright red and scoffed. He looked at the floor sheepishly, gold eyes averted away.
“He wouldn’t want that! He only does that when he’s drunk!” Eclipse snickered. She gasped when the former prince whipped his head back around, gold eyes locking with hers. Her hair turned magenta once more as he got closer. He gulped and one hand moved to the back of her head.
She closed her eyes tightly as he pressed his lips to hers. But he quickly pulled away. He covered his mouth ashamed as the color in her hair slowly faded, returning to its natural silver state, her eye changing back to black with it.
The fairy giggled and jumped up, kissing Eclipse’s cheek before flying off.
She felt her face turning bright red and looked at the floor ashamed. He pulled away and rubbed his neck awkwardly until they heard another explosion and looked down to see Marcus covered in a glittery, shimmery, slimy, blue substance. Kaya’s four eyes open in shock as the same mixture coated her. She stuck her forked tongue out as she grimaced and sneezed, sending the blue gunk everywhere.
Anya couldn’t help laughing at all the children in the cabin.
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saijspellhart · 4 years
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Could you do 8 for Radicalshipping? I think it would be sweet :)
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8. Laying a gentle kiss to the back of the other’s hand. (Radicalshipping)
3. A breathy demand: “Kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond. (Radicalshipping)
16. One person pouting, only to have it removed by a kiss from the other person. (Radicalshipping)
“I knew he only liked me for my body,” Bakura spat. He flicked a duel monsters card at the TV and watched it hit the screen and deflect off of Malik’s face and join its brethren on the floor.
They were watching a tournament on the television, and the broadcast was currently wrapping up Malik’s latest duel. He’d been successful of course, and they were in the post duel interviews where Malik was answering questions about his plays. Ryou was with him, their arms thrown over the other’s shoulder in congratulations and friendship.
Malik leaned his head against Ryou’s and smiled at the camera, bright and proud.
Bakura flung another card at the TV.
“I like your body.” Yami Marik pulled off a pair of headphones, and turned away from his game at the desk.
Bakura threw a card at him too. “That’s the whole point you twit! This isn’t my body.” He gestured to himself, his thin lanky frame. There were muscles, because Bakura worked for them. But they weren’t incredibly defined because Ryou had never had that sort of stature. Upon being given a second chance at life, the gods had humbled Bakura by giving him a replica of Ryou’s body, rather than his original body. “And now Malik is shacking up with my former host.”
Marik eyed the television which was still showing the interviews with Malik. He’d been purposely ignoring this portion of the broadcast. Seeing his other half always stirred troubled emotions of resent and anger in him. Feelings he was working hard to overcome.
“They look like friends to me,” Marik remarked.
“Feh,” Bakura shuffled the stack of cards in his hand. He was lounging across the couch, one foot crossed over the other. The floor around the apartment was littered with Duel Monsters cards that he’d been throwing for the last hour.
“Well he certainly wouldn’t like you for your personality,” Marik snipped. “You’re an insufferable bastard.”
“Prick,” Bakura spat.
“Bitch.”
“Wanker.”
“Look! Yugi’s on!” Marik suddenly leaped from the chair and vaulted over the couch. He snatched the remote off the coffee table, and was already turning up the volume. Bakura didn’t bother to move his legs, which didn’t bother Marik at all. He climbed onto the couch, crouching on it like L from Death Note rather than a sane normal person.
Then again, Yami Marik was not a sane and normal person. In the years of separation from Malik—and with the gift of his own body—Marik had grown into himself. In some ways he had matured, grown, and mellowed out, but in other ways he’d developed his own idiosyncrasies, and still had a streak of impulsivity that reared from time to time.
Marik turned up the volume, and even Bakura sat up straighter. The two men watched as the small “King-of-Games” appeared on screen stepping up to a podium on a duel stadium. This tournament was using a classic stadium, rather than Kaiba’s portable duel disk system.
Yugi waved to the crowd, and smiled. Then the cameras switched to his opponent, and they watched as a different person, a taller guy with black hair and a ball cap, stepped up to the opposite podium. He too, waved at the crowd. But he followed it up with a fist pump that awarded him a round of cheers.
Bakura flicked a card at the guy on the screen. It struck the man’s ball cap before bouncing onto the floor.
“Boo!” Marik voiced both their thoughts aloud.
