#nice to see more people flocking back to their roots
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I AM SO HAPPY THIS FANDOM ISNT COMPLETELY DEAD. IM BACK HOME GUYS ITS BEEN YEARS BUT IM BACK HOME 😭
WELCOME BACK HOME! I’ve been helping out pumping some life into the fandom. Come join the crusade.
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2 - Surprise
Louder Than Words: Reprise
SessKag Fluff Week, Day 3: Valentine's
Prompt: Surprise
915 words. AO3.
A continuation of sorts of my earlier fic Louder Than Words.
Sesshoumaru had no trouble with machines. Oh, they were frequently vexing and sometimes even he couldn’t figure out why something had decided to stop working as it should. Nevertheless, there was usually a logic to them.
And if all else failed, he could pry open the casing and poke around the different components and see how it all worked. Or have a look at the source code and hunt down where something had gone wrong.
But people, to him, remained a mystery.
Higurashi Kagome was a people person. There was no doubt about it. She was always friendly with everyone. She smiled often and always seemed to be ready and willing to chat for a bit with any and all of their coworkers.
In a stark contrast, Sesshoumaru was most comfortable when he was alone in his own office in the IT department. Though he had to leave the safety of his lair on occasion, often to fix misbehaving machinery or attend a boring meeting that could have as well been an email, he vastly preferred to troubleshoot and interact with people from a distance.
Higurashi Kagome couldn’t have been more different from him. And maybe, he wondered to himself as he stared at his computer screen, that was why he had gravitated to her from the start.
She’d been working with them for a year and half now. She worked in communications, which was probably the one department outside of IT that Sesshoumaru knew best. He’d befriended their graphics designer Miroku during the website revamp from a few years’ back.
Sesshoumaru had been silently smitten with Kagome since she first smiled at him in passing at the cafeteria queue. He’d overheard her chatting with that red-haired youngster from communications and from that single everyday conversation alone he could tell she was bubbly and kind and smart.
Unlike some people in their organisation, Kagome wasn’t hopeless with technology. She was responsible for all their social media, after all. And yet, for the past six weeks, she seemed to be running into tech trouble constantly, calling him at least twice a week. On seven different occasions, she’d talked him into grabbing lunch together.
She always chatted with him a bunch, all nice and friendly. Flashed him bright and frequent smiles. Touched him every now and then, though he was sure most of those little brushes were accidental. Still, it was driving him mad.
His crush had by now grown roots. And with every interaction with Kagome, a new branch would sprawl out. The feelings were getting out of hand and harder to contain with every passing day.
Glumly, Sesshoumaru picked up his coffee mug and pushed out of his chair. A booster hit of caffeine would perk him right back up.
There was a knock on his door. Higurashi Kagome peeked in, beaming at him.
“Hi! Do you have a moment?”
His heart stuttered in his chest and he had to clear his throat before he could reply. “Sure. Was just about to get coffee.” He lifted his mug in a sorry salute.
“Great!” Kagome’s eyes sparked and she walked into his office. “I really wanted to make sure I got these to you today.”
Sesshoumaru blinked, trying to clear both his vision and confusion. But as the sight he was seeing didn’t waver, perhaps he wasn’t imagining the cellophane-wrapped pouch that Kagome was holding out to him.
“What’s this?” he asked cautiously, even as a wild fluttering flock was let loose in his stomach.
“It’s chocolate, made by hand by yours truly! Happy Valentine’s Day, Sesshoumaru!”
“Thank you.” Sesshoumaru inclined his head, a little stiff. He accepted the gift and studied the assortment of chocolate truffles in various shapes and featuring different toppings. They looked delicious and really well made.
He shouldn’t get too worked up about the gesture. Sure, the obligatory chocolates women gave to their male co-workers weren’t typically this elaborate handmade kind, but Kagome seemed kind enough to go for the extra mile, even for the gift chocolates.
He couldn’t help wondering what her confession chocolate might look like, since these were already the nicest Valentine’s chocolates he’d ever got.
“I’m glad you thought of me,” he said, looking down at the chocolates. His cheeks were burning, and he hoped she hadn’t noticed that he was blushing.
The rustle of her skirt was his only warning. Then, her scent was filling his nostrils, and her hair was tickling his neck as she leaned in close. The kiss she planted on his cheek was too brief and utterly electrifying. Even as she pulled back, smiling bright, the warmth and softness of her lips against his skin lingered.
“I won’t take any more of your time, I know you must be busy,” she said, smoothing down her skirt. “But let me know what you think.”
She winked at him and left his office. Floored, flummoxed and flabbergasted, Sesshoumaru stood right where she had left him, still shivering and stupefied by her kiss.
It was only then that he noticed the card peeking out from under the wrapped chocolates.
He pried it open with trembling fingers. And as his gaze quickly drank in the handwritten words, his heart raced up his throat. Awe prickled in the tips of his toes, flooding his entire frame as it started to finally dawn on him: Sesshoumaru knew exactly what Kagome’s confession chocolate looked like.
He was currently cradling them, and the sweet emotions they represented, in his hand.
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ok as promised here’s more followup on jackie and misty’s roles in my yellowjackets animorphs au (part 1, part 2) for the like three people who care.
misty FUCKING quigley:
when she found that weird glowing cube half-buried in debris, misty thought it’d probably net her a hundred bucks on ebay and a cool story to brag about to ben and the soccer team. but she could tell there was more behind the team’s faces than the usual frowns that signaled “oh, great, another misty monologue” when she showed it off. and then, natalie scatorccio of all people started watching her - sitting next to her in every class, tracking her movement from across cafeteria, pushing away the kids in purple t-shirts emblazoned with “the sharing” who bug her in the hallway. “it’s very nice of you, but i don’t need a bodyguard,” misty tells her on a break during practice a few days later, as she hands the girls ice cold water bottles. nat just shakes her head and smiles, then walks away without another word.
then, it happens. out of nowhere, while she’s walking back to the car, the kids from the sharing attack her, like physically attack her. a guy she’s pretty sure is on the football team pins her to the concrete while a goth girl from her math class grabs her backpack and starts rooting through it. “i’ll give you a week’s lunch money,” she rasps, “a month! just tell me what you’re looking for!” the goth looks like she’s about to respond when the puma appears from out of nowhere. as if this day couldn’t get any weirder - cougars aren’t even native to new jersey, she thinks to herself as she watches the big cat fend off her attackers. once it’s taken care of the last of them, it turns on misty. there’s a strange glint in its eyes; she braces herself for the end. and then: <what was that you said about not needing a bodyguard?>
like david, misty is made an animorph mostly out of necessity. she’s seen too much, knows too much. and like david, she’s kind of a loose cannon, unpredictable on and off the battlefield. but unlike david, she’s fiercely loyal to her team and willing to do whatever it takes to keep them safe. and she knows things: exactly how much venom to use while in a snake morph to paralyze someone rather than kill them (<though maybe they’ll wish i had killed them!> misty chirps after demonstrating), which birds wouldn’t look too suspicious traveling in a flock together, and how much force a predator needs to bite with to tear someone’s arm clean off. and even though morphing back to human undoes any injuries the team takes while morphed, misty’s field medic knowledge has saved them from a messy death on several occasions. unlike david, she never betrays her team.
jackie taylor, part 2:
“you know, it could be worse,” shauna tells her one time, a day or two after she first gets trapped. she’s setting up the cage (“enclosure,” shauna calls it, but she knows what it is. it’s a cage). jackie’s not sure shauna’s right about that. she misses her body. she misses having opposable thumbs. she misses sleeping in an actual bed, and most of all she misses eating actual food instead of dry-ass hay and grass and shit. that last part’s not a hyperbole, by the way. rabbits and hares eat their own shit. she wishes they’d put that on the sign at the zoo, because she learned about that lovely habit the hard way.
but what probably hurts the most is the fact that she feels so fucking useless. like, aside from the occasional recon or espionage mission, she can’t exactly do much in a fight. she may be hare-brained, but she's not stupid; she sees the way the team looks at her hungrily when they’re in their predator battle-morphs. during one mission, when they head into the woods to investigate the rumors of a rogue faction of taxxons, shauna loses control of her morph, lets the wolf's mind overtake her own. if tai hadn't intervened, jackie knows she would've been a goner. tai tries to reassure her that she’s still an essential part of the team, that she's still good for something. but jackie knows all she's ever been good at, even before she became like this, is running and hiding.
she lives that way for a little over a miserable year. shauna does her best to make it better. she gives her fresh fruit and keeps the tv on for her while she’s away. then, the ellimist (aka space gamer jesus; he’s nearly omnipotent and on the animorphs' side, but can't directly interfere to help them) gives jackie an offer. in exchange for her help in establishing a colony of free hork-bajir, he’ll give her back the power to morph - with the catch that the hare is now her base form. so this leaves her in something of a catch-22; she can go back to being human but trap herself as a nothlit again and deprive herself of the only weapon she has against the yeerks, or keep living as a hare in order to keep morphing, to stay useful. so she compromises; she lives as a human for 2 hours at a time. she miraculously returns from the dead. she goes back to school, and picks up soccer again. every 2 hours on the dot her digital watch beeps and she excuses herself to demorph and remorph, and she sleeps as a hare just to be safe. its a precarious line to tread, but it works. and hey, she can enjoy actual human food again. and she can fight for real now. she picks a grizzly bear as her battle morph, and maybe she fights with a little less panache and grace than her friends, but still. she’s helping. and once this is all over, she’ll finally be able to stop hiding once and for all.
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(Thorinduil) “May I kiss you?”
Thorin doesn’t drink much because he’s a flirty/complimentary/sensual drunk; Thranduil finds this out the hard way (literally) when he shares his Dorwinion
Written using these prompts from @buzzin-rp-memes’s Kisses! Kisses! Kisses!
“May I kiss you?”
“I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a long time.”
“Who cares if someone sees us?”
“That was nice..”
Read on AO3
On Pillowfort
OR...
☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆💎🌲☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆
“May I kiss you?”
Thranduil pauses as he lifts his chalice for the millionth time that chill evening. He’s sitting in his portable throne—something that he brought that he KNOWS makes him seem stuck-up and full of himself; but he couldn’t care LESS when it’s a reminder of home, a comfort, and (as, mercifully, Bard has come to see) the only seat in Dale capable of seating his inhumanly proportioned ass—beneath the naked eaves of a bald cypress tree, the knobbly knees of which wind about him like the loving arms of an old friend (which, to be fair, she IS; he’d actually planted her here with Girion, himself, as an elvish sign of alliance—it pleases him greatly to know that she has, somehow, managed to catch back during the passed few decades and, thus, made a point to sit with her and chat). There’s a single flower in full bloom resting upon his crown—a gift from her bald cypress facilitated by his elven earth magic—which is no longer the mithril circlet of war that he recently road around with as a near permanent fixture.
It is wonderful to be free of it again.
(He abhors war.)
Blinking slowly, Thranduil carefully lowers his chalice onto the proffered gnarled root that’s risen astride his movable throne like it is a perfectly normal table (which, to be fair, it is—for him and his people) and studies the dwarf before him. Thorin Oakenshield has survived the Battle of Five Armies with grievous wounds (most notably: the hole in his foot and the OTHER hole in his bloody CHEST) and his people's infamously stubborn dwarvish spirit: while he suffered delirium for several days during his recovery, he was deemed more than able to drink recently by a host of both dwarven and elven healers—not that he’d’ve listened, anyway, to Thranduil’s people if they’d recommended any more bedrest.
(Foolish creatures, dwarrows...)
“I beg your pardon, King Under the Mountain,” the Elvenking asks with measure, pale eyes widening to soften his studious stare. There does not seem anything... overly wrong with the boy-king: certainly, he is unbelievably drunk; but, really, what else would he be with Thranduil’s precious Dorwinion in his belly?
“I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a long time. May I?”
Thranduil’s eyes are no longer wide for an illusion’s sake: they are simply wide; awed and round and quite possibly shining with unbridledly rising emotions—most notably shock, alarm, and fear (because, surely, not even a dwarf—THORIN—would be so cruel?). He isn’t entirely sure he heard the other right; so, he quietly inquires, “H-have you?”
Thorin nods, drunk on wine and ale and mead and his own enthusiasm (probably), “Ev’r since I met you... enchanting... creature~”
He breaks off into giggles, there, eyes shining like Long Lake under the starlight. His voice, which had been holding up surprisingly well for how drunk he is, slows and slurs as he begins to unwind under her bald cypress’ bare branches and lean untensely upon her risen roots as neither tree nor elf has ever seen before—not of dwarrows, at least, and even less of Thorin Oakenshield.
