#found a tiny little box of them finally. stuck in the back of a shelf and half beat up
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nothing made me feel more masc than walking through the skincare section at target looking for those pimple bandaids I saw on tiktok and getting increasingly flustered and confused by the wide variety of shit that exists just to wash your face
#i jsur have neen using 'neutrogena oil free acne wash' my entire lige because its ehat my mom bought#i was seeing shit i couldnt even comprehend#found a tiny little box of them finally. stuck in the back of a shelf and half beat up#chatter#personal
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Rose Thorn Blues | pt. 5 (final)
Peter Parker x fem!reader
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Masterlist
Summary: Spider-Man saved everyone he could. But this time, you have to save him — and yourself.
Word count: ~10.4k
Warnings: Enemies to lovers!! (We're finally to the lovers part <3) Canon-level violence. Swearing, blood, injuries. Angst. Fluff and more fluff!! Love confessions!!! And smooching ;)
A/n: Today's my birthday, so here's a little birthday present to all of you :) Thank you all for your patience with this story. It's the longest one I've written, and I'm grateful for everyone that's read it. Your comments mean the world.
I'd be happy to write an epilogue or little snippets of their lives during or after this story if anyone would be interested. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy <3
Pain. Unrelenting pain settling deep into your body was the first thing you noticed. Your closed eyes squeezed shut harder as the back of your head pounded, a shaky exhale leaving your cracked lips. You could feel dried tears stuck along the planes of your cheeks.
When you tried moving your arms, you found you couldn’t — not with them bound behind you to the chair you sat in, and not with the deep ache stretching from your shoulders down to your wrists. The skin there felt rubbed nearly raw by rope holding them together. Even your chest and ankles were tied to the chair.
Despite the ache in your ribs, you forced yourself to take long, deep breaths. Each one shook through you. Blinking slowly, you let your blurry vision adjust. The bright fluorescents were now dimmer than before, only half of them on. You shivered slightly, goosebumps raising across your skin in the cool temperature of the warehouse.
Forms of people here and there began to come into focus in front of you. They seemed to be packing things into large boxes, the same wooden ones you’d seen before. And as you took in the tall windows and many shelves, you saw that you were in a shadowy corner of this godforsaken warehouse.
You could’ve screamed if your throat wasn’t so dry and your head wasn’t swimming. Your jaw ached as you clenched your teeth together over and over again. Panicked, uncontrolled thoughts flew through your hazy awareness. No matter how hard you tried to swallow them back, you couldn’t ignore the worry festering in your stomach — one uneasy idea decomposing into another.
Where was Peter?
A thin breath punched from your lungs as you remembered the hurt in his voice over the phone. He’d never allowed you to see him like that before, but still, you could picture his face twisting and the blood staining his suit dark. The image floated on the edges of your vision as you scanned the people moving throughout the warehouse.
Somehow, no guard stood watch over you. If what Will had said before about his horrible suit being missing, his workers must have been scouring the city — stretching his people thin and unable to be everywhere all at once.
With a possible window of opportunity open and beckoning you to take, you shifted your wrists, testing out the rope around them. Wiggling your arms made the binding a tiny bit looser. Each movement stretched them out but brought burning pain with it. It wouldn’t get you anywhere but tired and too hurt to function.
Like Peter, desperate and hurt. Who tried to keep you from walking into your demise… using secrets and lies. You clenched your teeth, hoping the pressure of it could shove away these half-feelings twisting and knotting around themselves.
So, you looked around, careful not to turn your head too abruptly in case any workers looked over. Though, even from afar, all of them looked terrified to do anything but hastily pack. Orders from Will himself, you were sure of it.
From the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of a jagged metal beam broken and sticking out from a beat-up shelf. It looked dull, but it came to a point. It’d have to do.
As silently as you could, you used your feet to inch the chair backward — timing each push with the sound of people shouting at one another or loudly loading up a crate. Your ears rang and your rapid heartbeat dulled your focus, distracting you with each intense spike of your nerves firing off.
Over several minutes, you positioned your bound hands to the piece of metal shelving and began to rub the rope across it. You paused at each lull, each possible moment that you might be caught. It gave you temporary relief from the strain pulling in your shoulders as you continued sawing away at the rope.
Sweat beaded across your skin as time passed — how long exactly, you weren’t sure. But eventually, the strands turned thinner. They felt as tight and ready to snap as your resolve. But when the rope loosened, becoming big enough for your hands to wiggle out, it instead filled your body with quenching relief.
The rope had barely pooled along the concrete floor before you began working on the binding stretching across your chest to hold your torso to the chair. It was tedious and forced your aching arms in horrible positions, but you pulled and pulled at the binding, squirming around to even gain an inch of room.
It kept catching on the bunched-up fabric of your clothes, but it moved. So, so slowly, it moved. It was an effort to keep your breaths silent when you wanted nothing more than to just shout for anyone to come help you. But Peter wasn’t here to help, so you sunk your teeth into your lip and kept quiet as the rope loosened.
Pushing your elbows out, you slipped the rope over your head. You allowed yourself only one unrestrained inhale before bending at the waist and working on the knot tying your ankles to the chair. Your fingers worked quickly, your eyes constantly trained on the workers as you moved. But the sight of that rope falling from your body made you blink away stinging tears.
Your best bet would likely be looking for a back exit and hoping you could sneak by anyone there — or fight your way out if it came to that. On unsteady legs, you raised yourself up, ignoring the wave of sharp pain pulsing at the back of your head and down your spine.
But before you could even take a step, get a real breath of freedom in your lungs, a sharp blade appeared at your neck.
“Going somewhere, sunshine?”
Within an instant, William Beaumont appeared next to you, and had he not held a tight grip to your upper arm, you might have collapsed. Though the blade pressed against you, your body instinctually writhed to get away from him. But even in the dim lighting, you saw the darkness that clung to him, the stillness in his eyes, the heavy weight he held. This wasn’t the Will you met before.
“Or Rose, is it?” he asked, his voice cold and calculated.
He pulled you forward and yanked your arms behind you. Your throat felt tight, your chest ready to rip open as you felt a zip tie tighten around your wrists — the plastic rubbing right where the rope had been just minutes ago. It had been too easy. Did he give you that hope on purpose? Just a lion toying with its food? A wretched feeling of fear shot through you at the thought.
Will shoved you back in the chair, a labored grunt shooting out of your lungs and a dizziness hitting you. Once he was sure you weren’t going to get up again, he took a step back, careful to keep the long blade pointed at your throat.
You dully registered a piece of wood rolling to your feet as Will aimlessly paced before you, kicking scattered debris. Sweat coated his skin, his hair damp against his forehead. For a minute, he just wordlessly walked back and forth, his eyes staring unfocused toward the ground. But you couldn’t look at his face for long, not with the sunken shadows settling into each curve of his expression. He almost looked sickly. Your gaze instead dropped to the handgun tucked into the back of his waistband; then you looked to the sharp piece of metal in his hand, recognizing it as one of the wrecked pieces from the Green Goblin’s glider.
When he paused, your breaths stopping too, he turned to stare at you. “Where’s my suit?” he asked, simply and without room for negotiation.
Despite the nearly deafening roaring of your heartbeat, you held his stare and willed your voice to come out steady. “Where’s your father?”
He raised an eyebrow at you, and you wondered how you hadn’t ever seen the similarities between those two before — the eerie air around them.
“Ellis is a bit busy at the moment. Why? Want to snoop around his mansion some more?” He tilted his head, pursing his lips just slightly. The look brought an anger next to your fear — anger and frustration that they could do good with what they had and keep their promises, but they were just adding more filth to the city.
He came closer then, squatting down so he was nearly eye level with you. You could barely stand to look at him this close, but you did your best not to flinch away. It was just another character you had to play.
Almost unnoticeable, you saw him wince in pain as he lowered. Watching him, you swallowed the fear trickling down your spine and asked, “Feeling sore?” At his unimpressed look, you merely squared your shoulders, raising your chin.
A breathy half-laugh escaped his lips. He stared down at his hand as he flexed it. “Jus’ some growing pains…” He shrugged. “ No change comes without a cost.”
“And is the cost worth all this?” you asked, your eyes motioning to the wreckage of the warehouse behind him.
“I’m just living up to the Beaumont family name. We’re cutting through endless miles of red tape with a snap of my fingers. I think you know the answer.”
“Your fingers?” you questioned. “Ellis is making you do all the dirty work?”
Will just rolled his eyes, his grip growing tighter on the blade. Letting out a sharp breath, he stood up, his body wavering just barely as he did so. Still, you went rigid as he towered over you. “Where’s the suit?”
You shook your head, trying to stay calm. But your resolve, this mask, pulled in all directions. “You said you wanted to educate people. What kind of change can be worth whatever you have planned? Worth a super suit and bodily experiments?” You remembered the way he’d bent the shelving’s metal like it was nothing.
“I prefer the term enhancements actually. Because they have made me better. Made it easier to ‘negotiate’ with clients. To educate the city on who really controls things around here.” He stared down at you, letting his words sink in.
Your tone rose, a tightness taking hold of your throat. “And who controls it? It’s certainly not you if your daddy’s bossing you around.” Despite the cold anger flaring behind his features, you continued. “Who says he won’t just keep you as his little lackey to do his bidding forever?”
His jaw twitched, his hand gripping the blade harder. You fought the terrified waves of nausea sitting in your stomach as he said, “Shut your mouth. You know nothing about the empire he’s planned for me.”
Your voice lowered with venom pooling around your tongue, one eyebrow raising. “Oh, and he’d never lie for his own personal gain, right? Even at the harm of others?”
“Where’s the suit?” he gritted out.
“I don’t know.”
You jolted backward as he slammed the metal blade against one of the shelves. The echoing clang of the hit made you curl into yourself, the blood draining from your heart.
His hand raised high, clenched above his head, before it slowly unfurled. He pressed his fingers into his temples. “I’m not in the fucking mood for this.” Punctuating each word with a step closer, he said, “Where. Is. The. Suit?”
A pulsing vein appeared along his neck, his breathing coming harder. Your hope of getting out of here dwindled with each second he got closer to losing it.
Trying to keep your voice calm, you said, “Will, I swear I don’t know.”
He charged toward you then, gripping your chin in his hand despite the yelp you let out. “You’ve come to this warehouse before. You’ve been in our house. You stole blueprints. And you think I’m going to believe you?”
You let out a shaky exhale, muscles twitching and screaming at you to get away from him. “I never broke in here. I wouldn’t be able to take all those boxes of the suit by myself, not without being seen. I don’t know where it is.”
His gaze considered you, roaming across your face like he was listing all the ways to torture the information from you. “Then you had help. Maybe that little ‘husband’ of yours knows — he might talk more than you when we find him.” He paused, his hold on you growing a little tighter, making you wince. “And that spider will talk when we string him up and force it out of him.”
Your expression dropped, your eyebrows tightening together. So they didn’t know Peter was Spider-Man, at least not yet. And if you could get out of here alone, it could stay that wa-
A flash of red flew past the windows near the warehouse’s ceiling. Any sense of calm, no matter how forced, dissipated into uncatchable smoke. No, he couldn’t be here. He couldn’t bring himself right into the waiting mouth of the beast that was hunting him. Silently, you pulled at the zip tie holding your wrists.
“Speaking of cutting through red tape…” Will muttered as a thud on top of the roof had his gaze shooting upward. Silence covered the entire building — all of the workers immediately stopped their movements.
You could barely slump forward when Will let go of your chin before he brought the blade back to your neck, his body standing behind you. His words echoed as he called out, “Come on out, Spider-Man! I promise we’ll let her go…”
Your eyes squeezed shut as the pain in the back of your head pounded harder, tears threatening to pool on your eyelashes. You whispered, “And then what? Where does this end, Will?”
A jagged smile was evident in his words. “Who says the fun ever has to end?” His hands forced your head to turn, your gaze pointed toward the warehouse entrance. “Isn’t that right, father?” Will asked loudly, calling to the man walking toward you both with a gun at the ready.
The sight dropped a deadening weight into your stomach. Ellis looked wild, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. His usual well-kempt look was forgotten, his suit ragged and hair free from its slicked-back style. More guards continued to enter the warehouse after him, and you couldn’t stop your entire body from shaking.
“Or maybe the fun’s just beginning,” Will said into the curve of your ear. It made you stretch to get away from him, but that only pushed your neck further into the blade — pain prickling along your skin.
You revolted against the dread, the horrific realization, that you may watch Peter die here — while he was trying to save you. It took everything in you to not let it incapacitate your ability to think or even function.
Ellis directed the guards this way and that. You watched with unfocused attention as he followed the large group up toward the roof. Normally, you would say he was sending them to their demise with Spider-Man up there. But an injured, desperate Spider-Man? That struck icy fear into your veins.
And you’d never known Spider-Man to have a noisy approach — careless enough to make noise and draw the enemy’s attention to himself. He’d have to play it smart, which became evident a few minutes later when Will yelled to one of his guards… and got no response. Peter was picking them off one by one in here while they searched for him outside.
Will’s free hand gripped tightly to your shoulder, his body continuously moving in small twitches. You could feel how on edge he was, and you wondered just how dangerous this family could be. Full power over the city, and all they needed now was to remove the one man stopping them.
You fought to keep your breathing even, your mind clear, so you could stay calm. And it worked to ground you just as a web shot from the sky. At blinding speed, it hit Will’s arm, sending the blade flying away from you. It clattered across the floor, the sound the sweetest thing you’d ever heard. Before he could fully realize what had happened, you lifted your foot and brought it down against his knee using every bit of strength you had.
By the time he’d crumpled to the floor, you’d run the other way. His scream froze your heart, but you knew he wouldn’t be down long with whatever experiments were coursing through him. Weaving between shelves with your hands still bound behind you, you tried to find somewhere safe — maybe the back entrance you’d planned to go to before.
But there were sure to be more guards outside now, and you couldn’t get far with your hands tied together. Your steps slowed, trying to become silent as you looked around for something sharp. Among the debris were ammo, rope, chemicals… but nothing to cut the zip tie.
Will’s words sounded far enough away, but that didn’t stop your head from whipping in his direction as he yelled, “You’ll fucking regret that!” Without so much as a breath, you took small steps backward away from the threat.
You only got a few feet when a gloved hand wrapped around your mouth. Before you could even scream, you were lifted into the air. The warehouse passed in a blur, but relief broke through as you felt summer night air hit your skin — as you recognized the sounds of the man swinging you both a few blocks away.
The two of you landed in a different alley, this one empty and finally safe. A second later, you felt the snap of the zip tie, and your wrists came free.
“Thought you might need a han-”
He only spoke those few words before you turned around to lunge into his arms. A quiet grunt shot out of him as you hugged him until your arms shook. You sniffled back tears budding up, your fingers clenching tight onto his suit. You breathed in him.
“Peter,” you whispered against him.
“Uh… I’m not sure who that is. The name’s Spide-”
“Shut up,” you interrupted, shaking your head as you pressed in closer to him. You could have sobbed when his arms wrapped around you too. To have him here, real, and breathing felt like the aching quiet after waking up from an unending nightmare, like the first rays of morning sunlight peeking above the horizon.
But the memory of when the two of you last spoke washed over your senses in an unrelenting tidal wave. You pulled back, your hold on him tightening as you looked at him. Your breath fizzed away like bubbling remnants of the crashed wave.
Blood splattered across his suit, broken up by dirt and rips along his body. His chest rapidly rose and fell, tired in a way you’d never seen the superhero. He’d pulled his arms from you— one of his hands rested against the building, using it to hold his weight. His other hand wrapped around his left side where blood-coated webs held together what looked to be a bullet wound. But what stole the breath from your lungs, what grabbed you and forced you to come to terms with all that’d happened, was his face.
A jagged tear in his mask stretched from his cheek to his forehead, leaving one of his bloodshot eyes exposed. The skin around it looked marred with cuts and aching bruises. At the top of the rip, pieces of his shaggy hair stuck to his forehead. He was barely recognizable. Your bottom lip trembled, no matter how hard you tried to stop it. But before you could open your mouth, Peter brought you back in against him, hugging you tight. He whispered, “Thank God you’re okay.”
Pressing your hands against his chest, you created a little bit of space despite how your body protested. “Peter… are you okay?”
His exposed eye traced across your face, the soft brown looking paler than usual. “I’m fine. I got the suit out — and hidden. That’s what matters.”
You gave him an exhausted look because that was not all that mattered, not as he stood there looking like that, but you didn’t argue further. He was here. And stubborn.
So you just allowed yourself to do what you hadn’t done before the fundraiser. Raising your hand, you paused for a brief moment before gingerly fixing his hair. You tucked the strands back under the mask before swiping a thumb across his forehead.
His hand came up to grab your wrist, lowering it from his hair but not letting go of you.
“How are you doing?” he asked. His fingers were gentle against the marks on your wrist.
You blinked against the throbbing in your head but nodded, breathing out, “Uh… yeah. I’ll be okay.”
And too many other things to say passed your mind, some you wanted to tell him and others you couldn’t. With a hoarse voice and downcast eyes, you settled on, “You came.”
You hoped he heard all you meant underneath those two words.
And you didn’t have time to register his answer — “of course” — as he moved his grip from your wrist down to your hand. He squeezed once then let it return to your side.
“Okay, I need to head back,” he said, raising his arm to shoot a web back in the direction of the warehouse, “please head to the hospital, and stay safe. I’d bring you there myself, but–” He gestured to his injured side, his face wincing in pain.
Instantly, your face twisted, a dizziness coming over you as any relief you had shattered to the ground. “You’re not going back in there. Not like this,” you nearly pleaded, your words coming out faster. “You’ve done enough. Call- call the police, and let them handle it.”
He shook his head. “I already called them. But with Will’s powers, it’ll be a massacre. I’ve got to go.” He said it with such certainty, with no room for argument. He tried to step past you, his gaze stoically not meeting yours.
“Then I’m coming too.” You stepped to the side with him. You hurriedly explained, “Something’s not right with Will, like his body is struggling with whatever’s coursing through him. So I think if we-”
“What? No. I mean, yes,” he told you. “Will is using DNA from supervillians, and I think his body’s rejecting it. But no, you’re not coming with me.”
“Could we somehow increase his symptoms then, or speed them up?” Your palms came up to rest against his chest. His heartbeat pounded rapidly beneath your touch.
“I mean, probably. If we incubated it with heat or lights maybe, but…” He cocked his head. “Stop talking like we’re doing this together. We’re not.”
Turning your chin up at him, you argued, “Well the plan where you get yourself killed sucks.”
“Well I happen to like the plan where you get killed a lot less, so you’re staying,” he said, raising an arm to shoot out a web again. He held stern, but you heard the exhaustion coating his words, how tired he really was.
Spider-Man always had a plan, Peter always knew what to do. And now it seemed his only plan was to stop Will at all costs — even at the cost of his own life. You shoved away the emotion that thought brought bubbling up your throat.
You clenched your hands into fists, refusing to let him go so easily. “Peter, you’re not leaving me in the dark anymore. The secrets and hiding have to stop here.”
You watched his eyebrow sink into a frown, his voice becoming more serious than you’d ever heard. “Secrets and hiding? Yeah, I have to keep my identity hidden, but don’t you get why I did all of this?” He asked as if it was the most obvious question. His hands gestured out to the side as he took a step back — your own hands falling away from him.
He turned his head away from you, and you could only watch his jaw clench and unclench with each passing second. The silence rang in your ears, until he breathed out, “It was to keep you safe. ‘Cause all this? It does no good if… if you’re gone.”
You held your breath, feeling your heart beating wildly throughout you. Heat crawled up your body at his words. Quietly, you asked, “What does me being gone have to do with stopping Beaumont?”
Shaking his head, Peter breathed out the ghost of a laugh. In an instant, he stepped so closely that it nearly gave you whiplash. Slowly, the tips of his fingers slipped under his mask to pull it above his mouth. He shifted even closer, his lips merely an inch from yours as his hands cupped your jaw. His body overtook all of your senses. He whispered, “Christ, are you this dense on purpose?”
With that, his lips pressed against yours, your eyes fluttering shut on instinct. At first, you didn’t move at all — afraid that it would break whatever moment you somehow found yourself in. Thoughts and emotions yelled for your attention, for you to analyze what was happening, but none were quite as loud as the feeling of his body melding against yours. That familiar warmth of him enveloped you, and all you could do was melt with him.
It wasn’t like the hurried kissing at the fundraiser, all teeth and tongue and newness. This almost felt familiar, as if you could come home to this every day. Your hands snaked up, holding onto his shoulders as he dulled your senses into a fuzziness. You felt your mind nearly go blank — but not completely.
With waning will power, you pulled away, trying not to relish in the soft noise that escaped his throat as you did so. You both caught your breath — the yearning exhales mingling in the small space between you. And with the way his hands still held onto you, now dropped down along your body to find a home on your hips, you knew there was no way he’d let you go with him.
“I… you, uh, need to get back” you began with a long, heavy breath. Swiping your tongue across your bottom lip, you took a resistant step backward. He kept one hand on yours as you moved. “Just, Peter, please be safe.”
He slowly nodded, and you watched every movement as he grabbed his mask and brought it back down. His thumb rubbed along your skin. “Yeah, yeah. Of course. And after…”
“After?” you asked, smiling at him.
“Yeah,” he breathed. “After. Let me take you out.”
“After,” you promised. You swallowed, wrapping a hand around his forearm and squeezing once. But before he could move away, you said, “Wait! Do you have anything I could use? To defend myself, I mean. I’d just feel safer — in case I happen to run into their guards on my way to the hospital.” You offered a closed mouth smile, one that told him not to worry too much about you.
“Uh, yeah…” he said, patting along his suit and up to his wrists. Removing part of his left webshooter, he set a small metal piece into your palm. You thought it looked almost like a flash drive as he curved your fingers over it.
“It’s not ideal, but it’s the best I have right now. It helps control my electric webs, so you can use this part as a sort of taser if someone comes at you,” he explained, waiting until you nodded before pulling you into a hug. It crushed your body, feeling like a hug you’d give someone you might not see for a long time. Or ever again.
So, you whispered, “Good luck,” and watched as he stepped away and swung away slowly. One of his hands still held tight to his side.
You waited there for a minute, bringing a thumb up to your lips. You felt how they still tingled and how they curved into a smile. But as soon as you were sure Peter had made it back to the warehouse already, you began making your way there with quick steps.
Maybe you were in over your head. Peter would probably call you stupid or reckless. But if he couldn’t handle if something happened to you, then he’d have to understand why you weren’t leaving him to go in there alone.
So you found yourself marching back to the place you never hoped to return to. Intense pounding went through your head with each step. Your palm felt slick with sweat, but you held tight onto the makeshift taser until your knuckles began to ache.
You were glad the warehouse was so secluded — hopefully no passerbyers would get caught in the fray. Or hear the commotion coming from inside. The muffled noise came from the far side of the building, near the front, so you hugged the opposite side of the alley as you made your way to the back. You guessed that they all concentrated on where Peter must have made an appearance, which only left one guard standing at the door.
Eyes flicking to the ground, you caught a glimpse of rock sitting in the cracks of the alleyway. Silently picking it up and pressing yourself into the shadows, you took a steadying breath that did little to calm your nerves in the midst of this insane idea. Still, your shaky arm reeled back to throw the rock up and over the guard, making it land on the other side of him.
As soon as he turned away from you, gun trained on the strange noise, you stepped from the dark and crept toward him. You gave yourself no time to second guess yourself before coming up behind him. Your internal monologue repeated, Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god as you raised the taser.
But as you went to press the taser into the guard, he turned back around in shock — throwing his elbow into your cheek in the process. A silent groan sat in your throat as your mouth hung open, a loud ringing going through your head. Pain bloomed outward from your face, and it took a moment to push past your swimming vision. Using all your strength, you lunged at him again and shoved the taser into the flesh of his neck.
In an instant, his body began convulsing. You did your best to try and let his weight down gently, but he just slid to the ground alongside you, unconscious and still twitching. Pushing him off, you sat on your knees and tried to catch your breath. You let the pain slowly dull with each passing second.
As you sat there, a glimpse of white against his dark uniform caught your eye — an ID badge hanging off his hip. It worked perfectly against the card reader at the back door, unlocking with a soft click for you to slip through. And there you were again, stood in the mouth of the beast once again.
In the back hallway away from the open floor, you could hear crashing and yelling coming from across the building. You only made it a few feet before footsteps sounded from the end of the hallway. Deep voices echoed off the concrete walls, each word louder than the next. You didn’t move or breathe until eventually, finally, they began to grow quieter.
From where you stood, heart still in your throat, you could tell the warehouse lights were still dimmed. So you searched along the walls, ears always listening for anyone coming back. You opened up the door after finding a circuit breaker, tracing a finger down the length of it. None of the switches were labeled, so after a moment of consideration, you flipped them all on — washing the building in bright fluorescents.
And just a few feet down the hall sat the thermostat. It was set to 65 degrees, but your hand quickly turned the dial up to the 89 degree mark. Within a few seconds, you heard the heater turn on and rumble through the vents.
You nodded, hopeful that this could begin weakening Will enough for Peter to take him out. While bleeding and injured. While dozens of guards also tried to kill him. How could you let him come back here? How could he come back here and make you come back here to help his ass?
You began to turn around to go find him when a heavy hand landed on your shoulder.
“Freeze-”
A gasp caught in your throat as you whipped around out of instinct and fear, immediately shoving the makeshift taser at the woman. It connected with the bottom of her jaw. With wide eyes, you watched as her body shook and fell to the ground just like the other guard. Your hand came up to cover your mouth while you stared. You didn’t think you would ever get used to that.
Slowly, you backed away down the hall. You did manage to grab her gun and hide it on a shelf when you made your way out there — rather than take it and risk shooting yourself or Peter, even if he did have superpowers.
Superpowers that you almost began to resent as you stepped into the open area of the warehouse — and the man himself immediately dropped down in front of you. You placed your hand over your mouth and swallowed the yelp that threatened to escape. Instead, you watched Peter as he guided the both of you behind a shelf.
His chest rose and fell much too quickly, his stance wavering and unsteady. Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to affect his attitude though, as he came closer and angrily whispered, “What the hell are you doing here? I can’t believe you did this.”
You gave him a soft, disbelieving look, a closed-lipped smile on your face. “Yes, you can.”
He brought his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose. A long sigh left his mouth. “Alright,” he said, “I can believe it. But you need to leave now.” He tried weakly pushing you toward the back door again.
You didn’t budge. “Oh, okay. Yeah, now that I’ve snuck in to help — by electrocuting two guards into unconsciousness, by the way — I’ll just go on my merry way,” you whispered back, twisting your face into a mocking expression. “How about you shut up and just let me help?”
“That’s why you asked for the weapon?” He quietly groaned before looking at you again, his head cocking. “Two guards? That’s not bad.”
“Thank you. Now, I’ve turned up the heat and lights. So let’s go.”
For a moment, he considered you. His eye covered by the mask looked expressionless, distant. But his exposed eye made you pause — his gaze feeling resigned, desperate in a way that made your heart twist. You didn’t want to imagine the other compromises or sacrifices Spider-Man has had to make over the years. And you didn’t have time to. So you swallowed those thoughts and simply grabbed his hand, entwining your fingers with his to pull him farther into the warehouse.
As you slowly moved down the aisles, you whispered, “Give me one of your web shooters.”
You already knew his answer from the blank stare he shot sideways at you. “I’m not giving you one of my web shooters. I need them.” Part of his words told you he really did need them to get you both through this. The other part said he didn’t trust you to not accidentally shoot him with his own webs.
“Well don’t you have an extra one or something?” you shot back.
“Do you see this suit? Where could I even keep an extra web shooter on me?” he quietly asked, his free hand raising outstretched and exasperated.
You let your eyes trail across the suit per his suggestion — until Peter said, “Okay, that’s enough ogling.” And even for the briefest of moments, it felt good to smile with him.
But at another crash several aisles down, he stiffened. You felt his rapid heartbeat pulse against your skin as he held up a hand. “I’ll be right back,” he promised.
You tried to squeeze his hand, to give him some sort of mention to be careful or to not get himself killed out there, but his fingers slipped through yours as he instantly swung away. Your palm radiated leftover warmth as you hid, thinking through the plan. Hopefully, the two of you wouldn’t have to wait long for Will to show symptoms, which would just leave many guards and Ellis. Peter seemed confident that they couldn’t fight their way out of this.
But under the commotion of guards around the warehouse, yelling and fighting coming from seemingly everywhere, you didn’t hear the heavy footsteps until they were too close. Whipping around, you saw Ellis appear at the end of the aisle, his chest rising and falling in heavy breaths. He raised his gun, aiming it right at you as he said, “Found you now.” His voice sounded colder, void of any of the charm he had when speaking to the public.
Instinctively, you backed away from him — from the man that made cold dread creep through your body and steal the breath from your lungs — but your steps stuttered when a web came from the ceiling and yanked the gun from Ellis’ grip. It flew upward, but you didn’t wait to see Ellis’ reaction before silently thanking Peter and sprinting the other way.
Only to be met with Will standing on the other side of the long aisle.
His twisted smile and disheveled hair falling into his face fueled the icy weight dropping into your gut. His bloody fingers tightened around the end of the blade he held in one hand. The other gripped a pistol.
You turned to look back at Ellis to see him fighting against more webs. As Will approached with heavy steps, his arm shaking as he aimed his gun at you, you forced your body to move.
Without thinking, you ducked and crawled past boxes sitting on the large shelf and emerged into the next aisle. You couldn’t think about the thudding sounds of bullets hitting metal around you.
You knew he’d be on you soon, his mutated powers making him too powerful. So you crawled across to the next aisle, pushing aside scattered equipment before throwing yourself through that shelf too. You went through a few more aisles and shelves to create at least a little distance. In the last shelf you passed, you hid yourself between the boxes. You stilled just a second before you heard him enter the aisle.
Clamping a hand over your mouth, you squeezed your eyes shut as his footsteps grew louder with each passing second. Your other hand began to ache from gripping the taser between your fingers.
“Run all you like. It won’t change how this all ends,” Will seethed, his voice becoming closer to you. A raggedness filled his words, and you hoped that meant the plan was working.
Still, Peter’s name repeated over and over in your mind, a silent prayer for him to come help. But you could hear more guards approaching, each one feeling like an extra shovel digging your graves.
The guards seemed to be coming to find the commotion, but from the sounds, it seemed like Peter was holding them off. You could only imagine the exhaustion and pain riddling his body as he never stopped fighting.
And you hoped he wouldn’t stop as a shaking, powerful hand wrapped itself around your arm and yanked you from the shelf. No sound could escape your mouth — every inch of it went dry in the face of Will’s bloodshot eyes.
One hand reached to claw at his grip while the other brought the taser up to his neck. But he knocked it away before sending you flying from the aisles into the open space. You heard a growl rip from his throat before it disappeared under the ringing in your ears, a breathless groan dribbling from your agape lips, as you fell against the concrete.
In between slow blinking and painful winces, you caught sight of Peter coming down and fighting against Will. Even with the sweat starting to bead along your skin, the extra heat and lights weren’t enough yet to weaken him. You saw how fast his punches were, how slow Peter was to dodge them.
Your arms trembled as you pushed yourself onto one elbow. Gritting your teeth, you ignored the ache throbbing behind your eyes. You began to stand up again only for a blow to knock you back down and sliding across the floor.
“God, I’ve just had fucking enough of you. Stay down for once, sweetheart. Okay?”
Past watery vision, you raised your head to see a bloody Ellis pointing a gun down at you. You held your breath, not daring to move as nausea and fear turned to sludge in your stomach. His knuckles look torn and raw, his suit ripped along his shoulders and arms. One hand of his ran through his hair, leaving a smear of blood along his hairline.
Just as you were to silently call for Peter again or to close your eyes and wait for this all to be over, a strangled groan echoed throughout the warehouse. A second later, Peter’s ragged body flew from the shelves and hit the ground, sliding until he slammed into the building’s wall. A cry escaped your mouth at seeing his limp form, and you only breathed again once you saw him beneath the debris and dust. Blood dribbled from his shoulder. More rips spread along his suit. But weakly, slowly, you could see his chest continue to rise and fall.
Before you could try to crawl over to him, Will emerged from the aisles — his smile victorious even as his muscles shook. From where you lay, you couldn’t see any more guards. Peter must have gotten them all. Now you just needed a little more time.
“His current state is going to make it harder to get answers out of him, William,” Ellis said. He stretched his neck side to side as he continued to train his gun directly at your heart.
Will let out a breathy laugh as he made his way closer. “I was just having some fun testing out my powers.” He flexed his hands in front of him, his heartbeat visible in the raised veins just beneath his skin. “Besides, I’m sure there are ways to get him to talk…”
His gaze rose to connect with yours.
He dropped the end of his blade to the ground, letting it drag against the concrete with each step. The slicing sound may as well have been the blade itself running along your throat.
You began to shuffle backward, needing to get as far away from him and his torture plan as possible. Your teeth dug so far into your cheek that you began to taste blood. Fresh tears pooled along your eyes as you called out, “When were you going to tell him, Ellis?”
Still several feet away, Will paused for a moment, the blade hanging looser from his grasp. His eyes flicked to his father’s.
Ellis' shout echoed across the building, making you flinch. “What are you doing? Grab her. We need to leave.”
You didn’t let either of them think before blurting out, “When were you going to tell your son that his body’s rejecting the DNA? That they’re going to kill him?”
Ellis nearly growled out his next words as he stalked closer. “Shut. Up. You don’t know anything, you worthless girl.”
You scrambled back farther, your hands searching for anything along the ground. Your fingers grasped a broken shard of glass, bringing it in front of your body. It looked so miniscule, so useless, trembling before him.
“Is that true?”
Will’s words broke through, and for a brief moment, you recognized him again — he was the man you danced with. Only this time, he looked empty.
The question made Ellis stop this time, his eyes squeezing shut for a second.
“Father?”
You saw how Will’s skin looked red and blotchy, how his breathing became harder with each passing second. He knew something was wrong.
“Tell him, Ellis. Tell him why he’s becoming weaker by the minute.” You tried to keep your voice steady, and though it wavered and scratched, it still struck the tense thread holding them together.
For too long, no one spoke. You fought to not look away from Ellis’ stare that pierced through you. Every breath, every tiny move he made, you watched him from behind the broken glass.
Will pleaded, shouting,“Dad!”
Finally, Ellis broke from the trance and dropped the gun just slightly, turning toward Will. You took the brief moment to glance to Peter. In… out. In… out. He was here. He was okay. He would be okay.
You turned back when Ellis let out a resigned sigh, refusing to fully meet his son’s gaze. “We are working on a cure… a treatment to stabilize your body’s reactions. There was no use in worrying you before we found it.”
“Except that tiring his body worsens it — it kills him faster,” you gritted past split lips, despite flinching when Ellis aimed the gun at you again.
“Shut the hell up!” he yelled, gripping the gun’s handle until his knuckles turned white. You raised your chin higher.
“Is she right?” Will asked.
“I…” Ellis began, groaning and dropping the gun to his side. He reached his other hand toward Will, turning toward him completely. “It’s…” And for once, you heard Ellis Beaumont have nothing to say — no lies to spew. Still, he approached Will, trying to embrace him.
But Will backed away, his tripping over one another. “You did this to me,” he whispered, almost in awe. Then, his voice rose with each word until he was shouting. “You used me as some lap dog and knew that it was destroying me from the inside out?”
Ellis approached again. “Son–”
“No! Get the hell off me,” Will screamed, pressing his hands into his father’s chest and shoving with all his strength.
Ellis stumbled, and you relished in the way his mouth opened and shut without saying anything.
“No. Don’t say another goddamn thing. No more telling me what to do like I’m a child,” he paused, his jaw clenching. His irises seemed to glow a sickly green, his voice becoming deep and alien. “Like I’m just some tool to get you your money.”
What lit the awaiting wick, though, was Ellis — in all his confidence and cowardice for his own safety — raised his gun at his son. You swore you saw the instant Will lost all semblance of control.
His body surged forward, tackling his father to the ground. Ellis yelled out, but it cut short when he hit the concrete. Any noise he made disappeared under the sound of Will’s fist hitting his dad. An animalistic growl rang out, and for a moment, you sat entranced, watching the pain pass across both of their faces as they battled.
You stared at the tears flying from Will’s eyes until your arm could no longer hold up the shard of glass. Its sharp edges pressed into your skin, but as they continued fighting, you dropped it to crawl toward Peter’s body.
Your eyes stayed on the two men while you passed over debris and the occasional webbed-up guard. You pushed away the wreckage despite the aching fire licking across every part of your body. Glimpses of red peaked through as you uncovered Peter. Immediately, you felt his chest for a pulse, for his ragged-but-stable breaths. A gasp escaped your mouth as you felt it dimly beating. You then moved to put pressure on the bullet wound on his side.
The pained groan he let out choked your heart. On the tip of your tongue, his name stood begging to leap off the edge and surround his body until he was okay again.
Instead, with darting eyes and trembling lips, you whispered, “Spidey.”
When he didn’t respond, you took hold of his arms and shook him slightly. Tears dripped down your cheeks, your voice becoming more desperate. “C’mon. We have to go. You have to get out of here.” You pushed his exposed hair back under his mask again. He barely stirred.
“Please,” you cried out, pulling on him, prepared to try and drag him out of there. “You can’t ditch me, asshole. I’m not doing this alone.”
Beneath the yelling of Ellis’ pleading and Will’s incessant punches, you heard Peter murmur something. You didn’t dare breathe, only whispering for him to repeat.
“You’re… an… asshole,” Peter grumbled, his face twisting as he opened his eyes. His head lolled to the side, a dry swallow passing down his throat. If he wasn’t in so much pain, you might’ve thought about hitting him for that. Instead, a splitting smile overtook your face.
But you didn’t have time to stop when Peter’s hands tensed around you. He moved just slightly to look toward the Beaumonts, prompting you to whip your head in their direction again.