The two Yamis resented their absence from the tournament. They had not been allowed to sign up due to a lack of identification. Kaiba promised that he was working on creating identification for them, as well as obtaining credible backstories and citizenship. They’d only been given their fleshy new bodies less than six months ago, and it had taken a lot of convincing from Yugi to persuade Kaiba to help Marik and Bakura.
Suffice to say Kaiba wasn’t exactly in a rush.
So here they were, at home—Yugi’s home, because he had been the only one willing to take them in—behaving themselves. Sort of.
Yugi’s apartment was a mess right now. The carpet blanketed in a layer of trading cards that Bakura had spent the last hour and a half throwing about.
The desk where Marik had been faired no better. It was covered in the empty cans of energy drinks, sodas, and the occasion alcohol. Marik had a tendency to stay up all night playing MMOs, and the lack of sleep only enhanced his usual crazy unkempt appearance, rather than detract from it. Amongst the cans were the various wrappers of plant protein bars and veggie chips; there were also a few cards here and there that had managed to find their way amongst the mess.
The tournament commenced after a handful of commercials and a few more interviews with the other contestants. It was mostly speculation of who they thought would win, and what strats might be employed from each player.
Bakura muttered his own commentary about Yugi’s strategies, and Marik grunted in agreement.
And then the duel was underway. Yugi was first to go, and played a face down card before ending his turn, and letting his opponent retaliate.
Ball-cap Boy, as the Yamis labeled him, lost his first summoned monster to Yugi’s trap hole.
“Kick his ass!” Screamed Marik. He was clutching the remote between his fingers like a demented gargoyle.
“Not a bad start,” Bakura remarked. “The field is wide open for Yugi to make a counter attack, and Ball-cap Boy only played one face down card.”
The turn passed back to Yugi. He drew a card.
“Yugi has cards to sweep the field of magic and traps,” Marik nodded at the screen, stating the obvious. It wasn’t necessarily for Bakura’s benefit, as they were simply voicing their own thoughts and observations.
Right on cue, Yugi used a Mystical Space Typhoon, and sent Ball-cap’s card to the graveyard. Then he used a Pot of Greed, drew two more cards, and played a Black Magic Ritual spell card. He sent two monsters from his hand, to the graveyard as tribute, and summoned Magician of Black Chaos right to the field.
This was followed by the activation of the field spell, Yami. Which cast the whole holographic playing field into a black and purple miasma. The change in field giving Yugi’s Spellcaster and Fiend type monsters a boost.
Which included Magician of Black Chaos.
Yugi struck his opponent with a savage blow to his life points, then ended his turn. His hand was empty of cards except for one. It was a vulnerable position to be in, but he did have a very powerful monster on the field.
“YAAS!” Marik bounced on the couch and howled at the TV.
“Babysitter had a very lucky hand to start with,” Bakura remarked. “This will hardly be a fair match.”
“Don’t care as long as Yugi fucks him up.”
Bakura nodded his agreement, and they both continued to watch the game unfold.
The duel didn’t conclude as one-sided as the Yamis first predicted. Ball-cap Boy managed to make a come back, and get rid of Yugi’s Magician with a spell card. After that, he had Yugi on the defensive for a bit.
But when the match finally concluded it was with Yugi’s decisive victory.
The cameras momentarily followed the loser as he slunk offstage, as well as a shower of trading cards and popcorn from Marik and Bakura.
When attention returned to Yugi, interviews and congratulations commenced. With his latest win, Yugi would be attending the semi-finals tomorrow, where he would face off against Malik Ishtar, Mai Valentine, and Weevil Underwood. They would draw names tomorrow to decide who would face off against whom.
The Yamis continued to watch the broadcast even after Yugi had excused himself from the cameras, and mysteriously disappeared. No one appeared to be able to locate him again for further interviews, and turned instead to interview various members of the crowd about today’s matches.
Twenty minutes later the apartment door flew open, and the spikey little “King-of-Games,” entered the apartment. He tossed his bag on the floor next to the shoe shelf.
“I’m home! Did you guys catch my duel?”
Bakura quickly snapped the television off and looked over the back of the couch.
“Of course not. I don’t watch bullshit.”
Marik fixed Bakura with a dark stare. Then turned and draped his large frame over the back of the couch to watch Yugi kick his shoes off.
“Oh.” Yugi’s face drooped a bit. “What were you guys watching?”
“The news.”
“My Little Pony.”
This time it was Bakura’s turn to fix Marik with a death glare. “We do NOT watch My Little Pony.”