Perhaps he should never allow him near Dorwinion again...?
“I... I thank you,” the Elvenking murmurs, face somewhat flushed with fluster: he’s never been the one people flock to for such things—never been the one others call such things—and certainly never with such honest REVERENCE. Rather, it’s always been Galadriel (whom, yes, for all that he hates the Noldor Witch, does truly deserve it because she is as beautiful as she is powerful—unlike him...) and Thingol (another far more deserving than him of such things for he ruled what is still considered the greatest kingdom in all of Ardhon kindly and lovingly with Melian, a Maia akin to Yavanna herself, powerfully beside him); people so far out of his reach that he had never dared to hope that he’d one day be counted among them—least of all by the favor of a DWARF.
Even less by Thorin Oakenshield.
“However, I do not think this is a good idea.” He glances nervously away, catching the concerned eyes of his general, Feren, and smiling shakily at him. He raises a gentling palm to stay him where he is, not wanting to cause a scene after all they’ve done to bring The North to peace, before looking back at Thorin.
The dwarf seems to have misunderstood his reason for looking Feren’s way: “Who caaares... if someone sees us???”
Suddenly realizing the boy-king is RIGHT—ANYONE could see them out here, in the open, where an elf should feel safe and secure but Thranduil DOESN’T—the King of the Woodland Realm blushes bruisingly and bows his head. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wishes for more wine.
And less for Thorin.
“I care...” He fidgets after his quiet confession and silently wonders why that is: he is king and so is Thorin: they should be able to do what they want—ESPECIALLY if it would likely benefit their people; and wouldn’t this?
A union, of sorts, between their normally on-the-cusp-of-war realms?
But, no, it would not; chiefly because it would not be a real union: just a kiss. And, worse yet, it would be a kiss shared between a drunk dwarf and a sober elf.
There is no way that would go over well.
“I do not wish to make anyone angry,” Thranduil tries to explain, wondering why while he does it as—obviously—Thorin is drunk and probably less reasonable than he normally is (which, honestly, was never very much to begin with). Peripherally, he figures it is simply out of habit born of both logic and his father (“Remember, ion,” his beloved adar had once said [for he really only ever need say something once to his quick-learning son], “There will be times when you and others do not see eye-to-eye; and, during those times, it is best not to ire: either explain your reasoning in the hopes that they will change their minds or explain yourself to everyone else so that THEY will understand what you see and either choose to follow you, instead, or not, later on, begrudge you.”).
(His father always had the greatest advice.)
(He really misses him in these moments.)
(Always, he misses him.)
(But thus especially.)
“Then, kiss me,” Thorin urges, voice deep and husky and wanting—of him and his kiss and his SOMETHING hidden within it—and weirdly, hotly, DOING things it has no business doing to anyone let alone someone Thorin supposedly hates.
(No, not supposedly: he DOES hate Thranduil and that is just another reason whatever is happening shouldn’t be and the Elvenking must refuse him.)
(Even if he suddenly realizes he does not really WANT to...)
“I can not...” Thranduil shakes his head, voice soft but eyes, he knows, staring—imploring. He wonders what that would be like—FEEL like: Thorin’s pale lips APPEAR soft enough; but Thranduil has not kissed many but his wife and... other than them, Thorin’s lips seem rougher and more weathered by time or age; and his BEARD, O, it looks nothing like what he has felt before so...
No; no, he can not think like this.
He can NOT—!
~
Thranduil’s heart flutters where it lies in the center of his forest, buried under tree and leaf and frost a plenty, and surrounded by slumbering spring blossoms: Thorin’s lips really ARE soft.
And warm—wonderfully so. They taste like wine, honey (from their mead), meat, and the sweet flesh of a nut (oak, perhaps? like his namesake? Mirkwood’s white oak acorns ARE a favorite of his people when boiled or ground to flour). He was right about the wear and tear: there is no luxury, here, in this warrior turned boy-king; and it feels wonderfully rakish against his own silken lips.
And his BEARD!
O—it is incredible! Rough and burning and biting and raking, like hard grass or the thinnest of needle leaves, and yet still soft like moss and terrycloth and FUR.
Thranduil moans, entire body shivering with succulent sensations, and whimpers as Thorin takes advantage of his now gaping mouth and plunders the depth of it with a ferocity that only serves to further take the Elfking’s breath away.
His knees go weak and it occurs to him that he’d probably be falling onto them were it not for his portable throne and the protectively twining roots of her kind and supportive bald cypress. He whines and jolts as the dizzyingly thick tongue in his mouth flicks about his teeth and tastes his cheeks and caresses his palate.
And then there’s a hand on his throat: one that’s thick as the tongue and as hot; one that’s as strong and rough as a tree’s trunk but warm like the summer sun; one that’s more than capable of strangling him seabound but doesn’t even try to—instead, it caresses the length of his neck, callouses catching on soft skin, and pets him as one does something particularly loved; and, again, his knees weak and his voice weeps and his eyes wane as his whole being whines and wants.
And then it’s over. Thorin’s pulling back with a drunken dreamy smile on his face, the weathered palm of his hand cupping and curving about Thranduil’s dry throat like an old and worn-out leather collar that’s startling and frightening and comforting all at once—like it’s always been there and yet never was.
And must/should/HAS to now STAY and never leave him.
“That was nice...” The Dwarfking’s voice is as dazed as his face, eyes warm and soft like sunbaked sand and sea and, for a moment, his elven counter wonders about that—about how calm and comforting and CLEAR he it all is—and if, perhaps, this is what prompts so many other elves before him to GO: to SAIL.
And if, perhaps, this is why HE has never felt it—heard that soothing song.
Why would he if his home sounds so much better? If THORIN feels better.
Thranduil feels his face flush straight through to the tips of his gently curled ears and looks anywhere but the beautiful smiling dwarf before him; “O-oh?”
“Yea,” Thorin nods, hair bouncing gaily with his enthused nod. Feren’s nerves and fears are so strong Thranduil can feel them just as well as the air heated between himself and his the dwarf; and he forces himself to lift his staying palm again to prevent his general from slaying his counterpart where he stands.
Sadly, Bard is the only thing capable of staying Dain, right now, and, while sober, he’s only thus enough to haphazardly grab the Ironhills’ dwarf by the shoulder, not enough to shut him up: “Fuck ye dain!?!?!?”
“Kissin’ my gorgeous elf!” Thranduil bruises under the intensity of his own blush, entire body constricting as everyone gapes at both Thorin’s brazen words and the utterly blinding (however drunken) grin plastered across his ruddy face.
The Dorwinion must have really gotten to him.
Is still getting to him: “We should do it again!”
~
“Uuugh...” Thorin groans and it sounds like he’s about to throw up (yet again...), “I am NEVER drinking Dorwinion again...”
“Good,” Thranduil quietly clips, deft fingers cleaning the beginnings of sweat from the dwarf’s brow. “Because I am never sharing so much as a drop with you, again. Honestly...” Silvery eyes focus on their task to the point of obsessiveness, ensuring that they do not stray towards the slightly parted and panting lips boasted by the rosy-cheeked ruffian under his care or his dark lake eyes.
He can feel them staring, though; inquiring.
“... Do you...” The Elvenking shifts, face flushing again as flashes of last night attack him with a heat far more pleasant but just as frightening as dragon fire, “Remember... anything that you did...?” He rings out his cotton handkerchief but does not use it, letting it rest and cool his person through his beating fingers.
Thorin is silent for a long moment; then he hums quietly, “... I kissed you.”
“You did.” Thranduil breathes deeply so he doesn’t bite his lip, worry it and thus show how badly aforementioned action affected him.
“Did you hate it?”
Thorin’s own question, what his eyes had been inquiring this whole time, catches his elven counter off guard. Thranduil turns, finally, to stare back at him, face flushing again with some mix of passion, shame, and DESIRE. “... No...”
“Would you oppose me doing it again?”
“I will not give you more wine.” He’s firm, the statement of all statements, and looks away to hide his hurt. The reminder that Thorin was nothing but a drunk last night and thus probably would have kissed anyone—including Galadriel, probably, like anyone else would prefer after meeting her; or Elrond, even—leaves a sourness in his stomach and a burn in his eyes that feels like dragon.
There is only ever death and dragon in his life—“I meant the kiss, idiot.”
Thranduil stares at him. He didn’t even realize he’d moved his head.
“Would you oppose me kissing you, again?”
Thranduil stares and stares and stares.
~
Finally, he swallows: “... No...”
Thorin grins, eyes wide and bright like a child and the midnight sky in spring.
He sits up and gently grasps the slightly wobbly chin of the ancient Elvenking.
Then, he kisses him like he really meant to—like he’s really always wanted to—and smiles into it—into the lips of his One—because this isn’t JUST a kiss—more than just a press of lips—but a PROMISE: “Good; for there will be more—MUCH more.”
(And so there was: many, MANY, years of much, MUCH more kisses; and love.)
#thranduil#thorin#thorinduil#thorin/thranduil#thorin x thranduil#the hobbit#mywriting#fanfiction#fanfic#prompt fill#kiss#angst#romance#selfish#trigger warnings#alcohol#dorwinion wine
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powdered sugar (n.k.)
summary: nanami kento loves chuckling at people that turn into idiots for something as silly as love, but he doesn't realize he's the exact idiot he jokes about.
wc: 1.5k
warnings: f!reader, tiny mention of smoking, fluff!!
note: i'm back!! i was so in the zone when i wrote this, i really hope you guys like it! i haven't been getting a lot of interaction lately so hopefully this jumpstarts my account a little bit while i get back in the groove of writing <3 i want to test out writing for jjk, so hopefully this does well :) also, if you try to tell me nanami is out of character you're wrong <3
nanami has always been a stranger to love. any love that has appeared in his life has been fleeting and he never welcomed it with open arms. he's hesitant, and he might even say that he's keeping love at an arm's length on purpose. he doesn't want to know love, because what then? welcoming unfamiliar feelings and letting them root in his psyche, gone in just a moment's notice over small mistakes? love has always played a role as a silly caricature for nanami, something to chuckle at in books and films when the protagonist is proven an idiot for their tenderness and care for another person.
it doesn't dawn on him that maybe love is more of an acquaintance that you never meant to know. a pesky coworker that you try your best to ignore that becomes a part of your life, or an annoying family member that you still find yourself flocking to at family gatherings. it doesn't dawn on him until he thinks about you when he shouldn't.
you work at the bakery. the one on the third corner that he passes going to work, the one across the street from his normal commute to the office. it has a quaint exterior, a nice hole-in-the-wall place that he stumbled across upon moving into the neighborhood a few months ago. when he went for the first time, you recommended him the blueberry scone. you told him it's a favorite of yours, and the baker makes ginormous scones that last for two cups of tea. he indulged, buying your favorite and a lemon pastry of some kind. he didn't know how to tell you he doesn't like blueberries too much, so he bought it anyway. he ate it with his tea that morning when he arrived at the office, making sure his tea was extra strong to overpower the blueberries.
after that morning, he kept going to that bakery. usually before work, sometimes over his lunch break, or even right before it closes so he has pastries for an early meeting the next morning. he doesn't think twice about why he goes so often. sure, you bring a smile to his face before he faces the shitstorm of his office. you make lovely jokes that he finds terribly endearing. but that's what friends do, right? he's just some regular that you're obligated to chat up for an extra couple bucks in the tip jar.
but, a few months into this habit of his, he finds that his stomach drops when he realizes you're not working that morning. it never used to do that. he found himself waking up excited to see your face, rather than tasting the new pastries. he thought about you throughout the day, wondering if you're having a good shift, if the patrons have been nice to you, or if you're excited to go home to... someone.
he physically cringes at that last thought. he shouldn't be thinking like this. he doesn't know why he's thinking like this. he doesn't recognize what he's feeling. he's never had such strong feelings for a person that he's jealous at the prospect of them having a partner.
oh god, is this what liking someone is like? he thinks. he hopes not, because you're overruling every thought in his mind and it's quite distracting. he doesn't know what to do. should he talk to you and see you more? talk to and see you less?
he opts for the latter, choosing to take a break and figure out what the hell is wrong with him. he starts making his own pastries, even blueberry ones. he goes a different way to work, totally avoiding any possible temptation. despite of all these measures he takes, you're still always on his mind.
he confides in the secretary on his floor, nakamura. she's the office nag, constantly taking rounds around the cubicles and offices to ask about potential girlfriends, boyfriends, kids, all that. nanami has been one of her biggest targets for the last handful of months, so he figures it can't hurt to indulge her a little bit.
the two settle into a table in the back corner of the cafeteria over coffee and some of the pastries that he made—they're not nearly as impressive as the ones you sell, but they're still good considering the man that made them.