You looked just in time to see Will wavering above Ellis, his eyes blinking slower and slower. A second later, he slumped forward and off of Ellis’ body onto the ground. Will appeared to be breathing still, but he was weak.
Any momentary relief you felt vanished as Ellis sat up, that wild look back on his face. Your hold on Peter tightened, your body thrown back into desperate fear. Ellis reached a few feet out to grab the blade Will had before training his eyes on you — like a predator locked onto its prey.
“You little-”
Grabbing Peter’s nearly limp arm, you repeatedly pressed down on his web shooter’s trigger before Ellis could finish his sentence. Webs flew out and encompassed the man, wrapping him and sticking him to the floor.
“Thank you,” Peter muttered. “He was giving me a headache.”
You were sure it was the multiple head injuries doing that, but you appreciated the humor while your heart rate returned to normal.
“C’mon. We’re leaving,” you urged him. With all of your strength, you did your best to support Peter’s weight as he slowly stood and staggered onto you. You could hear the groans he continued to bite back.
You held onto him tight, keeping him balanced. “Okay, do you have your phone on you?”
“Yeah…”
You waited for him to fish it out from a slim pocket. Using your free hand, you took several pictures of the Beaamonts lying there and the ruined warehouse. Your investigative heart wanted to take a hundred images from every angle, but your rational mind told you to leave. It took all your effort to move on. Trying to ignore the dizziness in the corners of your vision, you wrapped an arm around Peter’s side and walked to the back of the warehouse.
You both passed through the back door, out over the threshold of that place — finally out into the night for good. He’d be okay.
Along the warehouse’s high windows, flashes of police lights reflected down onto Peter’s face. He gritted his teeth and raised his arm to the skyline, staring into your eyes. “Ready, sunshine?”
You let yourself be pulled in closer to his side, blinking away the stinging tears.
And from this angle, with cascading cherry and violet lights raining down onto Peter’s profile, you found that you didn’t mind red and blue so much anymore.
Nodding, you slowly drew your eyes to his. “Ready.”
—
Your words spilled through gritted teeth, your jaw clenched tight. “I hate you so much, Peter.”
Your palms were sweaty as you forced yourself to stay focused despite that rage building in your chest. It continued up your body, crawling along your throat.
“Really? After all I’ve done for you?” Peter asked, his tone incredulous. You could feel the waves of heat rolling off of him.
Your expression sinking into a frown, you muttered, “It’s only fitting, considering that you lie and hide secrets.”
“Oh come on…” He scoffed, holding up a hand. “That’s low. And if you think about it, it was really only one secret!”
“That you lied about multiple times!”
He sat back next to you against the couch cushions, the weight of him drawing you closer. “You’re just a sore loser, and you’re angry that I whooped your ass in Mario Kart. Again,” he said, and you finally turned your gaze from the screen to look at him.
Light streamed in through his apartment’s window, the afternoon sun dancing across his face. His eyes turned to a soft caramel under its attention. His hair was undone, feathering along his forehead. Slowly, he grew closer, raising one eyebrow as if daring you to tell him he’s wrong.
Crossing your arms, determined not to be affected by his stare, you told him, “I literally beat you in the last game.”
He rolled his eyes. “Cause you cheated!”
“Look who’s the sore loser now,” you laughed out, your mouth turning into a gentle smile.
The two of you were face to face on the couch, breaths mixing together. A moment of silence passed, Peter’s softening eyes roaming across you. His thumb reached over to brush along the outside of your thigh. “You’re lucky you’re adorable.”
You didn’t try to fight your wide grin or the heat rising to your cheeks. In a whisper, you asked, “You think I’m adorable?”
His only answer was a slight huff as he leaned forward, kissing you. It only lasted a moment, your lips chasing his when he pulled away. “I’m gonna grab a drink, don’t sabotage my controller while I’m gone,” he teased, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Want anything?”
“I’ll take whatever’s on tap,” you said, laughing when he rolled his eyes.
Slowly, he rose from the couch, taking heavy breaths as he winced. His healing injuries — mental and physical — were better, but they weren’t gone altogether. Neither were yours.
They probably wouldn’t be for a while. Though, after waking up panicked and breathless from repeated nightmares, it helped having someone there to bring you back down. It helped having someone take care of yourself when that seemed impossible. And it helped knowing you weren’t alone in this.
You watched him make his way to the kitchen, rummaging around in the fridge. In these past days since the warehouse incident, it sometimes scared you how easy this was. Staying at his apartment together, helping one another recover. Your things sat scattered around his place, like they belonged. You wondered when he was going to say something, to ask you to go back home and tend to your wounds alone. When you both healed, would it all go back to how it was?
When a notification sound came from Peter’s phone, your eyes drew down to it for a second. Not knowing whether it was urgent Spider-Man business — not that he should’ve been doing it given his state — you called out, “Your phone dinged!”
Head still in the fridge, his words muffled, Peter called back, “Can you check it for me?”
You paused for a moment, letting a feeling of warmth settle in your chest before grabbing his phone. Just from the notification preview, you could tell what it was.
“Add another tally to your offers to interview for a job,” you told him, shaking your head — a smile evident in your voice. “This one’s for a junior photographer position.”
“What does that bring us up to now?” he asked, closing the refrigerator. He brought a glass of water and what you assumed was Dr. Pepper that’d gone flat.
“I think we’re tied at three each — though they’re just asking us to apply and interview.” You let out a sigh, trying not to get your hopes up. “It’s no guarantee of a job. They’re just interested in our story.”
Peter pointed a finger at you from around the glass. “Our story that kicks ass and put the corrupt city manager and his son away. That’s a piece that belongs on something bigger than The Daily Bugle.”
“You really think so?”
You looked up at him, chewing on your bottom lip.
“Sunshine, the greatest compliment Jameson could spit out was that it’s a ‘mighty fine’ story — before obviously yelling at us for not getting more pictures of Spider-Man during it… and that our injuries were no excuse, of course,” he told you with a wry sarcasm as he set the glasses down on the coffee table. Sitting next to you, his expression softened. His hand wrapped around yours. “But now you have the chance at something bigger.”
You grinned back at him. “But how could I ever pass up a job with… how’d he say it? ‘Minimal benefits and guaranteed maximum overtime’?”
Peter’s laugh rumbled through his chest, vibrating a comforting rhythm against you. Next to you, your phone buzzed this time. Picking it up, you told him, “Oh, another one! It’s 4 to 3 now — I’m in the lead.”
His grin made yours even wider, and you were unable to fight it as his hands cupped your jaw, his fingers careful to avoid the bruises along your cheekbone. “You see? You’ve got the whole world in the palm of your hand.” His eyes pulled you in, begging you to fall into him completely as he pressed his lips to yours once again.
You could’ve stayed there forever, sitting on that ripped couch in Peter’s apartment that you swore to never return to. Your fingers twisted in the ends of his hair pulling him even closer. The rest of the world melted away for at least a little while, leaving just the two of you in this bubble. When you eventually pulled away, your foreheads rested against one another, your nose nudging against his.
“Oh!” you said, leaning back, “I almost forgot. I picked up a frame while out grocery shopping — I couldn’t help myself.” You stood up, grabbing a bag from the dining table and pulling out a cheap picture frame. The story you’d already cut out from the newspaper felt smooth between your fingers as you carefully placed it in the frame.
You kept it close to your body while looking around for a good spot to hang it up, not that the walls had much — or anything — really on them. Deciding on a nice place between the door and living room, you asked, “Want to do the honors?”
Fishing out a nail from his tool drawer, which was really just a kitchen drawer full of scattered household items, you held it out to Peter along with the frame. It took some willpower to not gasp as he merely pushed the nail into the wall without a hammer and hung up the frame.
Straightening it just right, he stepped back and wrapped his arm around your back. You took it in, the first real decoration in his apartment — the story that brought the two of you together framed against the pale walls. Your names shone clearly at the top, next to the large letters spelling out, “Fundraiser or Fraud? The Beaumont Empire Falls.”
Leaning into him, your palm rubbing circles on his lower back, you asked, “Do you like it?”
His voice came out soft, the words curling around the ends of your body. “It’s perfect.”
It wasn’t, not with the ill-fitting frame or the story that likely needed further digging and refining. But right now, with Peter, it was perfect. You let your mind run through everything you two had gone through together, how you’d ended up here.
After a minute of thinking, though, something kept drawing your attention. Pursing your lips, you turned back to him. “Hey Peter?”
“Hmm?”
“I just have a quick question. When we were trying to get into the fundraiser, you said you ‘knew a guy.’ Did you just mean yourse-”
“Myself? Yeah. I’m the guy,” he told you, nodding repeatedly. Nonchalantly.
You scoffed, slightly laughing. You really were insane to have gone in on this project with him. “And then you made fake IDs and gave me some fake wedding ring so we could sneak in…” you said in disbelief.
Turning to grab his drink from the table, he furrowed his eyebrows. “The ring you borrowed? ‘S not fake — do you still have that, by the way?” he asked, taking a sip. “Need to return that.”
You took a beat staring at him wordlessly. Your mind crossed several things to say that you decided to hold back. “Peter, what do you mean it’s not fake? That giant rock on my finger was real?”
“Yeah, I borrowed it as a favor from a jewelry store. I saved the place from robbers breaking in.” He shrugged, the flannel his wore swaying around his body.
This relationship was going to take years off of you…
Your fingers pinched the bridge of your nose. “I’m going to kill you,” you half-heartedly murmured. Your eyes raised to meet his, your finger pointing at him. “You know, you’re so careless about all this. I fucking knew you were Spider-Man for so long.”
“Oh, bullshit,” he laughed out, walking closer to you. “Now you didn’t. And as long as we’re being honest, I was going to give you the Daily Bugle job offer at the end of the internship the whole time. So really… you didn’t have to do any of this.” His face morphed into a teasing cockiness that sparked a fire in your chest.
The two of you stared at one another, eyes alight but mouths fighting back smiles. All at once, a calm washed over you. “Are we done bickering?”
Peter rested his hands on your hips. He nodded softly, sweetly, as if nothing but you filled his mind. “Yeah, we’re done.”
You leaned forward, kissing him once before whispering against his lips, “Great, now grab the controller — ‘m gonna kick your ass in Mario Kart again.”
@dil3mma @hollandweather @reidslovely @a-lumos-in-the-nox @keepingitlokiii @thedevax @sincericida @agent-tempest @olivezgalore @qwintlimon7 @eddieslooneymoonie @aheadfullofsteverogers @bitchy-bi-trash
#peter parker#peter parker x reader#the amazing spider man#spider man#spider-man#tasm andrew garfield#andrew garfield#peter parker x fem!reader#spider man x reader#spider-man x reader
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hi~ I would like to ask twisted wonderland with a trio from octavinel. Mc female. Do you know this topic when a guy and a girl are sitting in a box or closet in a not decent pose? It was interesting to read. God, I'm so ashamed, you can ignore the request if you don't like the idea~
I love this idea! I'll give it my best shot, so I hope you enjoy.
"I can't see anything! Where'd the door even go?"
"I imagine the same place it was before it closed- OUCH! Watch where you're stepping!"
"Sorry Azul! It's not like I did it on purpose, you know."
Both you and Azul had enough reasons to dislike gym class to begin with, what with his general lack of athleticism and your general lack of magic. So adding on "getting stuck in the broom closet while putting them away after flying lessons" seemed pretty inevitable. You felt around for the wall in the general area of where you remember the door being, finally finding the knob and giving it a rattle.
Of course. Locked. What were you expecting?
"It's locked?!" Azul stammered.
"Sure feels like it. Do you have your phone?"
"No, it's in the pocket of my uniform."
"Mine too." You sighed, letting your hand slip off the knob. "Hopefully Mr. Vargas will find us. I can barely move in here and there's a broom handle jabbing me in the spine."
"Here, allow me-" You must've been a lot closer than Azul had expected, because his outstretched hand smacked you square in the chest. You heard him yelp, pulling away from you like he'd been zapped, and the clatter of several brooms and one second-year falling to the shed floor.
"You alright there?"
"I'm fine!" His voice was high and strung-out, nothing like his usual controlled tone.
"Whatever you say. Just lemme help you." You knelt down and began moving brooms off of Azul, to which he reluctantly joined. Every so often your blind, grasping hands would collide, and each time Azul's would shoot away with a tiny sound of panic or surprise. As your vision began to adjust you were able to make out just the fairest bit of him from the light seeping through the crack under the shed door. His cheeks were rosy and flushed, eyed pointed determinedly down at the brooms he could not actually see.
"...Thank you." He quietly muttered.
"Of course! Any time."
"Which pot did you want? The big one?"
"There should be a lidded glass terrarium on one of the higher shelves. The stepstool is folded by the door."
"Thank you, Jade!"
You'd found the stepstool for the botanical garden shed right where Jade had said it would be and unfolded it with a flourish. You'd decided to join him in Science Club today, and your current mission was helping him move some mushrooms from a small pot into a larger terrarium. The one in question, glass and shaped like a little greenhouse, was on a shelf just out of reach near the ceiling of the shed. Even with the stepstool you had to hoist yourself up onto your tiptoes, struggling for the foot of the terrarium with just the barest tips of your fingers.
"It's, ah..." You panted, already beginning the feel the ache in your ankles and heels. "...A little heavier than I thought it would be!"
"Would you care for a hand?"
"I've... almost... got it!" Finally you managed to hook a finger around one of the terrarium's feet and pull it towards you, taking it into both hands. As you tried to readjust your weight the stool beneath you shifted dangerously in the potting soil left strewn across the floor. You closed your eyes and clutched the terrarium to your chest, bracing for a rough landing.
But instead of the rough thump of you hitting the floor of the shed, you collided with something broad and warm. You opened your eyes just in time to see Jade's arms snaking around you to clasp his hands over your own and the terrarium clutched in your grip. You back was pressed heavily to his chest, one foot still on the stepstool and one dangling dangerously in midair.
"Careful now. Take a step down, but slowly." He purred. You inched your foot off the stool and to the floor, Jade turning you around carefully in his grip so the terrarium was tucked between the two of you. "You really must be more careful. I'd be to blame if you were to get hurt, you know.~"
"Floyd! Do you have any idea how long we've been looking for youuuuaAAAGK!"
You were just about to give up your scavenger hunt for the troublesome Leech twin when you'd found him curled up inside, of all things, a large cardboard box in the pantry of the Mostro Lounge kitchen. You supposed there had to be something said about the genius of hiding in plain sight, consider neither you, nor Azul or Jade were able to find Floyd when his shift was supposed to start almost forty-five minutes earlier.
But now, instead of him getting to his shift and you getting back to Ramshackle to finish your Magical History paper, both of you were uncomfortably snuggled into this large box, your face practically mashed into Floyd's chest with his long legs awkwardly folded up and blockading you in on either side. It would've been enough for him to just tell you to fuck off, did he really have to manhandle you like a ragdoll and force you into this impromptu snuggling session?
"Quit yapping." He hissed, voice thick with exhaustion. "Or I'll have to squeeze ya.~"
His arms coiled around your neck, giving you a short, warning squeeze. There wasn't even any room on Floyd's sides for you to get some traction and push yourself up, so you had no choice but to lay there snug and squashed against him, rising and falling with his lazy breaths.
"Floyd, I can't breathe." You huffed, turning your head so your cheek was snug against his chest and you could hear the thump of his heartbeat.
"Shhhhhh.... It's sleepytime now, Shrimpy. No whining allowed."
#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland imagines#twst#twst imagines#azul ashengrotto#jade leech#floyd leech#azul x reader#jade x reader#floyd x reader#my writing#octavinelle
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Monsters Of a Different Kind
Prompts 11-13 of DSMP Tickletober!
Summary: Techno invites Ranboo to explore with him in an abandoned mineshaft, but Ranboo is a bit anxious. Techno helps calm his nerves.
[Canon] Lee!Ranboo, Ler!Techno
Prompts: Mineshaft, sneak attack, adventure
Word Count: 1k
A/N: I fricking forgot that I had finished the fic for the 7th and thought it was this one, so I ended up rushing to get it done. Now regretting that choice because I feel like I could have extended it. ALSO, THIS DUO PLS-
On another note, I will no longer be attempting to complete the prompts on time. I have other things I’d like to be doing with my time, such as cleaning up this blog, and as much as I enjoy writing fics, they take too long to write for me to maintain this constant posting. I’ll still be completing all the prompts, but I’ll almost certainly still be writing them through November.
Ranboo had always been grateful for the kindness Techno had shown him. He expressed this in the form of little gifts; assorted trinkets and baubles he’d thought the man would find interesting. While Techno was appreciative of the gesture, he felt bad for the fact that the small objects would oftentimes be of little use to him, and would end up sitting tucked away on a shelf or in a box somewhere in his home. So, the most recent time Ranboo appeared at his doorstep with a tiny box in hand, Techno invited him to come exploring with him. He welcomed Ranboo’s company, and wanted the boy to finally feel like he was doing something enough to repay him.
The evening had come, and Techno had suggested they venture into an abandoned mineshaft he’d come across earlier to search for loot (mainly, gold). Ranboo happily obliged. Normally, he would have been apprehensive about the chance of encountering danger, but he was confident that the legendary Technoblade would help protect him. But he’d been clingy the entire time, practically stuck to the man’s side like glue. Techno really didn’t mind, but that didn’t stop him from playfully complaining and poking fun at the nervous boy.
Some time had passed, and the night was going well. They hadn’t come across any hostile mobs, only a few bats that had flown out so quickly they made Ranboo jump back and yelp. They’d already found a chest (including some fold, which Techno had been ecstatic about) and they were now carrying its contents in their packs. However, their items were growing heavy, and Techno, after noticing they were both starting to grow a bit tired, suggested they take a break. They found an isolated corner and set their things down, sitting down next to them.
After a short break, Techno suggested they split up for a while and meet back in that spot. It would allow them to cover more ground in less time. Ranboo agreed, but Techno could tell he was hesitant by the way he began fidgeting with his hands.
“Ya don’t have to,” Techno assured, but Ranboo shook his head and insisted profusely.
They packed up their things and set off their separate ways, agreeing to meet back in around an hour.
Ranboo had been walking on his own for a while, and he was terrified. He hadn’t encountered anything dangerous, only a couple of spiders which he had avoided; and he was carrying weapons, though he didn’t want to use them. It had been peacefully quiet, the only sounds being the echo of his footsteps and an unplaceable dripping noise. But the boy was tense, jumping at every little creak he thought he heard and every foreign shadow caused by the flickering of the torches on the walls. Suddenly, he heard a second set of soft footsteps behind him. He startled and turned around, pointing his sword out in front of him as he squatted into a fighting stance. But there was nothing. The expanse of corridor behind him was empty, and as he listened closely, there was not a single unordinary sound. He hesitantly turned back around, still suspicious, but he continued walking.
He was being foolish, he tried to convince himself. He’d been through far worse, and he’d fought off mobs on his own before. He was prepared for anything, anything at all.
“Boo!” a booming voice shouted unexpectedly, and Ranboo cried something in enderspeak, eyes as wide as saucers, as he was tackled to the ground and a weight landed on the back of his thighs. He lost his grip on his sword, which went clattering across the mine floor. He scrambled to free himself, before he heard cackling, and realized who his attacker was.
“Techno, why?” he complained exasperatedly. He was relieved, but he was nonetheless mildly upset that Techno had frightened him.
“Ohoho my gohod, you should have seen yourself!” the man laughed, and Ranboo groaned. Techno sighed lightly. “Oh, come on, Ranboob, cheer up.”
Ranboo couldn’t help but smile and roll his eyes at the nickname. He replied in a joking tone, “I’m afraid I can’t. You’ve upset me too deeply.”
Techno was able to hear Ranboo’s smirk as he spoke, and chortled once. “Well, I have ways of making you.”
The enderman hybrid jolted when he felt hands latch onto his sides.
“Techno, wait, I’ve cheered up!”
“Oh, but Ranboo, I’m not sure about that.”
Ranboo arched upward and squawked when he felt hooves slowly rake down his sides and land on his hips. He felt his face heat up, and he knew he was beginning to blush.
“Tehehech!” he protested, clenching his fists in an attempt to conceal his obvious giggles.
In an instant, Techno was squeezing his hips rapidly. Ranboo cried out and arched up again, collapsing back down in a fit of laughter.
“Plehahah- Pleheheasahah!” Ranboo laughed, but he didn’t know what he was asking for. He felt his tail begin to wag, and his stomach fell in a pit of dread. He attempted to still it, but its tip continued to twitch.
“Relax, Ranboo, you don’t have to pretend you don’t like this,” Techno said. Ranboo’s face turned an even deeper violet.
“Nahahah, Ihihi dohohon’tahah!”
“Oh really? Need I convince you, then?”
“Whahahat dohoho yahoo meHEHAHN?-” asked Ranboo, as Techno began wiggling his hands against his right side and squeezing along his lower back.
“TOHOHOO MUHAHACH!” Ranboo yelled. Techno stopped immediately, rubbing away the ghostly tingles from the teen’s skin. He listened to Ranboo’s giggles slowly and eventually fall to a halt. He began to stand up, but the other felt the pressure being lifted off his thighs and whined.
“Yes?” Techno asked, his tone too teasing for Ranboo’s liking.
He gulped, feeling the heat return to his face. “You didn’t have to uh, to stop. If… you di-didn’t want to, I mean…”
Techno grinned. In an instant, he launched himself up and gently rolled Ranboo onto his back. He placed the boy’s long, lanky arms above his head and instructed, “It’s easier for me if you keep ‘em up.”
Ranboo nodded, giggling already from anticipation. His small titters turned to full laughter when Techno swooped down and began clawing at the side of his ribs. As he allowed himself to laugh and smile freely, his tail wagging as much as it could underneath him, Ranboo decided he had no regrets coming here.
#mcytickletober#mcyt tickle fic#mcyt tickle#dsmp tickle#lee!ranboo#ler!techno#ler!technoblade#tickle fic#sfw tickles#sfw tickling community
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Out of reach (Ethan x MC)
Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Claire Herondale
Word count: 1,4 k
Summary: Ethan likes to tease Claire for her height. Claire patiently waits for it to bite him in the ass.
or: Two moments when they needed each other for their height.
Warnings: None
A/N: Got inspired by one of the MO chapters and also by my own adventures as a creature with the height of 160 cm. Fluffy chaos ensued.
Claire:
The intense smell of her cooking was wafting through their apartment, filling the space gently. Claire’s spent the past three hours preparing their dinner, reading an article as she waited for the sauce to reduce and gain flavor.
Her phone lit up with a notification – a text from her husband, announcing that he was going to be home within the next ten minutes and asking if anything needed to be picked up by him. She responded, requesting a bottle of good wine.
‘Good? You insult me.’ he responded, and she could practically hear him laughing.
‘Do your worst, Dr. Ramsey’ she shot back, putting the phone down, satisfied.
And so, ten minutes later, she was preparing to finish up their food. The last thing she needed was a box of pasta, which usually sat on the middle shelf in their pantry. But that day, it sat on the highest shelf, right below the ceiling and she remembered that it was Ethan that put away their groceries the night before. Her stool, that was there exactly for situations like these, was mysteriously gone, and no chair could get her high enough.
Luckily for her, the door just opened, and she could hear Ethan’s footsteps. His briefcase hit the ground and the next thing she could hear was his voice.
“Honey, I’m home!”
“In the pantry!” she shouted back, staring at the box of pasta with wild determination. That’s how Ethan found her, an endearing smile pulling on the corners of his lips when he saw his wife.
“What did the box do to you?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her to pull her to his side. His lips pressed against her forehead in a greeting, a low hum ringing through his entire body.
“You placed it on the highest shelf and my stool is nowhere to be found. Can you get it for me, please?” Claire explained, looking up at him with a hopeful gaze. Ethan laughed, brushing his nose against hers softly.
“My tiny wife.” He muttered, pecking her lips once before reaching for the box – demonstrating his height smugly. She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest.
“My gigantic husband thinks he’s being smart, huh? Just wait until you need more legroom on our next flight, and you have to deal with your long legs.”
“That’s why we pay for first class, honey. So I don’t have to worry about legroom. And besides.” He wrapped his arm around her again, leaning down to throw her over his shoulder. “You being so tiny makes it incredibly easy for me to do this anytime I want.” Claire shrieked, laughing happily as he walked them both out to the kitchen. “Now, what do you say we finish our dinner?”
“The wine cannot be wasted.” She agreed, shaking her head at his antics.
Ethan:
The sun shone brightly, warming his back, covered with a black t-shirt. His muscles tensed and relaxed while he adjusted the position the wooden planks, eyes roaming their backyard to figure out where he left the hammer.
Usually, Ethan would call someone in to fix the issue – three of the planks of their patio broke and made it a safety hazard to walk around. They hosted a party two days ago and Bryce got a little too excited while carrying a bottle of tequila. As he was walking from the house, he jumped, presenting the bottle. That’s when the wood gave out under him and it broke, along with the bottle of alcohol that hit the ground soon after.
But he couldn’t call anyone in. It was a Sunday, a day so hot that no sane person wanted to be anywhere near the outside atmosphere. In the past, maybe he would have waited. Ethan was no carpenter, and neither was he a fixer upper. But his little daughter – two-year-old Katherine – loved to walk, especially outside, and no temperature, hot or cold, could stop her. Needless to say, all Ethan could imagine was his child, hurting herself on the broken wood and nails sticking up from the surface.
So there he was, working for the past two hours to fix what’s been broken. He was convinced that he left the hammer right by his side. But it was nowhere to be found, so he decided to push down his frustration – he hated not knowing how to excel at things – and search for it again.
He found it, right below the patio – and right out of his reach. He tried, really tried, to reach it, multiple times, but his arms weren’t long enough and his body was too big to fit underneath the wood.
There was, however, a person at the house that just might fit into the tight space.
“Honey, can you come here for a second?” he called out, knowing that she was sitting in the living room, watching him from time to time. A moment later, his wife appeared in the doorway, a soft smile on her lips.
“Are you hanging in there?” Claire asked softly, leaning against the doorframe. Ethan breathed out, sitting back on his legs.
“It’s a bit more challenging than I thought it would be, but I’m getting there.”
“You do know that we can just keep Kat away from here for a day, right? She’ll be fine.” She reasoned, walking up to him so she could sit at the edge of the patio – the untouched part. His hand landed on her thigh, squeezing it gently.
“Our daughter loves to play outside, I’m not going to limit her just because the patio is broken.” Ethan responded, determinedly, locking his eyes with hers. She melted a bit, seeing all the love this once cold man had for his family.
“You called for me, I assume you had a reason.”
“Yes.” He pointed towards the space beneath the wooden planks. “Can you see that hammer?”
She leaned down, squinting her eyes. Nodding, she straightened her back, sitting again. “How did it even get there?”
“That’s a brilliant question that I do not have the answer to. But that’s not why I called you here.” He took her hand. “Since I’m too tall, I can’t fit in there to reach it. You, my dear, on the other hand, might be able to reach it.”
Claire stared at him for a moment, not believing that the moment was finally here. After years of him teasing her for her height, the time has come for the roles to be reversed. “Let me get this straight. You want me to fit into this tiny, tiny gap beneath our patio because you lost your hammer?”
“Yes, pretty much.”
“But we have another hammer in the garage! I can even go and bring it to you!” she argued, pointing with her arm towards the second building on their property. Ethan shook his head.
“And leave this one in there? That’s not how either of us do things and you know it.”
She gathered his face into her hands, smiling sweetly. Their lips met in a slow kiss, and he was beginning to think that she agreed, when Claire leaned back, a tiny smirk on her face when she spoke up.
“I’m very sorry, baby, I don’t think it’s gonna happen. Your wife may be small, but she also has awful claustrophobia. Unless you want to deal with a panic attack, I don’t think that’s worth it.” his head fell onto her shoulder with a resigned groan. She brushed his hair back. “You can fish it out with a broom. I’ll get it for you.”
And then she was gone. Ethan considered the frustration he felt arising in his chest, but then resigned to laughing. Of course, she was claustrophobic. He remembered, very clearly, their trip to Egypt and how she refused to go into the tombs of the pharaoh.
She brought him the broom and offered to occupy their daughter while he finished his task. He agreed, thanking her quietly, then tried to do as she told him – the broom almost got stuck in there too, but he managed, at last.
Another two hours later, he was finished, and their daughter ran onto the patio with a happy laugh. He embraced his wife, both of them smiling as they watched Kat play.
Notes
Ethan the giraffe doesn’t get the short people struggles - something Claire doesn’t shy away from reminding him. At least she can wear heels or climb that man like a tree
Thank you so much for reading, see you soon!
Perrie <3
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Giant house au! Technos had a sick day with Phil shinking down to help take care of him. They all probably thought Techno always carrying his sword even around the house was Techno being dramatic before Phil had to start using it for a lot of things.
But what about the opposite? Maybe two of the giants are out for a day or two, and the one who stayed behind got sick. Techno tries his best to take care of them despite his size.
-❤ anon
Sick Day
—————————
Giant House AU
CW: language
Notes: I’m gonna make it Tommy who stayed home with him since they haven’t had much bonding time, and so sorry it took literally forever for me to get back to this (also I’m blaming all grammar mistakes on me being sick)
—————————
Techno had no idea how to help a sick giant. He was already so tiny compared to the house he lived in, so trying to independently get medicine for his sick brother was way more difficult than it should have been.
Phil and Wilbur had left just the day before, which normally wouldn’t be a big problem. Techno was fine getting around on his own, especially since Tommy was staying with him.
He just didn’t plan on Tommy catching a fever while none of the other giants were there.
While Techno pondered how to actually get up to the giant’s medicine cabinet Tommy laid down curled up in his bed shivering every so often. He looked terrible.
And sounded awful too.
Earlier Techno had tried to crawl up to give him his shrinking potion, but everytime the boy sneezed it sent Techno flying… And the giant couldn’t hold him either since they both feared he’d cough and accidentally drop the human.
So there wouldn’t be any touching the giant.
Next Techno tried to make him soup thinking it might at least make him feel a little more comfortable. Though quickly he realized he couldn’t even get into the cabinet with human-sized pans without a giant’s help…And Tommy wouldn’t be getting up any time soon. Not even to mention that any soup he made would be nothing more than a spoonful for the giant unless he wanted to try to make him a hundred bowls.
So that left him standing on the edge of the giant’s counter staring up at the glass-panelled medicine cabinet. He’d never had to go in it himself, he had his own medicine in his room, but human-sized medicine wouldn’t do anything for Tommy. He was pretty sure Tommy would have to have at least a couple bottles of human medicine for it to do anything.
However, tilting his head up he could just barely see the jar he needed. It looked so close, but he couldn’t figure out how to get to it. The glass was too slippery so he couldn’t climb it, and he was too worried that if he used his hook he’d get stuck and have no way down until the other two giants came back home.
“Fuck…” Techno hummed, “Tommy you sure you can’t get up for just a moment?”
From the giant’s mound of blankets he heard a loud grumble followed by a cough, “No, cant move.”
Techno rolled his eyes and readjusted himself on the counter to get a better view of the medicine cabinet. He just needed a way to get up there- maybe he could pull something over to climb on. It probably wasn’t the safest bet, but it was better than listening to Tommy complain for the next few days.
Hastily he marched along the wooden counter over to a giant stack of empty cardboard boxes. They would be perfect…if he could actually move them that is.
With a loud huff he pushed his back into the side of the box, but only managed to move it an inch before his foot slipped.
“Come on,” he whined as he kicked out his legs against the counter- still no luck, “You gotta be kidding me.”
With a loud sigh he collapsed with his back pressed against the boxes. It wouldn’t work either.
“You okay up there?” Tommy’s voice boomed.
Techno sprung back up and glared at the huge boxes in front of him, “Yeah. Just fine.”
“Cool,” Tommy murmured, before throwing in, “can you get me some meds big man?”
Techno could almost feel the boiling annoyance building up in his stomach, “That’s what I’m doing.”
All he got was a low hum and another series of coughs from the giant. Not even a thank you.
He better be grateful later, Techno glowered.
It was only when Techno heard a soft chirp behind him that a thought sprung up in his mind. Quickly he turned around and sure enough one stray crow cocked its head at him from the other side of the kitchen. It’s black feathers glimmered under the morning light- it must have been left behind to watch over the house.
“Hey,” Techno cringed, “Bird? Why don’t you come over here Huh? You can help me.”
The bird chirped again and hopped forward before banging its beak against the counter. Not exactly what Techno wanted.
The human’s shoulder dropped as he waved at the crow, “Come on birdy. You can do it, just come here.”
The bird hopped along the counter again ruffling it’s tail feathers at the human. The sight of the giant crow was a bit unsettling, but after Phil trained them they behaved much better… Techno just hoped they’d still leave him alone even if Phil wasn’t there to control them.
“Come on. Just fly over here,” Techno pleaded, but the bird just stared, “I don’t know if you understand me but please just come here. I need the medicine.”
This time the bird cocked its head to the side before flapping over to Techno’s side, the small burst of air from its wings almost knocking Techno over.
“Oh hey,” Techno inched away from the crow’s sharp talons, “Uh maybe you do understand me huh… Can you get me up there?”
Techno pointed up at the cabinet and received a sharp chirp from the bird. Before he could even turn back around he felt a sharp prodding against his back. He tried to pull away but the pressure against his spine increased until he was plunged into darkness.
He was in the birds mouth.
Techno yelled out and tried to kick open the crow’s beak to no avail. All he heard in return was a disgruntled caw before the bird flapped its wings.
“Hey!” he yelped, trying to stay at the front of the animal’s beak, “Tommy help please!”
There was no response from the giant, although Techno wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to hear it from the crows mouth. He felt his chest start to tighten anxiously as he pounded at the hard beak. If he couldn’t get out he’d probably die there.
Tommy wouldn’t know where he went and there was no Phil to reel back in the crows. He felt helpless.
He sent another punch at the crease in the birds beak as he tried to keep his breathing steady. The last thing he needed was to cry.
Thankfully, this time when his fist hit the bird a small crack of light burst across his eyes. Immediately he tried to push himself through before he was regurgitated back onto solid ground.
He wiped the spit off his face and frantically tried to create space between him and the bird before his back hit a cold surface. He flinched away and turned only to find the glass panelled door he’d been looking at before.
His eyes whipped back to the crow that was now staring at Techno with its head tilted.
“You helped me?” Techno gasped.
The bird chirped a couple more times before hopping up to another shelf. Techno heard a bit of shuffling and scratching of the crow’s talons against wood before a giant plastic bottle thumped to the floor beside him.
Techno looked up at the crow with amazement as it let out another happy caw.
“You really are helping me,” Techno grinned, digging his hands into the container’s lid to pop it open, “I guess I see why Phil left you here huh?”
The bird cooed contentedly as it flew down to pitch beside the human. Every once in a while it’s wing would brush against Techno’s side as it’s picked at its feathers. He wouldn’t admit it but it was kind of cute in a “could definitely kill him” kind of way.
When he finally heard the loud snap of the bottle’s lid opening he let out a proud laugh before digging out two round pills. The medicine was almost the size of Techno’s arm.
The crow’s chirping increased as he packed both pills into his bag. This time with a lot less fear Techno let the bird grab him in its beak. The wet darkness was still unpleasant but he knew it wouldn’t be the cause of his demise now.
A loud of gust of wind reached his ears as the bird took off from the cabinet, and while Techno couldn’t see the outside he hoped the crow knew to take him to Tommy.
After a few seconds when the beak cracked open Techno grinned as he found himself right next to Tommy’s blanket cocoon. The sniffles of the giant boy could be heard loudly even through all the layers.
“Hey Tommy!” Techno yelled as he stepped out of the bird’s mouth and patted its head thankfully, “Got you your medicine.”
Immediately the giant’s head popped out of the blankets like a Jack-in-the-box.
Tommy coughed and grabbed at the human, “Really? Give it!”
Before the giant’s fingers could grab onto Techno he stepped back with a loud huff. His feet stood firmly on the ground as Tommy pouted at him.
“No thank you? Really?” he scoffed.
The giant teen rolled his eyes and shrugged off the human, “Whatever, thank you I guess. But I’m literally dying you know.”
A burst of laughter escaped Technos chest, “Uhuh, basically got a foot in the grave Huh?”
Tommy huffed and reached for the medicine again, but this time Techno careful placed the pills onto his outstretched hand. He heard a gulp as the giant downed it before he let out an exaggerated sigh of relief.
“Ahh,” Tommy grinned as he poked at Techno’s side, “Feel better already. Like a new man.”
“Oh shut up,” Techno laughed as he pushed away Tommy’s finger.
However it only managed to urge the giant on as he pushed the human onto the counter with his thumb. Before Techno could even react he was pinned down by the heel of the teen’s hand.
Tommy’s boisterous laugh echoed throughout the house, “Awe how cute lil Techno helping his big brother.”
Techno shook his head at the boys antics and playfully wrestled against his fingers. He was annoying sure, but he always enjoyed spending time with him.
No matter how much he pissed him off sometimes, he was his brother.
#giant house au#mcyt g/t#mcyt gt#corywrites#g!tommy#t!techno#fluff#tw mouthplay#I think???#does it count if it’s a bird?????#idk so I’m tagging it#❤️ anon
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10 ☾ he said that’s how he still remembers me
warnings: explicit language (cursing), mentions of miscarriage, mentions of infidelity (not rlly but on thin ice)
notes: you guys... this is a long one and it’s kind of fast paced, but we are finally getting some answers and the drama really begins! next chapter will be emotional, that’s all I know. I’m sorry for putting you through all this angst!! also, I wanted to bring some attention to the crisis in the Philippines right now with all of the dangerous typhoons. A lot of people need donations and rescuing, so HERE is a link to a twitter thread of donation drives! Please make sure to check it out, share and help spread awareness!
as always, come talk to me in my ask box! and if you want to be added to the taglist, please send an ask, or reply to this post or the masterlist!
not edited!! sorry if there are any mistakes lmfao i usually am sleep deprived when i write so yeah, there are probably some errors.
word count: 5,614
☾
The days following Jungkook’s visit were dull, if anything. You’ve received texts from Yoongi saying that he couldn’t come visit until that weekend because he had to finish wrapping things up in advance at the company so that he could spend some time with you. You had argued over the phone like teenagers when you insisted that he didn’t need to do that and you could take care of yourself until Jin came back. Of course, that led to him ranting about what the doctor said about monitoring you and your symptoms for concussion and to get him to just shut up about the medical stuff (it made your brain hurt more than it did usually), you reluctantly agreed to his ‘visits’, as you’d rather call them.