“Keh, speak for yourself,” Marik muttered, “Discord is my kindred spirit.”
Yugi hung up his jacket and approached the two of them with an infectious smile. A smile different from his other ones, and one he only seemed to wear when he saw them. Whether it was coming home from a long day, or upon seeing them whenever they picked him up from university.
“Did you win?” Bakura inquired, folding his arms over the back of the couch.
Marik struck him with his unsocked foot, where Yugi couldn’t see. “Of course he won. Babysitter is the King.”
“I lost. Big time,” Yugi lamented. He dropped his eyes and kicked the carpet in shame. “Sano, will go on to the semi-finals tomorrow.”
Marik held out his arms, beckoning Yugi to come close for a sympathetic hug.
When he did, the Yami scooped him up instead and dragged Yugi over the back of the couch and onto the cushions between him and Bakura.
Yugi yelped in surprise.
Both Yamis drew over him like a couple of predators. It was akin to being flanked by a lion and lynx.
“Let us console you,” Bakura purred.
“We’ll ease the sting of loss,” Marik added. “Tell us how it happened.”
“You definitely should have won.”
“Especially the play with the graceful charity, and the discarding two dark magicians from your hand to boost the power of Dark Magician Girl. That was a wicked thing to do~”
“Marik! You absolute knob-head!”
“I knew it,” Yugi giggled, and a grin spread over his face from ear to ear. He stared up at the two Yamis. “You did watch my duel.”
One Yami was baring his teeth and scowling so hard that creases formed on his brow. The other was grinning with feral delight.
“I never wanted to play this game in the first place,” Marik defended. He turned his attention to their babysitter and picked up Yugi’s hand, placing a chaste kiss to the back of it. “You sacrificed your most precious monster cards so callously for power. How unlike you. We must be rubbing off on you.” he purred almost sensually.
It sent butterflies squirming in the young man’s stomach.
“Congrats of the victory, My Precious,” he hummed the words against pale skin before dragging his long tongue over Yugi’s hand and fingers. The endearing nickname was something he’d coined for Yugi after the three of them binged a Lord of the Rings marathon. Bakura refused to use it, preferring his own terms for Yugi. So this one was uniquely Marik’s.
“It was a good duel,” Bakura grumbled. He folded his arms over Yugi’s bent knees and rested his chin upon them.
Yugi couldn’t help but beam up at him even whilst Marik slipped one of Yugi’s fingers into his mouth. “I’m sorry I didn’t catch that over the sound of my hand being molested.”
“You kicked ass,” Bakura snarled louder, his cheeks suddenly flushing a deep pink. His eyes were staring at the floor off to the side though.
“Thanks.” Yugi knew the admission didn’t come lightly. Bakura was generally sparse with his compliments, and praise did not fall from his tongue lightly.
Marik was now biting Yugi’s fingers, but this didn’t bother him at all. Marik tended to be very bitey, and on numerous occasions Yugi had to get creative covering up various bruises ranging in spots from his neck to his calves.
He leaned his head back to meet Yami Marik’s lovely lavender colored eyes.
“I won my duel. So, do I get a victory kiss?”
A sinister grin pulled over Marik’s face, Yugi’s fingers still caught between his teeth. He released the thoroughly molested hand with one final lingering caress of his tongue and leant forward to place a kiss on Yugi’s cute mouth.
A pale hand intercepted, two fingers placed against Yugi’s lips before Marik could kiss him. “But I thought you lost?” Bakura sneered.
Yugi shot him a pouty look.
“We can pretend he won,” Marik tried to pry Bakura’s hand out of the way.
Bakura pushed against Marik’s forehead with his other hand. “We don’t reward losers.”
“Oh, just kiss me.” Yugi huffed, sounding a bit breathless in his demand.
“Babysitter ordered.”
“Well in that case...” Bakura pushed Yugi’s knees apart and crawled between them. He dipped his head under Marik’s nose and his mouth closed over the Game King’s. It was soft but aggressive, wasting no time coaxing Yugi to let him in, and then letting his tongue slip into the kiss.
Marik growled above them.
Bakura paid him no mind. Relishing the taste, lips moving, molding, and coaxing delightful noises from the male below them. He stole breath and sound like the thief he was, and swallowed them both. And his hand trailed over Yugi’s thigh, fingers raking over more sensitive areas until Yugi arched against him.
They broke apart for air, and Bakura watched Yugi pant, with a playful hunger in his half-lidded eyes.