"there's this girl. i used to see her all the time, she works at a bakery i frequent." his voice is nervous. he's never verbalized his emotions like this, he hardly knows how to approach it.
"for a while, i thought she was just this kind girl, always happy and... excited to talk about croissants. i've always had people at places that i look forward to seeing and catching up with, but none like her. i got upset when she wasn't there, i hope she's having a good day, and i get jealous of some fake significant other of hers that i imagine in my head. i don't even know if she has one. i tried to stop going so she wouldn't distract me anymore and i could clear my head, but that didn't help. the only thing that changed was i missed seeing her even more. i've never had such a strong opinion of somebody, i don't know what it means," he takes a breath, "i don't have a lot of friends, really, is it just that i want to be friends with her?"
he finally looks up to face the woman he's been rambling to for far too long. she's smug, but with an incredulous expression painted across her face.
"don't look at me like that," he grumbles.
"do you think she's pretty?"
this question sends him even further spiraling. does he? of course he does.
"she's beautiful. her hair is this wonderful color, especially in the sun. the sun shines right through the front window at the perfect time every morning, and it shines. her uniform is this ridiculous chef's coat, even though she's told me herself that she's not a chef nor a baker, she just makes the coffee and sells the pastries and bread. oh, and one time he had her sprinkling powdered sugar on the donuts and she got some on her cheeks, she looked... adorable. oh, and her cheeks. i could just..." he trails off, deep into thought.
"you're an idiot, nanamin. you're in love with her. go tell her, right now."
"what do you mean? i can't just do that. what if she says no and thinks i'm a creep?"
"who cares if she says no, telling her will make you feel better."
with more scolding from his coworker, he informs his boss that he's leaving early due to 'family problems'. he rushes to the bakery, silently praying you're still on shift since it's well into the afternoon.
he realizes that he still hasn't been back since disappearing, and now he hopes you even remember who he is.
he opens the door to the bakery, heart beating out of his chest. the first thing he notices is that it's empty, save for you behind the counter. you're sprinkling powdered sugar on the donuts, and he immediately recognizes the powder on your cheeks.
the bell on the door catches your attention, and you look up.
"welcome in!" a flash of recognition crosses your eyes. "nanami!"
his heart clenches with the way you say his name. it's the first time he's ever heard it come from your mouth.
"where have you been? we-i missed you! how are you?"
"do you have a few minutes, y/n?"
"of course, there's no one here and mr. yamashita stepped out for a cigarette."
"i think you're wonderful," he cringes at his opening statement, "or... you're very pretty, y/n, and i think you have a wonderful smile and you always make me so happy whenever i see you. i don't really know you too well, but i want to know you so much more. i haven't been coming for a while because all i could think about was you, and i didn't want to constantly think about a girl i could never have a shot with. clearly that didn't work, so i just wanted to come see you and tell you how i feel."
his confession comes out as a mess of words, his cheeks getting redder and redder with each admission. you feel giddy thinking about a tall and stoic man like nanami kento being a flustered mess right in front of you.
"nanami-"
"wait! i'm so sorry, i didn't ask. are you seeing anybody?"
"well, there is this guy that i've been wanting to ask out for the longest time," his gut sinks, "but he just did all the work for me. so i guess i am seeing somebody."
"oh, what's his name?"
"dummy," you mutter and lean across the counter and plant a kiss on his cheek, accidentally hitting the corner of his mouth more than his cheek. the powdered sugar that paints your cheek now paints the tip of nanami's nose, glowing a flustered red.
#nanami kento#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento fluff#nanami fluff#kento nanami x reader#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#nanami kento imagine#nanami imagine#kento nanami
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“I Am Not Starfire” Review
I would like to preface this by saying these are my own opinions and you are allowed to like/dislike this comic:)))
Okay, first off I’m getting straight to the point in that I did not like this graphic novel. The art and colors were nice and some of the concepts were good, but it was poorly executed and on the line of being harmful.
No, I do not mean “sjw” harmful in which the majority of backlash for this graphic novel came from. I don’t care that Mandy(Stars daughter) is a lesbian. And I don’t care that she’s overweight. In fact, I applaud the comic for at least not mentioning anything wrong with being lgbt and barely mentioning the fact that Mandy is overweight.
We need to learn that yes, addressing things like homophobia, racism, body shaming, sexism is an issue, but we need to normalize it in media and speak out about it in person. Even if catcalling, rape, homophobia is depicted as wrong in a comic, it still fuels that hatred from those people instead of normalizing these things. Hence why being called straight and white are “normal” to those hateful people. (Which I don’t agree with obviously.)
And on that note, THAT is why this comic is harmful. Not ONLY is Star slut shamed by her own daughter, who, btw, rags on Star not liking her appearance even though Star literally has not said anything about it and is supportive of her, but she’s also talked about how hot she is by other students/people in a degrading manner.
There’s nothing wrong with being sexy, but this comic both insults Star for being sexy while also tries to show being objectified is wrong bc the people who do so are assholes. You can call a character pretty without having at least one male character shout something gross, which leads back to my whole normalizing argument.
It is harmful for Mandy, the main character we’re supposed to be rooting for, to shame her own mother for dressing how she likes, and then complains her mother doesn’t like how she looks or acts. Which??? Star doesn’t??? She never says anything about Mandys weight, hair, attitude, or grades except for the fight about Mandy walking out of the SAT.
That’s not okay. You can’t have a character wanting to be excepted for who she is while hating on everyone else.
She literally has the “I’m not like other girls” attitude and that is the best way to describe it.
Probably doesn’t help she was made practically as a self insert by a woman who clearly doesn’t know how teenagers work and was cast aside during her high school years.
I mean, seriously? Having two popular kids be mean and talk about leggings and carbs while their most popular friend rolls their eyes? Which 2000 teen movie is this one from? And like, leggings have been in style for a while now. LuLu Lemon leggings? Ever heard of them? Literally every popular so called “basic” girl has them?
What would’ve been cool is to see Mandy grow out of her “I hate girls faze”, which, is a thing most girls go through in middle school/high school until they learn slut shaming isn’t okay. That would’ve been a nice way to reconcile with her mother. The realization that “oh shit I’ve been hating my mother because of what OTHER people think and say about her. I’ve been shaming her in my head for wearing “revealing” clothes because I’m mad at how other people flock to her while I’m an outcast.” Would’ve been way better.
And the whole Blackfire thing was super rushed, and brings more questions. Why didn’t Star just fight her? She clearly can. Star would never let Blackfire hurt anyone, let alone her daughter. And what’s the point of Mandy complaining shes different and won’t live up to expectations of the PEOPLE AROUND HER not her mother, if she does in the end? She didn’t NEED to get powers, even though it was pretty obvious she would. And it would’ve tied up the story nicely if she didn’t. Hell, Star doesn’t even WANT her to be a hero.
Lastly, the love interest. She was sweet, kind, popular, and accepting. Everything Star is. I thought maybe this graphic novel would have a part where Mandy is upset because she feels Star likes her crush as a better daughter than her, but, no. She’s just a sweet girl who’s way too good for Mandy. Their whole conflict was bc she posted a picture of her with the Titans, when it was established she always posts pictures of her face and is seemed to be outgoing. And she did it because of a dare? Like literally nothing was her own fault. And even if it was, she met a bunch of heroes. Who wouldn’t take a picture with them and post it?
Mandy should’ve seen her taking the photo right? So why didn’t she just say “hey please don’t post that right now?”
Also there’s the whole mystery of her father. Which both slightly slut shames Kori because of the possibilities but at the same time heavily implies Dick is her father. Why Dick wouldn’t stay with his own daughter or let her know? Idk.
In conclusion, this comic was very bad. Not because of Mandys appearance and sexual orientation, but because of her character. Her whole thing is “I’m not like other girls”, “it’s not a phase mom”, and “you just don’t understand me.” That’s the best way to sum up her character. Star was so sweet while she was bratty. Her love interest was like a mini Star who she loved even though they have the same personality and everything. Mandy never really learned anything until Star was presumed dead/badly injured by Blackfire. Mandy was rude, slut shamed Star, and was written by someone who doesn’t understand high school and hates the “popular” kids. Lovely art and colors, shitty writing and concepts.
Overall rating: 1/10. I really did not like this comic. Dick was the best part for me which I hope says a lot.
#dc#dc comics#robin#I am not starfire#dick Grayson#nightwing#starfire#kori anders#Mandy#mandy anders#mandy grayson???
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Blackpink HC / One Shots: Enemies to Lovers, College AU (1/2)
Requested: Yes
Warnings / Misc. -- Bickering, Rivalry, Fluff
A/N: Hey everyone! Anon, I assume you wanted to see each individual relationship with the girls and not OT4 x Reader. If not, I apologize, but I hope you enjoy this regardless.
This post includes Jisoo and Jennie. If you would like to see Rosé and Lisa's, click the link below.
Click for Rosé and Lisa
♡ Happy Reading ♡
🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
Jisoo
Kim Jisoo: The girl at the top of her class, breezing through her school years with little competition whatsoever. She was used to winning, and anyone that ever tried to challenge her eventually gave up.
You: Also used to being at the top of your class, you were the first person to actually give Jisoo a run for her money. You didn't shy away when challenged by her, and that took her aback.
Your rivalry was one rooted in academics.
When a new project was assigned and you were allowed to choose your teammates, everyone would flock to the two of you in hopes of getting picked.
Bragging rights were awarded to whoever had the longest line of people.
Impatiently waiting to see who scored higher on tests.
Rubbing it in when you did better, and vice versa.
"Ha! Take that, Jisoo. I got a 98."
"Don't get cocky, Y/N. I beat you by 6 points last week."
"Yeah, yeah," you brush her off. "Look who's on top now." You hold your paper up, smiling when she rolls her eyes.
Other competitions were held, and even the teachers caught on and would adjust their lessons accordingly.
"Class, today we'll be having a set of one on one debates, and an anonymous vote will determine the winner of each. The person who defends their opinion the most effectively will win. Jisoo and Y/N, you're up first."
Although losing was always annoying, it made you respect each other a little more.
You both loathed and revered each other, though you'd never let that secret out.
Fighting for the best scholarships and rankings.
Constant bickering and one liners in class
"Should I go ahead and apologize now, or is it okay to wait?"
"Apoligize for what?"
"Ending your career."
*unintelligible mumbling*
"What was that, Y/N?" Jisoo inquires, cocking her head to the side as she narrows her eyes at you.
"I said: you're going down."
She scoffs at that, unaffected. "Please, I'd like to see you try."
You ended up winning that day, and she was all *surprised pikachu*
School would always be interesting and eventful with her
Pretty much everyone else can tell that you have a thing for one another, but the two of you remain oblivious.
Turning Point
Both of you joined the academic team when you enrolled, which meant that you'd be going toe to toe with other school teams in pursuit of the winning title.
On one of your overnight field trips to face off against another school, you were assigned to the same hotel room.
"Mrs. Wilson, I can't stay with her--" You walk down the hotel hallway behind your instructor, hoping she'll see your point. Her reasoning for putting you together on the roster is beyond you.
"Y/N, it's only for a night. You know we can't afford to give all of you individual rooms; our budget's already small." She reasons, eventually turning towards you when she reaches the elevator.
"Alright," you relent with a sigh, putting your hands up.
What she says next surprises you. "Who knows, you might enjoy it." A knowing look shines in her eye, and a small smirk threatens to tug at her features.
The elevator dings just as you go to question her about it, and she bids you farewell before heading in.
You can do this, Y/N. It's just one night; how bad can it be? You ask yourself, taking your sweet time in going back to the room.
---
An Hour Later
In an attempt to kill some time and recover from the fatigue your long road trip brought on, you've been trying to relax and take a nap. In fashion with your typical luck, though, Jisoo is making that nearly impossible.
"Jisoo, turn it down!" You groan, tossing a pillow at her head. She sits on the loveseat at the foot of your bed, completely fixated on the images flashing before her eyes as she plays her video game.
"Shhh, stop distracting me." She says over her shoulder, making you huff.
You value your pride too much to ask nicely, so you suck it up and stick it out for a little while longer. When she lets out a loud shout a few minutes later, though, you've reached the end of your patience.
Wordlessly, you get out of bed and stomp over to the TV, standing directly in front of it.