[nov. 20, 2020]
It was Friday now and you still haven’t gotten any glimpse of actual memories back, although you have been having these strange dreams that you couldn’t really remember when you woke up. You could only describe the feeling it gave you as ‘sinking’, like you were drowning and you couldn’t escape. As much as possible, you tried not to think about these feelings, and focused more on trying to get to know the version of you who lived in this amazing apartment.
The past couple of days that you spent at this apartment put you in awe. It really was the apartment of your dreams, from the color of the furniture down to the little plants stuck in the corner of that tiny shelf in the kitchen. It was beautiful and so you. The only problem was that you couldn’t find anything to help with your current situation. You scoured every nook and cranny and couldn’t find anything dated after your wedding reception. No pictures, no post-its, notes or anything past that date. What you had found in your apartment, you already knew of (aside from the wedding photos). Past photoshoots, high school photos, a notebook full of movie ticket stubs. There was absolutely nothing in this apartment that gave you a clue to the life you lived during the four year gap in your memory.
You even tried to get into your twitter and instagram from when you were nineteen but you couldn’t log in. Wrong password every single time. When you tried to change your password for social media, the email you used had a different password too. You couldn’t figure out what you could have changed your password to. Every password combination you could think of, you tried, but none worked, so you decided to just skip that and maybe go over it later on. Or make a new one. That could work, too.
You couldn’t even look at your twitter account because for some reason, it was private and that seemed strange for someone with almost 130,000 followers. You could see your instagram account from your browser, but it wouldn’t let you see the pictures and posts in full size with the captions and comments, so you were really stuck.
A quick internet search of your name yielded things you already knew. Former model, current writer (that fact was still surprising to you). Old news articles of dating scandals that weren’t true, except for the one with Yoongi. More news articles about your divorce with no further information than what Yoongi had told you already.
It’s as if any clue about your life during your memory loss is unaccounted for. It seemed like at this point, you could only rely on other people telling you about your life and pray to whatever higher power there was to give you your memories back.
This futile search was beginning to make your stomach churn. You almost couldn’t suppress the bile rising up in your throat. Hopefully Jin would return soon. Maybe he could put all of the pieces back together for you.
☾
Jungkook sat in on the uncomfortable leather couch in Yoongi’s office as he waited for the man to finish up whatever he was typing. He looked through his instagram feed and saw one of your posts from July. For a while, he was confused as to why this picture from July would end up on his feed, but he remembered the new instagram algorithm. Curious, he clicked on your profile and looked through it slowly. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually paid attention to your posts.
“I forgot to ask but what did you and Yn do at her apartment? She said you stayed over for a couple of hours.” Yoongi asked though his eyes never strayed from his paperwork.
Jungkook looked up at him and pondered on what to say.
“Hm, yeah. I got roped into staying. She asked a bunch of questions and we looked through her apartment and her photo albums. Her apartment’s cute, by the way. Way different from what your house looked like.” He comments.
“Really?”
“Yeah. It was bright. Lots of green. Nothing I’ve ever seen in the house you guys shared.”
“How was she when you picked her up? She told me a couple of things but I haven’t seen her yet so I can’t know if what she’s telling is the truth or not.”
It was quiet for a moment, with only the sound of turning pages filling the room, as Jungkook wondered what to say to this. He didn’t really know when to start with you, especially with how different you were acting.
“Well, she’s fine. The personality is definitely different. She seems a lot more outgoing, and she had a lot of questions but she didn’t push. I think she wants to try and figure things out on her own.” Jungkook replies as he continued to slowly look through your previous instagram posts.
“She’s been like that. She hates being a burden and gets really defensive about it sometimes.” Yoongi comments.
Jungkook pauses at your most recent post. He checks the date. September 22.
“When did you guys divorce again?” He asked.
At this, Yoongi looked up.
“The divorce was finalized on September 29, I think.” He answered, but looked questioningly at Jungkook as if to ask why.
“Did you know she was going to therapy?” Jungkook asked again.
Hearing this, Yoongi stood up abruptly and hurried over to where Jungkook was sitting.
“What? Where did you see that?” Yoongi asked as he looked over Jungkook’s shoulder.
Jungkook showed him the post. Yoongi took the phone from him and examined the post carefully.
It was a picture of clouds with text on it. Is this the life we really want? The caption read “as per the advice of my therapist, i’m just here to pop in and say that I’ll be going on a hiatus for a little bit”.
“What the fuck? I didn’t know this!” Yoongi yelled, evidently angry.
Jungkook looked at him confused. They were together for four years, how could he not know that you were at least going to therapy?
The same question was running through Yoongi’s head. He took a seat next to Jungkook to process this new information.
“Hyung, can I ask you a couple of questions?” Jungkook requested.
Yoongi could only nod.
“What was Yn like when you were together? Why did you marry her?” Those were the first questions that came out of Jungkook’s mouth.
He was truly, genuinely curious. Though he’s heard some things that Yoongi had said about you, he never knew the full story.
“We married each other because we loved each other. Wasn’t that obvious?” Yoongi retorted.
Jungkook pursed his lips at this. “Well that's what you tell everybody and yeah we get it, but considering the fact that I’ve barely seen you two together more than two handful of times in the past two years, I had to ask.”
“That’s because we were both busy, but that didn’t mean we didn’t spend time together. Of course you never saw it because you weren’t there and I’m not one to actively talk about my love life. Yn and I both liked our privacy.”
“Okay, then what was she like when you were together?”
Yoongi was quiet for a while. There were a lot of things he could say about you when you were together. He just didn’t know how to articulate it to Jungkook.
“When we were together… she was charismatic, beautiful and intelligent. Something about the way she communicated made you feel like you could forget about all of your worries and live life to its extent with her. She constantly dragged me out to picnics and made me forget about the business and my career. She made me feel young again. And she had so much love and care for people around her. For a long time, I felt like I would never be deserving of her. She was kind of like a sunflower. Or sunshine, you know what I mean?” Yoongi poured out.
Jungkook nodded. He realized that this was the time to try to figure out what happened to you in your marriage. From his conversation with you at your apartment, to the description of you that Yoongi had just given, he surmised that the version of you that he knew was someone different and he could only wonder if Yoongi saw it too.
“Did you ever feel like she changed? In the time you guys were together?” He probed.
Yoongi thought about it for a while.
“Yeah, I think so. I always found it strange that she decided to quit modelling. When I met her, she said it was all she ever wanted. I never asked because it seemed like a sensitive topic to her, but I supported her regardless. Writing seemed so out of nowhere for her. I don’t know where it came from. Then she stopped wanting to go to business dinners and events with me and after that we just drifted. And in between that, you introduced me to Yura.”
When Yoongi mentioned Yura, Jungkook winced. He had thought about it some nights ago, but he realized that he might have had a hand in your divorce by introducing Yura to Yoongi. Though he knows Yoongi would have never physically cheated on you, he could see how Yoongi and Yura gravitated towards each other. Jungkook had to admit that Yura was a sweet girl. She was beautiful, and when she smiled it was like sunshine.
Yoongi interrupted his train of thought. “Yura is kind of a complicated subject to our marriage. I would never, ever cheat on someone I loved. And I loved Yn, so much. When you introduced Yura to me, I was happy to meet a new friend and that’s all I saw, but the more you made me hang out with you guys, the more I started to see something in her that I stopped seeing in Yn. I never meant to have any sort of romantic feelings for Yura, but it happened and I feel so fucking shitty for doing that to Yn when I’m the one who promised her a lifetime together.”
Jungkook straightened his posture as Yoongi’s confession.
“Wait, what do you mean by that?” He asked.
“By what?” Yoongi looked at him confused.
“What happened to Yn that pushed you to Yura?”
At this, Yoongi scratched his head.
“I wouldn��t say that it pushed me to Yura, but remember when I said Yn and I started getting distant? As time went on, I felt like she changed and I didn’t know who she was. She used to be so bubbly and happy and always wanting to go look at flowers, but towards the end of our marriage, she stayed holed up in our room no matter how much I asked her to spend time with me. Yura, she was happy to spend time with me. She made me feel like I could forget about everything just by talking to me.”
“Yura made you feel like how Yn used to make you feel?” Jungkook cut him off.
“Well… I guess so.”
Jungkook thought about this for a while but narrowed his eyes at his hyung.
“Hyung, answer this truthfully; do you love Yura?”
The tips of Yoongi’s ears turned red after hearing this.
“Love? I don’t know. I like her? I like the way she makes me feel. She’s beautiful and smart and she makes me happy.”
“Hyung, I don’t know if you realize this, but the way you described Yura is exactly the same way you described Yn.”
“What do you mean?”
“It sounds like you started liking Yura because she reminded you of Yn when you met her. So, do you really, truly like Yura? Or do you just like her because she reminds you of what you don’t have anymore?”
Yoongi lowered his head.
“I-I don’t know. I never thought of it like that.”
Jungkook put his hand on Yoongi’s back to comfort him. Obviously, the man was confused.
“I don’t know if this helps, but I just wanted to let you know that whenever I saw Yn, during those dinners or events, she never gave off the vibe that you described her to be. To me, she was quiet, reserved and never bothered trying to get to know us, your friends, or your business. That’s what she came off as. When you told us that you loved each other and that you eloped, I thought you were joking. When I saw her, she just seemed like the typical trophy wife. Just for show. I never liked her and wondered what you saw in her all the fucking time, but now after hearing this, and after being with her for a couple of hours, it’s obvious that something happened that fucked her up and then fucked your marriage up.” Jungkook ranted.
“I think you might need to reevaluate the relationship you had with Yn so we could help her recover from this whole amnesia thing and hopefully figure out what happened. Something definitely happened, but since I don’t know your marriage like you do, I don't know what it is. I feel guilty now after realizing that I might have had a hand in whatever the fuck she was going through. And maybe figure out what you’re going to do about Yura. Can you keep dating her when your feelings for her are based off of your feelings for your ex-wife, who is currently pregnant with your wife and doesn’t know about it?” He continued.
Yoongi took a deep breath, taking all of this conversation in.
“Yeah, you’re right. I’m almost done with the shit here at the company. When I go home, I’ll sort everything out and talk to Yn and Yura tomorrow. I don’t think I can keep seeing Yura with the current situation. I have to tell Yn about the pregnancy as soon as possible, but I’m scared because the doctor told me to monitor for residual symptoms for her concussion. I don’t even know where to begin with the situation.”
“It’s okay, hyung. I’m here for you. You have to tell her about the pregnancy before she finds out herself. In the meantime, I’ll help you out when you can’t take care of her. I already feel shitty enough for how I acted with her when you two were married. I feel like I had the wrong impression this whole time.” Jungkook offered.
Yoongi remembered the moment earlier when Jungkook confessed that he never liked you and that baffled him because he thought that you two, of all people, would get along well together. More often than not, he would feel jealous of Jungkook, who had your admiration when you first started dating. He remembered you always asking him to introduce you to Jungkook and it took a year for him to budge and actually make it happen.
“I’m sure you’ll get along now. I always thought you did get along. Did you know she liked you before?” Yoongi asked.
Jungkook shook his head. “I didn’t know until the other day when you had me take her home. It probably would have helped if you told me she knew who I was before you introduced us after you got together. She never acted like she was a fan of my music and admittedly, I was a dick to her.”
Yoongi glared at him. It was a first for him to hear about how Jungkook treated his ex-wife.
“Well, you should feel shitty because she really liked you and your music. For a while, I thought she liked you more than me. If I had known you were an asshole to her, I probably would have ripped you a new one. Hearing you admit you treated her like shit makes me feel like shit because I never knew and just assumed you guys were good with each other. You didn’t do or say anything bad to her, right? You’re not that type of person.”
Jungkook could only pretend to smile at Yoongi as he asked this.
He shook his head and lied. “No, never.”
Lying through his teeth to his best friend about how he treated you made his heart fall to his stomach. Well, Yoongi didn’t have to know because it was in the past. You couldn’t remember any of the mean things he’d said to you, so now was the perfect time to make a new, much better impression of himself to you. He decided days ago that he would be better, because deep down, he knew that you didn’t deserve to be treated like how he treated you.
[nov. 21, 2020]
Yoongi had taken the day off after his somewhat enlightening conversation with Jungkook last night. He decided that he needed to go see you and spend some time with you today, but before that, he needed to settle things with Yura.
They decided to meet up at his apartment for maximum privacy, just in case anything happened. He wanted to account for the worst case scenario of Yura probably getting angry and throwing things around, but he doesn’t think she’s the type of person to do dramatic things like that.
Turns out, she’s not. When he reluctantly tells her that he can’t continue on with what they had because of residual feelings for you, in addition to the fact that there were complications in that relationship that he can’t speak about carelessly, she had reacted calmly and amicably. Though Yoongi hadn’t expected her to throw a tantrum, he was expecting some kind of anger, but all he got was a sad look passing on her face followed by comforting words.
He apologized profusely for having dragged her around when he still had apparent feelings for his ex-wife and not figuring out his feelings for her, or lack thereof, sooner. She reassured him that it was okay and she’ll be fine.
“I’ll be fine Yoongi. I liked you, but it’s pretty obvious that you used me as some kind of rebound or replacement for your ex-wife, and I was okay with it. Truthfully, I was waiting for you to just come clean and break it off with me. I hope you and Yn figure things out this time, and I hope you can talk to her. Communication is important.” She reminds him before she leaves, but not before letting him know that she would always be there for him as a friend.
He had texted her after she left, and after a couple of minutes to himself, that he was thankful for her being so nice about the situation and all in all, he didn’t regret whatever short-lived affection they had for each other.
Yoongi still couldn’t believe how smoothly everything with Yura went. He hoped that the rest of the day would be the same.
☾
You woke up to a message from Jungkook asking if you were free, so you had to tidy up the apartment and yourself because you didn’t want to look messy in front of someone you had idolized for a long time.
Luckily enough, you didn’t have to cook since Jungkook offered to bring food. You thank your lucky stars for that because for some reason, you’ve been feeling incredibly sluggish and nauseous. It was probably some symptoms of the concussion you suffered. You remembered your doctor saying something about that the last time you were at the hospital.
About 20 minutes later, you heard your doorbell ring so practically skip to the door, excited to see Jungkook and steal the food that he brought.
You opened the door to see Jungkook standing there with a big back of food in his hands. He was wearing all black, with a leather jacket that looked a tad too big on him.
“You look warm.” You comment.
He rolled his eyes. “Are you gonna invite me in or not? I even brought you food.”
You laugh a little and move to the side to give him room to step inside the apartment.
“So, what have you been doing?” He asks as he makes his way to your dining room to put the food down.
You make your way to the kitchen to get some plates for the both of you.
“Nothing. I’ve been trying to look for some stuff but I don’t know where to start so I just gave up until you or Yoongi could come help.” You reply as you move to the dining room to set the plates down.
Jungkook takes the food out and puts some on the plates. Kimbap, like you asked, and some seaweed soup.
“How have you been feeling? Okay?” He questioned.
You nodded, though hesitantly.
“Eh, I’ve been feeling kind of tired. I think I might be sick because I keep wanting to vomit. Is that my wintermelon tea, by the way?” You pointed to the drink in his hand.
Jungkook poked the straw through the lid and handed it to you.
“Sick? Did you take any medicine? Are you feeling better now?”
You took a sip of your tea and sighed, missing the sweet taste of the drink. It felt nostalgic.
“Mhm, took some earlier and I'm feeling much better thanks to the food you brought!” You smiled.
Jungkook rolled his eyes jokingly once again. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
He didn’t think about your illness any further. It was probably a cold and nothing else.
For about 20 minutes, the two of you ate and spoke about little things, mostly about Jungkook and his career. It helped you get to know him a little bit better since he’s the only person besides Yoongi who could help you in your situation until Jin comes back.
After you finished eating, you told him that you needed his help going through your room in case there was anything that could jog your memory.
“I would ask Yoongi but he’s been busy lately.”
“So I’m just your last resort?”
“You’re literally the only other person in my contact list besides Yoongi and Jin.”
“Right, anyways, lead the way!” He exclaimed.
You laughed as you led him to the room at the end of the hallway.
“Sorry if it’s a little messy, I didn’t have that much time to clean up before you got here!” You explained.
Jungkook shook his head, telling you it didn’t really matter since it was gonna be a mess anyways while you two went through your things.
☾
When Jungkook walked into your room, he was once again hit with the feeling that he had no fucking clue who you were in the past years he’d known you. If he could describe your room in one word, it would be enchanting. White walls, white sheets adorn with a baby blue blanket, wooden floors, giant plants and a mirror much bigger than himself. Your desk was filled with different kinds of pens, different notebooks that look to have been trifled through, and an unnatural amount of books and crystals.
From the looks of the rest of your house, he probably shouldn’t be surprised at your bedroom, but it’s still a bit difficult for him to wrap his mind around the fact that you were this type of person. Bright, intelligent, and incredibly neat.
He walked up to your desk and picked up the different notebooks laid out messily on the table. When he opened each of them, he noticed that they were mostly blank, with the exception of a few doodles. There were some things he’d recognized as lyrics from songs he knew, but nothing truly relevant to the memories you lost.
You stood next to Jungkook and looked at the notebooks in his hands.
“I went through those already. Nothing but a few sad lyrics here and there. None of them triggered any memories.” You mentioned.
Jungkook put them down and started walking around the room with you as you talked about what you did find during the days that you were left alone. What he got from that conversation was that you had no luck with anything and that’s why you waited until either he or Yoongi could come over and help you. Jungkook knew that Yoongi was coming over later, so if he couldn’t help you find anything or answer any of your questions today, then maybe Yoongi could.
“Oh! I forgot to mention that I can’t even access any of my social media, so do you think I can look through my instagram through your phone? I mean, if that’s okay with you. I know some people feel uncomfortable giving their phone to someone else to play around with.” You asked.
Jungkook shook his head and stuck his hand in his pant pocket, reaching for his phone.
“It’s fine, you can look at your profile, I think I follow you. The password is 061313.” He stated as he handed his phone over to you.
You grabbed it excitedly, finally getting the chance to see what your life was like during the four years that were missing from your memory. You fell back onto your bed as you unlocked Jungkook’s phone and clicked on his instagram app quickly.
You took a look at his profile first, staring in awe at the pictures he’s posted. Most of his pictures are very dark and he had quite a few selfies. You smiled a little bit as you admitted in your head that he was indeed handsome.
Okay, Yn, onto the more important things! You thought to yourself as you quickly searched your username ‘faeyn’ on the search bar. At first you were excited, but it deflated when you saw just how many posts you had. 13 posts. And almost all of them were just landscapes. Some had pictures of you by yourself, or with Jin, but that was it. How the fuck were you supposed to try to figure out your life through 13 pictures?
Scrolling through each picture and their captions from the oldest to newest, you quickly realized that you must have decided that privacy was something that should be valued. There was nothing of substance to your situation in the captions you’d written. Just casual mentions of how your day was, or what you did that day. The only thing that caught your eye was the latest post you had, dated September 22. It was a picture of clouds and the caption said something about your therapist advising you to take a break, so you were going to be on a social media cleanse for a while.
Well, at least you learned one thing. Apparently, you started going to therapy again. For what? You don’t know. You only remembered going to therapy a couple of times after the whole incident with your bastard ex-boyfriend.
You filed this little detail into your brain and hoped that maybe it would make more sense later on. Swiping up on Jungkook’s phone took you to his home screen, but you paused for a little. Maybe you could snoop through some more apps and see if there was anything else you can find.
No, that would be an invasion of Jungkook’s privacy, you thought. Another part of you argued that he wasn’t going to know and he’s here to help you. If there was anything worth hiding, he wouldn’t have given you his phone and his password so easily. And if there was anything, it wouldn’t be incriminating since he mentioned that you two didn’t really know each other that well, so you shrugged and clicked on his messages.
I’ll just see if there are any messages to me. I won’t look at anything else, you justified, as if it made it any better.
After scrolling for a little while, you finally saw something worthwhile. A text convo between you and Jungkook and from the preview of the message, it looks like it was from the middle of September. You opened it, excited to see the contents, but what you saw made you furrow your brows.
What is this?
☾
After Jungkook gave you his phone, he continued walking around your room until he got to the side of your bed that was next to the window. He looked around for a bit and saw something in the corner of his eyes. Crouching down lower, he saw something on the floor behind your headboard. He couldn’t tell what it was at first, but as soon as he moved closer, he realized it was a thick notebook. Jungkook surmises that you probably hadn’t seen it despite telling him that you looked ‘everywhere’. He took the notebook and sat down on the floor, completely hiding his figure, but not before he could look at you. He wanted to see what was in the notebook before he showed it to you, and luckily enough, you had been facing away from him.
So he sat down and opened the notebook. From just the first page, he could tell it was some kind of diary or journal. There were lots of drawings and stickers and a picture of you in a field of flowers right in the middle of the first page. He flipped through the whole notebook really quickly and found that half of it was already filled.
A part of him wanted to read through the whole thing and see what kind of things you wrote, but another part told him that it wasn’t appropriate. Despite that, he convinced himself that he should read maybe just one entry, just to see if this notebook was something substantial to your current situation.
Jungkook took a peek at you again and noticed you still had your back turned to him so he took that as a sign that he could probably get away with reading an entry. He flipped to a page randomly and focused his eyes on the writing.
The entry was dated August 4, 2020. Fairly recent. He noticed that there were some dark blotches on the paper that made the ink bleed.
He began to read the entry, not knowing what he was going to find out.
It still seems weird to be writing about my problems in a journal. I’m still not used to it, but it’s been helpful since I don’t really have anyone to talk to about this.
That made him frown.
I went to my OBGYN today because I’ve been having severe cramps and bleeding, but I already had my period so I was worried. And the cramps were starting to really hurt, so I had to go get it checked out just in case. Well, apparently I was pregnant and lost the baby.
Jungkook’s eyes widened and he gasped audibly. Luckily enough, it wasn’t loud enough for you to notice. He clasped his hand over his mouth at the disbelief in reading this information. A miscarriage? And so recent, too. He didn’t know how to feel. Yoongi had never said anything about this.
Jin actually just left my house a couple of hours ago. I don’t think the news hit me until now. I texted Yoongi earlier to tell him but he was busy so I think that was a sign that I should probably not tell him. It’s not like it matters right? Since the baby was gone anyways.
I know my therapist told me to stop with the negative self-talk, but it’s moments like this that really push me to just keep thinking I’ll never be good enough for the men that I love. Thanks to my bastard ex for fucking my mind up like this. No matter how hard I try, I always just circle back to the fact that I wasn’t good enough for him, and that I’m not good enough for Yoongi. Even fate is telling me that I’m not good enough to carry a child with the man I love. How fucked up is that?
Jungkook’s heart dropped to his stomach. He felt sick. There were so many things going through his head right now. He felt like he was violating something that was so private. Yoongi didn’t even know that you went through this. You didn’t even know you went through this. He shut the journal quickly, wiping the tears that formed in his eyes.
At that exact moment, he heard your heavy breathing and quickly got up to check on you. He walked around to your side of the bed and found you trembling with his phone in your hands. He noticed that his messages were open and he began to panic.
“What the fuck is this?” was the last thing he heard you say before your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you fell limp into your bed.
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Summary: Rick did not like shopping at the best of times. He was happy to shop online. With just a few clicks, everything he needed was paid for, shipped, and delivered to the letterbox in his college dorm. He avoided a bunch of fellow shoppers, didn’t have to worry about finding parking, and did not get distracted with things he shouldn’t want or couldn’t really afford. Yes, Rick did not like shopping, especially during the holiday season. That is until he needs to buy something for his mama and meets a young woman who works in a giftshop.
A/N: Richonne Christmas AU one-shot. All feel-good fluff
Word: 3,788
Rick did not like shopping at the best of times. He was happy to shop online. With just a few clicks, everything he needed was paid for, shipped, and delivered to the letterbox in his college dorm. He avoided a bunch of fellow shoppers, didn’t have to worry about finding parking, and did not get distracted with things he shouldn’t want or couldn’t really afford. Yes, Rick did not like shopping, especially during the holiday season. Luckily, his friends Morgan and Shane went with him for moral support when he needed to choose a gift for his mama.
The sound of Mariah Carey’s voice coming through the speakers of the PA system in the mall wafted around the friends as they walked beside one another. Christmas garlands with lights hung overhead, and there seemed to be a plastic, decorated tree in every shop window they passed. People were everywhere, trying to find the perfect gifts for loved ones. Rick wouldn’t really say it was last minute shopping, as it was the first week in December. Normally, he would leave gift shopping until a week or so before Christmas, but wanted to get it over and done with sooner this year.
Shane nudged Rick’s shoulder and then pointed toward a novelty gift store that looked like it sold everything from those tuxedo t-shirts to marijuana paraphernalia.
“There,” he said, wearing a wide grin. “Bound to find something in there for your mama.”
Rick and Morgan shared a look that was somewhere in the middle of disbelief and disgust.
“Nope,” said Morgan.
“Nuh ah,” Rick added. “I’m not gettin’ my mama one of those bikini t-shirts or a bong.”
“Why not?” asked Shane, still smiling.
Rick rolled his eyes and shook his head.
“The fact that you even have to ask me that makes me question why we’re friends,” said Rick with no malice behind his words. Shane just laughed and clapped a hand to his shoulder.
“You’ve been stuck with me since third grade, asshole,” Shane replied. “Now, if y’all are too good to come in that store with me, there’s a classy lookin’ place over there. Let’s meet up in the food court at that burger joint you like.”
“Thirty minutes?” asked Morgan, checking the time on his phone.
“Alright,” Rick replied. “Sounds good.”
The three friends nodded to one another and then went their separate ways: Shane to the novelty gift store, Morgan to a quaint little hole-in-the-wall bookshop, and Rick to the classy lookin’ place.
…..
One of the reasons Rick disliked shopping in public was that there was so much choice. He ended up overthinking most of the time. When the well-meaning staff asked if he needed any help, he normally gave a polite smile and told them no thanks. This time, however, he could probably use the help. The little shop had a wide variety of really nice gifts ranging from silverware to delicate looking jewelry boxes. Any one of the items would be appreciated and cherished by his mother. Rick was almost hesitant to touch anything because it all looked so pretty and nice. He wandered over to where the little glass figurines stood on a glass shelf. There were tiny little people, cars, monuments, and animals.
Rick’s eyes settled on a cute looking puppy figurine. His mama loved dogs. She would love the small glass one. Carefully, Rick picked it up and placed it in the palm of his hand so that he could examine it more closely. It was very nice. Yes. His mama would like it. Smiling to himself, Rick made his way to the counter to purchase the figurine. He was met by a friendly looking older lady.
“Found something?” she asked with a warm smile.
“Yes, ma’am,” Rick replied as he placed the little puppy down on the counter.
“Ooh, these are really lovely,” she proffered as she searched around for the blue box that the item came with. “I have a bunch of them myself.”
“I like it,” Rick found himself saying. “Hope my mama likes it, too.”
“A gift for your mama? What a lovely boy you are. She’s gonna love it.”
Rick smiled and nodded his head as the lady continued speaking.
“Now, this box is fine and all, but we have a gift-wrapping service here, and it’s free for the whole month of December,” she explained. “Would you like it wrapped up all nice for your mama?”
“Yes, ma’am, that sounds really good.”
She gave Rick a smile and then said, “Alright, I won’t be a minute.”
The lady then walked to the curtain that covered a doorway that led to the back of the store and called out, “Michonne? Honey? Got a customer who needs somethin’ wrapped up.”
She returned to where Rick was standing and said, “If you wait at the end of the counter there, we’ll have our gift wrapper fix you up.”
Rick nodded, smiled, and said, “Thank you, ma’am.”
He then made his way to the end of the counter with the little box in his hand. He was busy looking out the shopfront window when his attention was drawn by a sweet-sounding voice. Rick turned his head and he swore his breath caught in his throat when his eyes fell on the young lady standing before him. He was certain he was staring, with his jaw on the floor, because she repeated her question.
“You needed something wrapped?”
Rick needed to look at her lips to make sure he understood what she was saying because, holy shit, she was stunning. She had the prettiest brown eyes Rick had ever seen. Her hair was pulled away from her face in a chignon. Her smile was so bright that it was blinding. Rick was awestruck.
“Sorry, yeah, yes. I uh, I’d like this wrapped, please,” he stammered, mentally chiding himself for not being smooth in front of the pretty girl.
He placed the box down on the counter and managed to smile at her. She smiled back at him and he swore his knees felt weak.
“Is it for a he, she, or they?”
“Pardon me?” asked Rick, still not able to function properly.
“Not that it actually matters,” she replied amicably. “But some customers choose wrapping paper based on if the gift is for a guy or a girl, so I have to ask.”
“Oh, yeah. Okay,” said Rick, while rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “It don’t matter to me. I mean, it’s for a lady, but anything is fine.”
Rick glanced down at the nametag on her lapel, which read Michonne. A pretty name for a pretty woman, he mused, tempted to say her name out loud to see how it felt on his lips. He was drawn from his reverie by Michonne asking, “Is it a Christmas gift?”
“Yes, a Christmas gift,” he replied, kicking himself for malfunctioning in front of gorgeous Michonne.
“Awesome,” she replied with that brilliant smile. “I have some really nice Christmas wrapping here. Do you want foil or paper?”
“Umm, paper?”
“Great choice,” she replied as she reached under the counter and got out a few items: Three rolls of wrapping paper, a pair of scissors, and a roll of cello tape. “Which do you prefer?”
Rick had to force his gaze away from Michonne to look down at the choices. There was a roll of paper with multi-colored stars, one with tiny Santas, and the other with snowflakes all over it. The snowflakes one was the nicest, but he knew his mama would think the Santa one was adorable. He chose the Santa paper.
“Great,” said Michonne. “I really like this one. It’s super cute.”
“Yeah,” said Rick as he watched Michonne get to work.
Her long, elegant fingers made it look so easy as she cut through the paper, placed the box on it, and then began to fold the wrapping around the gift. She was done way too quickly. Rick wanted to stand there and watch her for hours.
Yeah, creepy, Grimes, he chided himself.
“Thanks, that, uh, that looks great. You make it look easy. You’re really good.”
“Thanks, it’s just a lot of practice,” she replied, somewhat coyly. “Did you want a ribbon or a bow?”
“Yeah, thanks. A bow would be nice.”
“Alright, any preference?”
“A gold one?”
“A gold one it is,” Michonne replied with another grin, before placing a small golden bow in the center of the wrapped box. “Did you need a bag?”
“Yes, please, that’d be great,” said Rick as Michonne placed the box carefully into a small, paper bag.
She held the bag out to Rick and their fingers brushed against one another slightly. Rick thought he was going to pass out.
“Thank you,” he said, still standing there.
“You’re welcome,” she replied with a beautiful beam. “Happy holidays.”
“Oh, thanks. Yeah, you too. I mean happy holidays to you, too.”
They both stood there smiling bashfully at one another until another customer cleared their throat behind Rick.
“Umm, thanks again.”
“No problem,” said Michonne. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”
“You too,” he said as he finally began to walk away. “Bye.”
…..
Now, Rick wasn’t a weirdo creep or anything like that, but he was a little smitten. He could not stop thinking about Michonne from the giftshop. He may or may not have went back to the mall and walked by the shop to see if she was there. They may or may not have caught one another’s eye and proffered friendly smiles. He may or may not be a crushing hard on the young woman.
A week after first meeting Michonne, Rick found himself back in the giftshop. He was pretending to be looking at the small jewelry boxes while stealing glances at Michonne. It was ridiculous, really. He was a broke college student who had already chosen the perfect gift for his mother. He didn’t even like shopping. He had no business being back in the shop. He was about to leave when Michonne finished up with the customer, and their eyes met.
Shit, he thought. Have to buy something, now.
He picked up the least expensive jewelry box and made his way to the checkout. He paid the same older lady from the previous week, and then took the boxed item to the end of the counter for Michonne to wrap.
“Hey, back again,” she greeted with her dazzling smile that made Rick feel all gooey inside.
“Hey, yeah, so much great stuff here,” he proffered, much more smoothly and confidently than he had been the first time they met.
“What’d you get?” she asked, causing him to stand up a little straighter. She wanted to have a conversation, he realized, and he was beyond happy.
“One of those little jewelry boxes,” he explained.
“Oh, yeah. For the rings.”
“Yeah, a ring box.”
“They’re really pretty.”
So are you, he thought.
“Yeah, they’re real nice.”
“Pretty paper for a pretty gift?” she asked warmly.
“Yeah, sure. That’d be good. You choose.”
“Alright, well, let’s go with this silver foil wrapping,” Michonne said as she took out what she needed.
“Okay, looks nice,” Rick said, wanting to keep talking to her while she worked. “You, uh, you got all of your Christmas shopping done? I mean, if you celebrate Christmas. Sorry, I shouldn’t assume everyone celebrates this particular holiday. That’s just inconsiderate on my part. I shouldn’t go around assuming things –”
“Hey, it’s okay. It’s fine,” she said with a little chuckle that settled into Rick’s chest and made him feel warm all over. “I do celebrate Christmas, and I actually did all of my shopping online back in September.”
“That’s smart,” said Rick, reining his nerves back in. “I left it late this year.”
Michonne nodded her head. The gift was wrapped, and she was placing a little red bow on top of it.
“Is this the last of your shopping?” she asked, reaching for a paper bag.
“Umm, maybe? I don’t know.”
“Well, whoever this is for is a very lucky person.”
Rick smiled at Michonne and took the bag from her hand.
“Thanks,” he said as he slowly moved away so the next customer could be served. “I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah, I hope so,” she replied.
…..
He was going to do it. He was going to go the mall, make his way over to the giftshop, and ask Michonne out on a date. If he was lucky, he mused, she would say yes and they would go get coffee, or whatever she liked to drink, and he would charm her, and they’d have an amazing time, and then they’d fall in love and have a cute story to tell their grandbabies. He was going to do it. He was. He walked into the giftshop and Michonne wasn’t at her workstation. Rick sighed and decided to browse a little in the hopes that he would see Michonne sooner rather than later. When she wasn’t at the counter after five or so minutes, he was about to leave when another staff member approached him.
“Can I help you with anything, sir?” the teenaged boy asked.
“Hey, no thank you, I’m just browsing –”
Just then, Michonne came from the back of the shop and went to her spot at the end of the counter. A line of customers formed, and more were entering the shop, and Rick saw his chance at speaking with Michonne slipping away.
“Actually, I might get these,” said Rick, pointing to a box of six silver-plated, embossed coasters that were probably out of his price range.
“Great choice,” said the boy as he took the coasters from the shelf. “Let me ring it up for you.”
…
As the line grew shorter, and Rick got closer, he felt his resolve falling away. This was actually ridiculous. He was there spending money he couldn’t afford to be spending so that he could talk to a pretty girl? Ridiculous.
“Hey, so you’re still shopping?” Michonne asked with sweet smile.
“Hi,” said Rick with a bashful smile. “Yeah, just a few more things.”
He placed the coasters down on the counter and Michonne glanced down at them.
“These are really lovely,” she said before meeting Rick’s eyes with her own. “Any preference for wrapping?”
“Nah, I trust you,” said Rick, causing her to beam more brightly.
“Aww, so sweet,” Michonne replied before she began her work.
He watched her graceful hands as she cut a gorgeous square of paper and placed the item in the middle of it. She then cut a piece of red ribbon and sat the paper over it. Rick looked on as Michonne carefully and skilfully folded the paper and bound it together with the ribbon which she then tied in a bow on top. It was perfect. She didn’t need to use tape to hold it all together.
“You’re so good at that,” Rick complimented her again.
“You always say that,” Michonne replied. “But thank you. Hey, did you want to add a gift tag?”
“Yeah, that sounds good,” Rick replied, eager to spend more time with Michonne.
“Cool, let me just grab one for you,” she said, fishing out a brown tag from under the counter. She took a pen out of her pocket and then asked, “Who do I address it to?”
“Oh, umm. It’s for, ah, Sheila. It’s for Sheila,” said Rick, not really thinking about who the gift was for, since he hadn’t planned on even purchasing it to begin with. He went with his mother’s name.
Michonne nodded and then wrote Sheila in beautiful cursive on the small tag.
“And it’s from?”
“Rick. It’s from Rick. That’s me. I’m Rick.”
“Rick,” she said, and he swore hearing his name on her lips damn near made him ascend. “There you go, Rick.”
“Thank you, ah –”
“Michonne,” she said. “I’m Michonne. Nice to finally be properly introduced.”
“Yeah, it’s nice. Thank you, Michonne.”
Wow, it feels great to say her name out loud, he thought before smiling at her.
“You’re welcome, Rick,” she replied as she handed him the bag with the gift in it.
…..
“Rick? I need to borrow some drawers, man,” Shane called out as he walked into Rick’s bedroom and made a beeline to the tallboy.
“You don’t have any clean underwear?” asked Rick, as he glanced up from where he was sitting on his bed reading one of his textbooks.
“Nope, that’s why I need to borrow yours,” said Shane as he dug through the bottom drawer. “I’ll get ‘em back to you ASAP.”
“Ugh, no thanks. Keep ‘em.”
“Hey, man, what’s all o’ these?” asked Shane as he pointed to the gifts sitting atop the tallboy. “Hope you didn’t go buyin’ me anything.”
“They’re not for you.”
“Who’re they for then?”
“No one.”