Yugi blinked, and refocused just past him.
Marik’s mouth was twisted in a pout, and he looked very left out.
Yugi reached both hands up, and dragged the Egyptian down for an upside down kiss, that was more teeth than lips, but no less intense and heated.
Marik made a noise akin to a growl, but more hungry and throaty, and slipped his own hands under Yugi’s head to grasp fistfuls of his colorful spiked hair.
Both men continued to lath the little King-of-Games in attention. Occasionally squabbling with each other over possession of Yugi’s mouth. But both of them spoiling their little keeper with touches and affection.
If someone had asked Yugi six months ago if he would ever have two boyfriends—and both of them the former Yamis of his friends, Malik and Ryou—he would have laughed and called them insane. Six months ago he had still been mourning the loss of Atem. Moping about his departure for the afterlife, even though three years had already passed since the ceremonial duel.
Six months ago he had tentatively taken in the homeless, aimless, pitiable Yamis; whom the gods had saw fit to grant a second chance to redeem their souls. He had been the only one of their friend group willing to give these two the second chance he felt they deserved.
And for awhile they resented him with the same disdain they showed the rest of the world.
But Yugi never ceased being patient and kind, freely giving them his friendship. No strings attached.
They had come to accept it begrudgingly at first. And then coveted it selfishly.
Somewhere along the way friendship had morphed into affection, and feelings became complicated.
A strange relationship of hate, friendship, lust, and loyalty, that sometimes left Yugi feeling lost and drowning. He really liked them both, maybe more than he should. And they couldn’t seem to decide if they liked him, or hated him, but they certainly wanted him.
Things were now very complicated.
All this, compounded on the sinful things they were doing with their mouths, was enough to fray his nerves and light his skin ablaze with sensations and confusing emotions. It left Yugi extremely overwhelmed and dizzy.
He broke from all the attention to catch some much needed breath. Marik and Bakura backed off looking mischievous and starved, their eyes dragging over their little Babysitter like he was a juicy piece of meat.
“Why are there duel monsters cards all over the floor?” Yugi asked, finally taking in his surroundings and the state of his apartment.
“Because Bakura was huffy about staying home, and decided to fling his trading cards at everything,” Marik explained, sounding equal amounts amused and annoyed.
“Actually,” Bakura corrected. “They’re all Marik’s cards.”
Lavender eyes shot up.
“What?”
~0000~
So this was interesting to write. Sorry it took me so long. I had to agonize how I wanted to write this ship for the longest time. Pondered over their dynamic, and what circumstances would even bring them together. I hope this was satisfactory. I did a have a lot of fun writing this. Mayhaps you’ll have fun reading???
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dilly-oh · 4 years
Text
Sleep With Me
Kakashi is woken up from a dead sleep at three in the morning by an urgent text from Genma. 
EMERGENCY!!, it says. He quickly sits up, a spike of panic shocking him fully awake as he’s dosed with adrenaline. He stares at his phone, anxiously waiting for the flashing dots to spell out: WE NEED CONDOMS, STAT!
Fucking Genma. He lies back down. 
Another text. YOU OWE ME FOR WATCHING THE DOGS.
...Fucking Genma. Kakashi gets up.
GET A BOX OF CONDOMS, Genma adds as Kakashi tugs on his boots. He shudders at the reasoning behind it. What the hell were he and Raido up to at three in the fucking morning, a sex marathon? Were they trying for the world record? Whatever, he just needs to stumble down the street to one of the nearby convenience stores and buy a box of condoms. Genma lives a few floors down so he can drop them off at the door before crawling back up the stairs and collapsing into his bed. His wonderfully soft, cozy bed.
He hopes it’ll still be warm by the time he gets back. 
It’s way past midnight and all the respectable convenience stores are closed, so Kakashi has to bite the bullet and settle on the least-skuzzy of all the skuzzy 24-hour shops, the one on the corner with the cracked window and perpetual smell of urine. There’s a hobo by the dumpster outside, but he’s busy arguing with a pigeon so Kakashi is able to sidle around him and approach the front entrance, a bell tinkling rather sadly above his head. The hum of the fluorescent lights should be added to the list of known torture methods, and Kakashi does his best to ignore the incessant buzz as he walks along the poorly-lit aisles, trying to find the item in question so he can leave before he catches something.