"Y/N, move! I'll lose!"
You stay there with your arms crossed, and are soon rewarded by the game's voiceover announcing: "Game over."
She huffs and sets her controller down, clearly upset.
"Sucks when people don't listen, huh?" You challenge, still mad that you've been denied a proper nap for so long. Every time you'd be right on the cusp of being drug under, slipping in and out of glorious slumber, she'd do something to ruin it. You're cranky now, and being petty seems like a just punishment for her.
"I can't believe you did that," she shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "That was the championship match!"
"Oh well," you shrug, a smirk tugging at your lips at that new piece of info. Perhaps justice has been served after all.
With one more warning glance at her to tell her not to do it again, you go back to the bed and get comfy, settling under the warm blankets.
---
30 Minutes Later
"ON YOUR RIGHT, ABOUT TO ROUND THE CORNER!" Jisoo bellows out, smirking when she feels you stir behind her. You scowl, wiping the sleep from your eyes.
"Jisoo, I swear to God," you grumble, feeling the irritation rise in you all over again. You get up again and approach her, but she has a plan this time. In one fluid motion, she sticks her foot out in front of you, making you stumble and fall to the ground.
"What the--" as you prepare to reprimand her, you see something out of your peripheral. Aided by your new perspective, you spot the remote controller on the coffee table right in front of you, just an arm's length away.
When Jisoo notices that you haven't screamed at her yet, she looks down and realizes her mistake. A dramatic moment passes where you both lock eyes, before immediately diving for the remote. You manage to get to it first, quickly hugging it close to your body and rolling away from her. She pounces a second later, reaching her hands around you to pry it from your grip.
"Give it back, Y/N!"
"No!"
You writhe underneath her until she manages to get the upper hand, straddling your hips in an attempt to pin you down. She sits back on her knees, gazing down at you as your chests heave from the effort you've exerted.
"Give it." She commands, holding her hand out expectantly.
You shake your head, amused that she thought that would be enough to sway you. "No."
"Then you leave me no choice." Her hands dart forward to your abdomen, and she begins tickling you mercilessly in order to make you surrender. Calls for her to cease her assault struggle past your lips, but you know it's futile. She's a determined person just like you, and she won't stop until she gets what she wants.
So, after taking a second to think of a way out of your predicament, a brilliant idea pops into your head.
You finally let her pry your arms open, smirking when she cheers and claims victory. In one fluid motion, just as she had done before, you wrap your leg around one of hers and flip her onto her back before leaning down to kiss her. She tenses up at first, but her hands end up working their way to your hips as her lips begin to move against yours.
Your plan is backfiring a bit; you only intended to shock her and buy yourself time to steal the remote back -- you never thought you'd actually enjoy the feeling of her kiss. You tilt your head to the side to get a better angle and slowly skim your hand down to hers, where the device is tightly clutched. Her other hand has come up to your jaw, which she's gently guiding as she steals another kiss from your lips.
Her distracted state made it easy to get what you were after, and soon -- much too soon for Jisoo's liking -- you pull away with a victorious smile. She doesn't know what to say; in all honesty, she's almost forgotten how to breathe with the way you kissed her senseless.
"I win." You grin, hopping off of her and shutting the TV off before crawling back into the bed. She stays in that same position for a couple minutes, laying on the floor as she tries to sort through what the hell just happened. She can't even be upset right now; she brings her fingertips to her lips, skimming them over the heart-shaped pillows as she smiles.
The Fallout
Things were a little tense when you shared the bed that night
Anytime you'd roll over and readjust your head on the pillow in your sleep, unknowingly positioning your lips dangerous close to hers, her heartbeat would pick up and she'd have to roll over again
You pretended to be asleep when she scooted back against you, pressing herself against your front in search of the heat that your body provided. You brought an arm around her, enclosing her in a soft embrace that had her blushing crimson
Subtle flirting at the competition the next day
Sticking up for each other when one of the other teams got a little rude
"Hey, don't talk about her like that!" Jisoo warns, glaring at the student from your rival school. His uniform is mussed and unkempt, leaving it as no surprise that he was the one to say such a thing.
"Why do you care?" He laughs back, spurred on as his friends snicker along.
The question catches her off guard; just days ago, she was the one bantering with you and testing your limits. Now though, when someone else is taking it too far, she can't help but feel angry. "Because she's my teammate. Now knock it off or I'll report you to your dean for unsportsmanlike behavior."
He scoffs, but eventually opts to grumble out another insult and turn away, nursing his bruised ego.
"Thanks, Chu." You quietly say, having witnessed the whole encounter from the row behind her. A small smile tugs at your lips at her actions, warming your heart.
"No problem, Y/N. But you'd better help me beat him; I'm not losing to that idiot." You laugh and agree, shaking her hand to seal your pact. She tries not to get too caught up on the smoothness of your skin or how it reminds her of last night, but her brain doesn't listen.
Needless to say, you beat them.
Your team stopped by a nice restaurant on the way back home for a celebratory dinner
Jisoo sat beside you
Cue the blushing and quiet flirting
It's a new side of her that you're not used to seeing. Now, instead of being all hardcore and witty, a simple look from you can make her blush
It doesn't always, though; sometimes she grows bold and lays a hand on your thigh for a moment, laughing at something you said
It's giving very much so gay panic™️, but you wouldn't trade it for the world
After the dinner, you go back to the bus and sit in your seats (which aren't together, surprisingly).
As you scroll through your phone, you get a text from Jisoo. Attached to the message is an invitation to one of her favorite mobile games.
"Hey, Y/N. Will you be my player 2? 🎮"
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Jennie
Jennie Kim: The girl who practically ran the school, always getting her way and never having to lift a finger. She was royalty: the queen bee sat atop her throne, giving orders to the masses that they followed blindly. The whole situation seemed straight out of a poorly-written teenage movie, and it always annoyed you.
You: The girl who stuck to herself, only having a close group of friends that she talked to. You weren't popular, per se, but you weren't cursed to exist at the bottom of the food chain, either. Many people knew you, but you only associated with a select few.
You avoid the "popular" crowd a majority of the time, opting to spend spare time in between classes in the library or outside, doing homework
Jennie is the type of person that has people lined up, waiting for her to ask them to do hers for her. She gets to skip class and do whatever she wants, and she usually takes advantage of that.
She's never been mean to you directly, but you've seen her and her posse pick on people in typical mean girl fashion
You've never noticed the way that she usually targets people who've said bad things about you. She sticks up for you without you even knowing.
So, as you would expect, when your best friend called you and begged you to accompany her to one of the biggest parties of the year (hosted by none other than Jennie's brother), you were definitely surprised. Neither of you are the type to go to anything like that, but you know that she secretly wants to peek into that world of luxury.
"Pleaaaaase, Y/N? I'll do your laundry for a month."
"Fine."
The Turning Point
Your stylish boots crunch lightly against the concrete as you stand outside of the frat house, grimacing when you notice a boy stumble to the side of the house and get sick.
"We might have to bump that offer up to two months," you say to your friend, leaning onto her car as she checks her makeup in the side mirror.
"If it keeps you here for an hour or so, then fine." She smiles, taking your hand and leading you towards the building. Upon opening the door you're immediately greeted by waves of the strong bass of whatever song is playing. Their rhythmic thumps reverberate around the house, and you choose to seek some semblance of peace and quiet by heading to the kitchen. Your friend comes with, and the two of you push your way to the drink bar for refreshments.
"Thanks again for coming along, Y/N/N. You're the best." She leans into you, saying the phrase loud enough for you to hear over the music.
"I know," you hold your head up higher, self-assured. "You'd better go find Benji before things get too wild," you tell her, taking note of how the crowd is quickly growing in size. Benji, her longtime crush, is the only reason you really agreed to tag along; she's been head over heels for him for as long as you've known her, and you see this as the perfect opportunity for her to finally tell him. She needed some backup, and you always come through for your friends.
"Alright, I'll come find you later," she says, nervously smiling as she kisses your cheek as a farewell. You shout encouragement to her retreating figure, grinning wildly when you see her throw her hand up in the air.
Considering you made a drink for her just then before sending her off, you take the time now to make one for yourself. Your hands skim through the air overtop of the different bottles, searching for your favorite flavors and types to mix. As you go to reach across the table for one of them, disaster strikes.
You gasp as cold liquid lands on your shoulder, following gravity's command and rushing down your back and chest. A flurry of apologies follows suit, and you feel a soft hand on the small of your back as you go to turn around.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," Jennie says, covering her mouth in shock. For a moment you're worried that she was dared to do this -- that perhaps her friends sent her off to ruin your outfit and embarrass you. When you find sincere regret in her deep brown eyes, though, all of those worries melt away.
"It's alright," you assure her, shaking your arms to get rid of some of the sticky drink that's trailed its way down. You set your half-filled cup on the table, no longer interested in getting anymore now.
"At least let me wash the shirt for you. I have a coat you can wear while its getting clean."
You furrow your brows at the offer, not expecting that from her. Not only has she apologized, which is practically unheard of from the prima donna, but she's willing to do something for another person?
"Uh, okay." You do your best to mask the confusion in your tone, but it's still plain to see.
"Follow me," she politely instructs, leading you down the hall towards what you assume is the laundry room.
She flips the light on and shuts the door behind you, walking into the closet to search for the spare set of close she keeps here.
When she emerges again, fluffy coat in hand, she begins stumbling over the words she was about about to say. Her eyes land on you, taking in the expanse of exposed skin now that you've stripped off the shirt you were wearing. She can't help but admire the sight; she subconsciously bites her lip, only being brought back to reality when you wave your hand in front of her face.
"Hello? Earth to Jennie?"
"What?" She eventually asks, shaking her head to rid herself of the thoughts swarming in it. She's always had a sort of thing for you, but she never imagined you could look that good. It should be a crime.
"I asked if you have a bathroom around here, so I can, ya know... wash up a bit. Whatever you had to drink is pretty sticky." You chuckle, moving your arm to show her how far it's spread.
"This room over here," she says, approaching a door on the wall opposite you, "is actually a bathroom. Convenient, right?" She asks, flipping the light on for you.
"Absolutely," you perk up, glad to know that you won't have to strut down the hall in your sports bra to get to a bathroom.
She steps to the side and pushes the door open for you, nearly melting when you give her a little wave and shut it behind yourself. She's got it bad.
She takes your shirt and throws it in the washer before setting the knobs correctly, knowing the best combos by heart. She and her brother are close, so it's not uncommon for her to come by and help him with chores when he gets swamped.
A few minutes later you come out of the bathroom clean and dry, nervously fidgeting with your hands as she turns to look at you again. Having the Jennie Kim looking at you in such a way and having her so close is a bit overwhelming, and you're not exactly sure how to deal with it.
"Here," she says, reaching around you to slide her jacket onto your arms. Her face hovers dangerously close to yours as she does, making you hold your breath in anticipation. She pulls the jacket closed, adjusting it so that it lays right, and you look into her eyes.
"Thanks, Jen."
Her heart speeds up at the nickname, though she tries not to show it.
"No problem, sweet thing." She flirts, taking you aback.
Just as you go to say something more, the door blasts open and a couple of her friends pop in. "There you are Jennie! What are you-- oh," they say, watching as the two of you spring apart.
When they realize who you are, they laugh among themselves. "What're you doing in here with her?" They ask, looking you up and down before ultimately appearing unimpressed. Jennie glances at you again, and you can see her going through some sort of inner turmoil.
"Thank God you guys showed up; she won't quit talking. I was just about to leave." She laughs, regaining the bitchy aura that she's known for. You set your jaw and nod, remembering why you choose to stay away from people like them.
"Wow, Jennie. You really had me fooled," you bite back, a bit shocked, but not surprised. You keep your eyes on hers as you take her jacket off and let it drop to the floor in front of her, grabbing a spare towel from the hamper on your way out the door. Her friends scoff at you, wondering what such a nobody like you thinks they're doing treating Jennie like that. You brush past them and send her one last look, conveying all the emotions you feel with a mere glance.
She's disappointed in herself, and she hangs her head as the girls scoop the designer material up and hand it to her.
----
45 Minutes Later
Just 15 more minutes, Y/N; totally doable. You reason with yourself. Jennie left the laundry room soon after you, leaving it vacant for you to put your shirt in the dryer and retrieve it when it was done. Now, clad in the warm material, you sit outside by the fire. Stars are shining brightly in the night sky, illuminating it so beautifully that your mind is taken off of what happened. They twinkle for you, and the sight puts you at ease.