“No one?” asked Shane dubiously as he picked one up and read the tag. “Sheila? As in your mama? You dumb enough to call her by her first name?”
“What? No. They’re not for mama. They’re just. I don’t know. It’s stupid.”
“Rick, you’re not makin’ a lick of sense. You wanna explain?”
Rick let out a sigh and then pinched the bridge of his nose.
“It’s stupid,” he repeated. “There’s this girl.”
“A girl named Sheila? You goin’ with some girl with the same name as your ma? That’s weird.”
“No, dumbass, there’s no girl named Sheila. Her name’s Michonne. I met her a few weeks ago. And she’s somethin’ else. I’m tellin’ you, man, she’s so gorgeous and sweet. And I’ve been meaning to ask her out, been buildin’ up to it, but I haven’t and I want to.”
“Okay, well, that’s cool, but what’s she got to do with all o’ these gifts? You gonna give ‘em to some girl you ain’t even asked out yet?”
“No, it’s not that,” said Rick as he took a deep breath. “She works at the classy lil’ giftshop I went to the other week. I got my mama’s gift from there, and Michonne wrapped it for me. I took one look at her and I was so gone on her.”
“Hold up. Hold up. So, you’re tellin’ me you’ve been goin’ back to the shop, buyin’ shit, and gettin’ this pretty girl to wrap them for you? Shit you don’t need, and probably can’t afford? Just so you can stand in front of this chick and not ask her out? And you’re callin’ me a dumbass?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
Shane shook his head and then burst out laughing.
“Damn.”
“Yeah.”
“Get your ass down there and ask the girl out, Rick. Before you buy the whole goddamn store out you dumbass.”
…..
Shane was right, Rick was a dumbass because he was standing in front of Michonne with a little cat statue that she was calling gorgeous while trying to figure out how to wrap it. She sat it on some foil, drew it up around the figurine, and then tired it with ribbon at the top. It looked great.
“Sheila’s very lucky,” said Michonne as she placed it carefully into the bag filled with tissue paper.
“Sorry?” asked Rick, too distracted by the words running through his mind.
“Sheila, your girlfriend,” said Michonne, looking slightly deflated as she said the words. “She’s super lucky to have a boyfriend like you getting her all of these amazing gifts.”
Rick pressed his palm to his face. Yes, he was a dumbass.
“Oh, no, no. Sheila’s not my girlfriend. It’s my mama’s name.”
“You call your mom by her first name?”
“No, I don’t. I ah – shit. I’m sorry. It’s – damn it, let me explain. Do you go on a break soon, or?”
“Umm, yeah. Ten minutes or so. Why?” asked Michonne, with a questioning look on her face.
“Would you like to get some coffee with me?”
“Coffee? Like a coffee date?”
“Yes.”
“What about your girlfriend who you’ve been buying all the gifts for?”
“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Rick explained. “I don’t even have anyone to be buyin’ all of these nice things for. Truth is, I’ve been comin’ in here trying to work up the nerve to ask you out.”
“Really?”
“Yes, Michonne, really,” he said gently. “I just wanna buy you a coffee. Or just spend some time with you. Would you wanna do that? Would you wanna spend some time with me?”
Michonne narrowed her eyes a little as she contemplated Rick’s request.
“Yeah, sure,” she said with a smile. “I’d like that.”
…..
Christmas day in the not too distant future…
“Dad, I love it, thank you so much,” said Carl as he smiled down at the gift that his father had given him.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” said Rick with a warm smile.
“I can’t open this,” said Judith as she tried to untie the intricate ribbon.
“Give it here, honey,” said Sheila as she reached out her hands. “Let grandma help you with that.”
The small girl handed the gift over and leaned against the old woman’s chair.
“Why don’t you check the stockings,” said Rick to his daughter.
“Oh yeah, I nearly forgot,” said Judith as she made her way to where the stockings were hanging over the disused fireplace at Sheila’s home. Her gaze landed on the little glass ornaments sitting atop the mantlepiece. One little glass puppy, and a cat statue sitting next to some coasters and a ring box. “Grandma, these are so cute. Where’d you get them?”
“Those were a Christmas gift from your daddy. They’re very special to me,” Sheila said with a fond smile.
“They’re special to me, too,” said Rick, as Michonne, André and R.J. came back into the living room with a tray of steaming beverages. She set it down on the coffee table and took up a seat next to her husband.
“We got hot chocolate,” said R.J. excitedly.
“And marshmallows,” André added.
“Thank you, my babies,” said Rick with a loving smile.
“Why?” asked Judith, ever the inquisitive child.
“Sorry, honey?” asked Rick.
“Why’re they special to you?”
“Because,” said Rick, as he turned to Michonne and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “If I didn’t go shopping for them, me and your mama might not have met.”
Michonne took hold of Rick’s hand and leaned in to kiss his lips.
“Well,” said Judith as she watched her parents stare lovingly at one another. “That means that they’re special to our whole family.”
“That’s true,” said Michonne as she leaned her head on Rick’s shoulder. “But you know what’s even more special?”
“What?”
“Our family,” Michonne replied happily. “Merry Christmas, Team Grimes.”
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- sugar & spice (m) jjk & kth
➻ summary: “Your assistant Jungkook has been harbouring secret feelings for you, the sweet bakery owner, for some time now. But what will happen when Taehyung, handsome, smooth as ever and mysteriously new to town comes along to sweep you off your feet?”
➻ Kiki’s Delivery Service!AU
➻ word count: 20.8k
➻ pairing: older baker!reader x baker assistant Jungkook x upperclass Taehyung.
➻ warnings: angst, reader doubts herself a lot, unprotected penetrative sex (pls keep this a fantasy only and wrap it), oral m. and f. receiving, spitroasting, creampie...hehe, food play, mentions of mxm, pregnancy, pregnant sex, lactation, squirting, anal fingering, anal sex, double penetration, daddy kink, and somehow also tooth rotting fluff.
➻ A/N: Thank you to my lovely cutie pie and fellow cherry koo enthusiast @gingerpeachtae for beta reading this for me! 🍒💜 The age of the reader is totally up to you! I’m absolutely in love with this AU, it’s the fluffiest yet the filthiest thing I’ve ever written yet. If you’re wondering about the time period, the film is set in a kind of alternate 30s though it’s not confirmed.
Moodboard I Music
It started with the gardenia.
The first time Taehyung visited your bakery he had left behind a small white flower on the bakery counter when you weren’t looking, startling you in the most pleasant of ways when you nearly crushed it with your hand. You lifted the petals to brush the tip of your nose as you sampled the sweet scent, a blush warming your cheeks as you remembered how his charming smile had you flustered and fretful yet so endeared. However, what was not lost on you was the meaning behind it. Secret love.
“...Miss?” A voice trailed off, disturbing you from your wandering thoughts and turning your attention to the customer right in front of you. “May I please get four apple danishes, a loaf of bread and a box of orange poppy seed muffins?”
“Sorry, yes of course! One moment please, hey Kookie?” You called in a singsong voice as you slipped into the back workroom. “We’ve got another order for orange poppyseed, how long will they be?”
Your part-time helper came in the form of Jeon Jungkook, but you liked to call him Kookie due to his sweet nature. He was six feet tall, ridiculously muscled and had an adorable bunny smile. He did most of the oven work, tending to the fires and cleaning in the kitchen, but helped you with some of the baking as well. He was particularly gifted at making the most exquisite citrus flavoured cakes, and had more recently been trying to perfect cream puffs.
“Not long, noona. They’ve been very popular lately,” he mused, dimples etched deeply into his cheeks as he grinned. A smudge of black from the coal darkened one, and you couldn’t help but tut.
“Of course they are, they’re delicious and it’s going to be spring soon...also you have soot on your face again, Kook,” you informed him, wiping it away with an endeared smile. The gentle tingle of the bell alerted you to another customer entering the store, and you hurried back out the front to continue running your popular business.
“Sorry, the orange poppyseed will be ready soon. Are you happy to wait?”
“Of course!” The young lady remarked, tilting to the left slightly to get a glimpse of Jungkook.
You remember the day he had come by your bakery, spotting the sign in your window stating you were looking for a kitchen hand. It was over three years ago now, the young man had just moved here for a change in scenery and was looking for a job. The picturesque seaside town provided the perfect scenery for his hobby of photography, and he was saving up to buy a better camera than the second hand one he currently owned.
It was astonishing how quickly he grew and matured in that time as well, hitting almost a second puberty and growing tall and filling out very nicely. The ladies in the town didn’t miss it either. It was a shame he was so shy around them, looking so out of place with a blush dusting his cheeks when he would catch a flock of them whispering to each other about if the cute baker was seeing anyone. They certainly weren’t coy about the way they would stare at his bulging biceps as he hoisted around the large trays of steaming fresh bread loaves, or wouldn’t hesitate to ogle his behind when he squatted to reach the lower shelves behind the counter. If only he could get a clue, but alas, he was absolutely oblivious.
After about ten minutes Jungkook emerged from the back room to refill the glass display with his cakes that would no doubt be gone within the hour. He handed the young lady a bagful, and flustered when her fingers brushed a little boldly over his.
“These are really delicious, Mr. Jeon. I would even dare say they’re my favorite. Perhaps you’d like to join me later and we can share them?” She asked him, a glint of hope in her eyes at the way he gawked at her.
From how pretty she was, you didn’t blame him. In fact, a tiny inkling of jealousy unfurled within you, wishing that you could have handsome men line up the way women did for him. Sure, the young man may have wiggled his way into your heart, setting down roots that began small but steadily grew, but he didn’t seem to return your fledgling feelings. A small smile found its way onto his face - nothing like the one you got from him every morning when you opened up the shop together - but nonetheless he was still smiling at her.
“Or you could even give me a private lesson on baking? I just had my kitchen redone, it’s so grand.” The young woman suggested, but it was when he started becoming flustered for a response that you realised how uncomfortable he was, and how grotesque and ugly it was for you to be jealous in the first place. “The bench is just the perfect he-”
“I’m afraid Jungkook is working right now, and business is really quite demanding at the moment,” you interrupted, causing her sweet expression to sour. “Remember the wedding at the end of the week? We’ve got a lot of orders to finish up on.”
If looks could kill, you’d surely be six feet under from the bitter expression she shot at you. She huffed and gathered her things, leaving without her usual generous tip. Upon her disappearing from sight, Jungkook let out a long breath, shoulders slumping in relief.
“Thank you noona, I really didn’t like the direction that conversation was taking,” he murmured, looking off into space like he was having a traumatic flashback before shuddering violently. “I can close up shop, you should have an early finish for once, you work too hard.”
You opened your mouth to protest but he shushed you, insisting. “No really, I got it covered. Thank you again, noona.” He swooped in to peck you on the cheek before pushing you toward the back. Powerless against his inhumane strength, you had no choice but to be ushered halfway up the stairs before he bounded back down and returned to the shop.
When you reached the top of the stairs your black cat Jiji was quick to rub around your ankles, purring and meowing for food. You chuckled softly at his dramatic antics, more than once having to shoo him away as you fill his bowl with wet food, scraping the bottom of the tin. Some got on your fingers and you scrunched your nose in distaste, wiping your dirty fingers on your apron before untying it and placing it in your washing basket, absentmindedly wondering what you could do.
You supposed you could always finish off the spread for the wedding pastries and, most importantly, the cake. Sketches were strewn across the coffee table, and you sat down on the couch with a huff, vowing to finish it by tonight. Your eyes were drawn to a photograph of the couple, arms around each other in a sweet embrace as the photo was taken. It was the day they were examining the potential wedding venue, you remember how she gushed about the amount of flowers in the garden when she left you the photographs. Her wedding cake was to be white and have lots of iced flowers on each tier, it was simple yet so beautiful. She seemed happy. You wondered when you would find someone who would return your love the way her fiance seemed to, if his look of adoration was anything to go by. Then you remembered the gardenia, and how you met the young man you gave it to you.
It was getting quite late in the day and your shop normally had a few stragglers around this time, however, this evening it was empty. You had your head stuck in the display case, reaching far in to wipe down each shelf. The soft ringing of the bell on your door didn’t reach your ears, nor the footsteps that made their way to the counter.
You jumped in fright when a face appeared in front of yours, slightly warped through the glass. He stared for a moment too long before you hurriedly freed yourself, dusted off your apron and smoothed any frizzy baby hairs you knew would probably be sticking up. He was impeccably dressed in a white shirt with a button up vest that was almost gold in colour, shimmering in the afternoon sun. From the looks of his attire he surely came from money. As his head turned to the side you noted he had a lovely profile and the rest of his facial features were mostly symmetrical. Lucky bastard, you knew many people who would kill for the natural beauty he so effortlessly possessed, the type of beauty that simply couldn’t be bought. However, the small signs of weariness did not escape you as his eyes took in your little shop. Finally, they landed on you and strangely you felt the need to squirm.
“Good evening, sir,” you greeted politely, wondering if he would be entitled like most of the good looking, rich folk.
He stepped up to the counter. “I hope I’m not keeping you, am I? If it’s too late, that's alright. Though it would be a shame, I’ve been told very good things about this place and I’m exhausted.” His jacket was slung over one arm, hair wind ruffled and a pair of thin wire glasses balanced upon his well-set central nose. It wasn’t unusual for wealthy people to pass through this coastal town on their travels, though they rarely came this late to the bakery.
“No no, I’m not one to turn away a valued customer, what can I get for you?”
“Coffee please, I’m dead on my feet and I need to stay awake for a little longer.”
You nodded, well practiced hands already beginning to brew his drink. “Long journey? I take it you’re not from around here, and we do get a lot of travellers.”
“Very observant, Miss. I’ve just arrived to manage the large branch of my father’s shipping company that’s located in this coastal town. I was told it had very pretty scenery, but nobody told me it also has very pretty bakers here.” He remarked with a sly grin and you almost lost your grip on the coffee cup at his brazen compliment. He chuckled softly at your lack of response, not wanting to make you too flustered. “May I sit?”
“O-Oh, yes. Of course,” you stammered, kicking yourself for your stuttering. You were normally a fairly confident girl, yet all it takes is one handsome stranger to reduce you to this? Get a grip. He bowed softly in thanks, before turning and draping his jacket over the back of one of the chairs. You found your line of sight wandering down his back to the behind of his well tailored suit pants. The ladies in the town are going to eat him alive in the morning, he’ll soon forget about you and this little place. Yet, you found yourself slipping a small vanilla slice onto the plate beside his cup as a little welcome gift, adamant that you weren’t trying to impress him.
“Thank you,” he said, sounding more than a little tired. Incapable of thinking up a coherent response you bow quickly, spotting the fingerprints all over the glass of the display cabinet and set to work cleaning them. A soft groan makes you whip your head back around to look at him, did he get hurt? What if you made his coffee too hot and he burned himself or his tongue? His face was scrunched up almost as if he was in pain and he licked his lips a few times, seeing them moisten from his tongue caused you to swallow hard.
“Oh wow - this, is this vanilla?” He suddenly asked, and your eyes widened, he seemed more alert and staring at you now that his cup was empty. “I’m more of a dark chocolate person but my my, this is delectable. Normally I don’t drink coffee, but given how exhausted I was it was welcomed. The sweetness of the vanilla balanced it out perfectly, thank you. How much is it?”
“Oh no! The slice is on the house, consider it a little welcome to town gift,” you insisted.
His sweet expression faltered and he tutted, standing slowly and gathering his things. “If you aren’t going to tell me then I suppose this will have to do,” he sighed, pulling out a note far too large for the price of any of the little pastries in your shop from his wallet. You gasped and went to grab it and give it back to him, but he snatched it away before his other hand captured yours and the money was pressed into your palm along with...something else? Before you could think of what it might be, he lifted your hand and pressed a kiss to the back.“It was lovely to meet you, Miss...?”
“Oh, um. Y/N.”
“Y/N...what a beautiful name.” With that he left the bakery, disappearing into the dust pink evening, the little bell attached to the door softly jingling. You realised your hands were trembling from the press of his petal-soft lips, and when you opened your palm to look at the money there was also a small white flower. A gardenia? Where did he get that from?You hadn’t seen any around town.
You picked up the slightly dried-out flower from a few days ago, twirling it in your fingers and smiling when you could smell it still held a strong aroma. The fresh one from this afternoon was still in your apron pocket, and you fished it out from the washing basket gently, trying not to damage the petals. An idea popped into your head for scent bags, and you jumped up to rummage through your shop supplies for a brown paper gift bag.
It hung in your wardrobe nicely, and would make your clothes smell lovely. He’d only given you two, but maybe he was going to bring one every time? Where were they even coming from? He- you stopped your little tangent of thoughts, cursing yourself for getting so hopeful. Surely he pulled that trick with every young woman he met. You weren’t going to lie, the second time he left you a flower you got your hopes up. But the amount of women who walked about the town with a flower in their delicate gloved hand gave you your doubts.
As a distraction you threw yourself into your work, finalising the ingredient lists, accounts, designs and much more for the wedding cake and patisseries. Your mood was lifted somewhat, after all, that was your passion. Many days as a child you had helped your grandmother in her little kitchen. You reminisced back to the days where she taught you the secret recipe for her pumpkin scones, now one of your bestsellers.
Some time later you decided enough was enough, as your eyes grew heavier and increasingly difficult to keep open. The rest of your work could wait until tomorrow and you gladly flopped down on your awaiting bed, resting your stinging eyes for five minutes. The lamp on your bedside table casted a soft glow about the room, and you didn’t remember drifting off to sleep.
Soft chirping met your ears, muffled on one side where your face snuggled into the pillow. You groaned when something wet and feather light brushed against your cheek a few times. A louder, more piercing meow made you crack your eyes open to meet large green ones, a rumbling purr starting.
“Morning, Jiji.”
Your limbs were stiff and aching, you almost thought they might creak like the old wood of your floorboards if you were to stretch a little too hard. A huff of discomfort left your lips, annoyed at yourself for nodding off so easily without washing or even brushing your teeth. As you rose from the double bed in your small yet comfortable upstairs flat, your muscles protested but you gripped the ensuite bench for support, working hunched over your coffee table for long periods of time never ended well. However, it’s where you seemed most focused. Wincing when you took in your unruly hair and puffy under eyes in the mirror. Nonetheless, it was nothing a warm shower couldn’t fix.
The steaming hot water ran over your shoulders and felt like heaven, relaxing the tension and chasing away that early morning chill that was only just leaving as spring fully came around.You lathered a generous amount of shampoo and your favourite sweet smelling conditioner which you only used for special occasions, such as if you were going to bump into a certain special someone today.
Loud meows came from outside your bathroom, only increasing in volume as you cracked the door open, still toweling off your damp locks. “Okay okay, at least let me get dressed first. Stop acting like you’re going to starve, I actually think you’re getting a bit fat Jiji,” you mused as you finished pulling the dress over your head. Your eager feline bounded into the kitchen, and you went to follow only to jump in fright as you entered the living room.
Curled up on the couch that was a little too short for him was a fast asleep Jungkook, looking so peaceful with his cheek squished against one of your too hard decorative pillows. Jiji trotted over to the couch, jumping up without a care in the world and sniffed at his face. Jungkook’s nose wrinkled at the wet ticklish sensation, cracking his eyes open and moving to sit up. When he spotted you looking at him through half asleep eyes, he froze. You quickly thanked the heavens you hadn’t walked into your living room without any clothes on as you sometimes do.
“Did your bicycle chain snap again, Kook?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, the hair on one side of his head sticking up, not looking you in the eye as he nodded sheepishly. You sighed, this was the third time now and you were becoming angry with the repairs shop. “That’s it, I’m buying you a new one or something, anything would be better. I know you’re attached to that thing but it’s so old now. I just don’t want you getting stranded,” you fussed softly, pinching his chin and making him look at you. “Now go wash up while I make us some breakfast. There’s some clean clothes of yours in the laundry that you never took home, you can change into those.”
“Thank you noona, really.” He beamed, pulling you in for a warm hug that instantly had you melting into his embrace. Your hand found its way into the back of his long dark brown locks, scratching his scalp softly drawing a shiver from his large frame. Unconsciously his arms tightened around you and you let out a soft noise, causing Jungkook to release you instantly. He murmured a soft apology, scrambling downstairs to the laundry. You laughed to yourself at how funny he could be sometimes, blissfully unaware at the fact that he was running away so you wouldn’t spot the rapidly growing tent in his pants.
A short while later he emerged from your bathroom, still shivering slightly from the cold water but he was feeling extra refreshed. The appetizing smell of whatever you were cooking wafted into his nostrils and he plopped down at the kitchen table while toweling off his wet hair. His eyes followed your figure as you moved about the kitchen, and the domesticity of it all made his heart flutter. How he wished things would be like this every morning.
He knew he was staring again, openly admiring your side profile and his eyes couldn’t help the way they trailed further down. You had a little stomach from all the sweet things you sampled, and Jungkook sometimes couldn’t help the way he stared at your hands smoothing over your apron. His mind wandered until he was imagining how beautiful you’d look pregnant with his baby. His cock twitched in his trousers at the mental image of your belly swollen as you squirmed naked on soft white sheets, whining softly for him to fill y-
“...Kook? Jungkook!” You yelled out, waving a wooden spoon in his direction and his jaw snapped shut and he sat up straighter. “There you are, you sure do zone out a lot, don’t you? For the third time, can you set the table please?” He stood up a little too quick almost causing the chair to topple over, and you laughed softly. He was an odd one alright. “Must be interesting things you’re daydreaming about,” you mused while serving the eggs onto the plates, and it was a good thing your back was turned or you might have seen the way Jungkook almost dropped the cutlery all over the floor.
Later that day you were busy finishing up with another customer, carefully placing the cakes you had finished icing this morning into her basket.
“Fourteen gold pieces, please. I hope the party goes well, I can’t believe he’s seven already,” you remarked as you placed the coins into the blue register. The two of you gushed over her adorable son, who peeked at you over the top of the counter, and you quietly slipped him a small cookie while his mother wasn’t looking. He shyly thanked you, and you were so enraptured in his chubby little cheeks that you didn’t notice the way all conversations around the bakery fell silent for a moment. The little bell on the door rung, signifying someone had entered and you noticed the movement in the corner of your eye but ignored it in favour of waving goodbye to the little boy. He waved cheerfully in return, a small bite already taken from the biscuit, his other hand clasped in his mother’s and you sighed. Children were something you’d wanted for a while, but you tried not to dwell on it as you wiped away the crumbs left on the counter.
After a moment you grabbed your notepad from the pocket of your apron, rounding the counter and making your way to the table where the new patron had seated themselves moments ago. However, you stopped abruptly when you recognised him as the man who had left you the flower not long ago. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in his profile. He settled into his chair, leaning back and hooked an ankle over his knee so his legs were comfortably crossed, and the movement accentuated the slight bulge of his crotch.
He placed a book on his lap and flicked through the pages, his hand coming up to adjust the thin wire spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose which had slipped a little, and from where you were standing you could see he had a little freckle on the tip. What was it with handsome men and having a cute little freckle? Jungkook had one under his lip which he often grumbled about being there, but you often told him it was rather endearing.
His tongue darted out to wet the tip of his finger and he smoothly flipped the page, the movement definitely drew your eye. Fuck, even his hands were beautiful, now you were nervous and your feet seemingly glued on the spot. The tip of your pen tapped against your little notepad, leaving small dots on the paper and you muttered angrily at your fidgeting. What were you so nervous for? He was just another customer, he never even told you his name. You took a tiny step forward, only to stop when you saw a young lady take a seat opposite him.
Large doe-like eyes suddenly stopped in front of you, Jungkook’s mouth parted as he stared at you in confusion, that freckle now right in front of your eyes. “Noona? Are you okay?” He asked, a hint of concern evident in his tone. Your eyes dropped as you snapped out of your slight stuper, only to land on the swell of his bicep as he carried a tray filled with freshly baked bread. God, what was wrong with you?
“Yeah of course! I just, um...realised something. Would you mind seeing if table four needs anything?” You risked a glance around Jungkook’s large frame, only to lock eyes with the man you’d just been staring at. The alluring chocolate colour of his eyes sent a jolt down your spine, and you jumped back behind your assistant. To make things less awkward you snatched the first thing that was in your sight as Jungkook moved away to place the tray down. You happened to grab the cloth you were just using thankfully, beginning to frantically wipe the side of the counter. God you were so stupid. Of course he was a complete flirt, he’d only been in town a few days and was already drawing in multiple women, yourself included, with his deceptive charm.
You picked up a basket to wipe away at the crumbs underneath, but as you were putting it down a throat cleared beside you. The leather shoes that came into your view looked expensive, and your stomach dropped. As you lifted your gaze the curious expression on his face made you suck in a tiny breath, and unable to look away you dropped the basket back onto the counter. Unfortunately, it was too close to the edge and began tipping over, he surged forward suddenly to attempt to steady it behind you, effectively pinning you against the counter with his form. You gasped when suddenly his cologne bombarded your senses with warm, spicy cinnamon and...apples? The likely expensive scent made your knees feel weak, and the warmth of his arms pressed into your sides had your heart racing. His efforts were in vain, however, as the basket toppled to the ground, and small bread rolls scattered across the floor.
The tip of his nose brushed against your scalp, and he hummed pleasantly. “Your hair smells lovely today, Miss (Y/N),” he observed, and you swear your heart was about to give out from how rapidly it was thundering in your chest. So he noticed.
“Oh, thank you Mr…”
“Taehyung. Mr. Kim if you please, but Taehyung will do just fine.” Even as he spoke ever so casually, he made no move to step back.
His gaze dropped to your heaving chest as you were breathless from the proximity and palpable tension. Suddenly, it occurred to you that the neckline you had picked today was rather low cut, the fabric around your bust a little strained with each breath you took.
You wanted to stay exactly where you were, quivering with excitement from being pressed right up against him. However, embarrassment got the better of you, a blush coming on strongly to your cheeks and you slipped out from the cage of his arms and kneeled to the ground. Thankfully, he couldn’t see your flushed state as you grabbed the pieces of scattered pastry. You felt unease rise within you when he crouched down beside you, dropping the bread back into the basket as well.
“Oh no, please don’t worry about that Mr. Kim. I can manage myself, besides this is my fault. Clumsy,” you scolded yourself quietly, shaking your head.
“No, it’s fine. I thought I might catch it but apparently my coordination is not as good as I thought,” he chuckled, silence filling the following moments as you continued to grab the bread. “You must keep pretty busy, huh? It’s a good thing you have your boyfriend to help you out.”
Your eyes widened at his assumption. “Oh-no no, Jungkook’s not-he’s not my boyfriend. Just my assistant,” you explained, feeling your cheeks heat up again as you avoided his gaze once the two of you were standing, no longer crawling around the floor. The counter was covered in crumbs and flakes from the bread and suddenly you were very interested in picking at them. “I’m far too old to be his girlfriend anyway.”
You couldn’t see the frown breaking out across Taehyung’s face, but as he opened his mouth to protest Jungkoook came striding over. “Noona, is everything okay? It’s not like you to drop good bread,” he questioned quietly, coming to stand just a little too close. The image of him acting like your guard dog came across your mind, hackles raised and ready to fight off any threats to his territory. You so wanted to be but you didn’t belong to either of them, they deserved much better. The young girl who was sitting with Taehyung only moments ago was looking over with concern at the tense atmosphere. Jungkook still stood uncomfortably close, silently challenging the man still standing in your personal space unabashedly.
“Yeah Kook, I’m good,” you replied, reaching out and gently patting his bicep. He looked at you suspiciously, not quite convinced but he nodded and slinked out the back anyway. Taehyung almost glared at Jungkook for another second before stepping back, however, he still stood quite close. Both of you hovered for a moment, you could sense he wanted to ask something. Not even a moment later, he did.
“The wedding this weekend, I was just wondering if you would be attending? Someone mentioned you were making the cake for it, among other pastries.”
“No,” you blurted out the obvious lie, all of a sudden taken aback by his question. Was he asking you out? The hairs on the back of your neck prickled as you sensed another pair of eyes on you, coming from his table.
“Oh,” he muttered, looking a little dejected. “So...you won’t be there? They’re friends of my family actually, so I’ll be in attendance.”
“No, sorry. I have another engagement, but Jungkook will be there!” You reiterated, not sure why you were lying to him. His expression soured momentarily, and another patron wandered up to the unattended counter. You were thankful for a way out and hurried away from the awkward conversation. He fidgeted with the brass button on his creaseless vest for a moment before slumping back into his seat. The nerve of that man! He had another girl with him, watching the whole thing unfold and he had the disrespect to practically ignore her. She certainly was beautiful, just like him. Definitely the type of woman that was more suited to him, rather than something so ordinary like you.
Jungkook came past just as you finished up with another customer, but you flagged him down before he could escape. “Oh Jungkook! I actually have a favour to ask of you…”
Stupid. That’s what you were. You sulked about the catering room, plating the little pastries for after the reception desert taking place soon. While you had an unmeasurable and intense focus when it came to your work, your passion, right now you couldn’t help but be on edge. The knowledge that Taehyung was around somewhere had your stomach churning with anxiousness at the thought of running into him, after blatantly telling him you wouldn’t be here.
At least, it wasn’t entirely a lie. You really thought you weren’t going to be here as Jungkook had eagerly agreed to be in your place right now. Part of you wanted to test what he wouldn’t do for you. However, when he came to tell you he’d actually been offered some photography work tonight you couldn’t help but notice the twinkle in his eye. That was something you couldn’t bear to take away from him. After you told him to accept the offer he halfheartedly protested, not wanting to disrupt your plans. But in truth you could tell he was disappointed he wouldn’t be able to go, and you weren’t having a bar of it.
So here you were, checking each iced flower on the tall wedding cake meticulously for any that had fallen off on the trip here. Every few seconds, however, you threw a glance over your shoulder for a certain Mr. Kim.
“Y/N!” Someone behind you exclaimed, the voice definitely male and you froze, slowly turning to prolong the inevitable. When the groom’s face was the only one you could see your shoulders slumped in relief and returned his smile. “It’s...it’s beautiful, thank you so much. You’ve made my fiance very happy. Oops, wife I should say!” He quickly corrected himself, cheeks flushed red no doubt from the champagne, the glass he held fully and freshly bubbling.
“It’s certainly my pleasure. While I love baking itself there’s something so special in seeing where my goods go,” you observed, peeking out into the main hall where everyone sat about finishing the main course. “However, my work here is done I think.”
Right as you finished speaking the bride wondered in looking for her now husband, the moment their eyes met a giddy smile broke out on both their faces. The action caused your heart to clench in your chest as she reached out and slotted her hand into his awaiting palm. He drew it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles and she looked away with a grin, suddenly noticing you standing there.
“Oh, Y/N! Are you leaving? Already? Won’t you stay for a drink?”
“I-um...maybe not.” You chewed on your lip. “I really must be going.”
“Just one drink, please?” She insisted, taking the glass from her husband and pushing it into your hand. When she pouted at you in such a way, it was hard to say otherwise.
Well... just one drink won’t hurt.
Two hours and definitely more than one glass of champagne later, you finally bade your farewell. A gust of chilly air rushed past you as you made your way outside, making you grip your arms where goosebumps were forming. God you wished you brought your jacket, how could you have forgotten? At least it was cooling down your cheeks which were flushed bright red and warm from the alcohol you’d had. There was no way you were driving home this evening, you’d have to call for a driver. Or perhaps you could walk as it wasn’t too far. Deciding the latter would be sufficient - and cheaper, not to mention - you set off in the direction of your bakery, weaving around the pedestrians on the footpath.
Other than the wind that picked up and drew a shiver from you, you began to think this wasn’t so bad - until your intoxicated form stumbled on an uneven paving stone. You hit someone square in the back, grabbing the back of their coat to steady yourself as you garbled a hundred apologies. By some miracle the man didn’t fall down and you thanked the heavens, only to take it back as he turned to look at your flustered face.
Low and behold, there stood the very man you were trying to avoid. Kim Taehyung.
“Miss (Y/L/N)? Well, what a pleasant surprise,” he said with a smirk, while embarrassment burned a hole right through you. “What brings you here?” Of course it was just your luck you’d bump into him - literally - right as you were almost out of there. He looked delectable as always, dressed head to toe in finely tailored clothing. His pants were pressed with a perfect crease down the middle of each leg, fine jacket fitting his broad shoulders perfectly. The hat he was wearing, however, captured your attention and you almost forgot he asked you something.
“Oh! I... um... well, you see, I-,” you managed to get out. Words! Use words you fool, you scolded yourself internally. Something about the man in front of you rendered you speechless, yet he only gave you a small smile and waited patiently for you to find your words, stepping back a bit and slipping his hands into his pockets.
Still, your mind remained blank. The hilarity of the situation hit you and a giggle bubbled forth from your lips. You smacked your hand over your mouth, feeling your cheeks flush with warmth from the numerous glasses of champagne you’d downed. Taehyung looked at you with an endearingly curious expression, brows furrowing with a chuckle.
“And what, pray tell, is so funny?” He asked quirking an eyebrow, the fact that you failed to answer him did not go unnoticed. You tried to speak but only more laughs came out until your shoulders were shaking with the action, tears welling in your eyes.
“Your hat is very funny, why is it so strange? It’s lopsided, and flat. What’s this little thing on top?” You reached up to flick at it, not realising how close you had gotten until you softly bumped into his solid frame.
“Woah, easy there (Y/N).” The words were whispered huskily right into your ear as he steadied you, and you found yourself trembling from his touch as you were caught off guard. “Wouldn't want you to trip and hurt yourself, now would we?”
“N-No, of course not,” you replied, flustered and he eyed you carefully. After a moment he released your arms to shuck off his jacket, and before you could blink it was dropped around your shoulders. The material felt expensive and warm and the delicious smell of his cologne filled your senses, the spicy scent of toasted cinnamon causing you to turn to putty.
“It’s cold tonight,” he observed, looking up to the cloudless sky. You followed his gaze, admiring all the bright stars twinkling in the twilight. This moment was something you wanted to treasure forever, where you stood thinking about nothing but now nice the sky looked and a beautiful man had offered you his jacket to keep you warm. Alas, it had to end eventually. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
His words brought you rushing back to reality, and you looked at him suddenly. “Oh, I was just going to walk but I can call for a driver it’s fine, rea-”
One stern look from him had you shrinking back into the jacket, he was not taking no for an answer and you nodded sheepishly. The hairs on the back of your neck stood to attention as a cold shiver gripped your bones, only intensified by an icy gust of wind. His hand slid across your shoulders, pulling you into his warm side as he guided you in the direction of where he must be parked.
Being the gentleman he was, he opened the passenger seat door for you, and once you were safely in he slipped into the driver's seat. There was a long stretch of comfortable silence as he started the ignition and smoothly pulled out onto the road, his hand not on the steering wheel resting dangerously close to your thigh.
“The hat, it’s called a beret. My younger sister bought it for me while she was studying in France, I should have introduced her the other day.”
“The... other day? Have I seen her before?”
“Yes, in the bakery when our little... accident happened,” he reminisced with a small chuckle, once again finding amusement in your embarrassment.
Suddenly it dawned on you, the young girl he was sitting with when he came over to talk to you. That was his little sister. You were glad he didn’t, seeming as though you’d just made an absolute fool out of yourself in front of her. No wonder she looked so beautiful, they came from the same pool of blessed genes. Silence filled the rest of the journey, and before you knew it the car was no longer moving, Taehyung was opening your door for you again and you stepped out.
The heavy material of his jacket slipped from your shoulders and you handed it back to him as another chilly gust swept past. He accepted it gratefully, putting it back on immediately and shoving his hands back into his pockets. Well, it was now or never you decided.
“Would you… like to come in for a drink?” You offered before you could psych yourself out.
“I don’t really…” he trailed off and immediately you feared you had been too bold.
“Oh. That’s fine, no trouble at all,” you murmured dejectedly.
“I mean, I don’t drink alcohol. Not if I can help it, I don’t find the taste very pleasant. That and I don’t hold myself well. Some tea would be much appreciated, though,” he proposed.
“Yes… yes, of course. It would be nice to warm up a little.” Uncertainty hung in the air, looming over your head for a moment too long before he nodded.
“That would be very nice, thank you.”
Your hands fumbled with the keys, loud jingling making you wince as you missed the lock a few times. At this point you’d sobered up quite quickly, the shake of your hand being caused by your nerves betraying you instead of the champagne. It had been quite a good hour since your last glass and you were no longer feeling the effects. Taehyung’s warm hand closed over yours, steadying your shaking fingers and your breath hitched as the metal key slid smoothly into the lock. It was relatively dark and you were glad only the faint light of the streetlamp guided you as you cracked the door open, trembling in anticipation of what was to come. The two of you slipped inside the dark bakery, shoulders brushing as you turned to shut the door and lock it behind you.
“So… what do you fancy?” You asked, turning to look at his figure which looked all the more enticing half in the shadows. “A cup of tea? Some chocolate croissants, perhaps?”
He only shook his head slowly, taking a step toward you. “What do I fancy, you ask? Well...you.”
“M-me?” You asked, your insides doing a flip in excitement.
“Yes. You like croissants? I bet you’d love Paris, so many incredible pastry chefs there, among… other things.”
“Oh?”
“It’s a very romantic place, I could take you one day? I’d like that… ” he trailed off and you blinked quickly, unable to look away from his gaze.
“Not just for the pastries?”
“Not just for the pastries, petal.”
He backed you up against the now locked door, eyes piercing yours with an intensity that made your abdomen clench; however, there was something else in his eyes. Something softer, and you felt that sweetness in the way he ever so slowly pressed against you. The first brush of his lips against yours was not hurried and needy like you expected it to be, and when he pulled away you felt an ache in your heart so strong it left you breathless.