The condom section of this store is disturbingly well-stocked, and Kakashi spends a good five minutes uncertain on which brand and variety to buy. He has an internal debate on whether to buy ‘ribbed’ or ‘studded’, unsure of the difference or which Raido would prefer. He finally settles on one of the flavored variety, cherry, because who doesn’t like cherries, right? He grabs the box and heads to the front.
Standing in line with the other half-awake zombies, Kakashi yawns, his jaw creaking spectacularly. It really is late and he’s looking forward to kicking down Genma’s door, whipping the box of condoms at him, turning his phone off, and going the fuck back to sleep. He peeks impatiently over the shoulder of the man in front of him to see how close he is to the register-
Oh. God. Oh GOD.
The cashier is hot. He’s smoking hot and Kakashi hasn’t brushed his hair all day and has bad breath and bags under his eyes and a box of condoms in his hands.
OH GOD.
Long, luscious hair pulled back into a low ponytail, dark eyes with even darker lashes, and that TAN. Is it natural? Is he that toasty…all over? Fuck, he can see muscles flexing beneath his shirt when he moves, he’s fucking ripped. Abort. ABORT. There is absolutely no way Kakashi is going to greet this ethereal being of his wicked fantasies with a box of fucking condoms in his hands. But it’s already too late, the customer in front has been dealt with and the hot cashier has spotted him next in line and is waving him over, fuck, SHIT, he’s screwed. He’s made eye contact, there’s no backing out of this now. Fight or flight instincts take over, and Kakashi isn’t about to be arrested for stealing a box of condoms. Taking a deep breath, he strides forward with all the confidence he can muster and slaps the box of jumbo-sized, cherry-flavored condoms onto the counter, refusing to show any hint of shame.
The cashier (his name-tag reads ‘Iruka’ and is a million times hotter up close) looks down at the box, blinks, and looks back up at him.
“…So who are you buying these for?”
Kakashi’s brain shorts out for a moment.
Did he just… He wonders, his sleep-deprived brain slow in catching the veiled insult. Aloud, he answers, “I…they…they’re…for me. To wear when I- you know. With...you know.” He trails off lamely, wondering if he should attempt to elaborate more or just die right here.
“I’d rather not, actually.” ‘Iruka’ eyes him for another beat, then picks up the box, frowning at it. “You know, I’m pretty sure we have extra small on the shelf back there, too,” he suggests. “Might be a snugger fit.”
“No, thank you,” Kakashi replies, struggling to maintain a modicum of politeness. Because, you know, hot cashier. Though he is being a bit of a dick.
“Alright, just remember there’s a thirty-day return policy. I’m sure you’ll be needing it.”
Okay, scratch that. He’s being a huge dick.
If this guy wasn’t such a fox I’d pop him one, Kakashi thinks to himself, fuming inwardly. …Instead of popping one-
Finally moving on, Iruka swipes the box over the scanner with no reaction.
“Huh.” He frowns and tries again. Still no beep. “That’s funny. Just a sec.” He leans over towards a small, black object-
Oh God. Please no.
“PRICE CHECK ON THE JUMBO-SIZED CONDOMS,” Iruka says into the microphone, his distorted voice blaring through the store for all to hear. “CHERRY FLAVORED-”
Kakashi lunges forward and grabs the mic, the feed cutting off with a high-pitched squeal.
“Do you really have to-” he hisses out.
“If you want your cough-syrup flavored DICK, YES,” Iruka hisses back, yanking the microphone away from him.
“Hey, I like cherry!”
“Cherry is disgusting. Your opinion doesn’t matter.”
“Okay, dude, you’re being really rude to me for no reason-”
“No reason?!” The cashier all but bares his teeth at him. “I could feel you eyeing me from across the store! Don’t you think I get enough of that from the rest of the creeps?”
...He has a point there. 
“Look, I’m sorry, it’s not like I asked for your number-”
“Good, because the only numbers you’re getting from me is on your receipt,” Iruka snaps, shoving his purchase in a plastic bag. “That’ll be $19.86.”
“Okay, fine, Christ,” Kakashi takes out a twenty and whips it at his head. “Keep the change.” He snatches up the condoms and storms out of the store. The hobo is still there by the dumpster, babbling on. Kakashi stops, fishes in his pocket for a moment, and hands the man a five.
“Here, have a better night than me,” he bites out. The hobo gasps with delight as he takes the crumpled bill, eyes going wide.