What has that pleasant feeling dissipating in a second, however, is the sound of Jennie's voice as she exits the patio door.
She's talking to her friends about some boy that's in love with her, as the whole school seems to be, and you roll your eyes. With the moment officially ruined, you decide to head back into the house and spend the rest of your sentence there.
Once you stand up from your seat and turn around to take your leave, her friends notice you. "Jesus, you're really obsessed, aren't you? Are you following her or something?" One of them, a snarky blonde from earlier, asks.
You laugh at that. "Hardly," you glance at Jennie, though she avoids eye contact. "I'm sure you'd like that, though. Give you something to talk about other than your split ends." She reels back at your boldness, prepared to start a fight.
"You bitc--"
"Stop," Jennie finally steps in, cutting the girl off. She moves between the two of you, putting a hand on your chest and looking into your eyes.
"Jennie, I don't know what her problem is," the blonde squeaks out, trying to defend her actions.
"The problem doesn't lie with her," she tells her, leaving her puzzled. Jennie continues, "I lied earlier; I'm the one who invited her to the laundry room because I spilled my drink on her." You narrow your eyes at her following her statement, wondering where she's going with this.
"We probably would've kissed, too, if you hadn't walked in."
Your heart speeds up a little at that, but you're still hurt by what she did earlier. Having her be one way with you in private and another in public is never a good sign.
"I'm done with you guys. You turn me into something I'm not," she looks between the small following that's accrued, letting them know how she's been feeling for the past bit. The majority of them are stuck up and entitled, and seeing the hurt in your eyes put things into perspective for her. She likes you, and she wants to be better because of that.
"I don't understand, Jennie," one of them asks, sounding like she's on the brink of tears. Are these people really that invested? You know the hierarchy of popularity is confusing, but they make it seem like she's breaking up with them.
"We're not friends anymore. Not until you get your heads out of your asses and start being nicer."
The crowd clearly doesn't know how to react at her sudden change in attitude, but they mutter out various responses before some of them break away.
You look down at her and glance to the house, wordlessly telling her to follow you so that you can have a moment alone to talk. You lead her over to the patio and stand against the wall.
"I'm sorry," she says, sounding relieved to finally get the words out. Her previous actions have been weighing heavily on her, and she's been doing some introspection. It's not entirely all of a sudden, though; she's been questioning why she still hangs out with them for a while now. This encounter just confirmed her desire to leave them.
"I shouldn't have lied like that. I know it hurt you." She looks away, feeling disappointed again.
"Yeah, it definitely wasn't fun to have my crush talk about me like that." You nod, shoving your hands into your pockets.
"Crush?" Her head raises up, doing a terrible job of concealing the hopefulness she feels blossoming.
"Crush." You lightly smile at the way she blushes at your simple confirmation. She's too adorable for her own good; it's really no wonder than she has everyone on their knees for her.
"Thank you for apologizing," you say after a moment, nudging her shoulder gently. "It's more than your posse usually gives, so I appreciate it. You'd better mean it, though." You cock your head at her expectantly, a hint of warning in your tone.
"You have my word," she smiles, determined to make sure the opportunity you're giving her doesn't go to waste.
The Fallout
In the following weeks, she cut ties with more and more toxic people, causing a bit more drama to stir up, but she didn't care. You were by her side through all of it, as were your friends, and she saw what true community looks like. She had so many people at her beck and call back then, but none of them cared as much as your close knit group. They were in it because of her status, not because of her.
Walking her to class
Both of you sticking up for each other if people try to start stuff
Helping her correct her bad habits if she starts to get judgemental with someone or slips back into her old ways
Being patient with her
Her spoiling you randomly to show how thankful she is for you
"Miss L/N, we have a Candy Gram for you. Sent by Jennie Kim." A staff member says upon entering the classroom, walking the package over to you. You grin widely as you open the note attached to it.
"Come see me after class, Y/N/N. I have something for you."
You were excited for the rest of class
You rode your bike back to her dorm, parking it outside before knocking on the door.
"Hey, Jendeukie. What do you have for--"
You're abruptly cut off by her lips pressing against yours as her hands pull you in, turning you to mush. You sink into her arms and kiss back, reveling in the feeling of finally having this moment with her. You've been waiting for it ever since the party.
"I've wanted to do that for so long," she softly admits, resting her forehead against yours. "I hope I didn't overstep." You can hear the nervousness in her voice, and you smile at how cute she is.
"Quite the opposite, actually. Come here," you pull her in again, lifting her up into your arms as you walk into her dorm. She squeals at the sudden move, but the sound is quickly muffled as you lean in to kiss her again.
#kim jisoo#jisoo kim#jisoo#jisoo x reader#kim jisoo x reader#jennie kim#jennie#jennie x reader#blackpink#blackpink fanfic#blackpink imagines#blackpink oneshots#blackpink headcanons#park chaeyoung#rosé#lisa manoban#blackpink scenarios#kpop scenarios#kpop imagines#angst#fluff#college au#enemies to lovers#let-them-read-fics#kpop#blackpink x fem reader#jisoo turtle rabbit kim#jennie kim x reader
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a return to roots | 6
pairing: kita shinsuke x f!reader
summary: y/n is a rising star in the music industry, having almost everything you could have ever hoped for as a small-town country girl. now after releasing two triple platinum albums in consecutive years, you face the dreaded artist’s burnout… in order to recover, your manager suggests, you should return to your hometown in hyōgo for a long-deserved break.
genre: socmed/smau, slice of life
warnings/tags: timeskip!, mutual pining, slow burn? more like rekindling, slight canon divergence
masterpost
To say that your day wasn’t going as planned was an understatement. Although you’d known that you would have to see Kita that day, your mind had assured you that there were a couple hours until then. So to see him before that expected time…
You blinked, mouth opening and closing like the fish you’ve seen in koi ponds. “Oh. I didn’t expect you to be here…” You paused, and then pursed your lips definitively. If your mouth was shut then you couldn’t say anything else.
Kita gave you a lopsided smile. “I work here, remember?” His amber eyes twinkled as the sunlight caught them.
Your eyes trailed along the scene you’d been looking at previously. He didn’t just work here… he owned all of this. Stupid Kita, always selling himself short. Didn’t he know he was virtually perfect? Ah, right. You flushed, wondering if it was the embarrassment or the heat finally getting to you. Grabbing at anything to say, you blurted, “I was just admiring the view. Samu and I got here earlier than expected.” You wrung your hands nervously, then stopped. You didn’t want to seem nervous. “Um…” you said slowly, taking a step back, “it’s alright if you can’t accompany us right now. You’re probably busy.” You gnawed on your bottom lip. “Working the farm and stuff.”
“‘Us’?” Kita echoed, looking past you.
You chuckled nervously and scratched the back of your neck. It burnt with uneasiness, even more so when you remembered what you were wearing: an old oversized tshirt, shorts, and slides. You weren’t going to wear anything less comfortable on a road trip, you mind argued. “Yeah,” you mumbled, looking down, “Samu was with me but he got distracted. I was just looking around by myself.” After realizing that it could’ve sounded like you were trying to guilt trip Kita, you backtracked, waving your arms. “Not that that’s a bad thing!”
Your heart gave a gut-wrenching squeeze when he laughed softly at you. “It’s alright. If you’d like, I can show you around?”
You looked up from your hands, which had been busy wringing themselves into the hem of your shirt. “Ah! No,” you said quickly, “I’m totally fine on my own! I wouldn’t want to take you away from your work, either.”
You fiddled with a loose string on your t-shirt as Kita peered over at you, contemplative. “It’s ok,” he said after a pause, “I have time. And I want to make my way around anyways, so your timing couldn’t have been better.”
You stared at his back, speechless, as he began walking in the direction you’d been headed. Quickly, you picked your jaw up from the ground and clambered through the grass after Kita, who had slowed his pace so that you could catch up. Maybe if you hadn’t been so flustered you would’ve remembered that he had come from the direction you were now walking in.
If Osamu’s knowing stare when he’d eventually ran into you and Kita hadn’t been enough to make you internally crumple in on yourself, his suggestion for all of you to get dinner together was.
Not to say that his presence wasn’t welcome, though. When Kita hadn’t been speaking about something notable on the farm, it was silent for the most part, with you only dumbly repeating how nice it was. You hadn’t talked about anything more personal, like where you were in life now. It didn’t feel right just pretending nothing had happened; neither had starting off from where the two of you had left off. And it’s not like you could just say, “Hey, remember how a few years ago we almost dated but then didn’t which ended up kind of ruining our friendship? Let’s try to work through that now!” Kita was over it by now, unlike you, who’d just shoved everything into the back of your mind and hoped it wouldn’t ever be relevant again. This is what you get for neglecting it, you berated yourself, and yet when it came down to it, you weren’t sure whether it was the resigned silence between the two of you or the way that you felt the urge to act so impulsively— to hug him, kiss him, apologize to him— which was more frightening.
And that was how Osamu had found you, lost in your thoughts while walking with Kita and then somehow finding yourself sandwiched between the two in Kita’s pickup truck. I don’t have enough gas to drive us, Osamu had said while hiding a wicked grin, knowing damn well that you wouldn’t argue with him about it in front of Inarizaki’s former captain; that you wouldn’t beg Osamu to prevent you from getting into a car with Kita, not with him there to witness it.
You tried to avoid squirming in the middle seat of the front row, conscious of every minute brush against Kita’s sleeve or shoulder. Osamu snickered quietly, and you jerked your head to the side to glare at him heatedly. This is all your fault, your eyes seethed, or at least you hoped you could convey as much feeling into them as you wanted. You stiffened when Kita’s arm brushed against yours momentarily as he made a turn, and you lurched towards him. Osamu finally had the decency to help you out, grabbing your shoulder to prevent the collision.
You shot him another dirty glare and then stared out through the windshield just as you all pulled into the otherwise abandoned parking lot of the local bar. If you hadn’t come from Kita’s but instead your own childhood house, you would’ve walked like most other people did.
Immediately you dropped the gloomy atmosphere, eyes now shining. “Izumi and Kenji’s!” You hopped out of the truck from Osamu’s side and jumped up and down excitedly. “I haven’t been here in years!” you exclaimed, rushing forward. Your two companions trailed behind you, amused.
The bells on the door jingled as you opened it, at once having cold air rush at you. You sighed in contentment, the sweat on your brow already cooling off.
“Hello?” A matronly figure stepped out from behind the bar counter, a rag in hand. Just as her eyes landed on you, they brightened. “Y/N!” The woman tossed the rag onto a table and rushed over to greet you, holding your hands in her own excitedly. “When did you get back? How long have you been here? Are you staying at your parents’ house?”
You laughed and squeezed her hands before dropping them. “Hello, Izumi. I got back here a little bit ago and unpacked most of my stuff at the house. Any other questions?”
Izumi fired a barrage of inquiries while leading you to the bar counter, insisting that you sit on a stool. Osamu sat down beside you and Kita next to him. “—so glad you’re back. And Osamu, you too! You’ve gotten more handsome! I bet the girls and boys are flocking to you in Tokyo. How is the shop doing? And you too, Shin-chan! You don’t visit quite enough for someone that lives so close by!”
The three of you sat amiably and answered all of Izumi’s questions, small talk being made between you as she bustled in and out of the kitchen. “Yumie-chan told us you would be coming today, but we weren’t sure when! I think most people are going to be here, though, so just sit tight!” She brought out light beers and edamame to munch on in the mean time, and then a tray of salted nuts later.
Slowly, the eatery filled with more of the local residents of your hometown, all gathering around you. Izumi had insisted on moving your food and drinks to a long row of tables, which she had pushed together to make room for everyone. There had been a big influx of the field workers from earlier, who all greeted your group before settling down on the other end of the seating arrangement. More and more dishes were being put out, most of them now plates of food to share among the table. The mood was festive and there was never a quiet moment, always a conversation going on or some laughter. At one point even her husband Kenji had come out from the kitchen and managed a gruff ‘welcome’, garnering cheers from everyone. Your plate was never empty, aunties placing pieces of karaage, sides of spring cabbage, and more onto it. Your cheeks were tinted pink and your face glowed; you’d had a few beers, enough to make you feel all warm inside.
At last, after having eaten until you felt like your stomach was going to explode, Izumi brought out the final sides to accompany any of the remaining alcohol and then finally took a seat along with the women, who were asking questions about your new lifestyle.
“So why’d ya really come back?” One of the ladies asked curiously, the others leaning in forward to hear your response.