“Taehyung…” you whispered, breaths beginning to grow heavier as your nerves dissipated to be replaced by lust and longing. He whispered your name back, before sweetly capturing your lips once more, his tongue demanding entrance to explore your mouth which you easily granted. Your fingers fisted in the lapels of his jacket, creases forming in the perfectly ironed material as the feeling of his tongue forcing yours into submission drew a moan from you. A large hand cupped the back of your head so you didn’t hurt yourself as he pressed you harder against the door, the kiss growing hungrier with each lave of the hot, wet muscle. You guided him back, shuffling blindly around, neither of you daring to interrupt your locked lips or even take a breath. Your back bumped into the counter and finally you broke apart for air, looking at your surroundings, somehow you’d ended up behind the bakery counter.
Taehyung’s hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you flush to him, and the action drew a gasp from you as you were pressed right up against his solid, throbbing length. The searing heat of it could be felt even through the layers of clothing that still separated your flesh, and your pelvic floor clenched around nothing in retaliation. Suddenly his hold on you tightened and he hoisted you smoothly onto the counter with very little effort. Now that you were at his level he wasted no time in getting right back into it.
“I wondered why it is that you haven’t been swooped up by anybody yet,” he mused between the breathless kisses you’d been enraptured in, fingers still gripping at your soft flesh through the thin material of your dress.
“There are plenty of other-mmf, pretty and young women in this town, certainly more attractive than I am. Why me?” you whispered against his lips, still pinching yourself that this was really happening. God, it’s been so long since you’d been with a man. His kisses trailed down your jaw, the warmth of his lips pressing into your sensitive neck.
“Hmm, I suppose,” he hummed, pausing to nibble on the spot just below your ear and you tipped your head back to allow him easier access. “They are very much like flowers, blossoming under the male attention they so desperately crave. They’re only pretty to look at, but that’s it. They might as well be just an accessory. Whereas you, sweet thing, are so much more.”
“B-But... I’m a bit older than you. Doesn’t that bother you?”
“Not at all, I really don’t give a shit noona. If that’s something that really matters to people, then they’re shallow and can’t see past something that’s really not that significant.” He growled right into the shell of your ear, his nimble fingers finding the easiest way to remove your dress. You thanked the heavens that you normally close the blinds when you lock up, because Taehyung made quick work of stripping your clothes from your body.
You slid off the counter to kick off the garments that had pooled around your hips, throwing them away into an unknown corner of your shop. Goosebumps arose across your bare skin, and Taehyung’s seized the soft flesh of your hips, hand kneading and moulding, pulling you flush against his hardened cock. He was so warm, and he let out a strangled groan as you reached down to palm him over his trousers. At your coaxing, his cock only seemed to swell further, impossibly large now and he rocked in your hand for friction. The tug on his foreskin only made him moan more, and you were enjoying the way he let his guard down. His mouth found its way to your bare shoulder, sucking pink marks along your neck and collarbone so he quieted somewhat.
You whimpered when his hands moved down to grab the globes of your ass, groping them and pulling the cheeks apart. Cool air hit your dripping centre and you whined louder, clenching around nothing again. Taehyung relinquished your neck to stand to his full height, smirking at your flushed and needy expression. His eyes trailed down to drink in your naked skin, but he was still fully clothed. Feeling a little exposed, you moved to cover up your bare body. After all, you had a sweet tooth and you did pack a few extra pounds as a result of that. Most of the time you didn’t care, however, in this moment you were particularly caught off guard and feeling a little self conscious.
“Uh uh uh, I don’t think so sweetheart,” Taehyung purred, grabbing your hands that were snaking up your torso. “Don’t you dare hide yourself from me, not when you’re this beautiful.” He hoisted you back up onto the counter hastily, almost knocking over the jars of toppings and chocolate syrups you had left there. His hand snatched the glass bottle that almost fell, and he smirked like the cat that got the cream. “Caught it this time.”
Without warning he dropped the bottle on the bench and swooped down. His mouth closed over your nipple, hot and wet and you moaned at the feeling, hands coming up to bury themselves in his golden curls. Taehyung nipped and swirled his tongue around the peak with a growl that grew louder the harder you pulled on his hair, giving you no warning before switching over to the other one. Lithe fingers snaked up to pinch and twist your spit-slicked nipple, making you squirm underneath him. Now that both aching peaks were being lavished with attention you squirmed, no lover had ever spoiled you this much and it made you all the more eager to touch him too.
Your hands gripped at the lapels on his expensive jacket, uncaring if it would tear as you attempted to push it off his wide shoulders. He laughed softly against your chest as you whined, straightening up to slowly shuck the garment from himself, never taking his eyes off your heaving chest that was shiny from his ministrations. He peeled off his top half, tugging at his dress shirt until each button popped open slowly revealing smooth honey toned skin to your hungry eyes. Your fingertips reached out to smooth over his chest, bringing little goosebumps to the surface. He had such a lovely body, his pecs firm and full, yet the most delicate and defined collarbones you’d seen on a man. Taehyung’s shoulders were broad with a thick, vascular neck you just wanted to sink your teeth into, and to top it all off his jawline was chiseled like a work of art. Your palms trailed higher and you sat up so you could run them over the expanse of his shoulders and upper back. He shuddered at your ever so gentle touch; fingernails raking featherlight down his back, drawing a soft moan from his lips which you swallowed with your own. You dragged your nails over his hips and dipped the tip of your finger into his navel. He flinched at the action, his stomach clenching away. When you ran your palms over his abdomen he broke the kiss abruptly, turning his face to the side. He didn’t have the most defined stomach, yet you didn’t mind one bit.
“Taehyung, you don’t have anything to be ashamed of either,” you pressed a kiss into his jawline. “You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen,” you whispered into his skin. Except for Jungkook something in the back of your mind quipped back and a small sense of guilt arose within you. You knew he felt jealous of your interest in Taehyung, but that was something that could be dealt with another time.
The man standing in front of you turned back and pressed his lips to yours again, groaning when your hand slipped past the waistband of his underwear to grip his bare length. It throbbed as you gave it a few experimental strokes, satisfied at the way he let out an animalistic groan. His hand suddenly gripped your thigh, and he smothered you with his form until you had to let go of his length and lay back. His fingertips were likely leaving indents in your flesh but you didn’t care, not when he was so close to where you desired him most. “Please,” you whimpered breathlessly. His fingers parted your thighs, swearing softly when he touched your folds to instantly have his fingertips coated in your arousal. He paused, lifting them up to inspect them unabashed, drawing his fingers apart to look at the strings of slick.
“Fuck. You want me that badly, huh? Such a good girl, so wet and eager for me.” His words made you clench, and he definitely felt it as he lightly ran his fingers through your soaked folds, admiring the way they glistened. Taehyung easily sunk two fingers knuckle deep into your heat, crooking them to seek out that sweet bundle of nerves. Needing to feel his lips on yours again you whined while leaning forward, begging him with your eyes. Quickly he obligated, ever the attentive lover.
After a while your clit was throbbing, crying for his attention. He reached over into one of the jars next to the display cabinet, which you used to touch up any pastries that needed more powdered sugar. A generous amount gathered on the top of his thumb when he dipped it in, and before you could realise what he was doing that same thumb was planted firmly on your pearl of nerves.
“Taehyung! Mmf, oh my god. That feels so good but you’re gonna give me a yeast infection, fuck.”
“Mmm, not if I lick you clean.” He swooped down, tongue lapping at the now gooey sugar that had somewhat dissolved with your wetness. He suckled at your juices, tongue swiping through your folds against his fingers that were still buried before he trailed up to your clit. His lips pulled the little bud into the hot, wet cavern of his mouth, the nibbling teeth causing your hips to jump at the stimulation. God, his tongue felt like heaven and sin all at once, never before had anyone made you feel this good. Certainly, you’d been missing out in all your previous experiences. His hand reached out, grabbing the bottle of chocolate syrup you’d left on the counter, and he looked over to see what other sweet concoction he’d found.
“Mmm, perfect. Open wide sweetheart,” he smirked. Confused, you opened your mouth slightly to which he found most amusing. His fingers withdrew and you whimpered in complaint before your knees were gripped firmly and pushed apart, spreading your legs wide open for him to see. He drizzled a little of the chocolate syrup onto your glistening folds, a few drops sinking into your entrance. The bottle was quickly dropped onto the counter and his tongue was quick to follow the droplets, shoving the appendage deep into your pussy to chase any of the chocolate before it got away from him. “Fucking hell,” he groaned against your cunt, voice muffled. “This is definitely the best thing I have ever tasted in my entire life. I feel like I could die right here.”
With each delve of his muscle you could feel your skin prickling with heat and anticipation or the climax that was beginning to build. Your neglected nub was once again attacked by lashes of his tongue as he pushed his fingers back in, now intent on watching you fall apart. “That’s it petal, good girl. Come for me, that’s it.”
Without mercy he suckled on your clit and your legs shook as that tension began to release, waves of pleasure spreading through your whole body. No noise came forth from your lips for a few seconds, however you quickly broke that silence and cried out loudly with each wave of your high, Taehyung’s fingers still thrusting to draw out your orgasm.
“Please,” you whimpered, looking up at him almost in tears.
“Please what? Use your words,” he growled, already pulling at his belt and letting his pants and underwear fall around his ankles. “What do you need, tell me sweetheart.”
“Need your cock. Please please Taehyung, I want it so bad.” His hand that was soaked with your juices reached down to fist his hardened length, a few drops of precum dripping onto your abdomen. He groaned loudly at the sight, at the way your eyes twinkled in want when you looked at his throbbing appendage. “I want… god I want to suck you off so bad, but I fucking need you. Now.”
The thought of it had him swearing softly, imagining you on your knees before him. He almost came there at the thought of sinking his cock in between your pretty lips, feeling the back of your warm, wet throat constricting him like the perfect girl you were. However, you looked so beautiful spread out across the counter, he’d rather keep you right where you were. Besides, he was so worked up, he really didn’t need your first impression to be of him finishing too early. “Another time, my sweet. Right now I just really need to be inside you.”
To emphasise his point, the head of his cock ran through your glistening folds, the friction on your clit causing your legs to twitch in overstimulation. “Kim Taehyung, if you don’t put your dick in me right n-oh!”
Your sentence turned into a gasp as the tip of his dick pushed at your entrance, and the first inch sunk in with a little resistance from how much your walls tried to clamp down, welcoming the intrusion. He bent down over the top of you, possessively capturing your lips with his as the rest of his length split your walls, sinking in to the hilt. It was like heaven, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t wondered what being stretched by his girthy cock would feel like. As if he couldn’t be any more perfect, of course he had to be so well fucking endowed. It almost hurt how big he was, you noticed as your pussy fluttered and clenched around him. Almost.
Moments passed where both of you simply panted heavily, his face buried into the crook of your neck. “One second, just give me one second or I swear I’m gonna cum. You feel like fucking heaven, noona.” You nodded, incapable of coherent words in that blissful moment.
“Such beautiful tits,” he groaned as his mouth sucked marks across your collar bones, lips seeking out a peak to torment once more. “Tell me, sweet thing. Who’s tits are these?”
“Yours, Tae. Oh god, they’re all yours.” Came your breathy moan, the strands of his honeyed hair tickling your skin as he dragged his face over to the other nipple.
“Good girl,” he quipped. “What about this pussy, hm?” To emphasise his question he slowly pulled his length from where it was buried in your cunt, driving it back in with an even slower thrust that had you keening desperately at the delicious burn.
“Yours, yours! Just fuck me, please!”
“Well, since you’re such a good girl who asked so nicely…” After a second he straightened up, hands gripping your hips tightly as he withdrew only to bury himself in your cunt again, hips smacking into the flesh of your ass from the force of his thrust. Once he could tell you had adjusted comfortably to his size he picked up the speed, beginning a much faster pace, the sound of skin slapping filling the otherwise quiet bakery. You threw your head back over the counter, the slight feeling of blood rushing to your head making the sensations of Taehyung’s cock all the more intense.
Neither of you heard the key opening the door, nor saw the figure that froze in the entry, unable to see anything from outside due to the drawn curtains. Jungkook's eyes were wide much like a deer caught in the headlights, drinking in every inch of your exposed skin. Your heaving breasts looked deliciously perky with the way your head was thrown over the counter, noises he’d only ever dreamed of hearing spilling forth from your parted lips. His shocked expression soured, however, when he realised it was Taehyung standing between your spread legs, his cock plunging into your centre and making your face twist in ecstasy. You hadn’t realised he was there yet, eyes closed and still making little mewls with each of Taehyung’s thrusts, now deep and slow, almost teasing you. The elder looked up and simply smirked once their eyes locked, just who he’d been hoping for. Taehyung was the obvious alpha male, and he could see the way Jungkook’s pants were already straining.
“Mmm, harder... please,” you cried out, ankles locking around Taehyung’s waist so he couldn’t stop what he was doing.
“You want me to fuck you harder, noona? You know ever since the first time I saw you, I’ve fantasized about taking you nice and hard over this quaint little countertop. Have you, noona? Or perhaps you’d been too busy fantasizing about your little assistant, hm? You’d love to have him fuck you like this you dirty girl, isn’t that right? Answer me, or I’ll stop.” He teased, voice becoming a little strained with heavy breaths. His eyes were still locked on Jungkook, mocking the astounded boy.
“Oh god, yes. Fuck yes I’d love to have Kookie fuck his noona like this, oh fu-I think I’m gonna come again Tae.”
“Already? Are you gonna come thinking about Kookie?”
“Yes, hng-ughh Tae, and you! Gonna come, o-oh, because of you!” You cried, each syllable growing in volume the closer you grew to your orgasm.
“Go on noona, show me how much you love my cock,” he permitted, thumb coming back to your clit to pinch and rub the bundle of nerves, pushing you toward your climax. Right as you began to peak, he hooked your legs over his shoulders and began furiously pounding into you. The new angle and pace had you hurtling into a powerful, leg shaking orgasm which made Taehyung curse. You looked so beautiful, and you had a little audience for him to show off to. You were screaming so perfectly, perhaps you secretly knew Jungkook was watching the whole exchange.
When you came down from your high, panting and swearing softly he pressed a kiss to the inside of your leg. “You’re so pretty when you come, my lovely. Don’t you think so, Jungkook?”
Your eyes flew open to see an upside down, very shocked Jungkook. The two of you were at a standstill for a moment, before you quickly tried to sit up and cover yourself. Taehyung’s hand was gently pushing you to lie back down, he suddenly leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Noona, (Y/N) darling. Don’t you want sweet little Kookie to join us? You want to suck him off while I fuck you nicely, hmm?” His words sounded so sweet, and you clenched around him at the very thought. He chuckled, that was just about all the confirmation he needed. However, he waited until you nodded, not going ahead without your clear consent.
When Jungkook saw you nod, he was in complete disbelief. You wanted him? His length throbbed painfully in the confines of his pants, feeling so tight it might almost rip through the fabric. Despite being upside down, you could still clearly see the outline of the colossal bulge.
“Come here,” Taehyung barked, tutting in annoyance when the younger man still seemed to be rooted to the spot, too stunned to move. “Jeon, I suggest you move your ass if you want your dick sucked.” At his words Jungkook snapped out of his stupor, eagerly striding over to stand above you.
The younger man was impatiently undoing the buttons on his pants, pulling them down and grabbing the back of his shirt and yanking it over his head, forgoing the buttons altogether. His length sprung forth, already looking angrily red and leaking copious amounts of precum.
The temptation to taste him was too strong, and you stretched your neck to run your tongue along his dripping cock, pressing sloppy kisses, all the while looking up at him with innocent yet sultry eyes. He swore softly at the sight, pulling back to allow your lips to envelop the head of his cock, tongue swirling around his slit to gather the salty drops which kept leaking. He whimpered loudly, finally knowing what it felt like to sink his cock between his noona’s lips. You relaxed your gag reflex, eyes raking up his body. He was definitely a sight to behold, a sheen of sweat already glazing his glorious chest, making his abs - seriously, how did this boy have them - even more drool worthy. Although you were already drooling.
His eyes were glued to your mouth, and the way it easily took his cock with each gentle thrust, he was careful not to make you gag. Although, you had other ideas. Your hands sneaked up, gripping the flesh of his bare behind as you relaxed your throat, feeling his hips jerk as he slid in the rest of the way and bottomed out. He groaned, whole body shuddering in pleasure, unable to stop his hips from jerking forward to chase the euphoria he found between your lips. The rather hard thrust had you choking a little, eyes tearing up but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when Jungkook was being so vocal, moaning and cursing so much you were sure anyone outside could hear. When you gagged again, inhaling deeply through your nose he pulled back, giving you a small reprieve and letting you breathe through your mouth. It was at the moment the man standing between your legs, who had been enjoying the show decided it was time to remind you of his presence.
You cried out sharply when Taehyung’s throbbing length buried itself into your sopping heat once again, the movement jolting you and causing Jungkook’s cock to sink back into your throat. He began to swear as both men thrust into you, using your body to get themselves off. Hungrily, like he thought he might never get the opportunity to witness this again, Jungkook’s eyes raked over your soft body. The way your breasts bounced with every thrust, nipples stiff and slick from his elder’s mouth. Then your wonderful thighs, rippling each time Taehyung drove his hips into them. Jungkook always knew you would have such a beautifully soft body, he just wanted to knead you with his hands and run his tongue over every inch, every curve you had. There was so much slick shining on the inside of your thighs, loud squelch noises from each time Tae’s cock pushed into you. He wasn’t going to last much longer, not with the way moaned and swirled your tongue around his length.
After a few minutes Taehyung could feel how you were clamping down on his cock again as it dragged against your sweet spot with each thrust, you were getting close once more. His own pleasure twisted sharply in his abdomen, tightening dangerously quickly. The pad of his thumb pressed down on your clit once more, rubbing furious circles to get you to finish before he did. “One more, I want you to come one more time for me, noona. For us.”
Your climax came to a peak and you squealed, Jungkook’s length popping out of your mouth to make way for the wails of pleasure as your legs shook. You reached out to pump him in your hand, and the sound of your moans as you came was all it took for Jungkook to swear and suddenly he was coming too. You took him back in your mouth quickly, grabbing his hips and pulling him so his cum spurted to the back of your throat.
“Fuck! Oh my-oh fucking hell noona, oh,” he all but yelled, whole body trembling as he climaxed.
Suddenly Taehyung could hold on no longer either, he stilled and you moaned louder as warmth flooded deep inside you as he came, your pussy clenching unconsciously at how good it all felt. Jungkook whined in overstimulation when he pulled out, but your lips drew the top of his cock back into your mouth to suckle at the remains of his salty release, the sensation of your tongue lapping against his frenulum almost too much for him.
He pulled out, your tongue licking your lips to collect any remains as you bathed in post orgasm bliss. Taehyung’s cock softened, slipping out of your swollen pussy as the three of you panted, catching your breath.
Jungkook leaned on the bench, looming over you and he flashed a hopeful smile. The same that made your heart flutter so innocently each morning, the slightest glimmer of potential for something more between you two. However, you’d just sucked him off while another man fucked you.
Now that the hazy headspace had cleared, embarrassment came forth unbridled and you couldn’t stand to be around a moment longer. You slipped off the counter, wobbly legs barely able to support you as you hastily picked up your clothes. It seems that Taehyung had the same idea as he was quickly dressed, buttoning up his shirt and snatching his jacket up off the floor.
“Well…” he began with, looking between the three of you. “Looks like you two have something to talk about. I’d best be going, see you around.” With that, he was out the door. Gone. It brought your memory back to the first time you’d met him, watching him walk out of the door. Things had been so much more simple then, when you weren’t sleeping with two men at once. You didn’t waste another second dwelling in the awkward tension between you and Jungkook as you rushed upstairs without another word.
The next three weeks were awkward to say the least. Conversation was somewhat scarce between both yourself and your assistant, and you feared you’d forever ruined your relationship with him. Jungkook was barely conversing with you, and whenever it was necessary he gave one word answers at best.
It was now that you realised he always used to say things such as let me do it, or I made extra of your favourite. It was in the small things, the everyday gestures that your feelings began to steadily blossom, nothing like the grand and unrealistic romance you so desired. Now Jungkook felt so far away, perhaps he despised you now. All because you had to be stupid and greedy, turning a blind eye to the blessing that was right in front of you all along and pursuing someone you have convinced you were good enough for.
Since that night, Taehyung had not been back to the bakery.
In fact, you had not heard from him at all. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t shed a tear or two over it, after how sweet he’d been in the beginning. The larger part of your conscience, the more irrational part urged you to wait around like a stupid damsel in distress. Hoping that maybe he would walk back in through that door with the little jingle of the bell and make you smile like the idiot you were, pretending nothing had ever gone wrong. But the more rational part wanted to beat that other part to a pulp, it was far more likely that he had been sweet, like honey for one reason. To lure you in like the silly little fly you were, walking right into his web. How many other girls had he been with in three weeks? Was that really his sister, or did he just tell that to women he’s luring in to make them let their guard down? Just like you had.
The sun was shining and the birds were chirping, it was a perfect day, but strangely a little warm. Beads of sweat rolled down your temple, and you wiped them away with the back of your arm as your hands were covered in flour and dough. God, it was unusually warm this morning.
You turned around from your workstation, looking for your rolling pin on one of the other benches. Incidentally your eyes met Jungkook’s and his gaze darted away abruptly, pretending to also look for something. Guilt gnawed at you, knowing that you had caused his embarrassment. After all, you confessed you wanted him in the way he wanted you and then proceeded to mope after Taehyung, not looking at him twice.
You took your anger out on the innocent dough, squashing it angrily between your fingers absent mindedly. You kept muttering see you around in a mocking tone before realizing it was now over kneaded. Great, now you had a suitor on the run, an assistant that was giving you the silent treatment, and your bread would be flat and overly tough. At least your favourite apricot jam would make it taste better, and you couldn’t help craving another serving you mused as you cleaned the sticky dough from your hands.
The delicious smell of the fresh bread wafted from the racks where they rested, and you sought out a tray that had mostly cooled. When you pulled it out, resting the heavy tray on your chest as you normally did, you yelped and dropped it on the bench with a loud bang. The apple that Jungkook had been about to chop skidded across the floor as he dropped it and rushed over to you.
“Noona! Are you alright?! What happened?!”
You gritted your teeth and breathed in through your nose, wincing at how unusually sore your breasts were. Jungkook reached for your cheek, and his hands in your face smelled strongly of apple juice, almost burning your nostrils with its potency. Sudden nausea gripped at your stomach, twisting your insides and making you feel queasy. You pushed past Jungkook and sprinted up the stairs, hearing Jungkook’s heavy footsteps right behind you. You barely reached the bathroom before you fell to your knees, heaving over the toilet bowl to empty your stomach.
“(Y/N)!” A distressed Jungkook cried out from the doorway before crouching down, hands still incredibly gentle as they reached to sweep your hair out of the way. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?!” An answer didn’t make it past your lips however, only more of your breakfast. Jungkook was audibly panicked, but still rubbed comforting circles on your back as you continued to throw up. “That’s it, get it all out,” he murmured.
Your mouth tasted foul and as soon as you stood up you were reaching for your toothbrush. He was glued to your side, picking up a cloth to wipe away at the vomit that was on your chin, still asking a million questions. Embarrassed, you waved him away even though the tender action made your heart squeeze. So he still cared? “I’m fine Kook, I just don’t know why I’m throwing up all of a sudden, I didn’t eat anything that was off…”
He was still insistent on fussing, telling you to go to the doctor if you couldn’t explain your sudden illness. You wondered back into the bedroom, wracking your brain for any inclination as to why it might me, thinking of your symptoms. Your gaze landed on your little clock on your dresser which displayed the date, eyes widening when things began clicking into place. Your period was also a week late, you had sore breasts and morning sickness. You slapped a hand over your mouth muffling the distressed whine that left your lips, words not coming to you at the moment from the shock.
You were pregnant.
Jungkook tentatively touched your shoulder making both of you flinch as the initial shock wore off, and the harsh reality of it came crashing over you. Your eyes flickered to Jungkook’s wide ones, concern evident at the tears brimming in your eyes. “Noona? (Y/N)? What’s wrong? Why... Why are you crying?” God, he was so innocent sometimes, of course he hadn’t caught on yet.
“K-Kook,” you all but whimpered, voice breaking from the way your throat constricted in an attempt to hold back the sobs. “I-... I think I’m pregnant,” came your confession, barely audible, but Jungkook’s ears picked it up well enough. You could barely look him in the eyes, your own watery with tears and you sounded so defeated.
He crushed you to his chest, his arms enveloping your frame in a warm hug, and you never wanted him to let you go. The sobs came forth unbridled now and you buried your face into the crook of his neck, drenching his shirt with your tears.
“Is it really such a bad thing?” He whispered to you between shushes. “Noona, you know I’ll always stick by you, right? No matter what. I’ll be here even if that bastard isn’t,” he murmured and you trembled all the more from his sweet words.
You pulled back so you could look him in the eye, offering a weak and watery smile. “Oh Jungkook, I really don’t deserve you.”
“Nonsense,” he chastised quickly, a warm thumb coming up to wipe away the wetness on your cheeks. “I really like you noona, like a lot.”
“I do too, Kookie. God, I’m so sorry,” you chuckled, pinching his dimple softly before burying your hand in your apron for a handkerchief. “I just thought, you know...you’d want to be with someone a bit closer to your a-”
Your words were cut off when Jungkook covered your mouth and nose with his own handkerchief, wiping away the snot and you had no doubt you looked a complete mess. Blubbering away and confessing your feelings to a younger man, knocked up by another.
“I don’t want to hear that, ever again. Okay? Besides I’ve been fantasizing about calling you my girlfriend for as long as I’ve been working for you. Do you have any idea how happy I am right now? I don’t care about not being the father of this child, as long as I have you by my side I know I can do anything.” He pecked your lips suddenly, prompting a brighter smile from you which warmed his heart to see you no longer upset about everything. You snaked your arm around the top of his shoulders, grinning as he brought your lips back together. You melted into his arms as you deepened the kiss, but he flinched back a bit.
“What? What’s wrong? Did I do someth-”
“No, nothing’s wrong it’s just...your mouth kinda tastes like vomit still. Sorry.” The two of you burst into laughter, a bit of lightness in the otherwise serious situation. You moved back into the bathroom to begin scrubbing your teeth clean while Jungkook, unable to relinquish you from his hands as if you’d disappear if he let go, kept rubbing comforting circles on your hips. He looked deep in thought. “I’ll get a hold of Taehyung, I promise. While I know you probably despise him right now, I think he has a right to know about the baby.”
Silently you nodded, uncertainty and nervousness swirling deep within your stomach. Jungkook was right, you should tell Taehyung but what would his reaction be? Would he be angry? God, he seemed so nice, so genuine. Maybe it really was just some elaborate plan to seduce you, how many other women had fallen prey to his charms you wondered. Perhaps this was not the first time a woman had tracked him down after being knocked u-
“(Y/N)? It’s alright, just don’t dwell on it okay?” His hands trailed up to rub your shoulders, drawing a long sigh from you. “We’ll make an appointment with the doctor first, yeah? Just to be sure. I’ll even come with you.”
You turned and buried your face into the crook of his neck again, so over the moon to have such support. You don’t know what you did to deserve this, to deserve him.
“Do you think people would mind if we opened… a bit late today?” You asked him, fingers creeping up his chest to play with his collar as you looked at him suggestively.
He wrapped his muscular arms around your shoulders, giving you a soft squeeze. You whined at the action, causing your tender breasts to ache. In retaliation you reached down and groped the firm flesh of his behind. Instantly he bucked forward, seeking friction and pushing his quickly hardening length into your abdomen.
“You mean..” he gaped, beaming down at you with an expression so endearing and so excited it made you giddy. Firm hands found his chest, and you guided him back out of the bathroom and pushed him onto the bed, immediately tugging at the buttons on his work pants. His swollen cock sprung out immediately, already rock hard and dripping precum, so eager to finally bury itself in you completely.
He helped you to yank his trousers down quickly, shoes and all getting kicked off in a hurry. You swore you could hear his shirt tearing a little as he ripped it over his head, his hair becoming messed up in his haste Jungkook yanked you into his reach so he could strip you, much like a child at Christmas, uncaring about the poor wrapping paper and eager to get to his present. Fighting him would be useless with the way your eyes drank in his impressive physique.
Once you were completely bare you grabbed his shoulders, clambering on top of him and reaching between the two of you to grab his dick, running the leaking tip through your damp folds. As you sunk down a few inches you had to stop, the stretch from just how fat his cock was leaving you breathless for a moment. Tiny rocks up and down allowed your walls to adjust before you took a breath and bottomed out, Jungkook threw his head back, exposing his deliciously thick neck to your hungry eyes. The urge to mark it was far too strong, and you didn’t hesitate to bend forward to suckle on the skin, little red and purple marks blossoming.
You immediately got to work grinding your hips back and forth, only seeming to drive Jungkook even crazier. After a few minutes he pushed you to sit back up, the need to see your body again too much yet he couldn’t decide where to look. Your breasts swayed in his face with every rock of your body and it was so hard for him to resist bucking his hips upwards. The sight of your pussy lips swallowing every inch of his throbbing cock again and again was truly something to behold, and it felt a thousand times better. Or your beautiful face, contorted in the most blissful expressions, consumed by the pleasure. At a particularly loud moan you let out he thrusted up, grunting at the feeling of you clenching around him.
Jungkook seized your hips, planting his feet on the bed and began pounding his thick length into you without mercy. Caught off guard, you collapsed onto your hands at the sharp spike of pleasure in your belly, your cries muffled as you buried your face into Jungkook’s damp neck. He too smelled heavenly when you were this close, his natural woody musk overloading your senses with each sharp inhale of breath.
He sat up so you were face to face, the position rather intimate, but was quickly bending down to draw one of your nipples into his mouth, nipping softly. “Ah! Be g-gentle, please Kookie. They’re so sensitive right no-ow.”
“Mmm. Can’t wait ‘til they’re all heavy and swollen with milk, I bet you’d taste so sweet noona.” He practically growled, suddenly possessive at the thought.
“Kook! Oh my-oh god, harder. Please please harder baby. You gonna fuck your noona nice and hard?” You begged, running your fingers through the dark, curly locks on his head. Quickly he gripped your waist tighter and flipped you onto your back in an impressive show of strength, quick to re-acquaint you with the delicious stretch as his cock buried itself back inside you and resumed a brutal pace. He was a rather energetic lover it seemed.
“You feel so good noona, oh my god! Fuck I-I’m not gonna last much longer, not when I’ve wanted this for so long.”
“Ugh, it’s okay baby. I’m mfph almost th-there, oh!”
Your arms anchored themselves on his broad shoulders as you jolted from the force of his thrusts, one hand snaking up to thread into the dark hair at the nape of his neck and he whined louder between laboured breaths. Right as he let out a long high pitched moan you felt his whole body tremble, warmth gushing deep in your abdomen as he came. However, Jungkook was ever the soldier and continued on slamming his hips into yours and you finally tipped over the edge. Your walls clenched and fluttered, eyes rolling back into your head. Yet he still continued even as you felt the sticky mess of his cum getting pushed deeper with each thrust, more still filling you. The sounds you were making must have been bothering the neighbours, slapping skin and cries of ecstasy. But neither of you could help it because it had felt like heaven. God, why hadn’t you done this earlier?
When the waves of pleasure finally subsided he dropped onto his forearms, cock going limp and slipping out of your abused pussy.
“Noona.” His chest heaved with his efforts but he couldn’t resist nuzzling into the crook of your now sweaty neck, and your heart clenched with the affection. “That was amazing, so much better than I ever could have imagined. Well...have been imagining.”
“Jungkook, baby,” you breathed, panting heavily. “I’d love to stay like this forever but I’m gonna dirty the sheets, can you grab me a washcloth from the bathroom please?”
He pecked your cheek and sprung up immediately, kicking off his pants that still clung to one leg so they wouldn’t trip him and headed toward the bathroom. Your eyes dropped to his bare behind and you all but drooled, it truly looked so much better without his pants obscuring the view.
“Or,” you began and he paused, turning back to you as you flipped on your side, attempting to strike a seductive pose. Rather it seemed he was the seductor, unknowingly posed like a Roman statue, his body half twisted in a way that accentuated all his best features while gravity accentuated your worst. However, his eyes raked over your figure, insatiable. “How about we just take a shower together? Save some water, hmm-oh Jungkook!” You squealed as he easily hoisted you up bridal style, pecking your lips.
“I think that sounds like a very good idea, shall we?” He asked, carrying you in the direction of the bathroom already sporting another semi.
Three weeks. You were three weeks pregnant, the life inside you so tiny yet had already become such a huge part of your life in just one day. Jungkook was still diligently stuck by your side, and earlier today he’d tried ringing Taehyung’s office to try and speak with him. However, he was told that the elder was not available. All that could be done was to leave a message with his secretary.
You pondered what he might say as the two of you walked arm in arm on your way home from the doctor’s office late in the afternoon. Again, two parts of you rationed with one another. He did just start a new job, perhaps that would explain his absence for almost a month.
Three days, the more rational part of you argued. It was a common rule you’d heard the women gush about over tea in your shop, that no suitor was too busy to contact you at some point in three days. If they didn’t then you simply weren’t a priority for them, not that it mattered anyway. You were loyal to Jungkook now, he was certainly a priority to you.
But there was something about Taehyung, the extent of his genuine nature was incredibly difficult to fabricate. It kept nagging at you in the back of your mind, to just wait, to give him the benefit of the doubt when he finally did come forward. Or maybe you were just being hormonal and making things up to comfort yourself. A distraction was what you needed.
You tipped your head back to breathe in the fresh air. The sky was dusted with a pretty pink and orange colour as the sun set, and you thought would make a nice picture.
“Oh, by the way. I never asked you about the job you got, taking photographs, did you have fun? It is what you came here for after all.” A heavy sigh followed from the man by your side, which definitely caught your attention. “Jungkook? What is it?”
“It was alright, I probably could have enjoyed it more. I just couldn’t help but feel really disappointed the whole time. I wanted to like it more but I just... couldn’t,” he trailed off with yet another deep sigh, his fourth this evening.
“What do you mean? Is it not what you want to do anymore?” You questioned, bringing your other hand to his arm to rub comforting circles. He shook his head, fumbling in his coat pocket for the keys and unlocking the door.
“No, it’s not what I want anymore. As a hobby I think it’s okay, but I’ve completely fallen in love with working here, with baking,” he paused before pushing the door open, turning back to you. “But most importantly, (Y/N). I’ve fallen in love with you. My beautiful noona.”
Your eyes sparkled with tears. “Oh, Jungkook. I-”
“You don’t have to say it back right away. Take all the time you need, I’d wait for you forever.”
He began to head inside but you grabbed his arm firmly, and he looked back at you with a startled expression. “I do, I absolutely do. The feelings, they’ve always been there but I’ve just been afraid to act on them. But... I do love you, more than you know.”
The pure expression of elation that spread across his face made your heart ache, and you just had to kiss it, to kiss him. He let out a little gasp of surprise when you grabbed his cheeks and pulled him to you, pressing your lips together. It was only when you let out a little shiver that he pulled away, ushering you inside and away from the nippy wind.
Now that you were significantly warmer you let out a long yawn, fatigue making your eyelids feel heavy. Jungkook pulled you to him again, pressing a kiss against your hair, the action would never cease to make your heart flutter. “I’ll lock up, you go upstairs to bed noona. I love you,”
“Goodnight Jungkook, I love you too,” you murmured back sleepily with a smile. Reluctantly you slipped out of his warm arms, making the treacherously long haul up to the first floor where your dwelling resided. Once he was sure you’d safely made it up the stairs, he fished around in his pocket for the keys, turning around to lock the door. However, he froze at the figure who stood looming in the doorway.
Taehyung.
You awoke later to the other side of the bed cold and empty, the feeling of a rough tongue licking at your cheek.You stirred with a groan, waiting for the grogginess to subside while you waved your cat away, hearing him pounce onto the floor and out into the kitchen. His demands to be fed grew louder and louder until you simply couldn’t ignore him, and you dragged yourself out of bed to the empty kitchen. Once Jiji’s bowl was filled and he was happily eating you noticed how quiet it was. That’s strange, where was Jungkook?
The clinking of silverware and a light on downstairs caught your attention. You scratched the back of your head in thought as you made your way down into the back room, but when you emerged at the bottom of the stairs you froze.
“Noona!” Jungkook suddenly exclaimed, rushing forth and the loud scrape of the chairs as both men shot up caused you to jump a little. You put our hand out to stop him approaching and he paused, your shock only grew when you noticed Jungkook was sporting a black eye, and he squirmed on the spot while you gawked at him. While you were concerned, you had something - well someone - more important to address. “Um… Taehyung is back… ”
“I noticed, Jungkook,” you gritted, trying to keep a strong front in front of them.
Moisture sprung to your eyes and it made Taehyung’s heart clench, seeing you look so similar to a cornered animal. One wrong move and you would likely bolt back up the stairs. You were frustrated with yourself because you didn’t expect to cry immediately, but seeing the father of your unborn child proved to affect you more than you thought it would.
“(Y/N)... ” He began, taking a small step toward you, his arms reaching out with the urge to comfort you. However, you gave him a dirty look which had Taehyung quickly retracting and not coming any closer. “I know you’re upset… and angry… and confused-”
“Correct,” you quipped.
“But there’s an explanation, I promise,” he pleaded, waiting with baited breath before you crossed your arms and gave a tiny nod heavy with trepidation. “I wanted to come and see you personally the following morning, believe me I truly did. But something happened with my father and the company, I had to go overseas urgently.”
“For almost a month? You couldn’t have at least written to me? A telegram? Even a goddamn smoke signal was too much effort for you?”
“I did! I wrote you a letter and left it here early in the morning before I left, I even put my return address on it so you could write back to me while I was away. I was waiting to hear from you, and the whole time I thought you’d gotten my letter and didn’t want to see me anymore, because of Jungkook.”
A tiny twinge of guilt arose within you, your gut instinct had been right. He had tried to do the right thing. “I’m sorry Taehyung, I didn’t get any letter from you.” You truly were apologetic, a part of you now wished that things had played out differently and you’d given him a chance. But you couldn’t change the past now, and Jungkook was rooted firmly in your heart. Besides, if you had to choose between the two, you’re sure you would never be able to come to a decision.