“We feast tonight, Fitzgerald!” he cackles, grinning at the pigeon, which is now perched on his knee and cooing.
Kakashi starts down the street, the bag of condoms bumping against his knee with every angry stride.
“Hey!” A voice barks out from behind him, but he ignores it, intent on sulking. “Hey, you! Cherry dick!” Kakashi stops and looks back.
The hot cashier is running down the road after him, breath steaming in the night. He catches up, panting lightly, his cheeks flushed from the cold as much as the run. He glances up to meet Kakashi’s gaze. 
“…Hey,” Iruka says quietly, flashing him an apologetic look before dropping his eyes to the ground. “Um.” He fiddles with the zipper on his jacket for a moment. “I just got off, and… look, man, I’m sorry about back there. I didn’t mean to be such an asshole. It’s just…I was late this morning cuz my car wouldn’t start, and then my stupid co-worker ditched me so I had to work a double shift, and when I’m tired I get bitchy. Like...real bitchy. I’m...really sorry.” He groans in exhaustion, reaching up to free his hair from its constricting ponytail, scrubbing his scalp with relief. It’s an endearing action that cools Kakashi’s irritation and heats up other things. “I mean, it’s past midnight, for God’s sake. Who’s still up at this hour? I just wanna go home and pass the fuck out in bed.”
Kakashi knows exactly what that’s like.
“I’ve been there,” he says. “It’s fine. Sorry for...ogling you.”
“S’okay.” Iruka looks up at him, hopeful and shy. “Listen. Maybe we could…try this again? During the daytime, when we’re both fully rested?”
“Sounds like a great idea,” Kakashi replies, his voice completely calm while his brain is a litany of high-pitched screeches.
“Yeah?” Iruka’s whole face lights up, and holy FUCK he’s a billion times hotter when he’s smiling. Dear God. How is he going to survive this? He'll probably die when he sees him in the light of day. “Are you free tomorrow? For lunch?”
“Make it a late lunch,” Kakashi agrees, nodding. “I’ll probably sleep in.”
“God, me too,” Iruka snorts, and even that’s hot. “There’s this nice cafe that- oh, wait.” His face drops. “Those, um, cough-syrup- I mean, cherry-flavored condoms…are they for… anyone special?”
Anyone special? What is he talking abo- Oh. Ohhhh.
“They aren’t for me,” Kakashi explains quickly. “I was...there isn’t…I’m not…” He shrugs helplessly. “I’m just doing a favor for a friend.”
“...A friend who needs a box of condoms at three in the morning?”
“Don’t ask.”
“I won’t.” Iruka lets out a long sigh and rubs his eyes wearily. “Anyway, I need to be heading home. Ugh, it’s gonna take, like, an hour to walk back to my apartment, none of the buses run this late and I don’t have the cash for a cab. Maybe if I hurry I can-”
“Sleep with me,” Kakashi blurts out before he can stop himself. He can almost see Iruka’s hackles go up. “I mean, like, actual sleeping, no sex stuff. Not that I wouldn’t want to do that with you, you’re fucking gorgeous, it’s just I’m way too tired-” He cuts off his babbling, unsettled by Iruka’s stoney silence. “I’m just saying I live, like, five minutes away and I thought since it’s closer, maybe you’d appreciate-” Iruka’s still not talking. He’s probably about to kick Kakashi in the dick and run. “I, uh, promise I’m not an ax murderer or anything. You can take a pic of me and send it to your friends to let them know you’re sleeping with me-”
“I’m sure they won’t at all take that the wrong way,” Iruka states, finally speaking. He studies Kakashi for a moment longer. “...Yeah okay I’ll sleep with you. My standards are low enough right now.” He pauses to snicker. “Look at me, sleeping with a guy whose name I don’t even know. It’s like college all over again.”
“Oh, sorry. I’m Kakashi.”
“Iruka.”
“I know, I saw your name-tag. So, wait. You’re not worried I’ll try something?” he asks cautiously. Iruka scoffs.
“I know jiu-jitsu. Touch me and I’ll throw you through a wall.” 
That would explain the muscles. And Kakashi’s desire to be pinned by him. 
“I have eight dogs,” he warns.
“They’ll make excellent feet-warmers,” Iruka says dismissively. “Do you have good pillows? I’m a stickler for good pillows, I need the support for my neck, otherwise I get stiff shoulders.”
“I have a couple memory foam ones, plus a down comforter and some quilts-”
“Oh God, yes, talk dirty to me.”