For a moment your grin faltered before you laughed again, taking a handful of salted nuts and then eating them one by one. “Oh, you know, just some burn out. I’ve been working nonstop the past two years. I thought I deserved a break.” You crunched down on some nuts, your jaw tense. The corners of your mouth felt tired from having to drag up all the time; the pleasant buzz from earlier was quickly dissipating the more they asked about this.
Another one of the women, an older one, said slyly, “Are you sure you didn’t return for any other reason?” Her eyes slid overtly towards where the men were sitting, near Kita. He had been nursing his drink, the same one he’d had all night. Kita had never been much of a drinker and he wasn’t going to drive while being drunk; he was too much of a stickler for the rules.
“I’m sure,” you said politely, gritting your teeth. You’d forgotten how nosy these old women could be. They all tittered to themselves, as if they knew something you didn’t, and then began talking of something else, leaving you to yourself. Your eyes caught Osamu’s, who raised his eyebrows questioningly before getting the message. He stretched his arms widely and then faked a yawn, not bothering to cover his mouth.
“Samu, you should head to bed, son,” Kenji said bluntly. “Yer tired.”
The twin nodded and looked to you and Kita. At that moment you didn’t have to fake a yawn, because you actually were exhausted. “We should go,” Kita agreed, “before I get too tired to drive us back.”
The three of you stood, causing a chorus of disappointed aws to ring out. “Ah,” you said, gripping the back of your chair to steady you. “I have something to say before I go.” Everyone at the giant table stared expectantly at you, and you remembered what it was like to have stage fright all over, as if you were just starting out again. Your throat tightened as you swallowed. “Um,” you said quietly, bowing formally and not making eye contact with a single person, “I would just like to thank all of you for taking such good care of my parents’ home. It’s because of you that I can move back in so easily. So thank you.”
After not hearing any sort of response, you peeked upwards. “Aw,” Izumi sniffled, wiping away a stray tear, “it’s because of you that we managed to stay open, ya know that, Y/N? You had no business giving us that much money for the restaurant, so it was the least we could do.” She jerked her head at everyone else. “And it’s not like we did it by ourselves; Kenji and I had help.” Izumi’s black eyes glittered. “Lots of help.”
You scuffed a foot, looking down again. Your cheeks and ears burned. But then you thought of the tatami mats at the house and the freshly dusted furniture, taken care of every week for years, and you shook your head. “Well, I didn’t need all that money.”
Osamu put a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Let’s go, Y/N,” he said quietly, and you nodded, following him and Kita out of the door as the others called out their goodbyes to you.
Everything that had happened that day hit you on the ride home, still sandwiched between the two men. At some point, tears had begun falling, with you trying miserably to cover them up. You weren’t sure if you were crying because you were disappointed by your reunion with Kita, or maybe if it was because tonight’s dinner had been one of the most fulfilling, the most happy you’d been in years. Your lips wobbled and you sniffled too this time, wiping at your nose with your arm. It had felt nice coming home to a table full of faces you recognized and the comfort of Izumi’s food, having people inquire about you solely because they cared.
“You could’ve given me some of that money too, y’know,” Osamu quipped, breaking the awkward silence. “And don’t wipe your snot with your bare arm, that’s disgusting. Health code violation.” Kita only chuckled as you elbowed the twin and argued with him, listening to the banter with a pensive look on his face.
a/n: hhHhH sorry this took longer, i had a really bad stomachache a few days ago which made me shit like 6 times in a day and then throw up 😩 and then after that i got addicted to genshin so
taglist (pm me to ask to be added): @papiibuprofen, @duhsies, @succulentmom, @kenmaslov3r, @introvertatitsfinest, @errorishere
some ~fun facts~
- kita WAS making his rounds on the farm, but was coming from the opposite side of you. meaning that after he ran into you, he retraced his path because he wanted to walk with you
- izumi is in her 60s. her specialty is cooking fried chicken (karaage) but she wants to learn how to pickle stuff
- kenji is izumi’s husband. he mostly works in the kitchen since he prefers to let his wife handle customers, even if 99% of them are locals
- izumi and kenji have been running their restaurant/bar since they were in their mid 20s 🥺 STOP THEYRE SO CUTE WHY AM I GETTING SO SENTIMENTAL OVER OCS
- y/n actually did give osamu money. so did atsumu. the two of them were actually the first investors for onigiri miya, right after the twins graduated high school, but osamu doesn’t know it because you had all of the legal stuff handled through a third party anonymously. you will ensure that osamu never finds out because he is prideful as heck lol
- y/n has some toxic traits (as do most people)
- there’s no love triangle with osamu or anything. strictly kita x reader 😤
#kita shinsuke#kita shinsuke x reader#kita shinsuke x you#kita x reader#miya atsumu#miya osamu#kenma kozume#kuroo tetsuro#suna rintaro#ojiro aran#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#farmer kita#inarizaki#haikyuu smau#smau#socmed
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i read your long pigeon poop post, and after some poking around online i saw that a loft in melbourne australia failed. do you have any idea why that is?
Oh... my fucking God. I am so furious.
Look at this thing!
$70,000 went into this monstrosity?
It looks like they converted a fucking water tower by punching holes in it and welding on entryways shaped like the stereotypical toddler’s first house drawing!
Who fucking researched this?!
Was it designed by a committee purely by aesthetic?!
Here is an article I found on it’s decomission and removal.
https://www.theage.com.au/national/victoria/melbourne-city-councils-70000-pigeon-loft-turned-into-scrap-metal-20160724-gqcmsc.html
According to the pigeon expert quoted in this article:
“Frank Hayes is the president of the Australian National Pigeon Association. While his group is mostly interested in show pigeons, a different breed to the city pests, he says it was fairly predictable the coop idea was never going to work.”
“ "The nature of the pigeon is that they find a home and they stick with it. So finding them somewhere else to go is a bit of a dream," said Mr Hayes.”
“ "Trying to shift them is one big headache. It's a worldwide problem and no one has ever figured out how to deal with it." ”
LOOK at this structure!!!
It’s made of fucking METAL!!!
In AUSTRAILIA!!!
In the fucking OPEN!!!!
From this charming article:
http://melbournedailyphotodaily.blogspot.com/2011/03/pigeon-loft-batman-park.html
“The loft is painted with light coloured corrosion resistant to reflect the heat and minimise internal over-heating. It houses two hundred nesting boxes for pigeon breeding. Eggs laid will be replaced with artificial eggs intended as a humane way to control and reduce pigeon numbers.”
That is a metal structure in the Melbourne sun...
No amount of Paint is gonna make that less an oven.
And I can’t imagine you can add anything to paint to make it corrosion resistant that isn’t noxious in a small space when the metal under it heats up.
“Bird feeding around the loft base is permitted to attract birds out of the CBD to this area. Bird feeding is not permitted in any other area around the CBD.”
But the city council is not actually providing the birds with good quality fed...
“... and no one has ever figured out how to deal with it."
No one, you ignorant twit?
NO ONE?!?!
Here is the site of a successful branch of the German Stadttauben Projekt, translated:
https://stadttauben-stuttgart.de/
“The Stuttgart pigeon project
Dear prospective customers,
nice that you found our homepage. We would like to introduce our project to you on the following pages:
The Stuttgart City Pigeon Project is an animal welfare-friendly concept for regulating and reducing city pigeons for the benefit of people and animals. We operate several supervised pigeon shots in the Stuttgart city area, in which the pigeons are cared for and their eggs are exchanged for dummies so that no offspring hatch. By the end of 2019, there had been well over 45,000 eggs. By feeding grain mixtures in our shots, the animals are no longer forced to look for food on the streets and squares in the area. They spend 80% of the day and the entire night in the dovecote. Ergo - your droppings also stay there and no longer land on roofs or balconies.
We were awarded the Baden-Württemberg State Animal Protection Award 2015 for our commitment .
The city pigeon is one of the most successful residents of the urban living space and today populates all major cities worldwide. It is the free-living descendant of the wild rock pigeons from the coastal and mountain areas in Africa and Eurasia. Long ago, the rock pigeons were domesticated by humans primarily for the purpose of meat production and thus also carried to our latitudes and cities. In modern times, the stock of the archetypal rock pigeon increasingly mixed with breeding, racing and sports pigeons that either escaped, were abandoned or, exhausted by exhausting competitive flights, ran aground in the cities. Today's city pigeons are the overgrown children and children's children of these rock, breeding and sports pigeons.
In cooperation with the state capital of Stuttgart, the Tierschutzverein Stuttgart und Umgebung eV launched the pigeon project in 2008. The cooperation was formed with the aim of bringing about a permanent and humane solution to the city pigeon problem.
The concept of the Federal Working Group for City Pigeons or the so-called * Augsburg Model * was helpful. It is based on scientific publications, practical experience and has already been successfully recommended by several federal states such as Hesse, North Rhine-Westphalia and Baden-Württemberg. Today it is implemented in more than 80 German cities and towns. For example, there are pigeon houses looked after in Aachen, Augsburg, Hamburg, Berlin, Frankfurt, Saarbrücken and Wuppertal.
We aim for a small, supervised and healthy pigeon population in Stuttgart. Then the image of the city pigeon may rise again. Because healthy animals, which have a permanent home and receive animal feed, do not bother anyone!”
https://stadttauben-stuttgart.de/?page=1,0,0,Chronik+%26+Fakten
“Care instead of fighting: our chronicle
2008:The first step was a dovecote at platform 1 in Stuttgart main station
2009:The second blow was made in the roof of the Leonhardskirche
2009:The third pigeon house was on the Mühlgrün parking garage in Bad-Cannstatt, which has since been demolished and replaced by the pigeon tower in the rope
2010:The fourth facility was the pigeon tower in the city garden on Max-Kade-Weg
2011:The fifth pigeon house stood on the roof of the town hall garage until February 2016. Reconstruction on the roof of the city comb in April 2016.
2011:The sixth dovecote was a second stroke on the roof of the Leonhardskirche (other roof side)
2013:The seventh dovecote was built in the roof of the Fairkauf building in Stuttgart-Feuerbach
2014:The eighth pigeon loft was built (as a replacement for the location at the main station) on a flat roof in the Kriegsbergstrasse
2016:Dovecote number 9 was inaugurated in July 2016 at the Marienplatz in Stuttgart in the roof structure of the imperial building
2017:
On Landhausstrasse in the east of Stuttgart, we were able to set up dovecote No. 10 in the attic of a residential building. It was opened in June 2017
2018:In summer, an indoor pigeon tower was opened at Seilerwasen in Bad Cannstatt as a replacement for the Mühlgrün pigeon house
2019In autumn a new pigeon facility was inaugurated at the station in Zuffenhausen and the first egg was laid in December.
In addition, a dovecote (trailer) on the grounds of the shelter Stuttgart and Nistwand for about 30 pigeons on the will of the ASPCA Stuttgart House Adam Müller-Guttenbrunn in Stuttgart Zuffenhausen care.
... more dovecotes are to follow!
Health hazard facts
A health hazard due to pigeons flying around, running and sitting can be largely excluded. New scientific studies have shown (again) that pathogens that may be contained in the pigeon droppings are usually bird-specific and are therefore not transmitted to humans. This was confirmed in 1995 by the Federal Ministry of Health.
The general classification of the pigeon as a pest was withdrawn by the Federal Institute for Consumer Health Protection back in 1989 on the basis of research results at the time and the opinion from 2001.
Feed facts about pigeons
Feeding pigeons in Stuttgart is prohibited on public land. Well-meaning pigeon friends increase the population density of the city pigeons by regular feeding in the same place, without offering the additionally attracted animals sleeping and nesting places where they are tolerated or the clutch can be exchanged. This creates people who work there or often live more pigeon hate and more pigeon misery.
Above all, too many food scraps are thrown away on the streets and squares of the city! This waste is mostly not compatible with pigeons. They lead to illnesses, shortages and thus, among other things, to the unsightly liquid starvation. Nevertheless, due to the scarcity of bird-friendly feed in cities, these human foods are usually the main basis for the feeding of city pigeons, but their organism is designed for pure hard grain feed. So this means sick pigeon populations that nonetheless reproduce disproportionately due to their (pet) genes raised by humans.
If you would like to help sustainably, please contact us. Only other supervised dovecotes in the city area (including food and egg exchange) start at the root of the "problem". We welcome any support!”
From their gallery:
Here is a loft.
Small, wooden, well insulated from heat and cold.
Those openings are not the nests. They are just doorways with a landing ledge designed around the comfort of pigeons, which are social birds.
Here is the inside.
Lots of comfortable nest boxes, perches in the back, food, water, comfortable socialization space...