“I apologise for leaving so quickly that day, but I needed some time to think as it wasn’t just the two of us anymore. A third party had become...involved. But before I could see you in person again I had to go. Hopefully you’ll accept this,” he trailed off, gesturing to a small box on the table. Gingerly you slipped past him to pick it up, gasping when a small glass flower was inside. “When I was in Paris, I saw this in a shop window and immediately thought of you and the first time we met. Finally I got you a flower that won’t wither away and die.”
“Taehyung...it’s lovely, but I don’t really think it’s appropriate for me to accept gifts like this from you anymore. I love Jungkook now. Any contribution from you from now on should be for the b-” You stopped your words suddenly, did Jungkook tell him yet?
“The baby? My...baby. Yes. Jungkook told me.” His eyes flickered down to your stomach. “Oh (Y/N), I’m so sorry this happened to you. I’ll support you one hundred percent, I should have been more careful.”
“Well… we should have been more careful. But you’re not mad?” You questioned, chewing on your lip nervously.
“What?! Why would I be mad at you? I… God I just want to touch your stomach so bad. Can I? Please?” He practically begged, and you felt a laugh bubble up against your will. You’d never seen him pout before. Gently you grabbed his hand, guiding his large palm against the flat of your abdomen and unintentionally pulling him closer. At his proximity your heart rate picked up, old feelings stirring at the warm cinnamon you could smell on him. No, you couldn’t think of him that way anymore.
You diverted your gaze, instead making eye contact with your lover Jungkook while Taehyung rubbed soft circles on your stomach. Things would be… unconventional from now on, to say the least.
“I just...don’t want to miss out on this,” Taehyung whispered. “Watching your belly grow, feeling the little kicks. I don’t have a child yet, and I’ve always been so excited to be a father. But it’s a shame things turned out this way…”
“Which is why we wanted to talk to you (Y/N).” Jungkook suddenly piped up, having been unusually quiet and relaxed this whole time. “Hyung… I mean Taehyung and I have been speaking all night.”
“I got the message from him and came to see you as soon as I got back, only to watch you kiss him instead. I must admit I was incredibly jealous and originally I planned on talking calmly, but that’s not quite what happened. We started fighting, and then we started... kissing.” He admitted, looking slightly abashed. You, however, were utterly shocked and kept looking between the two trying to imagine such a thing.
“Wait...what?! You two kissed? Each other?”
“Well, yes and then it escalated.” Taehyung murmured with a smirk, peering over to Jungkook. He looked nervous, his hand coming up to touch the back of his neck. That’s when you saw it, many more marks peeking out from under his collar than what you’d left on him. “One thing turned into another and, we ended up having sex. Your table is wobbly now, sorry about that, but this kid’s stamina is no joke.”
Your jaw almost hit the ground, a whole mix of different emotions hitting you. The first being sorrow and betrayal, tears once more beginning to well in your eyes. But you quickly felt yourself growing angry, after all your partner had technically cheated on you with another man.
“Jeon Jungkook, you treacherous whore,” you snarled, rubbing your temples at the headache this confusion was bringing you. “I just have one question...why? I thought you two hated one another.”
“We just couldn’t see past the jealousy we both had over you. But once we actually started getting to know one another a bit more, we actually realised we have a lot in common and are willing to explore that further.” Jungkook explained. “I think the three of us could make it work, that way everyone is happy.”
“You mean… we’d all be together? You’re both okay with that? You actually like each other?” You questioned, to which they smiled and nodded. On the one hand, you would get to have what you’d secretly desired which was both men at the same time. The idea had your heart skipping a beat with excitement, thinking about all the sweet words they’d say, and soft mornings you’d share. How well you’d be taken care of, in many ways. But what if things didn’t work out? What if they grew too jealous and the relationship deteriorated? Apprehension weighed heavily in the air. However, if you never even gave it a shot you would never know what could have been.
“Noona? Do you need more time to think about it?” Taehyung asked gently. Did you? You looked up at both of them, their soft gazes making you feel like the most treasured woman in the world. Ever so subtly their hands brushed together, fingers intertwining. Something in your gut told you this was the right thing to do, and you reached up to take a hand in one of theirs.
“I’m willing to try.” You told them, biting your lip to soften the huge grin.
“Really?!” They both exclaimed in unison, eyes wide and you were suddenly tugged into their embrace. Uncontrollable giggles consumed you, and you pecked each of them on the lips.
“I have a feeling the three of us will go together like sugar, spice and everything nice.”
It was still rather early in the morning, the sun only very faintly peeking through the curtains in your bedroom window. Still, your body was beginning to make its demands known no matter what time it may be. Jungkook was warm against your back, his arm slung over your waist, and you couldn’t stop the way you squirmed and panted softly. God, you had woken up so aroused it was almost painful. At your excessive movement he pulled you tighter to him, and you gasped at the feeling of his morning erection pressing against the soft flesh of your behind. He grumbled something unintelligible into your neck but you didn’t care, you needed him right now.
“Jungkook,” you whined, turning to face him a little more. “Please baby, please.”
“Oh?” He definitely heard you loud and clear as he raised his head, but before he could even say more you threw your leg over his hip and began grinding your sopping apex against his clothed length. The angle was awkward but you didn’t care as it provided some well needed friction.
Immediately his hands gripped at your swollen breasts, fingers pinching your sensitive nipples through the thin fabric of your nightgown, and you cried out from the sudden pleasure. “God,” he growled in your ear. “You need me that much, huh? Can’t even wait until Tae gets here?”
“No, I can’t wait. I need you right fucking now Kookie, please.” There was desperation in your tone now, and you sounded like you were on the verge of tears.
“Alright noona, of course. You know I could never say no to you,” he whispered into your cheek, pressing a soft kiss there. His hands travelled further down your body, smoothing over your swollen tummy like he always loved doing. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this, aren’t you? So desperate for me, begging to be stuffed full of cock. I can’t wait until I can fill you up with my cum and get you nice and pregnant again, with my baby.”
You rolled over onto your knees, propping your weight on your forearms. Jungkook groaned at the sight it presented him with as your gown slipped down your back, your weeping cunt glistening with your arousal, so engorged and throbbing with your pregnancy. He shot up, coming to kneel behind you so he could get a closer look. Jungkook ran his thumb through your folds, cock aching at the way you clenched and whined. There was so much slick, he couldn’t believe how wet you were, a little leaking down and dripping onto the bed from his ministrations. You became pliant, pushing back against his fingers as far as your stomach would allow, desperately wanting him to bury them into you, anything to ease that empty feeling.
“Careful sweetheart, gotta make sure you and bub are okay first,” he murmured into your ear, hands smoothing over your stomach again as he placed a soft kiss on your shoulder. “Let’s take this off.”
His hands bundled up the bottom of your night dress, patiently waiting until you lifted each knee off the bed so it wasn’t caught and gently peeled it from your panting form. The cool morning air nipped at your exposed skin, every inch of you flushed hot. You leaned back, Jungkook’s chest plastered to you, your puffy nipples hardening quickly when Jungkook pinched them between his fingers. Milky droplets began beading and dripping down your front, drawing a long moan at the sensitivity of them.
“You’re so amazing, oh my god. Do you have any idea how often I’ve imagined you like this? So perfectly swollen and pregnant, so incredibly fertile. Breasts so soft and brimming with milk. You’re such a good girl for Hyung and I, you’re gonna let us fill you up again and again aren’t you?” He continued his groping while whispering filthy things in your ear, you were so worked up it was almost painful.
“I-If you keep doing that, uhh fuck Kookie, baby. I think I might come, oh.” At your whining he gave an extra hard pinch, and little droplets of white sprinkled across the bed sheets, some dripping down your chest onto your stomach. He relented for a second to tear off his pajamas in record time, giving you barely a second’s warning before the hardness of his scalding cock was sliding into the cleft of your asscheeks, a moan breaking out from him at how soaked it got. With one hand your fingers twisted in the bedsheets, the other trying to reach behind and line him up. However, he chuckled and gripped your wrist to stop you. So close yet so far, and you began muttering a sting of incoherent and almost hysterical gibberish, undecipherable other than the occasional please. Given how wet you were he easily sunk in, and it made the stretch of his girth a little more tolerable as he bottomed out with a curse. His teeth bit softly into the flesh of your bare shoulder and you whimpered loudly as he drew back to sink straight back in at a torturously slow pace, always giving you a few seconds to accommodate his thickness. The teasing was driving you near insane, but thankfully he had such a fat cock it still felt incredible. He was always so gentle to begin with, treating you as if you were fragile. However, as he said before he could never say no to you. Once you really whined and whimpered for him to go harder, boy did he give it to you.
He adjusted his hands on your soft hips, gripping them tighter so he could tug you back onto his length as he began slamming into you. Loud slaps filled the room as his pace quickened, pounding eagerly from behind and you wailed, this angle always making him feel so much deeper than usual. “You just get more beautiful everyday, ugh,” Jungkook huffed in your ear, voice strained from the feeling of your velvet walls gripping him eagerly.
Your softness dug into his hip bones as his thrusts grew more powerful, his incredible thighs flexing with the brutal pace he set. Pleasure twisted in your abdomen acutely, the pressure building up easily with your swollen belly. “Jungkook, I’m gonna come already. You feel so good baby, oh!”
At your words he used his impressive strength to pull you against him even more, the angle had his cock rubbing against that special spot and your high hit you harder than it ever had. You reached up and behind you to anchor your hands on his thick, vascular neck, sweaty skin sticking slightly. Your thighs trembled right as you began to peak, and just as the door swung open and you locked gazes with Taehyung. You felt a delicious pressure release in your abdomen as you gushed with a broken shriek, clear fluid squirting all over the tangled bedsheets. He watched you with eyes blown out wide, grip on the doorknob so tight it almost broke and you couldn’t help the way your eyes rolled back into your head. Each jolt caused your ever growing breasts to sway, and the way your hands were above your head only accentuated all your lovely curves which he happily consumed with his gaze.
Jungkook let out a few loud, high pitched moans as he released inside you, the warmth making you shudder as you began coming down from your orgasm. A warm, sweaty forehead pressed against your back as you both panted from the effort, Jungkook’s hands steadying you as you lay down onto your side. The shortness of breath was really beginning to kick in now that you were almost five months pregnant. Wordlessly you reached out for Taehyung, making grabby hands at him as he set his things down and shut the door.
“Good morning princess.” He stalked over to the bed, eyes raking over your glistening body, also flicking back to take in Jungkook who had flopped back against the pillows. “Do you want more? Does daddy get a turn?” He leant down and whispered in your ear as he pressed kisses all along your cheek. You whined and nodded yes, immediately seeking out his lips with your own. God, you just came but you were always ready and wanted to feel both of your lovers, so insatiable these days.
“Good morning my sweet,” he murmured, bed dipping under Taehyung’s weight as he joined you. His fingers ran through Jungkook’s dark curls, and he bent down to capture his other lover’s mouth in a sweet kiss, the younger tugged Taehyung toward him and eagerly began pulling at his clothes.
While the two of them locked lips and stripped you scooted up and flopped onto your back, skin glowing with a light sheen of sweat and legs wide open to accommodate your ever growing stomach. Both men’s gaze immediately fell to your core, looking so pretty with Jungkook’s cum slowly dripping out. Taehyung couldn’t resist, he shifted toward you, dropped to his stomach and pushed your legs further apart. “Look at you, such a messy girl. Daddy should clean you up, hm?” You bit your finger coyly, head clouded with lust as you nodded. Taehyung took another few seconds to stare at your engorged centre, his breath fanning against your wetness causing you to squirm before he quickly dipped down to run his tongue through your folds, groaning at the mixture of sweet and salty taste. He lapped up the juices, tongue seeking out your clit and drawing it into his mouth ripping an almost scream from you from finally getting stimulation on your sensitive, blood fattened nub.
Taehyung started to moan louder, and you lifted your head up until you were almost sitting - you had to otherwise you wouldn’t be able to see past your growing stomach - only to find Taehyung still had his head buried between your legs. However, Jungkook had his own agenda, and his teeth nibbled at one of Taehyung’s buttcheeks before his tongue dipped down between them. One hand snuck down underneath Taehyung’s hips to stroke at his cock which he had previously been grinding against the sheets.
You’d quickly learned that Jungkook had a bit of an oral fixation, he was obsessed with leaving hickies wherever he could. More than once the two of you would be working early in the morning, then the next thing Jungkook would haul you up onto the unoccupied part of the workbench and eat you out. You had to have a door installed that separated the back workroom from the shop because of his high libido, though as he grew more explorative you’d also have to scold him about food safety.
The elder sat back on his knees, a hand coming to sink two fingers into your sopping apex. His thumb rubbed circles against your engorged clit, and with each thrust of his wrist he pushed out some of the thick white mixture. Now that he was sat up, Jungkook crawled up and laid on his side, coming to lap at the drops of precum on his erect length. The elder pulled his hand from between your legs and popped them into his mouth, a soft groan accompanying the taste he so adored, the cum of both his lovers combined.
“Kookie? Can you go again, baby?” Taehyung asked, his other hand gently threaded into his hair to ease him off his member. Jungkook nodded eagerly, pumping his own cock in his hand, already hard again. The stamina that boy had frightened you, once you were ready for another baby he’d have you pregnant again in no time. Taehyung motioned for him to lay on his back, and gently guided you over to where Jungkook was propped up with his head resting against the pillows. You turned around and straddled his hips with your back to him and he sat up a bit to steady you.
“Are you okay to keep going? You’re not too tired?” Jungkook whispered in your ear, to which you quickly nodded. No matter how tired you were, you rarely turned down sex with your two lovers. However, on the odd occasion that you did want to rest instead they had no qualms, as they happily indulged in their own intercourse often. The sudden need to twist around and kiss him overcame you and you whined softly, seeking out his lips. They were both so sweet and attentive, you felt like the luckiest girl in the world.
“Kook?” You murmured. He hummed in response, a warm palm soothing on your arm. “I love you, so so much.”
He couldn’t suppress the grin that broke out across his face no matter how hard he tried, because he was so undeniably happy. “My (Y/N), I love you so much, more than you could imagine.” He leaned forward to peck your lips again before an insistent tap on your thigh brought your attention back to Taehyung.
“Don’t worry,” you whispered, already pouting at him for a kiss as well. “I haven’t forgotten about you. I love you too, Taehyung.” At your words he seemed to melt a little, his lips brushing against yours over and over in soft little pecks.
“I love you too, petal. All of you.” He touched your stomach gently, also looking back at Jungkook behind you. The hand that was just on your tummy came up to cup your cheek, however, you’d grown quite impatient and turned your head to draw two of his fingers into your mouth.
“That’s it, such a good girl,” he hummed, smiling as you suckled while looking up at him with wide eyes. The sweet tone turned to a growl as you dropped his hand only to bend down, now practically on your hands and knees, and licked a stripe up his fat, throbbing length. The taste of his salty precum had you keening, popping the tip into your mouth and swirling your tongue around the head. You lapped at his frenulum, occasionally running your tongue across the slit to catch the droplets as they continued to bead.
Jungkook behind you kneaded your soft rump, pulling the cheeks apart and running his tongue from your clit up to your tight hole. Your excessive juices mixed with his cum made for a perfect lubricant as he lapped at your rim, his thumb coming to spread the slick around it and you clenched at the threat of intrusion. He watched in fascination as you clenched again, lightly pressing on it to test the resistance. Given how wet you were the digit sunk in easily, and you immediately clamped down. Taehyung growled as he felt the vibrations of your moan on his cock, his hand threading into your hair softly. Jungkook worked his thumb in and out of your ass, giving your muscles time to slowly relax. A thrum of excitement rushed through you as he pulled the digit out, only to slick up two more fingers and ease them in carefully. You always got a bit more worked up when you knew you were going to have both men at once, it felt incredible being so full of them.
“God noona, you’re taking my fingers so well. You love getting your tight little asshole played with, don’t you? Such a good girl.” Jungkook hissed, scissoring the digits until he could work in a third finger. You pulled your lips from Taehyung’s cock with a pop sound, the pleasure was so overwhelming, especially when Jungkook’s thumb came to rub circles on your clit.
“Are you close again, princess?” Taehyung asked, stroking your hair. You nodded furiously, pushing back to try and get the younger’s fingers probing deeper.
“U-Ugh! Daddy, Kookie! I’m com-oh!” you didn’t even finish your sentence before your orgasm washed over you, toes curling and skin tingling with the euphoric feeling. Jungkook’s fingers continued to rub against your sensitive walls, the completely unique feeling causing you to clench even harder. When your cries subsided you slumped back a little and Jungkook withdrew his hand. “Please,” you whimpered, pouting and looking between both your lovers.
“Please what, my love? Use your words.” Taehyung ordered.
“Want more, want you both.”
“Oh? Is one cock filling you up not enough for you? Greedy girl,” he tutted. “Can you sit back for me? Want Jungkookie to fuck your ass while I have your pussy?”
Your empty orifices clench at his words, wanting so desperately to be filled and to feel the push and pull of both their lengths fucking you. Eagerly you nodded, reaching down to touch your clit again but Taehyung’s hand grabbed your wrist.
“Did I say you could do that, hm?” He growled, tugging your hand away. Your eyes widened at his commanding tone, shaking your head slowly. “What did I just tell you to do?”
“Sit on Jungkookie’s cock, daddy.”
“Exactly, go on then,” Taehyung growled, the softness of his hands as he helped you move back contradicting his tone. You hovered over Jungkook's length, the tip pressing against the seam of your ass. A faint gasp escaped you as he ran the head of his cock through your folds to soak it in the wetness dripping from you, before moving back to line himself up. Ever so gently he pressed the tip against your asshole, applying a soft pressure, coaxing the muscles of your rim to loosen.
Gradually your ass relaxed to grant him entrance, the head of his cock slipped in aided by your excessive slick. Once he pushed past that initial resistance the rest of his silken length sunk in easily, creating a delicious stretch and you moaned. Taehyung drank in the whole image, watching the younger's cock bottom out as his hips met the flesh of your behind and you sat fully impaled on his length.
Your pussy fluttered and clenched rhythmically, more droplets of your nectar running down to coat Jungkook’s heavy balls. The feeling had him crying out with a choked whimper, you were so tight and warm and he was so sensitive from only just coming.
Gently you rested back against his chest, Jungkook’s torso propped up safely by your pillows and your legs flopped open wider, beckoning Taehyung forward. The elder man sauntered over to you both, his precum dribbled down to join the mess between your thighs as he drew closer, rubbing the tip of his cock through your soaked folds.
You squirmed, unconsciously opening your legs wider for Taehyung to swear softly at the view he was blessed with.
“Daddy, please. Want you too,” you whined, pleading with your eyes as well. You continued shifting and grinding, making Jungkook’s grip on your hips brutally tight. He might leave a few bruises on your soft flesh but he couldn't help it, not when you felt so good. Besides, he would kiss it better later.
“Hyung-” He grunted, not able to get anything else out as he felt Taehyung’s fat cock push into your empty cunt, the thickness still stretching you despite how wet you were. In one smooth, slow stroke he bottomed out and a choked cry was torn from your lips at how full you were, already teetering on the edge and so close to tipping over. In a desperate lust filled haze your hand shot down to rub at your clit furiously, jolts of pleasure still shooting through your abdomen even though both men weren’t moving.
Instead of stopping you this time, Taehyung watched on with a smirk as you rocked yourself back and forth slightly, so desperate for release. He withdrew his cock slightly from your walls and you cried out in displeasure, pussy trying so hard to suck him back in. However, not a second later he plunged back in to the hilt slowly, right as Jungkook pulled out only to fuck back into you. The room filled with your loud cries, nothing got you to moan quite as loud as when you were stuffed full with two cocks, and not to mention the grunts and groans from both men as they picked up a rhythm, one thrusting in right as the other pulled out.
Taehyung’s eyes glazed over as he watched his length bury into your sopping, swollen folds over and over with each thrust. The sight made him harden further, heavy balls smacking against Jungkook’s length occasionally where it sunk into your slippery ass. It didn’t take long for your next climax to come, the only warning you gave them was a broken whimper of, “hgn, c-oming!” before your legs were trembling, a little sprinkle of clear fluid gushing forth as your eyes rolled back.
“Fuck-,” Taehyung grunted, quickly circling your clit to help you ride out your orgasm as he looked at the wet sheen covering his abdomen. “This is new. Does having your tummy nice and swollen make you squirt, sweetheart?”
All you could manage was to nod furiously, hips still being jolted from each push and pull. Suddenly the urge to shift positions came forth and you pushed on Taehyung’s chest gently, still trying to find the words after your powerful orgasm that left you feeling like jelly.
He slowed his pace, an expression of alarm appeared across his features and he gripped your hand. “What is it my love? Did we do something wrong? Are you hurt?”
“N-No, I just. Can I go on top please?” You breathed out, fatigue beginning to take its toll. He visibly relaxed, pressing a kiss to your sweaty temple.
“Of course.” He eased out gently causing you to wince at the sudden empty feeling when Jungkook did the same a moment later. Your hand gripped Tae’s wrist, tugging him softly so that he turned and flopped on his back on the bed and you swung a leg over to straddle his hips, two sets of hands touching you gently, always prepared to steady you. Taehyung’s fingertips trailed up from your hips, coming to cradle the small swell of your abdomen. The tender moment had you pausing, before you leaned down to kiss the grin off his lips.
You reached down to grip his length, lining him up before you sunk down on him. A content sigh left you at being reacquainted with the feeling you’d come to love and crave. The younger eagerly jumped up to close in behind you once again, his large hands groped the flesh of your ass, parting your cheeks to look at your twitching asshole. He was quick to ease himself back in as well, the elder giving him a moment to adjust before they picked up the pace, and from the way they were both moaning you could tell they were getting closer. You were glad as you were definitely getting tired during the rigorous fucking sessions these two always put you through.
Jungkook’s strength astounded you, he was practically picking you up and pulling you back back onto his length, doing most of the work while Taehyung fucked up into you with practiced ease. It was more frantic now, all three of you driving towards that blissful finish as you often did to start off the morning, although you’d be having an extra long sleep in for sure after this.
Your swollen breasts were now perfectly in Taehyung's face, bouncing with each thrust and he couldn’t resist leaning forward to draw one of your puffy nipples into the warm, wet cavern of his mouth. Your moans grew louder at the sensation, not to mention the way his chest began glistening as droplets landed there from the other peak. Not in a million years would you grow tired of seeing one of them latch onto your chest and suckle on the sensitive nubs, particularly now that you were pregnant and lactating. It just made them far more keen, the hormonal men brimming with spunk always ready to fuck their cum into you in whatever hole they could, showering you in praise after for being so good and fertile for them. Jungkook particularly would stare at your belly, definitely daydreaming about you pregnant with his child next. Luckily, he didn’t seem to mind too much that you didn’t have his baby growing inside you, it only antagonised him and gave him cause to try and outdo his hyung. It was a blessing you had such high libido or this relationship certainly wouldn’t have worked out so well, but the three of you had somehow achieved harmony.
“I-ugh, hyung! I’m gonna, uhhhh, gonna come!” Kookie cried.
“You can come Jungkookie,” Taehyung growled, his own words strained as his high approached. Jungkook was the one to peak first, pushing his thick cock into the hilt, stilling slightly as the warmth of his cum flooded your ass and he let out a string of high pitched moans. You were next, thanks to Taehyung furiously slamming into your swollen, sensitive cunt. As soon as you gripped him tightly in the throes of your ecstasy, he finally came as well, filling up your pussy with his warm, thick seed.
You collapsed forward onto his chest, panting hard and he pressed a kiss into your hair. “You’re always such a good girl for us, isn’t she Kookie?”
The three of you were dazed in your sweaty, post orgasm bliss, soaking up the sweet moment. The younger man hummed in agreement and parted your cheeks, staring at the copious amount of cum oozing from your spent orifices. You were sore but satiated, happily soaking up the tender moment until Jungkook exclaimed,
“Now that is the best creampie I’ve ever made!”
➻ A/N: This fic took me six months to write...so I would really appreciate a little bit of feedback!
Part Two: & Everything Nice coming soon!
#taekook x reader#taekook fanfic#bts fan fiction#bts smut#jungkook smut#taehyung smut#bts imagine#bts x reader#jungkook imagine#taehyung imagine#bts fan fic
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[against all odds, your hand is in mine] [1/4]
Seasons change, and with each comes a different story. In a world where the dead roam around, romantic companionship seems unlikely. Yet Ericson stands, and within it are four couples who are proof that it's possible.
Spring: Briolet | flowers, picnics, blueberries, running river
Read on AO3
Notes: Sometimes I get the urge to write four oneshots over the course of two days. This is the first of those oneshots. It’s briolet in spring, but be careful: there is so much hand holding and some smooches. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
[screenshot used is from the lovely @pi-creates]
---
Brody pricks her finger again. It's easy to avoid that, but she doesn't have a thimble, and her hands refuse to stop trembling.
No blood, and really, it didn’t even hurt. It more startled her, a bit of panic sparking in her gut at the idea of staining the martial and ruining her project. She stops her work to rest her hands and the fabric in her lap, closes her eyes, and sucks in a deep breath. It does little to calm her nerves or her impatience.
“Don’t rush,” she mumbles to herself, readjusting her position on the bed. She crosses her legs and notices a long strand of thick, pale blue thread stuck to her pants. Great, she needed that color an hour ago to finish one of the flowers.
Doesn’t matter now, the floral design is complete and all she has left is to sew the pieces together. If she can finish soon, there’ll be more than enough time to clean up, gather the basket she made up the night before, and head down to the greenhouse. Violet should still be there.
Brody smiles, setting down her needle and holding the handmade eyepatch in her hands. She rubs a thumb over one of the little white flowers. She embroidered them just this morning, a final touch to the overall design. That feeling strikes her gut again, exciting her nerves.
The idea came to her one night after Violet found her in the common room. It was late at night, and the two shared a blanket on the couch and drank tea. Violet's ruined eye was covered with bandages despite being healed over. No one was able to find her an actual eye patch. The best they found was a plastic one used for a children’s pirate costume, so she kept it bandaged.
Violet never complains about it. She considers the bandages her patch, even though they're not the most comfortable to wear every day.
Brody decided at that moment that she would make her one. She tore through her closet the next morning, sorting through old shirts until she found one she never wore. Taupe in color, a thicker material, something she could easily work with.
Though she had no idea how eyepatches were made, figuring those things out came easy to Brody. She made several patterns, testing each one out on scraps until one worked. From there, it was all about creating a design should could see Violet wearing. It wasn't difficult- sewing and embroidery work came easy to her.
A family thing that stuck, she assumes.
Her grams used to do embroidery and cross-stitching work. She made a living off sewing intricate designs, all more beautiful than any painting. If Brody closes her eyes, she can still see the doorway into her gram’s cabin. The framed design of a flowery cottage with a stone path, rural trees and a cloudless sky hung up on the wall. Her gram’s final masterpiece. She worked on it for months, pouring every ounce of love she had into each stitch. It was something Brody admired every time she walked through that doorway.
She learned to hunt and skin animals from her dad and uncles, and sewing from her grams. Best of both worlds, she supposes. Two skills that became handier than she would’ve ever thought at the time.
Though her flowers weren’t as flawless as her gram’s once were, she still put her heart into each stitch just as she did. She hopes that when Violet sees it, she’ll feel the unspoken words Brody threaded through the fabric.
Purple, white, and blue flowers of all sizes, each with a yellow french knot in the center, standing bright against the muted taupe. She sewed a thicker piece beneath it, used a tiny bit of stuffing from an old, ripped pillow to give it some comfortable cushion. A piece of a silky shirt lines the inside so Violet’s skin won’t get agitated while wearing it.
After weeks of work, all she has left to sew is the straps she made. She had no way to measure the fit for Violet’s head since she wanted this to be a surprise, so she figured she could make them extra long enough to tie comfortably while wearing. If she needed to adjust anything, she could do that later.
Brody picks her needle back up.
It doesn’t take long to finish, even with her forcing herself to take her time.
With triumph, Brody sticks her needle back into its rightful container and hops off her bed, singing, “Ta-daah~ !”
Her mind is all over the place. Wrap up the patch-- does she have a box or even a bag?-- and hide it at the bottom of the woven basket she found in the basement, stuff the blanket in as much as she can so the two cups don’t clank together, and start boiling water for tea-- where the hell did she put the jar of blueberries?
She flicks a match to light the heater she borrowed from Clementine, letting the water come to a slow boil as she searches around for the mason jar. It’s right under her nose, of course, sitting in plain sight on her shelf.
With the greenhouse running smoothly and the trading they’ve done with the traveling caravan that comes around, they're able to plant seeds for several different fruits and vegetables. This week, they finally got their first bunch of blueberries in. She managed to pick a bunch and seal them away in a jar yesterday without Violet noticing. She thought they’d make for a refreshing picnic snack to pair with tea.
Brody’s been planning this picnic for a while now, all while she was working and spring came to chase the cold away. Her favorite time of year where it’s finally warm, but cool enough to not overheat everything. Grass grows greener, flowers bloom all over the place, the river flows, and the sun shines bright in the sky most days. Other days, like yesterday, it rains. She was worried it would rain today as well, but there isn’t a cloud in the sky today.
She lets the tea steep in a large mug and squeezes what she can from an old container of mostly crystallized honey. When it’s cooled down enough, she pours it slow and steady into an empty water bottle. Sure, they can’t have iced tea given they have no way to actually make ice once winter ends, but lukewarm tea would be just as good.
Basket in hand, Brody looks out her window one last time before leaving the dorms. With every step she takes, she grows closer to the greenhouse and her heart thumps gaily against her ribs.
Outside, everyone is out and about, enjoying the warm weather. AJ and Tenn color together at the table while Mitch works on sharpening his favorite knife. Willy sulks on the couch beside him with Ruby attending to his bleeding knee. She's going on about him needing to be more careful.
Clementine and Louis sit on the steps leading into the admin building. She sits a step lower, leaning back into his chest as the two talk. Brody waves at them as she passes, and Louis gives her a knowing grin when he eyes the basket.
It’s not a long walk to the greenhouse from there. She stops when she notices the wildflowers growing by the fence of the rabbit coop. Bees buzz around the white flowers, landing in their yellow centers. She hates to disturb them, but these flowers were part of her inspiration when designing Violet’s eyepatch. They're too perfect not to pick. She shoos away a fat bumblebee with pollen sticking to its little black legs, and gathers eight of the flowers, leaving plenty for the rest.
A simple bouquet, if she could even call it that, but it works.
Once inside, the fresh scent of wet soil and leafy greens hits her. Not as refreshing as the sweet air outside, but still, it fills her lungs with warmth. Or perhaps that sensation is from seeing Violet standing beside Omar, watering what Brody believes are the potatoes.
Most of her hair pulls back into a hair tie, apart from the bangs that fall over her forehead and bandages. She hasn’t had a haircut in a while, letting it grow long enough past her shoulders. A surprise, actually. Violet hasn’t had long hair since they were kids.
Not that Brody was complaining- she likes it very much.
Violet breaks her attention from the potatoes to meet her gaze. She grins, and yes, that warmth is definitely from her. Omar continues on about some sort of new stew he wants to try making, only stopping when he notices he’s lost Violet’s attention.
“Everything doin’ okay in here?” Brody asks.
Violet gives a shrug. She sticks her hand out to run along the wooden planter to steady herself. She meets Brody halfway, replying with, “Eh, nothing too exciting. Willy biffed it while watering the rabbits this morning, but other than that...”
“He about crushed one of the babies,” Omar adds with a shake of his head. “More upset about that than he was about his skinned knee.”
“Aw, poor little guy,” Brody laughs. “That why he looked so miserable when I passed him?”
“Probably. He tried to catch it to apologize, but it was too quick even for him, and Ruby didn’t want him getting a bunch of muck all over him with an open wound, so…”
Apologizing to a baby bunny that they’re eventually going to eat? Sounds like Willy, Brody thinks. But never mind that, she has more important things than rabbits.
She reaches out to grab Violet’s free hand, her lips involuntarily curling into a bright smile as she asks, “Are you almost finished ?”
“Yeah,” Violet says, raising a questioning brow. “Why?”
“We’re going on a picnic!”
Violet pauses, only now noticing the basket in Brody’s grasp.
“We are?”
“We are!”
“That’s news to me.”
Brody lets go of her hand to present her with the flowers. Violet stares at them for a moment as her skin flushes, starting at her neck and blooming along her cheeks. If Omar weren’t standing over there, Brody would lean over and kiss that lovely blush.
“And where exactly would we have a picnic?”
“By the river. Already got a spot in mind.”
Violet holds the flowers close to her chest and clears her throat. She glances back at Omar, and says, “Uh, I don’t-”
“Go ahead,” he interrupts with a wave of his hand. “I can take care of the rest. Go have your picnic, be careful. And Brody,” he points to her, putting on a stern voice, “have her home by eight, and don’t have too much fun.”
Brody laughs.
“Yes, sir!”
Violet shakes her head, but her smile betrays her amusement.
“Well, okay, I guess we’re going on a picnic. There better be peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in there... that's what people eat on picnics, right?”
“Yeah, but no. Close, though.”
Locking their hands together once more, Brody leads Violet out of the greenhouse and through the gates. Soon, they’re outside the walls of Ericson. Heading down the path, she makes sure to keep watch out for any obstacles to warn Violet about.
Brody knows that Violet’s other eye works perfectly well, but given that her depth perception isn’t what it used to be, she can’t help but be extra careful. She used that excuse to hold Violet’s hand before they were together, both still recovering from their respective injuries. Better safe than sorry, use the buddy system, and that system requires hand-holding. Brody didn’t make the rules.
“Never been on a picnic before,” Violet breaks the silence.
“No? Not even before?”
“No.”
“We used to go out on picnics to eat and play games all the time. Me, my grandma, my daddy and uncles, cousins- if it was warm out, we were out.”
“That sounds nice.”
“Most times it was,” Brody says, giving Violet’s hand a squeeze. “ Just because those days are gone doesn’t mean we can’t do that kinda stuff now, y’know?”
“Yeah, I guess so. Though there are more walkers around than there were back then.”
“True, but that shouldn’t be a big issue today,” Brody smiles. “I asked James to check the area and he collected the walkers he found. The river should be clear.”
Even without looking at her, she can sense her surprise. Violet’s quiet for a moment, turning her head to peer around them before saying, “You planned this.”
It’s not a question, but more of a realization.
“I thought this was a spur of the moment thing,” Violet admits. “I, uh…”
When she doesn’t continue, Brody says, “ Not many opportunities to take you out on a date,” the word makes Violet blush and repress a smile, “and when one does arise, you bet your bottom dollar I’m gonna take it .”
Violet says nothing more, but her grip on Brody’s hand tightens.
They make it to the river without spotting a single walker. She kept her knife handy in case, but James was thorough, it seems. Brody makes a note to thank him again for helping her out.
The running water is soothing and the grass colors with golden dandelions. It’s nice to be down here without the intention of working up a sweat while fishing, she thinks. They find a flat piece of grass, kicking rocks, sticks, and pinecones out of the way to lay the blanket down. Together they sit side by side with the basket between them.
Rubbing her hands together, Brody digs in to pull everything out. Except for the eyepatch. It remains, wrapped in a pillowcase she found. Hopefully Louis won’t notice she snuck it from his horde of pillows.
“Alright, we got tea and blueberries,” Brody says, handing one mug to Violet and opening the mason jar of berries. Their sweet scent escapes into the air, making her mouth water.
“How’d you manage to sneak these past Omar?” Violet asks, popping a blueberry into her mouth. Her face twists at the taste, and for a moment Brody worries they might be sour, but Violet shakes her head. “They’re good, just not used to that.”
By now the tea is completely cooled, and while not cold, still delightful to sip on.
“Open wide,” Violet says, holding up a blueberry. It misses Brody’s mouth, bouncing off her chin. Violet laughs. “Pfft, c’mon.”
“Okay, okay, I’m ready, try again.”
Another miss.
“Aww, nope!”
“Well, let's see you try!”
Brody throws up a berry, and Violet misses it completely.
“Damn depth perception,” she grins, grabbing the berry and tossing it up herself. It hits her cheek, lost to the grass. “Damn it!”
Violet’s laugh, while rare, is as bewitching as it is infectious. It’s been so long since Brody heard her laugh like this, and to know that they’re here together, comfortable together…
Emotion builds in her throat, and she has to eat berries to suppress it. She aims the blueberry just right, and Violet catches it this time. As she chews, they both let out victorious giggles.
Once the laughter dies down, Violet brings her knees to her chest as she watches the river.
“Think we’re missing out on a fish haul?” she asks.
“Nah,” Brody pulls the basket closer to look inside, biting her lip as she runs her fingers over the covered patch. “And if we are, I’m sure the traps’ll make up for it.”
Should she do it now? They did just get here, did she want to surprise her early, or…?
Brody grabs a flower instead, bringing it up to her nose to inhale the soft scent. An idea occurs to her as she admires the girl before. Scooping up the flowers, Brody breaks off most of the stems. The flower slips in through Violet’s hair, right where the hair tie is.
Violet jerks her head around to look back, but Brody says, “Don’t move.”
“What are you-?”
She doesn’t need to answer the question, she merely secures a few more flowers within the light strands of hair before leaning back to admire her work. She even tucks one behind her own ear so they match.
Violet remains quiet, but lays her hand on Brody's. A silent, content thank you.
Brody doesn’t know how long they sat there watching the river, sipping tea, and listening to the birds chirp from the trees . A small butterfly flutters by them, and for a moment, Brody forgets the world around them. Forgets the walkers, forgets Ericson, too swept up in the way the warm air blew against her skin, in how Violet’s hand felt in hers, and the strange sense of wonder, a desire to kick off her shoes and run through the river.