“Anyway, I get the bed, you can have the couch.”
“Screw you, I just worked a double shift. I get the bed.”
“It smells like wet dog.”
“I babysit a five-year old. I’ve smelled worse.”
“Okay, fine. We share the bed, but I get the right side.”
“That’s not fair, I want the right side.”
“You can have the right side if you cook us breakfast tomorrow. Or lunch, rather. I’m not getting up till noon.”
“I’ll cook, but you have to clean up. Deal?”
“Deal.”
They shake on it, firmly sealing the agreement, and head off down the road together.
They don’t let go.
(Written for @kakairu-fest Nine Weeks of Summer, Week Two Prompt: Shop AU)
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:) Don’t know why, but I had a half-baked idea of Raven in the kitchen in her underwear and it turned into this. Hope you enjoy!
Prompt List.
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The sun rays streamed in through a wispy sliver of cream-colored curtain. Damian blinked softly, drawing up his hand, peering through a gap in his fingers to shield still sleepy green eyes. He yawned, turning over onto a small impression in the sheets, the remnant left by a small figure he had been spooning. Damian fought off the start of a smile, thinking of their extended session last night. This one lasted almost three hours, before they collapsed into each other, overtaken by exhaustion, and fell asleep. But no matter her state of soreness, he could count on Raven to always wake before him.
Confirmation came in the form of a sharp kettle whistle carrying through the open loft. With a limber stretch to loosen up his languid muscles, he made his way to her.
In the kitchen, wearing his favorite work shirt, was Raven. Humming. Gliding. Her hips moving hypnotically to a beat known to her alone, she traipsed around the space. She shuffled along until, at last she located what she sought in a cabinet overhead. Pale feet arched up, reaching on tiptoes, in a way that could have been for show, but he knew it was because she was so petite.
All the same, Damian took immense pleasure in the view.
Raven shimmied, the single buttoned shirt shifted, revealing the brilliant blue of her underwear. And in her hand dangled the spoils of the search: a bag of dark roast.
Coffee?
She was making him coffee. For a habitual tea drinker, who couldn't operate most kitchen apparatuses on a good day - this was Raven practically cooking for him in her underwear.
Raven was making him coffee...
Pouring a bag of French roast, in french blue lace to fill a French press.
It was a shame to interrupt, but she melted the instant his arms slid around her waist from behind. "Damian."
"Good morning, habibti." His lips lingered on the nape of her neck. "Smells...wonderful."
Out of the corner of his eye, he spied her biting her lip. No doubt, at the sensation of his body pushing into hers. "You wouldn't say that if I hadn't changed my mind..." Raven said softly. "And decided to try my hand at French toast instead of French roast - like I had planned."
If he had walked in on her with an apron over her underwear... Spatula in hand.
"Perhaps..." He angled his face to hers. "But when..." He began, but stopped, when he saw her stiffen. "Or rather, if your experiment goes south, I can always smell you..." Damian breathed her in again, lips just brushing hers. "Lather you in syrup..." Catching her lip between his teeth. "Nibble on you..." His tongue darted out. "Savor you."
She let out a frustrated cry that brewed into a moan of anguish when the teasing touch withdrew. "Do that again and you'll have me reconsider..."
He held his hands up in surrender. "Alright, I won't." But his emerald eyes glinted with a promise of more soreness. "For now."
Raven inched over to the shelf on the wall adjacent to the sub zero fridge. Again, she lifted herself off the balls of her feet. Damian's vert eyes traced over the curve of her ass, an arc in scant, sheer fabric. With a pale hand overhead, she searched the hanging cups, before conjuring up two matte black mugs. "Will these do?"
Damian stopped. "Hmm..." He glanced at her and folded his arms. "But I think something is missing..."
Raven was pouring coffee into his mug, when she realized. She grumbled a curse under her breath. "I didn't pack properly for the weekend."
"I thought you might." He handed her a wrapped box and waited for her to open it. Raven's amethyst orbs slid over the contents, but didn't she speak."You forgot your tea infuser." From the moment he opened the drawer, Damian's eyes hadn't once left hers. "Well, didn't you?"
With the look that flashed in Raven's eyes it could have more easily been a diamond necklace or a pair of designer heels, rather than a ceramic tea infuser. But he couldn't think of anything that was as irrevocably Raven.