Here is an entry into another loft currently in use.
Here is the inside.
Water and feed are provided by the care takers. You can see feed and drinking stations all over the floor.
And this is the inside of a huge new loft in Frankfurt.
These German Taubbenhauses are designed around meeting the birds’ needs for food, comfort, safety from the elements, and socialization with their flock mates.
None of these birds had to be coerced or forcibly relocated.
Because their needs were better met, they came on their own.
Look at the $70,000 Melbourne monstronsity again!
More specifically, look at the bridge behind it.
And tell me where you would rather me.
Compact metal tower designed exclusively around convenient human access, metal nest boxes, 0 landing platforms, no socialization space, no protection from the elements, still no choice but to forage for what ever garbage people toss you...
or the comfortably Cool space under a concrete bridge with a convenient water source.
Three guesses what’s more comfortable for the pigeons.
Now, would you rather live under a bridge with constant noise from traffic, open to predators,
or
A well insulated apartment building with comfortable suites, a spacious common area, and a nutritious free meal plan with clean water included by default.
"It's a worldwide problem and no one has ever figured out how to deal with it."
My ass, Mr. Hayes!
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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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the familiar scent of peppermint (theo nott x reader)
A/N: THIS IS A COLLAB WITH @fromashescomephoenixes GO CHECK HER OUT! SHES TOTALLY AWESOME!
“Morning, sister dearest.” Draco smiled at me as I sat next to him, my seat in the Great Hall vacant.
“I don’t want to hear it. Where’s Theo?” I paused. “And Blaise?” I held my breath for a long moment as Draco regarded me, and I held his gaze.
“They’ll be here shortly. Blaise had a wardrobe malfunction.” Draco said, his lips stretching into a small smile. I sniggered, and turned around when I felt a whack on my shoulder.
“That’s not a very nice greeting, is it now Blaise?” I mocked, and I smiled when I saw Theo standing behind him.
“Hey Y/n. Sleep well?” He asked as he slid into the seat across from me, and I almost melted into a puddle. I felt my brothers ever present gaze on me, and I nodded.
“Something like that. Got any plans for Christmas break?” I wondered, and he shrugged.
“Owls are coming.” Theo said, and I looked up to see the flock of owls swooping down.
“There’s Chewy and Joopie.” I saw myself and Draco’s owls before he did, and Chewy sat himself in front of me.
“Hey, pretty boy.” I cooed as I took the letter from his beak, and I offered him a blueberry as a reward. He stared at me, and I reluctantly offered two that he snatched up.
“What’s yours say?” Draco was already trying to peer at my letter before opening his, and I rolled my eyes.
“Let me read it myself, will ya?” I sighed loudly as I undid the seal, and I began reading.
To Y/n Malfoy,
Morning darling! Last week we found out that Milly Bulstrode got engaged, do you remember that? You used to play with her when you were in diapers! Well, it has set your father off. Most people are already betrothed by the time their your age, and with a war coming your father has decided it’s time to find suitors for yourself and your brother. Yours will be a Christmas wedding, I’ve already started planning it. If you have any preferences for men and for the wedding, do let me know so I can discuss it with your father.
Sincerely,
Narcissa Malfoy, neé Black.
I froze, and I felt Draco freeze beside me as we read the letter at the exact same time.
“We’re fucked.” I said, and I hated how wobbly my voice sounded. I was a Malfoy, and it wasn’t appropriate in the slightest.
“What?” Blaise asked, but I saw Theo nudge him. I risked a glance at Draco, and we were deers in a headlight.
“Father’s begun meeting suitors for Y/n, she’s to be married on Christmas Day. My wedding will be sometime after that.” Draco muttered, and I stared helplessly at my plate.
“What can we do?” Theo asked, and my heart ached even more than it ordinarily did.
“Unless one of you want to marry her, nothing.”
Blaise choked on his coffee and began to laugh. I glared at him while mentally searching for a suitable response. Unfortunately I was distracted by the adorable blush that had settled on Theo’s face. He rubbed the back of his neck shyly and laughed slightly- to me it sounded forced but I’m sure it was simply my imagination running wild again.
—
Luckily I had a free period after breakfast, which I spent in my room crafting a response to my mother dearest. It was turning into a harder task than I anticipated to say the least.
Dearest Mother.
I do in fact remember dear Milly! She was the brat that stole my—
No, too bitter. I sighed. How could I pretend to like her when all I had were unpleasant memories of us as five year olds? I began again, focusing on another point of my mother’s letter.
Hello mother,
I certainly was pleased to here from you! About the wedding: could we have Santa Claus there?
This wouldn’t do at all. I knew it was no use to argue, especially since it was only a little over two weeks before the dreaded day. Perhaps if I phrased it correctly I could by myself a little more choice in the matter. I began a fresh piece of parchment and crafted a final letter.
Dearest Mother,
I must say I was surprised by this unexpected announcement! In fact it is shocking that nothing has been arranged previously... A Christmas wedding will be lovely, especially if we can use lots of Slytherin green in the decor. In the theme of Christmas, I had an idea: what if I had twelve days (starting tomorrow) to find a fiancé? Otherwise, of course, the choice will be left to you and father. Please do let me know!
Love,
Y/n
I rewrote the letter twice to ensure it used an acceptable amount of prim phrasing in order to please her. Unfortunately, I was so wrapped up in my work that I didn’t even hear my brother invite himself into my dorm.
“Always the perfect daughter, aren’t we?” He teased with a hint of bitterness in his tone.
“Please. As if you wouldn’t say anything to gain even the smallest amount of control over this.”
“Oh believe me, I have,” Draco grinned before leaving. I rolled my eyes. Of course he would have an easier time with his dashing good looks and many love interests.
——
I counted through the list again. I had managed to find four suitable suitors that might be bearable for both me and my family. Unfortunately only one of those truly stood out.
Theodore Nott.
——
Lunch was quiet that day. Mother had given me the go-ahead, but no doubt she was already cooking up suitors. Draco and I were obviously a bit quiet, which left a lot of conversation space for Blaise to fill without much help from Theo. I eventually huffed so much Blaise was forced to stop mid-conversation about his mothers eighth husband. Something like that.
“What do you want, baby Malfoy?” He laughed at the face I made, and I shook my head.
“You’re going to have to marry me, Blaise. Mother has given me twelve days to find a husband, and you’ll do.” I said, and Blaise spat his mouthful of pumpkin juice all over me.
“You little bitch!” I cried as I stood up in shock, and Blaise, for his part, seemed shocked.
“I’ll do? I’ll have you know that I intend on being the best husband ever to exist, you maniac. Besides, I’ve been betrothed to Alexandra Abbott since before I was born, thanks to my ever-present father.” I winced. I hadn’t known that, and neither had Theo by the look on his face.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, and Blaise shook his head.
“I already know that Mum will kill her after the wedding, let’s not beat around the bush. Did you want to meet that same fate?” He fired back, and I shook my head.
“Death seems sort of appetising right about now, but I’ve got to go interrogate my other options.” I explained, and Blaise followed Theo in squinting at me.
“When you planning on interviewing me?” Theo asked quietly, looking at me the way he does. He was so pretty it hurt.
“Best til last, darling. Best til last.” I replied, my heart fucking hammering in my chest. I wanted to curl into a ball and cry, but no one could see me like that aside my brother. Draco stood up suddenly.
“We have a free period. Anyone joining me in the library?” He asked, and we all stood up.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Blaise said, and off we went.
—
“Give me that, you tosser!” I watched as Blaise snatched his potions essay back from Draco, and I rolled my eyes. Blaise knew even less about potions than I did, and that was saying something.
“Need help?” Theo murmured from beside me, and I turned to smile at him.
“Thank you, Theo, but-“ He waved his hand in my face, and settled his finger on my lips, silencing me. Now that they were right in front of me, I noticed the rings he adorned on his fingers. I recognised two of the four as being Nott family heirlooms, but that was about it.
“Malfoy’s don’t need help,” Theo mimicked something I had definitely said in the past, and I laughed.
“You’re annoying. Cute, but annoying.” I picked up my quill quickly, fucking terrified as to why I just said that.
There was a long pause.
“I’ll have you know I’m not annoying at all, just cool.” He said, and I grinned back at him.
“Why have you started writing about asphodel roots? We’re doing pearl dust this week, and following up with amortentia next week.” Theo explained, and I frowned. Potions sucked.
“When did we asphodel roots?” I asked warily, and Theo bit his lip. His pink, soft looking lips.
“First year?” I stared at him blankly.
“Come on, let’s sort out this essay.” He said kindly, and he pulled my chair closer to him. I hid my blushing cheeks behind my hair, and nodded.
“So... Pearl dust-“ I begin, but trail off. I’ve realised I know absolutely nothing on the topic. “Is used in Amortentia,” Theo nodded, amused at how I was struggling.
“Hey! You said you’d help! Stop laughing,”
I faked a pout and turned away from him. Thank Salazar I did because he gently brushed my arm and turned me back around.
“Alright! Alright,” He threw his hands up before pulling his chair even closer to mine. I decided to glare at my parchment rather than acknowledge his strong gaze on the gradually redder side of my face. I bit back a smile, and thankfully he broke the silence.
“Well, for starters,” He briefly touched my hand. Was that on purpose? Quick, focus. “They symbolise loyalty,” He explained. “Therefore they play a strong role in creating the obsession part of the potion,” he continued. I frowned though, as it didn’t quite make sense.
“But people in real love are loyal,” I looked up at him, but he seemed to be staring into space.
“They should be,” he replied darkly. He brushed my hand one last time before rapidly exiting the library. I was torn whether I should follow or leave him be. He always had been a bit more of a loner. But then again, most slytherins are...
I walked back to the dungeons on my own. Since Theo ran off, I had to piece together the two facts I knew into about seven inches of parchment. Thank Salazar that I had big handwriting, although I’m sure the teachers wouldn’t see that as a positive.
“Y/n!” I heard footsteps chasing after me. Then a tall shadow.
“Theo,” I greeted him with a nod. I kept walking, as I knew I would soon fall behind his quick strides.
“Sorry I ran off,” He whispered a bit. I noticed he was rubbing the back of his neck again.
“It’s okay,” I nodded, deciding not to push the topic right now. We walked in silence a little farther until I tried to start a new conversation.
“So, what does your amortentia smell like?” I asked brightly. I knew I’d have to invent something if he asked me, but my curiosity got the better of me.
“Oh, er-“ he mumbled about squid for a moment before quickly excusing himself to go to the great hall. So, I continued towards the common room myself.
“Dearest Sister!” Draco cried dramatically from his favorite green armchair. He always sat there, and most of the first years knew better by now than to test that fact.
“Yes?” I groaned, not feeling up to being nice today.
“Yikes who stepped on your snake tail?” He asked in a cold but slightly teasing tone.
“Sorry Draco, I’ve had a long day.” I sighed.
“Yeah a long day flirting with one of my best mates!”
“One of your best mates? I’ll have you know that Mother introduced me to Theo first!” I retorted, and slowly froze as I met Draco’s smirk.
“So I’m right, then? You fancy the pants off of him!” Draco was always quick to draw conclusions, I’ll give him that.
“It doesn’t matter, anyway, considering I’m marrying the man of mother’s choice.” I said glumly, and Draco waved his hand.
“She gave you like a week and a half did she not?” He asked, and I nodded.
“So? I-I’m not like you, Draco. I don’t have people falling at my feet, and I know I’m going to have to marry whoever she chooses.” I hadn’t admitted my embarrassing insecurities to my brother yet, and I was met with silence.
“Literally shut up. Do you remember in third year when you started getting those letters? The ones that talked about how pretty you are, and the boys that all wanted to ask you out?” I did remember, and I remembered the embarrassment of when they stopped, proving it was all a joke.
“I tracked down every single one of those boys, and I made sure they knew they didn’t deserve you. Don’t fucking doubt who you are or your worth.” He stood up aruptedly, and walked right out of the common room.
I sat in the common room for a long time, the Black Lake’s creatures my only company. It wasn’t until I heard one of my favourite drawls talking to the Bloody Baron.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Blaise asked as he stared at me, and I stared back.
“What?” Blaise scoffed.
“You need to fucking talk to your mother, or at least someone you can marry. We have ten days left of school, and you’re wasting them all moping about.”
“I am not!” I cried. “I have a list,” The second I said that I regretted it. Blaise shook his head.
“A list?” He rubbed his eyebrow for a moment, as if he was the expert of instantly finding a suitor that was also acceptable to your parents. I allowed the silence to stretch out while he took a seat sprawling gracefully upon the green velvet couch.