It took Violet kissing the back of her hand to break her out of it.
Violet grew sheepish, glancing away as if she needed to come up with an explanation for the kiss, and that was it.
“Vi,” she started, pulling her around to face her. “I have- I made ya somethin’.”
The nervous pounding in her chest thumps in her ears as she reached back into the basket, pulling out the pillowcase.
“Aw, from Lou’s stash,” Violet grins, amused. “You shouldn’t have.”
“No, no, not the pillowcase,” Brody fidgets with it until she finds what she’s looking for. Her thumb brushes over the flowers beneath the thin material. With a deep breath, she goes for it. “Listen, I’ve been thinkin’ a lot about you. Us... just everything, and- Remember that night we stayed up in the common room talkin’? I thought… well, I wanted to do this for you.”
Brody hands her the pillowcase. Not once does she take her eyes off Violet’s face, noting the curiosity and confusion playing in her features as she accepts the gift.
The eyepatch is finally brought out into the sunlight, laying in Violet’s palm.
Neither of them speaks. Violet’s lips part, eye widening.
Brody lets the air out of her lungs slow, and then the words spill from her lips before she can stop them.
“We couldn’t find you anything to wear other than that stupid costume patch, and I know you said you didn’t mind the bandages but then I got to thinkin’ ‘bout how bandages might not always be the comfiest-”
“Brody…” Violet’s voice is quiet, trembling as it breaks.
“-and I want you to be comfortable in somethin’ that you like, so I made this for you- the whole thing, hand sewed it myself. I- but y’know, if it’s maybe too much- I wasn’t sure if it might bring too much attention and you wouldn’t like that-”
She’s cut off when Violet practically throws herself at her, burying her face in the crook of Brody’s neck and holding her tight. Brody doesn’t hesitate. She embraces her back, pressing a hand to cradle her head.
“I… don’t know what to say,” Violet's voice quivers.
“You like it?”
“Yes.”
“Then that’s enough.”
Violet pulls back, and without warning, her hands cup Brody’s face. She presses their lips together in a way that’s anything but gentle. It’s firm, purposeful, and loving. All tension from her body melts away, and Brody truly believes she could kiss her all day and that tingle? The one that coursed through her veins, the butterflies that fluttered in her belly? It would never go away. It wouldn't even lessen.
They break apart, and Violet’s staring down at the eyepatch in her hands.
“Holy shit. It’s… I don’t-” she tries again. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“I wanted to,” Brody assures her, brushing the bangs that fell over her face.
“No one’s ever made me anything like this before. I mean, not a patch, just … you know.”
“Want to try it on?”
Violet nods, and Brody’s undoing the bandages with ease. Her eye's healed from the damage the raiders inflicted, leaving only angry scars. The patch is a perfect size, covering everything.
“Does it feel okay?”
“Yeah, it’s… nice. Soft.”
“Does this feel tight enough? Like it won’t fall off, but not too tight?”
“Yeah, it feels good.”
“Couldn’t figure out a good way to clasp it together, so it ties. If ya want me to change it or anything, I can make adjustments... There!”
Violet turns back around, avoiding her gaze. Brody studies her face, the way the colors of the embroidered flowers make the green in her other eye vibrant, how the taupe of the fabric flatters her.
“Beautiful.”
Violet scoffs, ducking her head to hide the flustered smile that betrays her lips. This gives Brody the perfect excuse to place a quick kiss on her forehead.
“You’re so mushy,” Violet says, embarrassed but trying to force a playful tone. “Y’know that?”
Well, to be fair, Brody could be mushier, so she replies with an over-the-top, sweet, “Only with you.”
Violet groans and they laugh once more.
They know their little picnic will wrap up soon, so together they sit close and enjoy the comfort of nature for a few minutes longer.
“Thank you, Brody… really.”
Brody responds with another kiss.
Yeah, she thinks. She could kiss Violet all day.
#[against all odds your hand in is mine]#twdg briolet#twdg violet#twdg brody#briolet#violet twdg#brody twdg#spring: briolet#thank you for reading#it's always super appreciated :D#twdg fanfics#twdg fanfiction
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Mosaic Beach
It has taken me since Thursday morning (it is now Saturday night) to write this goes-nowhere-piece-of-fluff. I had a low level migraine Wednesday night and felt awful Thursday morning, so the first 850 odd words are me visualising being in a better place other than outside my daughter’s school. Then Scott had something to say and promptly ate my fic. But then at least he was thinking about Virgil.
Also, Gordon is evil.
As always, many thanks to @tsarinatorment @scribbles97 and @janetm74 for the read throughs and support. You guys are amazing to me :D
I hope you enjoy this totally lazy fic ::hugs you all::
-o-o-o-
It was a lazy day.
Virgil suspected John, who had been kicked off Five the day before, had Eos routing all but the most dire situations to local authorities whether Scott authorised it or not.
There were days where Virgil wondered if Scott was really in charge, since John had so much ultimate say.
But that thought was for another day. He was tired and it was likely going to be a day off - please let it be a day off - and he was going to find a corner of the Island to sit alone and scribble in his sketchbook.
He ended up on Mosaic Beach, a personal favourite on the edge of the caldera. Gordon had mentioned it the day before regarding the quality of flotsam available after the last storm and Virgil thought he would see what he could find.
It was overshadowed by an ancient pokey tree brilliant in red blossom and the sand here was a mass of black and white swirls as the coral detritus fought the eroded igneous rocks – the reason they had given it its name. Gordon was right - there was all sorts of things tossed up the sand and Virgil spent the first half hour wandering along the strip of sea wrack picking up shells and whatever caught his eye.
One of the shells appeared determined to return to the ocean and it was with a small smile that he picked up the tiny hermit crab and watched it curl up into its shell.
Holding it gently in his palm, he sought the shade of the giant tree and sat down on the sand in its shadow. Here the breeze was gentle, the sand cool and, leaning back against a rock, he set the little crab down on a smooth patch of sand, along with his small hoard of shells and let it scamper across the little landscape that resulted.
Sketchbook out, he spent the next few minutes sketching the crab madly as it moved about. It shifted angle at random and he found himself increasingly switching from real life to a character sketch. A little personality sprouted from the page that reflected the little crab’s determination.
Ever aware of the crab’s needs above his own, he sketched fast, took a few photos and then gathered the little creature in his hands once more. He trotted down to the rock pools at the edge of the beach and found a spot he felt the crab would be happy.
Crouching down, he watched it scamper into the water.
His lips curved into a smile.
Gordon would know what species it was, where it lived and how to best care for it. Virgil was pretty sure he knew what type it was. Mel was pedantic about crabs and had given them a list of ‘these are endangered, tell me if you see them, kill one and I will kill you’. Fortunately or unfortunately, it wasn’t a long list, so Virgil had memorised it. This little guy...he should be happy here.
The crab found some weed and promptly hid under it.
The rockpool drew Virgil’s eye a little longer before he finally stood up and let the breeze cool his face. A sigh at the sun’s warmth and he wandered back to the shadow of the pokey tree and sat down again.
The little crab stared up at him from his sketchbook, spritely and determined.
Kind of like Gordon really, despite the claws.
That prompted a smile at the thought of his fish brother’s reaction to being compared to a crab.
He would squawk, but he would love it.
Virgil returned to sketching the shells and bits of coral he had collected. Rearranging them, repositioning for lighting. He picked one up and stared at the colours created by a little mollusc. He was ever amazed at what Mother Nature was capable of. Simple geometrics and chemical formulae made one of the world’s strongest and most beautiful substances in nacre. Another broken shell showed the rainbow of colour that he knew his paintbrush would never quite be able to capture, much less the pencil and stick of carbon he had with him today. He was left with a little snapshot from his phone...which was never quite the same either...and what his memory could provide.
Perhaps it was nature’s way of ensuring it was always the most beautiful.
He shifted to scribbling down the beachscape after that. It wasn’t the first time he had drawn this beach, but as with all beaches, it was different every day as the tide sculpted it.
His fingers grew more and more lazy, his lines wandering through more emotion than reality as the day drifted on. At some point, he ate the sandwich he had packed, quite happy to not care what time of day it was and refusing to look at his watch.
Eventually the sketchbook was set aside and he let himself just stare out at the ocean lagoon, eyes tracking the movement of the distant waves and the laps of the ripples against the shore.
And nature’s rhythms lulled him to sleep.
-o-o-o-
“Hey, big bro, you might want to drop by Mosaic Beach before the tide comes in.” Gordon waltzed past the desk Scott was sitting at with a smirk on his face.
“What?” Scott’s brain was still stuck in working out what the hell Simmonds meant by the ‘urgent memo’ that had interrupted his afternoon off.
“The snoring is scaring away all the wildlife.” With that Gordon grabbed a book off the shelf on the far side of the room and backtracked out the way he had come in...without another word.
Scott was left staring where his brother had been.
But then Gordon was worth ignoring some times.
He turned back to his display and continued to try and work out why Simmonds had ordered sixty plastic flamingoes and then memo’d him about it in a panic.
It took him a good few minutes more before throwing it back at Simmonds’ supervisor in Japan with a ‘concerned’ note.
What did Tracy Industries need with sixty plastic flamingoes?
He shook his head and forced himself to stand up and not invest any more in any comms from the business. Today was hopefully his day off and he refused to fall into the trap of losing himself in all the things that required attention.
All the things.
He paused mid rise.
But no. No! Vacation day. He forced himself away from the desk and out onto the balcony.
It was a beautiful out here. The afternoon sun was blazing in a brilliant blue sky without a single cloud. The sea was murmuring far below. It was an artist’s dream.
He blinked as certain Gordon utterings connected neurons together.
A frown. “Gordon!”
No answer.
Another frown and he strode back inside, following the recent tracks of his fish brother down to the kitchen.
Scott found him reading at the table, a phone that was most definitely not his in one hand and the book in his other.
There were lots of photos of crabs.
“What are you doing?”
“Confirming the identification of a crab.”
“Why?”
“Virg found one down on Mosaic Beach and I wanna make sure it is what I think it was so I can report it to Mel.”
The dots that had been connecting earlier fused into a solid line with an arrow pointing directly at Gordon. “And where is Virgil?”
“Snoozing on the beach.”
“And why do you have his phone?”
“Because his drawings were excellent, but I needed a colour shot.”
“Gordon!”
His brother didn’t even look up. “What?” But then he blinked and frowned at Scott. “He’s fine. Well above the high tide line.” A glance down at the book again. “There, that’s it. Oooh, Mel is going to be so excited.”
Scott glared at Gordon for a whole second longer before storming over and snatching the phone out of his hands. Without another word, he strode out of the kitchen and took the path that would lead him down to the reported beach.
Younger brothers were hard work.
The little beach wasn’t the closest on the Island. Probably one of the reasons Virgil chose it to get away from pesky younger brothers. Trust Gordon to find him anyway.
He fingered Virgil’s phone in his hand as he walked. The green leather case was embossed with an elaborate dragon design.
Looking at it, all he could really feel was fondness.
He must be tired. Grandma was right. He needed a day off.
Easier said than done. It wasn’t like he could park himself on a beach and fall asleep.
He grunted as he stepped over some rocks to start the climb down to the little cove. The path was thin and wove amongst several pōhutukawa trees – or pokey trees as Alan called them, their dark green leaves adorned with puffs of red blossom. Birds darted between them squawking at each other. That combined with the surf in the distance and the breeze rattling palm trees, it wasn’t the quietest of places.
Nevertheless, he found his brother sprawled against a rock under the largest pokey tree at the edge of the beach, snoring his head off.
Definitely noisy.
Virgil was dressed in an old pair of work shorts and a t-shirt with a hole in it. Both sported spatters of paint and clearly showed how relaxed his brother was trying to be.
Beside him on a rock, carefully placed, no doubt by Gordon, the brat, was a sketchbook and a box of drawing tools. Virgil’s artist backpack lay folded up supporting his head - again likely Gordon.
Virgil snorted and curled up just a little more against the rock.
Gordon was a shit, but he was a kind one. Virgil slept like the dead and would likely need one of those waves off in the distance to wash over him if he was going to wake up before he wanted to.
Staring a moment longer, Scott sighed, gave up and sat down beside his brother. He dropped the phone onto the sketchbook and looked out at the beach.
Virgil continued to snore.
His biggest little brother had always snored. Scott had cornered him and got him tested for a variety of sleep issues, but he was fine. Just loud.
The terrible two used to make a point of pointing it out as much as possible. But that was before the hydrofoil accident.
Gordon didn’t know it, but due to his injuries, he now snored, too.
The ribbing about snoring in the Tracy household had dropped to a minimum since, Gordon the only unknowing ribber.
But Virgil remained the major noise maker and the brothers worshipped the soundproofing in the villa.
Regardless of the racket, Scott did find it strangely quiet out here. Sitting on the sand with nothing to do was oddly relaxing. Of course, he wasn’t really one to do nothing and Virgil’s sketchbook was right there. Gordon had obviously already stuck his nose into it and Scott was pretty sure Virgil wouldn’t mind if he took a peek.
Would he?
Lifting the phone off the book, Scott carefully picked it up and nestled it in his lap...ever, ever so careful. Okay, so he had some respect and not a little fear of damaging Virgil’s artwork.
The pages were thick and stiff and likely designed to support wet media as much as dry. Most of the work in it was pencil, however, maybe some charcoal? The darks were so deep in some that they had to be.
But Scott was no artist and really only had eyes for the content.
The first page found him looking at himself. Virgil had obviously either captured Scott’s likeness on the sly or drawn from a photo or holoprojection. His drawing stared up at him in almost all three dimensions. The expression on his graphite face was thoughtful, almost wistful. He could see his rendered self was thinking or planning and totally distracted...which was likely why he had no clue his brother had captured this shot.
But the artistic strokes were strong and sure, simple in their complexity.
Scott blinked, moved that his brother was so talented and capable.
Though he really shouldn’t be surprised.
Turning the page, he discovered their grandmother.
He had to smile. The concentration on Grandma’s face was almost comical. A bowl and a recipe book sat in front of her and the very tip of her tongue stuck out of the side of her mouth as she frowned at whatever she was reading.
There was a touch of caricature in the drawing, a little exaggeration, but done with love and fondness, not mockingly. His grandmother was beautiful.
Scott swallowed and turned the page to find several detailed scribbles. They looked like pieces of machinery and the pages had notes written down the sides.
It was a spark moment. He knew Virgil well enough for that. One of those times when his thoughts all came together and saw him running naked out of the shower to grab whatever he could find and get it written down.
Several major equipment improvements had occurred exactly this way. It appeared that at some point, this sketchbook had been the nearest note book and had borne the brunt.
He stared at the diagrams, doing his best to work out exactly what they were. Sharp notation, numbers, that had to be the backend of a pod. It clicked. This was part of the pod assembly redesign from the previous year. Virgil had come to him with some major improvements, including a pod body redesign. What followed had been a massive overhaul of all the ‘birds’ assembly systems and a whole new set up, including colour changes according to which Thunderbird housed which pod. Virgil and Brains had been buzzing for weeks.
And it was possible it had all started here on this piece of paper. Now he could see the scribbled down inner workings of the assembly mechanism and the shape on the second page was a worked and reworked pod shell.
He glanced over at his brother who was still snoring peacefully. Virgil was amazing. Scott could not have been prouder of what his little brother had achieved. Yet Virgil never really boasted or bragged or even highlighted what he had done. He was just there. Always there, one step behind him ready to help.
He must be really tired because now he was getting emotional. There had been a few times in the last couple of years where he had come close to losing Virgil. He hadn’t, but there had been nightmares and many a night where he had spent reassuring himself that his biggest brother was still with him.
And yes, he could stand outside his brother’s bedroom door and listen to him snore.
It gave him comfort.
Gordon had caught him once.
That had been a heartbreaking moment.
Because his fish brother hadn’t said a thing, just reached up, squeezed his shoulder, dropped his forehead against Scott’s arm and just stood there for a solid moment. Another gentle squeeze and he left, not even looking up at Scott before he was gone.
It said more than any words.
Scott sighed and turned the page...only to come face to face with Gordon again. Though this time the joy in their fish brother’s eyes was lighting up the page. He was grinning at a shell and there was a speech bubble - ‘Virgil, come and see this!’
Scott had to smile. Gordon was notorious for sharing his beach discoveries. Virgil was usually the target because at least he knew a little bit about their little brother’s fascinations. Scott loved to see Gordon happy, but honestly, he couldn’t tell the difference between one shell or another. He tried. He honestly did, but Virgil had the patience of a saint and was much more engaging.
Scott loved to watch the two of them instead.
And yes, he saw Virgil sneak things into his pockets. Usually shells, but occasionally rocks and bits of coral. Those finds made their way back to Virgil’s studio and there was a whole corner devoted to marine still life.
Which was why it was no surprise when the next three pages of sketchbook turned out to be exactly that. A curly shell, a pile of cockle shells - Scott knew those at least - they were good for fishing. The third page had a plan for a reef painting. It had scribbled notes, much like the pod redesign pages, but this was based around a sketched layout. Scott frowned at it...it was vaguely familiar. He would have to ask Virgil about it when he woke.
The next two pages sported today’s efforts. The same beach he was sitting on emerged from the paper, along with some sketches of a crab. The first few were realistic, but the last one had the little hermit crab with an IR symbol on its side and one of Dad’s old uniform hats perched on top of its shell. It bore a sash that resembled Virgil’s despite the lack of green colour and one of its claws was bigger than the other in a very exo-suit-like way.
That had Scott grinning. This was no doubt the reason why Gordon had run for the crab book. Mel, in her position of Director of the Kermadec Expedition south of them on Raoul Island, was very particular about the endemic crabs on all the islands in the area.
He wondered what she would think of them inducting crabs into IR.
He wondered what she was doing today and if she might be available later for a nice evening together.
That thought was very distracting and had nothing to do with crab identification at all.
Virgil snorted, rolled over off his backpack and face first into the sand.
Scott startled, fully expecting a woken bear of a brother to surface from that.
But Virgil just kept snoring, now snorting sand as well.
He placed the sketchbook down, scrambled around his brother and gently shoved the folded backpack under his head again.
His fingertips brushed sand off Virgil’s face.
And he found himself sitting beside his brother again.
Why was he out here?
Because Gordon was evil and dangled the concept of Virgil drowning in the tide simply to aggravate him enough to do exactly what he did.
Gordon was a shit.
But a good one.
Another sigh and he lay back against the rocks and got comfortable, because, let’s face it, he wasn’t going back up to the villa without Virgil. His brother was safe, sure, but walking off and leaving him to the elements ran against his grain.
And Gordon knew it.
He would throttle, and possibly hug, his fish brother later.
Besides, it was nice out here, taking a moment to just be.
Virgil would approve.
Virgil would fake being asleep just to get him to do it.
Scott’s eyes darted to his now softly snoring brother, a sudden suspicion at the forefront of his thoughts. He would put it past either of Virgil or Gordon’s conniving ways to conspire to get him out here.
Virgil was drooling a wet patch onto his backpack.
Ugh.
Well, maybe not.
Perhaps he was just being paranoid.
Perhaps he just needed to relax.
Relax.
He closed his eyes and folded his hands in his lap. Kayo was good at meditation. So was Gordon. Virgil did some connecting with nature thing that seemed to work for him.
Exhibit A snorted as if in agreement.
He could try.
Out of all the sounds he could hear, only one really held his attention.
That same soft snoring. No waves or wind or birds squawking brought him any kind of comfort.
The sound of his brother breathing evenly beside him, safe and sound, was the most beautiful sound in the world.
What that said about him...well, he didn’t care right now. He was tired and worn out. Maybe Gordon was right. Maybe this is what he needed. He should care, should be annoyed, but the rhythm was lulling and, god, he was so tired.
So goddamned tired.
Virgil kept breathing and Scott followed him into sleep.
-o-o-o-
Hidden in the foliage of the grove of pokey trees behind his two brothers, Gordon just smiled.
-o-o-o-
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Hello! Here’s my submission for @50yearsofqueen’s event. Posted nearing midnight for the drama. It’s a Doctor Who crossover that doesn’t really have much to do with the franchise other than in concept. It’s a very complex show, but canon’s already constantly challenged so I might as well challenge it even more. Thanks to my partner @bananavarina who made the art for this chapter and other chapters to come. Special thanks to @anne-white-star for helping me with the concept. Hope y’all enjoy!
———————————————
Humans succumb rather easily to trickery. After all, an unfortunate amount of them lead such jaded lives to the point they gradually lose the ability of thinking outside the box. This particular box is all these humans have ever known, yet, still, it serves as a case study in the development of claustrophobia. It’s stuck moving at a steady pace in a singular direction: forward. No turning back, no jumping ahead. Worst of all, the box never takes you anywhere. You need gasoline for that and gasoline, as you may well know, is expensive.
And if you don’t prefer a cheaper alternative for transportation, you’re either very well off or there’s something terribly wrong with you.
Thus, when presented with a different box, a time-traveling, space-hopping one which happens to accommodate much bigger dimensions on the inside, humans are easily fooled into stepping right in, putting aside all reasonable caution.
It’s for this reason that The Doctor recruits folks aboard his TARDIS with relative ease. It’s an art form he has nearly mastered, effectively trapping starry-eyed wanderers under the guise of adventure into a lifetime’s worth of the terror they least expect upon boarding. This terror had plagued dozens of Earthlings whose narrow understanding of space and time rendered them rather clueless as to how they might defeat it. This entity was, as brave Jamie McCrimmon ever so rudely proclaimed, a threat less comprehensible than Cybermen. This threat was unwanted exposition.
(Which is more commonly referred to as rambling.)
Countless humans have fondly (and exasperatedly, as certified human, Tegan Jovanka may attest) listened to The Doctor ramble for hours on end. It was a familiar dynamic, one The Doctor found comfort in. Perhaps, most of his companions never truly understood what he would be rambling on about, but it was, and still is, part of their exchange. The Doctor finds joy in showing such excitement, such beauty and wonder, to his friends. In return, his friends put the fun in his travels and gawk, accordingly, to all that they witness.
The Doctor always expected his companions to marvel in the sights and let him ramble on and on from topic to topic. What he didn’t expect was for them to stop marveling and start rambling back.
-
“Your mama loved scarves. They were all she had managed to pack from home when she was taken here.”
Brian slipped on his rubber footwear, his feet secured by tiny pieces of braided cloth cut from a scarf threaded through unevenly punctured holes. Haru had called them flip flops although he wasn’t quite sure whether it was a name he’d invented to cheer him up when he was little (like when he used to call lightbulbs fireflies) or if it happened to be the effect of inherent human silliness, thus making it the correct term.
“This is your papa’s favorite pair of pants. Your mama doodled stars and planets on it for his birthday. He loved them as he loved her...you love them too, don’t you?”
He pulled the pants up and fastened it with a belt. It was rather long and baggy for a ten-year-old. Still, Brian tried to make it work, bunching up the cloth and standing as tall as he could. He wondered if his father was out there, unaware of the existence of a son, finally home among the stars drawn daintily across his trousers.
“We all had to wear long sleeved shirts back in the metropolis. I wore green. He wore white.”
Brian put one on accordingly. The sleeves flopped and swallowed his arms as the shirt engulfed his skinny frame.
“Your mama had sewn him a vest. He wasn’t particularly fond of vests but he was very fond of your mama.”
He put on the black vest
Little Brian stared at the mirror in front of him, unsure what to feel. He felt tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, yet he wasn’t quite sure if it were right to mourn for something he’d never known.
“Bri?”
Brian looked up to find Haru standing at the doorway. His face was blank, yet a storm seemed to brew in his eyes. Perhaps, he was upset that the child he’d loved and raised as if he were his own was wearing the painful reminder of his friends long gone. Or, perhaps, he was disheartened that said child wasn’t satisfied enough with his care to stop yearning for his parents’ presence. Perhaps, he was neither of those. Perhaps, he was angry.
Brian hoped he was angry.
A moment of silence passed between them. Then another. Brian had read about moments like this in fictional Earthling books. He was steeling himself for those angry outbursts he always read about. Haru rarely got upset, yet Ian had never messed up this terribly before. So he braced himself…
Only to be engulfed in a bone crushing hug.
Brian quickly hugged Haru back as the latter trembled. He felt the pitter patter of tears falling on his shoulder and for the first time in his life, he felt the crushing weight of loss.
“You deserve to know your father,” Haru croaked as he regained his composure. Brian merely buried his face in his shoulder as he finally let his own tears flow.
“I already do, Dad.”
—————————-
“Doctor, your library’s collection of medical books is incomplete,” proclaimed Brian, a young man clad in white, signifying his status as an esteemed astronaut of Planet Rhye.
The Doctor gasped theatrically, startling Deacy, a man from 21st century Leicester, younger and less knowledgeable than Brian, yet seemingly much wiser. He’d been tinkering with a malfunctioning lever for about an hour now.
The Doctor merely smiled in apology to which Deacy responded with a fond shake of his head.
“Oh the TARDIS hasn’t been fixed yet?,” Brian inquired as he sank into a lavish red sofa situated in the console room.
“Not to my knowledge, no,” Deacy replied.
The Doctor laughed.
“Cheeky now, aren’t we?”
“Well, I deserve to be cheeky. After all it wasn’t me who busted the wiring in the butterfly room for a photoshoot.”
The Doctor scoffed as Brian let out a snort of his own.
“I’ll have you know, darling, that we’re perfectly safe and untarnished. I managed to avert the crisis by rearranging the wires before anyone could get hurt.”
“Did you, now?,” Deacy asked, his confusion evident.
“Of course I did!”
“Then how come the wires here are all mismatched and tangled up?”
A sudden silence swept across the room.
“Oh! You managed to rearrange them well enough for the TARDIS not to combust but they still weren’t in the correct order because based on the times we were on Itakam and the time we went to Roman occupied Greece, you’re no good at technical repairs,” Brian piped up, rather satisfied with himself. Deacy chuckled as The Doctor gaped at his lack of tact.
“Brian...do tell me about the library,” The Doctor muttered, as Deacy amusedly returned to his work.
“I’ve searched high and low in every single shelf of your library and found references to every single medical lung condition I’ve read of back home. They were all there...except for one.”
“Well, that’s silly, darling! The book dealer had been very sincere. I couldn’t have been tricked!”
“Perhaps, you’d simply been gullible?,” Roger suggested as he entered the room. He was exceptionally beautiful with no trace of wrinkles, pores, or even a philtrum. His skin was smooth as silk save for a pair of gills which rested on either side of his neck. He sat next to Brian and plopped his feet on the former’s lap. It was no secret that this Doctor, unlike the last two of his incarnations, was reserved around strangers. That being said, soaked up every last trace of physical affection from his friends like a sponge. Yet, even he chuckled at the display of such disregard for human manners.
Brian was human. However he’d been raised far from Earth, isolated from society with no one but Dad for company. Etiquette was unimportant in his little world and Dad hadn’t known enough about human custom to teach him anything of substance. Brian hadn’t known touch for years and he embraced, quite literally, its sudden return in the form of team cuddles. It seems rather funny, doesn’t it? That there are things you never realize you lost until you find it and cherish it once more? Ian seemed to believe so.
Roger was a fish.
“That’s impossible, for how all that pretentiousness my sixth face had, he simply wasn’t one to be tricked.”
“I beg to differ,” Roger countered. “I’ve met him. You’re absolutely rubbish at spaceship maintenance, I give you that. But you’re actually quite clever...very creative even. He was witty and creative too, but he wasn’t clever. He was mostly a bumbling fool.”
The Doctor didn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted.
“What medical condition were you looking for anyway?,” Deacy inquired as he rolled up the sleeves of his turtleneck and took off his spliced button up.
“Hanahaki disease.”
At this, Roger quickly turned away from Brian, trying to hold in his laughter. The Doctor buried his smiling face in Deacy’s shoulder as the latter forcibly schooled his expression into one of nonchalance. He was well aware that Hanahaki disease was fictional, after all, his girlfriend, Ronnie used to write fiction in her spare time and he’d be the beta reader. He nodded politely, as Brian happily hummed a little tune, oblivious to his friends’ antics.
You know you’ve got a terrible grasp on human custom when even a fish is more culturally aware than you.
“Well, either way,” Brian piped up, still blissfully unaware, “your collection’s incomplete. Maybe we should go look for the missing volume after Deacy repairs the console?”
“I reckon we need another adventure,” Roger agreed as he set his legs on the floor and yanked The Doctor towards the couch. Brian scooted closer, letting his head rest on Roger’s shoulder as The Doctor climbed in and rested his upper body on his companions’ laps.
“I’m afraid we’ll be stranded here for a little while,” Deacy remarked.
“Then what are you waiting for?,” Brian asked as he beckoned Deacy over to the couch. The latter smiled as he joined in what he believed to be the best part of traveling with The Doctor: cuddle piles.
—————————————-
“Are we gonna tell him…?”
“No!”
“How dare you?! I invited you onboard expecting a starry-eyed audience to gawk at everything I do but instead I got someone who seems to know my TARDIS better than me!”
“There’s no point in complaining about free maintenance.”
“You’re one to talk, fishman. There’s no point in bringing you along with me to witness the universe if you’ve already seen it all!”
“Yet you still keep us around.”
“...I suppose I do. Now wipe those smug looks off your faces. We’re going to 2012. Just to appease him.”
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And just thought of!! What if 13 and river bump into her previous self melody....and melody is hitting on 13. (Are her parents there as well)
Right, this got a little bit out of control, it turned out much longer than expected but I had a brilliant time writing this, I really hope you like it!!
Word Count: 2800
Genre: Comedy
Rating: G (but some swearing and innuendo lol)
AO3
Girls Night
“River we can’t do this…“ The Doctor protested as her wife was working the TARDIS’s controls.
“Why not? You said you missed them and so do I.“ River retorted setting coordinates.
“It’s too complicated, you know I can’t get to Manhattan anymore and…“ The Doctor tried to reason with her but to no avail.
“Who’s talking about Manhattan? We just pop in during one of your many absences, months at a time to pick from, we’ll be fine…“ River set the TARDIS going.
“But the time stream, it would be their past, it could get very complicated if…“ The Doctor argued.
“Hush, I do it all the time. We just don’t tell them it’s you, no biggie.“ River shrugged and grinned at her when the TARDIS landed.
“River, I really don’t think…“ The Doctor started again but her wife wouldn’t hear of it. She went to grab her hand and pulled her to the door.
“Come along!“
They stepped outside and found themselves in the backyard of the Pond’s family home. It looked exactly as it had on so many of the Doctor’s previous trips here and she felt a wave of nostalgia gripping her. Maybe River was right, maybe it would be just fine. There were plenty of gaps in her travels with the Ponds, no reason why they couldn’t pop in if they were being careful about what they revealed. They just had to get their stories straight.
“River, what are we going to tell…“ The Doctor held her back. They couldn't just barge in unannounced, she hadn’t even bothered to check yet where in the Ponds’ timeline they were.
“River?“ Amy’s voice came across the yard. She must have heard the TARDIS landing to have come out to check.
“Amy!“ River waved at her mother and pulled the Doctor along.
“What are you…“ Amy eyed the TARDIS behind them curiously.
“Oh, just wanted to pop in for a visit.“ River grinned.
“Where’s the Doctor?“ Amy frowned a little confused.
“Busy. I borrowed the TARDIS, don’t worry, I’ll pop it right back, he’ll never know.“ River explained it away with a chuckle and a wave of her hand. Amy accepted the explanation, it wasn’t like it was the first time.
“And who’s this?“ Amy looked to the Doctor, surprised her daughter had brought company. The Doctor stared back at her in shocked. It had been so long since she had last seen her. She wanted nothing more than to pull her into a hug but she knew she shouldn’t. The lack of recognition in her eyes hurt more than she wanted to admit. It was like she was looking right through her.
“Spoilers.“ River answered.
“Spoilers?“ Amy repeated rolling her eyes. “Does spoilers have a name?“
“I brought wine.“ River changed the subject quickly and pulled two bottles of wine from her coat pocket. Dimensional engineering.
“When did you get those?“ The Doctor couldn’t help but ask but she knew she probably wouldn’t get an answer. Her wife had her ways…
“Well, that’s good, we are having girls night so that is perfect. It’s the Strictly finale.“ Amy grinned and took the wine off her as she ushered them inside. They followed her into the lounge and froze in the doorway when they realised there was someone else lounging on the sofa already.
“Who’s this Amy?“ Mels raised her eyebrows, eying the two of them curiously.
“This is River and her friend who hasn’t got a name.“ Amy explained gesturing to both of them in turn.
“Friend or Girlfriend?“ Mels asked with a flirty grin as she looked the Doctor up and down who blushed.
“This is going to get very complicated.“ She mumbled to River who nodded slowly.
“Amy, I just need to talk to my wi… friend a minute, we’ll be right back.“ River announced to Amy who looked back at her confused but before she could protest, River was already dragging the Doctor down the hallway.
“Right, I’ll open the wine.“ Amy called after them. “No making out in my bedroom!“ She gave a shrug to Mels and then went to busy herself in the kitchen.
“Okay, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.“ River admitted, closing the bedroom door behind them.
“You think?!“ The Doctor exclaimed.
“That’s me…“ River gestured back towards the door.
“Yes, before Amy knows that! Her memories will blur, she’s not the problem but if Amy realises, that could be bad!“ The Doctor groaned in frustration. This was exactly the sort of thing she had been trying to avoid.
“Should we tell her who you are and just make her promise not to tell you?“ River suggested, trying to think of a way to make this easier for them.
“We should just go.“ The Doctor shook her head. “Because if you realise who I am, you’re going to try and kill me! This is you before we met!“ She had to remind her. “We should just get out of here, make you apologies to your mother and let’s go.“
“I’m sorry, Doctor, I really thought this would be fun…“ River ran her hand through her hair.
“Doctor? Well, I’ll say, this is going to be fun.“ They jumped when the door opened to reveal Mels.
“Mels…“ The Doctor said carefully taking a step towards her. She held her hands out, almost as if approaching a wild animal.
“How do you know me?“ Mels raised her eyebrows in amusement.
“How much of that did you hear?“ River asked the question she knew was on the tip of the Doctor’s tongue.
“Enough.“ Mels retorted with a wicked grin. “Love the hair, by the way, my, I look great, don’t I.“ She looked her future self up and down making clear she knew exactly what was going on here. “And you’re the Doctor? Certainly not who Amy described but I’ll take it.“ She turned her attention to the Doctor.
“It’s a tiny bit complicated timeline wise…“ The Doctor winced. At least Mels would forget about all this. They just needed to get out of this situation as soon as possible and preferable in one piece.
“I’m sure it’ll all straighten out just fine.“ Mels grinned and grabbed a letter opener from Amy’s desk.
“Okay, none of that.“ The Doctor was quick to sonic and disarm her as she had done in Berlin. “You will forget about this anyway and the timeline will stay intact.“
“OI! What are you all doing down there? I’m not drinking all this wine to myself.“ Amy’s voice called down the hall, interrupting the tense stand off.
“Amy can’t know, we’re in her future, you will be damaging your own timeline if you tell her.“ River gave Mels a stern warning. “I am you and I know that for a fact!“
Mels rolled her eyes at her but couldn’t respond as Amy stuck her head it.
“Come on then!“
They obliged and followed her, none of them wanted to ruin the fun for her.
“Sit down.“ Amy pointed to the sofa and handed out wine glasses.
Mels patted the sofa next to her indicating for the doctor to sit but River was quick to pull her along and sit her down the opposite end. She put her arm around the Doctor protectively and Amy dropped onto the sofa between River and Mels, eying their silent exchange curiously. She felt like she was missing something.
“It’s starting.“ The telly drew her attention as the Strictly Come Dancing theme tune came on and Amy leaned forward in excitement. “You’ve got to drink for every 10 scored and down your glass if anyone scores a perfect 40!“ She explained the rules of the drinking game.
“We are so going to regret this…“ The Doctor eyed the glass in her hand suspiciously and had a sniff of the wine. She disliked alcohol at the best of times but when she was trying to keep a level head from getting herself killed by her wife’s past self, it seemed even less appealing. The TV show, however, was actually quite fun to watch and they all got into it.
After a while, the doorbell went.
“That’ll be the pizza.“ Amy exclaimed full of excitement.
“I’ll go.“ Mels offered as Amy appeared to be enjoying the show a lot more than the rest of them. She got to her feet and left the room. Amy, took advantage of her momentary absence and turned to River and the Doctor. Apparently, they were more interesting than the dancing show after all.
“Okay, okay, seriously now, joke’s over, who are you?“ She glared at the Doctor, trying to work her out. Something was going on, she knew it, River would hold on to just anyone like that, even when she was getting increasingly tipsy.
“I uh…“ The Doctor blushed and looked to River for help who just took a gulp of her wine.
“Oh look Amy, another 10!“ River pointed to the telly. “I’ll say, this drinking game is dangerous.“
“Here we go.“ Mels returned with the pizza forcing Amy to stop her interrogation. As far as Amy knew at this point, Mels had no knowledge of her travels with the Doctor - apart from what she had told her during her childhood - and who River even was. Mels passed Amy one of the boxes and opened the other, holding a piece out to the Doctor. “Try this one.“
“Yay pizza.“ The Doctor leaned forward in excitement but River was quick to take the box off Mels.
“Yeah, intercepting that…“ She popped the box behind herself onto a shelf. “Poisoned.“ She mouthed to the Doctor. She knew herself well enough. The Doctor’s face fell in disappointed.
“Hm.“ Mels pursed her lips and sat down again.
“Okay, here we go, perfect 40!“ Amy exclaimed taking a huge bite of her pizza, she hadn’t even noticed the exchange between the others.
“Stop drinking so much, we need to keep an eye on her.“ The Doctor whispered to River who was downing her glass alongside Amy.
“I need this to cope with the situation.“ River smirked to her and pulled her closer.
“Also makes you more handsy.“ The Doctor gave a little, undignified squeak when River gave her arse a squeeze.