And Damian paused before he asked. "Did you remember the loose tea?" He bent down and opened another cupboard, where he removed a baroque patterned bag with a ribbon handle. "An infuser is useless without tea leaves."
"It was such a long week - I was looking forward to seeing you..." Raven rambled. "I really forgot..."
He lifted an eyebrow and began removing the tea tins one after another. "Jasmine and cloud... Rooibos... Chamomile... White tea." Damian listed them off. "The basics."
"Basics..." Raven repeated. The corner of her lip quivered, as if it couldn't decide whether to turn up or down.
"Some promotion was going on with the infusers... I had to get these..." Damian shrugged and dragged a hand through the perfectly mussed bedhead.
They both knew the high end tea shop on Fifth didn't do promotions, especially on their signature cloud tea.
Raven stared wide eyed at all the tins. "These are...all my favorites."
"Naturally."
Damian stared at her, finding himself barely containing a smirk for the second time.
But this was truly priceless.
That startled look on her face - not from trinkets but tea leaves.
"This is -" She stammered. "Damian... It's too much..."
Damian wouldn't hear it. "Raven, don't start - I'm not returning a thing." He said hotly. "You will drink your favorite tea in my apartment, so choose one." Damian lifted the mug and handed it to her. "That's an order."
If buying her tea would make her happy, he would do it. So long as she would allow him, he would do it. And so much more.
"Thank you - for this." She smiled shakily at the rooibos tin in her hand. "I promise, I won't forget these when I sleep over next time..."
"Next time?" Damian scoffed.
"Yes..." Raven blinked wide eyed again. "Shouldn't I...?"
He shook his head slowly. "There's no need, Raven. Or didn't you hear me?"
"No need... What do you mean?" Raven knew very well what he meant, after all, her nose was scrunched in the adorable way it did when she needed to think.
"This is yours - for here." He pointed to the drawer.
Raven took a breath. "You want me to keep an infuser and tea..." She repeated skeptically. "Here in your drawer - in your apartment?"
"I can't have you forgetting your things again," Damian stated simply. "Besides with all the time you spend here, it would certainly be easier, don't you think?"
"Yes, I..." She cleared her throat. "I suppose it would..."
"Great - you agree." He tapped his mug to hers. "So, it's settled."
By the softness in her stare, she had to know what it symbolized. That Damian didn't just care - he knew her - and wanted her in his space. For all the moments she wasn't, Damian wanted to think of her. He wanted to think of her when he opened his drawer to find a fork and saw that tea infuser. A mug of cold jasmine tea abandoned on his coffee table. A book sunning its pages on the window sill. Smelled her perfume on his shirts. Found a lavender hair, or three in his sink. He wanted her things in his space, he wanted her in his space. He wanted them to share space together.
And now Raven knew.
"I...think you almost always take your coffee black." She whispered after a time.
"How about... a little hint of something extra...?" Damian mused. "Today is special after all. You made it special..." Raven smiled. "The coffee, I mean."
Raven glanced at the marble counter. And held up a carton of cream between her fingertips. "Cream - then?" she asked. Damian encircled her body with his and the mug descended from his height above. She poured in a couple of drops unsteadily.
Damian placed a guiding hand over hers. "More, please." He mumbled.
Raven took the kettle from the trivet to fill her mug with hot water. While preparing her tea, Raven had managed to maneuver with a muscular arm around her waist and a chin on her head. Damian practically purred, he didn't know how he had enjoyed mornings in the slightest before her.
"Do you want to...drink these in bed?" Raven suggested.
As if he hadn't spent days waiting and dreaming of her wrapped around him. Tangled together, on their island - alone in bed. Only leaving it to order in. Slow Saturdays snuggled up with a scantily-clad Raven were heavenly.
"As long as you know you're not leaving it."
From the first time Damian looked over at her in his sheets, his shirt and a book in hand, he knew, this was everything he ever wanted.
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Raven padded over to the kitchen, after finishing off a mug of rooibos. She couldn't wait for another cup. A different flavor perhaps. "Which one should I pick this time?" She called back to the bedroom.
"Chamomile." Damian returned loudly.
Raven searched for the tin, she could have sworn it was on the counter. "Where is it?" she shouted.
"Coffee table."
Raven shuffled over to the living room and lifted it from the sleek wood. With a quiet pop, the tea tin unsealed.
Inside, atop the dried orange blossoms and yellow leaves, it laid.
Sparkling and silver, an engraved key.
Raven gasped.
"Did you find it?"
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