“You don’t usually complain about that.“ River hummed in a sultry voice as she leaned closer.
“River, how’s that boyfriend of yours?“ Amy exclaimed elbowing her daughter. She knew her relationship with the Doctor was rather complicated but she was sure he would not be best pleased to witness this. So she got offended on his behalf.
“Oh you know, he’s about…“ River gave a dismissive wave.
“You have a boyfriend, River?“ Mels pipped up from the other side.
“Yeah, he’s a Doctor.“ River retorted hoping to make her see that she really should stop trying to kill her future wife.
“Isn’t she a Doctor, too? Do you have a type?“ Mels smirked pointing towards the Doctor who went very pale.
“You’re a doctor?“ Amy looked back to the Doctor who could already see the whole thing crashing down around them.
“Doctor of archeology, we met at uni!“ She exclaimed quickly.
“Oh right.“ Amy nodded, that made sense.
“You’re an archeologist?“ Mels looked to River thoroughly confused.
“Got a problem with that?“ River shot back.
“I don’t know, do I? Just wondering what went wrong in between.“ Mels shook her head to herself.
“More wine?“ Amy suggested feeling tensions rising. She had no idea what was going on but this was not how she had envisaged girls night to go. She jumped to her feet to get more wine from the kitchen.
When Amy came back, she found the lounge in disarray. The sofa had been knocked over. The pizza had gone everywhere. The telly was broken, sizzling in the corner and Mels and River were fighting on the floor.
“Stop it right now!“ The Doctor called, stumbling over her own feet a little as the alcohol was starting to effect her.
“Okay, what the HELL is going on here?!!“ Amy barked and River jumped to her feet, letting Mels up as well. “WELL??!“ Amy scolded her daughter.
“This might be a little bit complicated to explain.“ River grimaced.
“Try me.“ Amy put her hands on her hips. “This better not be a late toddler tantrum!“ She glared at her. “But what I really want to know is who youare.“ She turned and tabbed her finger at the Doctor who immediately went very pale.
“Come on Amy, you can stop pretending now.“ Mels huffed in annoyance.
“Pretending?“ Amy frowned.
“About the Doctor.“ Mels exclaimed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You used to tell me about him all the time, but you have mentioned he’s gonna turn into a pretty girl, you know I like blondes.“ She gestured to the Doctor.
“Oh my God, you actually are the Doctor?“ Amy looked back around, confirming the sneaking suspicion she had had for a while.
“Who else would wear braces like that…“ River shrugged, surprised it had taken her mother this long.
“Why didn’t you tell me it was you?“ Amy yelled at the Doctor who wanted to take cover behind the sofa but was too slow. She punched her arm. “You idiot!“
“Ouch! It wasn’t my idea to come here looking like this…“ The Doctor exclaimed rubbing her arm.
“Okay, yes, enough talking, can we just get to the point.“ Mels interrupted by pulling a large kitchen knife at the Doctor.
“Mels, what are you doing?“ Amy exclaimed staring at the knife in her hand.
“Doing what she’s been trained to do, try and kill the Doctor…“ River explained stepping protectively in front of her wife.
“Wait…“ Amy’s head was spinning.
“My own bespoke psychopath.“ The Doctor sighed. This was just too much, this was going terribly, terribly wrong.
“It’s just a phase, you’ll grow out of it.“ River couldn’t help but point out.
“I am not following.“ Amy shook her head.
“Come on mum, everyone has got there except you.“ Mels sighed.
“Hang on, you’re not…“ Amy’s head whipped back around to Mels.
“Penny in the air…“ Mels grinned.
“You’re Mels, my childhood friend.“ Amy exclaimed.
“Short for…“ River prompted.
“Melody.“ Amy answered. “Yeah, I named you after her.“ She looked from River to Mels and back again.
“You named your daughter after your daughter… I feel like we’ve done this before.“ The Doctor said half heartedly.
“Maybe have a drink so you don’t freak out… and so the timeline doesn’t change too much, we arrived a bit early…“ River pointed to the wine glass in her mother’s hand who promptly took a big gulp. This was evening was getting worse by the second.
“The timeline is about to change alright.“ Mels smirked dangerously and lunged forward with the knife. River met her half-way and grabbed her arm. She tripped her up and knocked her to the floor. The knife flung out of her hand and slid away as River twisted her arm onto her back.
“I’m lifetimes ahead of you, dear.“ She smirked as she held her down.
“So you are both from my very distant future, just popped in for a visit. Mels is actually River but young and my daughter but she’s trying to kill the Doctor because that’s what the Silence trained her to do.“ Amy started rambling. “But the Doctor is a hot blonde now, who, apparently, my verybisexual daughter is shagging, again, or rather still? But I’m not supposed to know any of that cause it’s all already happened for you and the timeline would be fucked if I found out so you were all pretending like nothing was going on and we got drunk because…“
“Aaaaand I think that’s enough of that.“ The Doctor pressed her fingertips to Amy’s face and she collapsed to the floor unconscious.
“Mind wipe? Probably for the best.“ River nodded.
“She’ll have one hell of a hangover anyway.“ The Doctor shrugged and lifted her up and onto the sofa even though it was still at an odd angle.
“And I suppose I’m just gonna forget about this, am I?“ Mels struggled against River’s grip.
“Yes, won’t remember a thing once we’re out of here. And don’t worry, you will never kill the Doctor, you’ll get close but you will save him because you’ll fall in love with him, so you have that to look forward to.“ River huffed as she let go of her.
“Well, I have that to look forward to.“ Mels couldn’t help but smirk as she looked the Doctor up and down with very blatant admiration.
“When you’re a bit older.“ River was quick to retort. “I’m taking her home tonight.“ She gave the Doctor her best cheshire cat smile, making her blush deeply.
“Time to get back to the TARDIS…“ The Doctor said, trying not to sound too eager.
#river x thirteen#thirteen/river#space wives#doctor who#river song#thirteen#thirteenth doctor#Mels#melody pond#amy pond#fanfiction#humour#comedy#fluff#femslash#yowzah#the ponds
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OVERLOAD & BUNNY GIRL
[ prologue ]
SUMMARY: A new small group of villains is spreading chaos all over Japan and no hero agency seem to know what to do about them — they are perfectly organized, always manage to escape arrest, never cause any casualties and its members remain impossible to identify. All heroes can do is wait for them to strike again and hope that they will be able to capture them. Convinced that she can do a better job than everyone else, a rising Pro, Rabbit Hero: Mirko, dives in head first into an investigation and realizes too late that she might be biting more than she can chew.
mirko x villain!female!oc
Of all the popular spots in the city, there were few that she found more despicable than the Kiyashi Ward Shopping Mall. Unnecessarily vast, stores spreading endlessly under her gaze, bright colors ready to blind anyone who stared too intently or for too long. And loud. It was so goddamn loud, no matter what time of the day she visited that cursed mall, it was always filled to the brim with obnoxiously loud people — the hustle and bustle of life had never been much of a bother to her, but there, stuck in a crowd that she could barely escape when tucked away in a corner, everything was too much.
In spite of all that, in spite of her boss knowing exactly how much she hated that place, he still sent her there for his ridiculous scouting mission. There was absolutely no point in scouting the place when it was so easy to find a map with every store on it, was there?
She let out a deep sigh and rubbed a hand over her eyes. If it were not for this tenuous task, she could have been home, settled comfortably under a heavy blanket to watch videos of superheroes getting their ass kicked, or compilations of the most awkward superhero moments in superhero history, on her phone. But she was stuck there instead, leaning against a pillar, desperately trying to avoid any sort of physical contact with those who passed too close to her.
"You look so stiff your attitude screams super-villain. Relax and live a little, Overload."
The grating voice came suddenly from her earpiece, making her wince. She could not resist the urge to press a hand to her ear, even though she knew it was useless to chase the noise away.
"Don't call me that," she whispered, not bothering to try to hide her annoyance. She had never felt the need to have a Villain name — she was not one of those people who needed to show with their fancy Quirk and their fancy code-name that bore little to no meaning. Obnoxious.
"Then relax and start looking like you at least aren't here against your will." Her partner's tone was teasing, once again a reminder to live a little. "People are staring. But maybe that's 'cause you're super hot."
Her only response was a groan. It was always like that between the two of them. He tried to tell her to not be so stiff, she complained, he tried to flirt, she ignored him for three days in a row. He was far from being a terrible person, not a constant buzzing annoyance, and his playful flirting could be quite amusing at times (but that much she could not bring herself to say out loud, as it would merely encourage him further). He was no good person either, though. Neither of them was. But that was the whole point, was it not?
She looked up at the floor above her, easily spotting his large figure in the crowd. He was leaning over the railing, watching her with too intense eyes, and all she wanted was to show him her middle fingers. But that was impossible. It would only bring attention to their connection, something they could not afford right now. Discretion was the whole point of their mission today. Observing without being noticed — why their boss would send both their tallest male and female members for such a task was beyond her.
So annoying and entirely useless if you asked her.
"Second store on your left. Big one. Looks like there'd be loads of cameras. Check it out."
Even from down there, she could see that he looked pleased with his suggestion. No matter what that store sold, she already knew that she would hate it and want to burn it to the ground. But she did not speak her mind. She simply hummed, took out her phone to pretend to check something, and made her way to the store that Boomboom had indicated.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me," she muttered under her breath at the terrible sight that spread under her eyes like an endless nightmare.
It did not take more than two seconds for a loud laugh to echo in her ear, Boomboom much too happy about her reaction to try to hide his — even though he knew that he needed to be discreet and not bring attention to himself, he was laughing like an idiot. Too pleased with himself and the fact that he had guided her to a superhero merchandise store.
She was surrounded by capes, costumes, mugs, figures, posters, and various decorations that were brightly colored and shaped like the Quirk users that the common folk admired more than they ought to. That store was hell on earth, but she could not afford to run away now that she had stepped inside. She needed to spot every camera in the store, that was her mission. A mission that she hated with a burning passion.
So, instead of fleeing the scene as she wished she could, and escaping that nightmare of a vision, she walked around, pretending to examine the contents of the rows of shelves, picking up a mug here and there only to put in back down. She had to dodge several too excited children screaming about All Might and Kamui Woods and whatever other Pro Hero kids liked nowadays.
It was only when she approached the counter at the back of the store that she found something that piqued her interest. Protected by glass panels, stood a little exhibit of figures, statues, pins, and other memorabilia that she could not help but admire. There was a banner that rested above the shelf, white letters on a beautiful shade of muted red; ‘Heroes Of Our Childhood’ it read.
She knelt in front of the display, her eyes moving from one side of the lowest shelf to the other.
“You like vintage heroes, uh?”
The voice belonged an employee she had spotted when nearing the back of the store. He was not particularly tall or handsome, he was not particularly anything, really. A very plain looking man that she would not have even looked at, had it not been for her mission. He had a kind smile, though — a man who seemed like he could be trusted. But she did not trust anyone.
With a deep breath, she brought a hand up to her earpiece and disconnected it, refusing to let Boomboom hear any part of the conversation that was bound to follow.
“Why aren’t Locked & Loaded together?” she inquired, still too entranced by the display to look at the man.
“You know Locked & Loaded?”
There was a tint of admiration and excitement in the man’s voice, and finally, she looked away from the shelf. The man’s eyes were wide open in surprise, apparently caught off guard by her knowledge.
“We’ve had this display up for a bit over a week now, and nobody has ever noticed that Locked & Loaded are on opposite sides of the shelf,” the employee explained, kneeling by her side. “I had this idea that I would sell them at a reduced price to whoever realized that they belonged in a set, since I never expected that someone would recognize them.”
He scratched at the back of his head, the gesture almost bashful.
“Are you interested in buying them?” he asked, his voice barely containing his excitement. “I can do two-for-one, for someone like you.”
He looked her up and down, his eyes lingering just a second too long on the sliver of skin that peaked between her jeans and crop top. Ah. No matter how kind and trustworthy that man looked, he was one of those guys. She could not point it, could not make a scene, had no desire to bring any attention to herself right now, in the middle of a mission, so she merely shook her head at the offer and tried her best to give him a small smile.
“Regular price, please. The names of heroes like Locked & Loaded shouldn’t be tainted by reduced prices.”
What was she even saying? She should not be refusing such a generous offer when she barely made any money, should not be spewing such chivalrous nonsense about long gone Pro Heroes, but there she was, unable to stop herself from talking. It was a good thing that she had had enough sense to cut the connection with Boomboom, or she would have never heard the end of it — the man loved to tease her more than enough as it was, and he definitely did not need more reasons to keep teasing her.
“Wait for me at the counter while I get Locked & Loaded ready for you!”
She stood up, knees cracking inelegantly as she did, and made her way to the counter as the employee disappeared behind a door. The counter was just as obnoxious as the rest of the store, bright young heroes, and their bright costumes; pins, patches, and other small objects that nobody could possibly have a use for. There were tiny figures standing on the counter as well, far from the high quality and details of the statues she was about to buy. Her eyes landed on one that only appeared taller than the others because of the white bunny ears sprouting from its little head. Tan skin, fluffy ears and a body suit that did not cover any of the taut muscles of the female hero.
"Interested in Mirko?" the employee asked as he came back from the concealed room, large box under his arm.
"A bunny girl?" She blinked, unable to look away from the unexpected hero. "Is this what Pro Heroes have come to?"
The man laughed, "we can’t choose our Quirks, right? She's a rising Pro Hero. Really popular lately, super strong legs. She kicks villain butts!"
She only hummed at the words and finally looked away from the small figure. Bunny hero was weirdly cute, in a way. As cute as extremely muscular heroes in a tight and revealing body suit can be (not all that much, all in all).
The employee reached over the register to grab the small figure and placed it in the bag he had prepared, on top of the box that contained the statues that she was about to waste her money on. Why was she even buying them? It would bring her any sort of joy, would it? She had no idea where in her apartment there even would be room for them. What would she do with a mini bunny girl?
Probably sensing her confusion at the gesture, he spoke up.
“It’s a gift. I’m a fan of Mirko, and I was always a fan of Locked & Loaded, so I hope that one day, you’ll look at Mirko the way you looked at these Locked & Loaded statues.”
The smile he directed at her was soft, kind, genuine, but she could only arc an eyebrow at his words.
“I highly doubt I will ever look at any hero the way I looked at them.”
His smile remained. Obnoxious.
“You never know!”
Definitely obnoxious. People who thought they knew better were insufferable and exhausting to talk to — which was why she always avoided conversations with her boss so carefully.
Her money wasted, credit card back in her pocket, she headed out of the store, not without casting a last glance around the place, making sure that she had spotted every camera there. It was what she had gone inside for, after all, not to buy some Pro Hero merchandise.
“Yo!”
She jumped, every muscle in her body tensing as she readied herself to throw a punch, but Boomboom’s large silhouette was casting a shadow over her, protecting her from the overbearing sun that would have otherwise undoubtedly hurt her eyes.
“You know it’s not good for us to be spotted together, right?”
He only shrugged. Under her questioning gaze, he finally tapped his ear.
“You disconnected. And Bossman said we should head back to HQ.”
Her lips formed a surprised little ‘o’ shape. She had turned off her earpiece to make sure that Boomboom would not hear her talk about superheroes to the employee of that stupid store.
When Boomboom’s eyes fell on the bag clasped in her hand, her grip on it only tightened, and she moved it behind her back, out of his sight, as if it would actually quench his curiosity.
“Whatcha got in there? Don’t you hate Pros more than Bossman does?”
She scoffed and rolled her eyes.
“I bought something so I wouldn’t look too suspicious after looking around for so long. It’s nothing interesting.”
Boomboom’s grin showed too many of his too white teeth.
“Show me!”
“No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
“Show me or I’ll show myself.”
Boomboom was now frowning, and while she knew that he rarely was grumpy, she was too aware of his insatiably curious personality. She had never minded that particular trait of his; it made him cautious in general and a very good partner for missions, as he never hesitated to do research before going anywhere. But Boomboom also was much taller and had a lot more raw physical strength than she could ever dream to have. If he really wanted to take the bag from her, it would barely take him a minute.
“I’ll show you one thing?” her tone was unsure as she tried negotiation, but Boomboom still smiled, and she knew that it would be enough.
She fished the small bunny girl — no, Pro Hero — figure from the plastic bag and placed it in his large hand. He brought it closer to his face, pushing his sunglasses on top of his head to take a better look at it.
“Mirko the Rabbit Hero?” he questioned, seemingly confused, though he had clearly gotten the name right.
“Yes, bunny girl.”
Finally, he looked away from the small figure to look back at her.
“I didn’t expect her to be your type,” he said, almost too calmly, “but it makes sense. You do seem like you’d like them with abs and big biceps.”
“I look like I would like Pros with abs and big biceps?” It was her turn to be confused.
Boomboom shook his head. “Women. Not Pros.”
She gathered all the patience in her body to let out a sigh instead of unleashing her Quirk at full power in his face. Rather than give him the honor of reacting to his attempt at teasing her, she merely grabbed his arm and started to head for the exit of the cursed mall she had already spent too many hours in. At least it did not feel so bad with him right by her side — no matter how pleased with himself he looked. Boomboom was safe, he felt like home.
#bnha oc#mha oc#mha oc x canon#my hero academy oc#🖊️ overload & bunny girl#pre canon events#mirko isn't official top 5 yet in this#can you tell i'm obsessed with rumi yet?#ANYWAYS#now i go back to trying to write some x reader stuff
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It’s almost debutante ball time!!! Before that however, Yoru gotta clown on Azul a bit because he deserves it ehehehe. I think so far this may be my favourite Yoru Floyd friendship stuff I’ve written. Full fic under the cut, no warnings, 2330 words
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Azul glared at Yoru and Floyd from across his desk. He’d been angry, though not surprised, when he returned to it after cleaning up their mess and found that they’d left. He’d been foolish to expect either of them to willingly take their punishment. “You two could have caused irreparable damage to the reputation of the lounge the other night, luckily I was able to smooth it over with our classmates in Savanaclaw.” Floyd grinned, swaying slightly on the spot where he stood “So whats the problem then? If there was no damage done we didn’t do anything wrong”
Yoru crossed her arms and grinned “exactly, I don’t know why you’re so mad about it”. Azul stared at the pair of them, having trouble believing that neither of them saw anything wrong with attacking a group of students because Yoru had gotten insulted. He leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath before speaking “Because of your actions, you still need to bear the consequences. Yoru. You will be taking a short break from waitressing until the chatter from your birthday interview dies down. Floyd, your shifts will be doubled until you pay back the cost of the broken tablewear” Yoru chuckled and stretched her arms out in front of her “So you’re saying every time I attack someone I’m going to get a break? I can live with that” she grinned at Azul who frowned “Hey! That’s no fair!” Floyd complained, crossing his arms and puffing out his cheeks. “If Fugu-chan gets time off, I want time off too!” Azul smiled at them both and laughed quietly “Ahhh, I’m afraid I must not have been very clear, Yoru-san. This isn’t a break, merely a break from being here in person. With VDC coming up I need you to do some research for me...” She rolled her eyes and gestured for him to get to the point. “I want information on all the students of NRC… and of RSA and the villagers, if you can get it. There will be many people visiting campus during the event, and I want to know how to maximize our profits with the guests. You’ll use your unique magic and watch what and when everyone is eating and drinking.” Yoru rubbed her eyes, knowing she was in for what guaranteed to be an incredibly boring week. “Anything else? Want me to tell you when and where they’re using the washroom too? When they’re sleeping? Every time they complain about the Octopus bastard asking for completely unreasonable things?” She scowled at him. He tented his fingers in front of his face as he leaned forward and beamed at her. “The more information you can get me, the better. You can go. Floyd, I believe the kitchen needs scrubbing, best you get started” They slumped from the room, both of them muttering about how they got the worse end of the deal. Yoru laughed quietly knowing that Azul didn’t know the extent of what he had asked for, Floyd looked at her curiously “Hey Floyd… how many people do you think are on this island…?” He raised an eyebrow and shrugged at Yoru grinning at him. “I think I can see the whole thing… Azul is going to be pissed” She laughed as she left the lounge. Be careful what you wish for, Azul.
Three days later she returned to the lounge, research under her arm and a grin plastered on her face. She had to avoid Jade and Floyds inquisitive looks at her, knowing if she met their gaze she’d burst out laughing and ruin the effect she hoped to have by surprising Azul while he was busy. As she approached the VIP room she noticed the twins trailing behind her, Jade stepping forward to open the door with them both following behind her to watch Azul’s reaction. He didn’t glance up as she entered, her feet clicking on the floor, a giveaway of who his visitor was. She slammed the papers down on his desk in front of him, breaking his concentration. “Yo-Yoru-san...what the hell is this?” He stared at the messy stack of papers she’d slapped down in front of him. She was having a hard time hiding her amusement “It’s what you asked for. What and when everyone on the island eats or drinks. Hope this is enough!” She smiled at him, waiting for him to break. “...Yoru-san… there must be 1000 pages here…” He deflated before her, rifling through the pages each one full of her tiny cramped writing. “Closer to 1300, actually. It’s been a long 3 days” She struggled to keep her smile genuine, her resolve cracking as Floyd and Jade started laughing. “Do you have any idea how long it’s going to take me to go through all of this?” He looked at her, starting to sound unhinged. She yawned and stretched “I’m sure you’ll have to tell me later. I really should sleep, I made sure to stay awake so I didn’t miss a SINGLE detail” She waved as he began to sputter, Floyd and Jade finally giving themselves over to gales of hysterics. She was just crawling into bed when Floyd climbed in through her window. “Fugu-chan you missed the best part. Azul tried to get some of the other students to organize the information, but Jade told him they’d probably miss important details and he should do it himself to make sure it was done right. I think he started crying, it was really funny”. She curled her arms around her pillow and smiled at him through half closed eyes “Sad I missed it, but I guess I can always make him cry sometime again later” she said through a yawn, settling herself in for a much needed rest.
“Hey Fugu-chan, you never told me what you were going to wear to that dance at your school. You said we should match, but you never showed me what you got” he said, hopping into bed beside her, helping himself to her other pillow and some of her blanket. Yoru pulled her face out of her pillow and looked at him through tired eyes. She’d completely forgotten about the Debutante Ball and sighed, not remembering that she’d even invited him. “Forget about it, I don’t wanna go anymore...fuck I’ll need to tell Floyd too before I forget” she groaned, pulling herself out of bed, dragging herself to her desk to look for her phone. Floyd sat up in her bed, watching her curiously “Uhhh you just told me? What are you doing over there?” Yoru waved him off “Not you, Floyd Durer from RSA, he was my date last year, I forgot to tell him I didn’t want to go this year” She struggled with her phone for a few moments, not realizing Floyd had gotten out of her bed and was watching her attempt to text from over her shoulder. He snatched the phone out of her hands, enjoying her clumsy attempts to grab it back, tired Yoru wasn’t graceful at all, it was quite endearing. “Well I wanna go to this ball. Jade and Azul are both going so I wanna go too.” Yoru stared up at him, her brain barely processing the conversation, arguing with Floyd without sleep was more difficult than she expected. “I said I don’t want to. I bought my dress last year when I was normal, now I’ll just look stupid in it and there’s no time to get anything else” Floyd squinted at her and crossed his arms. “Hmmmm Fugu-chan you don’t seem like the type to wear a dress. I wanna see!” He reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her towards her closet. “Get dressed! Show me, show me!” He pushed her into the closet and retreated to sit down at the head of her head, bouncing slightly in place. She leaned in the door frame of the closet trying to debate with herself if he’d let her sleep sooner if she just agreed. “Fugu-chaaaaaaan hurry up just waiting is getting borrrrriiinnnggggg, do you need help?” She heard Floyd whine from across the room. She sighed, retreating into the closet knowing it would just be easier to cave to his demands.
She slipped the dress on and shook her head, trying to wake herself up. She had bought it when she looked completely human, and had been excited to show off her new body to anyone she could. It was bright teal, sparkly, and had a deep V neckline that nearly reached her navel with two high slits in the skirt that reached to her hips. It was a dress made for a human, not a bird that wanted to be one. She stared at herself in the full length mirror in the back of the closet, it was all wrong. She wasn’t supposed to have the wings jutting from her back. Wasn’t supposed to have sharp and black hands. Wasn’t supposed to have ugly bird feet sprouting from the bottom where her talons clacked against any hard surface they met. The shoes she’d bought to match lay untouched in their box on the shelf to her left. The colour was supposed to draw attention to how human she was… not make the contrast of her hands, feet, and wings all the more stark. “What’s taking so long, did you get stuck?” Floyd complained, popping his head into the closet, finding her lost in the mirror. He frowned and walked up behind her, unsure of what she had been complaining about “heeeeh? Why were you worried, this is fine… though I don’t know how you’re going to dance in this thing without your tits falling out” He said casually, checking her out in the mirror in front of them. She shook her head a little in an attempt to clear it to process what he had said. “I look stupid, my hands and feet stand out too much, nothing matches. It’s like someone shoved a crow into a bag and called it a dress” Floyd rolled his eyes and looked back at her “Match what? You’re not wearing anything else, what is there to match?” she gestured at herself “my feet? My hands? My wings? I bought this expecting to be normal and now I look like a dumb bird pretending everything is fine. I wasn’t supposed to look like this when I bought it!” she was nearly shouting from frustration and exhaustion “Wah wah, always complaining about everything” Floyd mocked, stepping in front of her to block her view from the mirror while simultaneously looking down at her to try and see what she meant about the color clash.
He sighed and grabbed his magical pen from his jacket pocket, using it to change the colour of her dress. “There, now it blends in better, so stop being so whiny about it Fugu-chan. I’ll make sure to come get you, so don’t run away anywhere. I wanna meet the other Floyd!” He smiled at her before skipping from her closet. She followed him out, incredulous, where the hell did he get the confidence to order her around like that? She turned back into the closet and looked at herself in her dress, Floyd had changed it from it’s bright single colour to a darker teal ombre. The colour it had been was still visible at her neck, but it was nearly black by the time it reached her feet, blending in perfectly with the bird legs she hated so much. She sighed and pulled the dress off, hanging it up carefully before making her way back to bed and collapsing in it, falling asleep immediately. Floyd had checked in on her a few times over the next day and a half making sure she didn’t try and run away before the ball, each time finding she’d barely moved, he was beginning to wonder if she’d even wake up in time. The day of the ball Floyd crawled through the window more carefully than normal, making sure to not mess up his suit before they even arrived. She was finally awake, and from the sounds of it in the shower. He laid down in her bed, waiting for her to be finished, wishing that the dorm beds were as big as hers, it was nice to have all the space to stretch into. He wondered if Jade would mind if he got a bigger bed, even if it would take up half their room. Yoru sighed when she left the bathroom and saw Floyd sprawled out in her bed reading her journal. “Fugu-chaaaaan, hurry up and get dressed, I’m almost done reading this and then I’ll be bored so we should go” She wandered towards her closet drying her hair, Floyd really didn’t understand the concept of privacy. The first time she’d spent the night at Idias she’d tried to take off her shirt before bed and he almost passed out explaining that she had to wear pajamas if she was going to stay over, whereas with Floyd he’d broken into her room while she was nude on several occasions and never batted an eye. She assumed it must have been a side effect from growing up somewhere where no one wore clothes and wondered what that adjustment had been like for all of them when they first came to land. “Nah, we’ll know when it’s time to go...trust me” Floyd raised an eyebrow at her and she sighed, throwing the towel she was using on her hair to the floor before getting dressed. She stared at herself in her dress again, not nearly as confident as she hoped she’d be and slumped her way back to the bathroom to fight with her makeup.
“Nuggeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeettttttttttttttttttttttt” Crowleys voice rang up the stairs “Let us go have fun at your schoooooool!” Yoru prayed for patience and glanced to Floyd, now sitting up in her bed, loosening his tie with a grimace. “That’s what I meant, I guess it’s time to go”.
#twst oc#twisted wonderland oc#yoru crowley#floyd leech#jade leech#azul ashengrotto#twisute oc#twst oc fic
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Little Wound Part 2
Joker/52 x Little Lady Reader
SFWish
Mentions of abuse and non-con
“What are you doing?” Joker threw a glance over his shoulder to Licht and gave a small shrug, The scientist hadn’t visited him for well over a month and a half, “I thought you just wanted to lay in bed all day, now you’re building furniture - why?”
“Because flat pack furniture is easier to move through The Nether than already built pieces.”
Licht rolled his eyes and entered the room that used to be where they stored random finds, “I know why you’re having to build it from scratch, I meant, why are you doing it in the first place?”
Tightening a screw on the metal frame of the double bed and then picking up a vacuum-sealed bag, Joker heaved a sigh at the scientist, “Because,” he threw the bag on top of the frame and cut it open so that the mattress inside could grow, “You said, ‘Get up and do something’.”
“I meant to fight the bad guys, investigate Ameratsu, go stalk the kusakabe kid… Not make a better bedroom to lay around in…” He was trying to keep his tone amicable but he really wanted to blow the long-haired man up with some faulty concoction.
The room wasn’t at all how Licht would expect Joker to like it, the steel walls had been sprayed a soft colour, the steel ceiling was white, the usual bare bulb now sported a nice lampshade that matched the… “Did… did you lay a carpet?”
Joker smiled proudly, “Yeah, so take your damn shoes off.” It hadn’t been easy for him to set up, what was essentially a steel box like most of the manmade hideaways in The Nether, into something that looked like it belonged on the surface in a regular house. “I’m going to get a wardrobe built, a chest of drawers, gonna have a dressing table too. Later I’ll grab some bedding and what do you think of a bedside table with a lamp?”
“I think you’ve finally lost it.” This time he did frown and his voice dropped, he couldn’t hide how disappointed he was that Joker wasn’t taking the truth seriously anymore.
He wasn’t blind and Joker lit up a new cigarette, sitting down on the bed to rest his aching body, “It’s for Y/N, Licht. For when I rescue her.”
Licht was quiet for a moment, staring at Joker and then at the room and the work going into it, “I think you’ll need help stealing more electric and diverting clean water pipes to make a little bathroom.”
x - -
When Y/N opened her eyes and she saw a ceiling above her and a lamp on a little table beside the bed she was on, she was confused. She sat up slowly, looking all around her to take in the bedroom she appeared to be in and when she looked down at herself she wasn’t in the shapeless, white uniform of the shadows but in pair of clean pyjamas. The last thing she remembered was fighting with a man with mismatched eyes and then the world morphing and changing as something made her think she’d finally gone mad. Then… “Fuck!” Her eyes widened and Y/N looked around the room harder than before, she stumbled out of the bed and hit the main light switch to disperse all the dark corners of the room.
She was alone.
Opening one of the two doors she found a tiny room containing a toilet, the smallest sink in the world and a shower. There was an artificial mirror stuck to the wall, she wouldn’t be able to smash it for shards to use as a weapon, a shelf with a few cosmetics she recognised from her time at Company 3 and a towel hanging neatly on a hook - no rail for her to use as a weapon either.
Heading for the second door, Y/N wasn’t surprised to find it locked.
This was a prison made to look like a cosy room.
What was Joker up to?
Was he going to lull her into thinking she was safe and then kill her - it was hardly any different from what she had done to him… would he try to humiliate her too?
Not a day had gone by where she hadn’t thought of his pleading eye and the way he had reached for her; how he hadn’t stopped even after she had poured her drink over him as he lay there helpless. And now he was back. He had killed the Captain and taken her as his prisoner.
Y/N hid beneath the bed, it was obvious he could find her there but as she balled herself up as small as she could go, the tiny space was somehow comforting, despite her claustrophobia beginning to act up and telling her to get out into the open. A scared gasp left her lips and she shoved a shaking hand against her mouth to muffle the onslaught of panicked sounds trying to force their way out. What was he going to do?
Was he going to torture her?
Cut her?
Strangle her?
Whip her?
Would he… no, this was Joker… but then she had betrayed him.
The thought of going through more torture was more than she could stand. The captain had continued to hurt her even after she completed her mission, he had beat her and whipped her and he had continued to defile her at every opportunity. He told her it was for her own good, that he was making her stronger. Sometimes suffering was just suffering. It didn’t make her stronger, it didn’t build her character… it had only hurt.
So maybe if she could find that kind part of Joker, the one he had let her see, she could convince him to just kill her quickly.
Y/N had wanted the pain to stop and the Captain had told her that the only way she would ever truly be one of them was to get rid of the original Five-Two, until then she would always be a spare card.
Her teeth began to chatter as she hugged herself tighter and her eyes stayed glued to the door.
Unable to tell if it was night or day or even how long she had hidden for, Y/N fell into an exhausted half-sleep.
When they opened again she was back in the bed, the small lamp dimly lighting the room as it had before, only this time there was a tall figure sat at the dressing table with his back to her. Y/N felt her body move before her mind could register it, she scrambled into the corn of the bed, the blanket tangled around her legs and heard shaped pillows tumbled to the floor in her rush.
The movement made Joker turn around to face her, he figured if he stayed sat she might not freak out too much, “Hey, it’s alright, Little Lady. I swear I’m not gonna hurt you.”
He doubted she would believe him.
“I don’t believe you.”
See?
He gave a little sigh, “I don’t blame you. I get it - I was in that same shitty situation. That green-eyed bastard used to beat me to a bloody pulp, he got worse the older we got. He beat me, got into my head, whipped me down to the muscle and on the odd occasion he was feeling a little randy, he’d fuck me too.” He’d been the one to change her out of her old uniform and clean her up, Joker had seen old scars and marks he vaguely remembered from their time together but he had also seen the new marks and scars - she’d really been through hell. “If I had been in your place, I would have done the same thing… I don’t think I would have been kind enough to leave you unfinished though.” He saw her flinch and he gave her a small grin, “But nice job on recognising you couldn’t take me head-on, gaining my trust and stealthily attempting murder like that - that was impressive!”
She had so many opportunities to kill him before that night.
Like the times he would fall asleep beside her and be completely vulnerable.
That had been one of the things that plagued his mind the last year but also gave him a scrap of hope; she hadn’t even finished him off and that had allowed him the chance to survive. The Shadows would have taught her to always make sure the target was dead before leaving… maybe she had wanted to give him that chance to survive.
“Let’s just talk about it, Little Lady,” the man stood up from the chair and took a step toward her, “You said talking was how normal people do thi- Y/N? Wait, hey, it’s oka-” Joker stopped and lifted his hands in surrender as she got off of the bed to run into the bathroom, slamming the door after her.
Leaning against the door he called through to her, “Y/N, Little Lady…” she didn’t reply and he heaved out a loud sigh; he had known this would be hard. “Don’t be scared of me, I forgive you.” He had forgiven her the moment he had felt the knife in his body. “I just want to help…” From the other side of the door he heard her begin to vomit and he opened the door, he had guessed she would try to lock it so made sure it wasn’t an option, “I’m going to touch you.”
Joker wasn’t asking if he could, he was informing her so that she might not react too badly. He placed his open palm on the middle of her back and stroked up and down until she stopped being sick, the retching sounded painful and it was hardly a surprise because it must have been a while since she had eaten - she’d been there for less than forty-eight hours already. “Okay, let’s get you back to bed.”
“No!” Y/N’s reaction was almost violent as she threw herself away from him in the tiny space and he winced at the force that her body hit the wall, it was enough to shake the shelf above. He watched her breathing become rapid and shallow, her chest heaving and a cold sweat had started to break over her brow.
She was beyond terrified.
Joker gave her a little space, wary of the wildness in her eyes, “You’re scared this is all a lie and that I’m going to do worse to you than the Captain did. I get that, I know you won’t believe a word I say and I know that if I let you leave here then you’ll either get yourself killed or do it by your own hand. So you either stay here and be scared or let the Stockholm Syndrome start to kick in.”
How was he still so bad at people-ing?
Did he even register what he was saying half the time?
Y/N was half tempted to yell at him for being so stupid but she didn’t have the energy. Instead, she huddled up and hid her face again, “I did everything the Captain told me to… he just kept pushing and pushing and pushing me until I fucked up.” The words were muffled and her breathing was still too fast but Joker understood her just fine, he noticed her nails biting into her skin and without thinking her reached for her wrists to stop her. The action made her scream so loud that couldn’t avoid wincing as it shredded his ears; he didn’t let go even as she struggled and thrashed in his hold.
“I’m sorry, I should have warned you but you’re hurting yourself,” Despite knowing it was probably the wrong thing to do, Joker dragged her to him, he let her wrists go and her nails soon found their way into his clothed arms and even into his hair as she tried to escape the forced embrace. It was better to attack him than herself he supposed. “Listen,” he said as firmly as he could to make her understand he was serious, “He was a bastard. A sick, twisted, son of a bitch, who thought he had the right to take what he wanted, that he could punish and treat people however he wanted and tell them it was their fault. He didn’t teach you a damn thing, his lessons were just his excuse for raping you. For making you think you deserved to be violated and defiled.”
Y/N froze completely at his words, “He did the same fucking thing to me, from the time he was old enough to get an erection to the time I ran away. If I had thought for a second that killing just one person, no matter who that person was, that it would save my ass for even just one time - I would have fucking done it. Man, woman or fucking child.” He could hear her still struggling to breathe properly but it was enough for him that she wasn’t fighting him anymore, “He’s fucking dead, Y/N. I sliced him up into pieces and now the rats are chewing on what’s left.”
Y/N’s grip in his hair didn’t loosen and he had to twist his head a little to relieve the pressure on his scalp, “He’s dead?”
“Dead.”
“Then why… why can I still… why is he still in-“
“In your head?” he murmured, “Yeah, he was in mine too - drove me kinda mad.” Finally, she seemed to be able to take a deep breath and her urge to fight him was replaced with a trembling that seemed to go through every nerve and limb. The man loosened his hold a little, giving her the chance to get away if she wanted; to his surprise she stayed in his embrace, her fingers unlatching from his hair as she slowly dropped them to his shoulders and put her face into his neck.“I know you’re scared and I know you can’t trust me yet… But listen up, I promise I’ll let you feel the warmth of the sun again.”
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