“Well,” He began impatiently, “let’s see it then!” I blushed, especially since it was so small. I held a silent debate over whether I really wanted Blaise to see it or not. He made the choice for me by summoning it from my dorm.
“Oh Merlin,” I slumped further into my cushy armchair.
“Graham Montague?” Blaise knitted his eyebrows together. “He’s already betrothed,”
“So are you,” I sighed. Blaise laughed a cold laugh.
“Sorry darling,” He threw a wink my way.
“Wow, my mother really was late to the party huh?” I joined in with my own dry laugh for a moment.
“You would go mad if you married Crabbe or Goyle,” He shook his head.
“Didn’t even write them down,”
“That leaves Miles Bletchley or Theo,”
“So do you think I should pick a target out of those two?” Blaise nodded as I said this. Of course I should. And of course it should be Theo. If I had retained my right to pick my own fiancé in my own time it probably would have been him anyway.
“It should be Theo,” I admitted.
“Merlin, It only took an arranged marriage to get you to say that.” Blaise smirked at me.
“What do you mean?!”
“Anyways, you have ten days to get him to agree to marry you.”
“So?”
“So what?”
“So what’s the plan?” Honestly Blaise couldn’t really expect me to know how to charm Theo after the various train wrecks of today...
——
The piles of papers around were parchments I never thought I would have read anytime soon. Instead of trying to revive my potions grade I was attempting to decide what kind of bouquet I would like for my wedding.
“I think the roses suit you.” Pansy said, and I stared at her.
“Everything suits me.” Pansy snorted, and I glared.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night. Anyway, roses also suit Theo, so you don’t have to stress about the bouquet anymore. Cissy said she can arrange to have green flowers, since the theme is going to be white and Slytherin green. Salazar, I wish I were getting married!” Pansy sighed quite dramatically in my opinion, and flopped onto her bed.
“It might not be to Theo, stop getting my hopes up.” I said glumly, and Pansy sighed again.
“Go talk to him, I’m sick of you complaining.” As if to prove a point, she then turned and faced the opposite way. I stood up, rolling my eyes at her back.
“Whatever.” I huffed as I walked out, and I scoffed when I saw the finger Pansy had blindly shoved in my direction.
As I walked down to the common room, I saw a familiar mop of brown curls and couldn’t stop myself from smiling. Theodore Nott really was something.
“Hey.” I slid onto the love seat beside him, and he looked up from the book he was reading.
“Y/n. How are you? Potions treating you better?” The smirk on his face made my failing potions grade absolutely worth it.
“Something like that. Have you decided on your Christmas plans yet?” I asked, and Theo shrugged.
“Attend your wedding, I assume.” I swallowed. Six days left until my timer was up and Mother had free reign.
“We should just ditch it.” I suggested, and he laughed.
“Not much of a wedding without you, is it?” He had a point, but I wasn’t in the mood for it.
“If you had to get married right now who would you choose?” I asked, and Theo stared at me.
“I don’t know. Probably Draco, I heard his hair is insured for millions.” I snorted at the unexpected joke, and Theo grinned at me.
“Almost a billion, I’ll have you know.” I added, and Theo nodded.
“I can tell. Anyway, why do you ask? Are you getting married to a girl?” I was happy to see Theo wasn’t being a dick, and he was just curious.
“No, I’m just wondering who’d you pick. Pansy, right?” I knew damn well Theo didn’t like Pansy, but I enjoyed stirring the pot a little too much.
“Shut up, Y/n. You’ll make me sick right here! Honestly, I would probably just run away and return when I feel I’m ready.”
“You’re a wise guy, Theo.” I said, and when I saw his dimples I almost collapsed on the couch.
—
The weekend had proved to be a waste of time, and I had hardly talked to Theo, too busy drowning in school assignments while trying to plan my wedding. It was a double potions on Monday, and I fucking hated potions.
“What are we learning today?” I whispered to Pansy as I slid into my seat beside her.
“Amortentia.” She replied, and I nodded. That explained why the smell of Theo’s peppermint shampoo drenched the place.
“Ms. Y/l/n,” Snape addressed me. “Would you care to explain how you managed to fail our previous essay so dismally,” I mentally facepalmed before attempting to respond.
“I- I’m sorry professor,” According to Snape’s face this was not a suitable response. I tried again: “I’ve been a bit preoccupied this week,”
“And what might have been distracting you enough that you earned a dreadful? Mind you, it was only a few marks off a troll,” His words would have stung less of they weren’t spoken in such a cold, slow voice.
I decided to mumble a jumbled response, given Snape wasn’t the most sympathetic listener.
“Very well,” Snape nodded slightly. “In hopes that your grade will improve, you best sit with Theo and have him help you,” I felt like jumping up and down, and throwing up in the exact same moment. Slowly, I moved over to Theo’s desk while trying to review the conversation starters I had come up with.
Really, I shouldn’t be worrying because I’ve known him my whole life basically. But this was different. I wanted to fucking marry him, not play a game of cards!
“Sorry,” I grimaced while sliding onto the bench.
“Don’t be,” Theo smiled gently. Holy shit, this love potion wouldn’t make me feel any different to how I already felt about him. “Unless you’re apologising for avoiding me all weekend,” He said seriously.
“Well I am sorry about that,” I bit my lip self consciously. He nodded as he spooned out a few teaspoons of pearl dust into the swirly potion.
“I really didn’t mean to, I’ve just been in a different world this week.” He nodded more understandingly this time, as he meticulously chopped the mint leaves we needed to add next.
“Ms. Y/l/n, are you helping or talking?” Snape stormed past our table, looking surly.
“Helping, professor!” Theo assured him.
“Do you smell anything yet?” He inquired. We both shook our heads.
“Could be because Y/n put so much perfume on this morning,” Theo teased me. I couldn’t smell it myself, but maybe I was just becoming desensitised to it.
“Please, you’re cologne and shampoo are practically a cloud around you!” I elbowed him. He simply smirked at me. Snape was looking as amused as I’ve ever seen him.
“You’ve both earned an outstanding,” He snarled before fluttering away.
“But sir!” Theo called after him. “We turned in it on time!” I giggled at his joke, even though I guessed it would prompt one of the few times Snape took points away from his own house. Thankfully, I was wrong. Our potion must have looked better than it smelled I suppose.
——
“You have to ask him!” Pansy elbowed me. It was the next morning, and last night I had totally failed at seducing Theo.
“What do I fucking say?” I whispered angrily. “Hey you’re cute and I like you. Wanna get married in five days?”
We slid into our usual seats in the great hall, and lucky for me Theo was already there.
“What’s up?” He asked smiling at me.
“Not much,” I murmured as I stuffed my face with a piece of pizza. “What class have you got next?”
“Free period, you?” I could have leapt for joy, this would be a perfect chance to spend more time with him.
“Same! Maybe we could study together?” I suggested.
“Oh very romantic,” Pansy muttered under her breath. Luckily, Theo seemed not to hear.
“Of course.” He smiled. “You might need some more help with the next potions essay!” He smirked.
“Clearly Snape made that arrangement for your benefit,” I pushed him gently. Theo blushed slightly and turned serious.
“I wanted to apologise, you didn’t have to wash your perfume off. I was only teasing about it being to strong,” He rubbed the back of his neck.
“Thanks, but don’t worry. I didn’t even put it on today.” I responded, forgetting the whole ‘amortentia smells like what you love you’
Everyone was staring at us. Fuck.
“Shall we go study?” Theo asked, taking my hand and pulling me up from the bench. We were both graciously ignoring the fact our amortentia smells like each other.
“On second thought, maybe we could do something else? I’m just so tired of school, I could really use a break.” Theo stared at me before his face spread into a grin.
“I’ve got just the place.”
—
“Do you come here often?” I asked. We were sat at some point in the Forbidden Forest, and the first five minutes we were here I was practically shitted myself, all too aware of the creatures that resided here.
“Yeah, I’d say so. It’s just so peaceful.” Theo smiled wistfully at the trees, and he was absolutely right. It was silent aside occasional squeaks and squawks, and for the first time in the past week and a half I finally felt calm.
We sat in silence for a long time, and eventually I became too scared to break it. I stole a look at the boy beside me, and I saw Theo had closed his eyes at some point. Free to stare at him without repercussions, I finally got the chance to truly admire him. His curly dark hair made his skin look paler, the olive tones appearing washed out. His eyelashes were long and I was silently jealous of them, considering mine were about as long as my fingernails. When he opened his eyes he smiled.
“Hey.” His voice sounded hoarse, and as time became irrelevant I wondered how long we had been here for.
“Hi.” I said, and I felt so incredibly shy, the way he was looking at me made me want to shrink.
“You look pretty.” He sat up from the rock, and I turned away.
“How long have we been here?” I asked, and he shrugged.
“Long enough to be late to potions.” I sat up quickly and threw myself off of the rock, as though I could apparate into the dungeons.
“Don’t worry, we’ll say we had to do Hagrid a favour or something.” Theo laughed, and we set onwards towards the castle.
“Do you ever think about what life will be like after Hogwarts?” I asked, and Theo didn’t meet my gaze.
“I don’t know. Sometimes I do, I guess. It’s hard to though, because life will be changed so drastically after the war, especially if You-Know-Who wins.” Theo said, and I nodded.
“I know.” Nothing more could be said, and when we walked into potions, the familiar scent of peppermint was overwhelming.
“L/n, Nott. Since you arrived late you’ll be telling the class what you smell in the Amortentia,” Snape ordered, and Theo shared a grimace with me. “L/n, you first.”
“Okay,” I walked up to the front and ignored the stares of my classmates. “I smell peppermint mostly, but there’s also hints of roses mixed with sugar.” I stepped back from the potion, almost hitting my head on a low hanging ingredients shelf.
“Nott.” Theo looked at me nervously, and I tried to smile reassuringly, but I had no clue.
“There’s this perfume, but I’ve no clue what the scent is. I can smell vanilla and cinnamon as well.” He stepped back, and it wasn’t until Pansy elbowed me in the side did I realise what exactly those scents were.
“Professor Snape!” I stood up. Merlin this was taking some guts. “Theo and I left our cauldrons in the common room, we should go get them now,” I grabbed Theo’s hand and we raced towards the door.
“Ms, L/n!” I heard low shouts behind me. “10 points from Slytherin!” The rest of the words were drowned out by cheers of various Gryffindors.
——
Theo and I collapsed in laughter back inside the common room. We sat opposite each other in our favourite green armchairs.
“So why did we really need to leave?” Theo asked. For a moment I thought he was serious, and hadn’t realised what the scent of his amortentia actually was. Then I saw the soft twinkle in his hazel eyes.
“Oh, you know...” I trailed off and big my lip. I decided this would be best to say as fast as possible.
“Wesmelledeachotherinrheamortentiaandivebeeninlovewithyousincethridyearwillyoumarryme?” A small smile began to grow upon Theo’s soft lips.
“Sorry, what was that?” He asked. I wasn’t sure if he truly didn’t understand, or if he was enjoying hearing my thundering heart beat. I took a deep breath. I wanted this to be right.
“Hang on,” I suggested. “We need to go back to the forbidden forest.” I may as well make sure this is as good as it can be...
——
We’re back in the forbidden forest. Theo is still smirking slightly, while also looking slightly confused.
“Now,” I began, wringing my hands back and forth. “Theo I’ve known you since we were babies. I’ve got to say, when we were in diapers I never imagined this happening. But I’ve dreamed of it for a while now. I know this a completely rushed and insane situation, but sometimes that’s what you need to realise... Theo, I really like you, and I can’t imagine marrying anyone other than my best friend. Will you marry me this Christmas?” Theo was grinning like an idiot at me. And he was taking tantalisingly small steps towards me.
“Yes,” He whispered while taking my face in his hands, and gently angling it to fit our lips perfectly together.
Time stopped, and the two days before our wedding seemed like forever. I was here, kissing Theo. My fiancé.
——
Christmas Eve was a quiet affair. It was spent with my family and the Nott’s in Malfoy manor.
Mother was ecstatic about my choice. Apparently that’s who she had been planning on already, but Theo had told me his mom was bent on him marrying for love.
We had a large dinner and completed the final tasks before the big day. Before I knew it, morning was here!
My mother helped me get into my a line style wedding dress. The train stretched fifteen feet behind me, and I loved this one because it had an empire waistline. Our the manor’s greenhouse was the location of our wedding. And despite the strange circumstances, it was everything I’d ever dreamed. There was an aisle between the rows of chairs, with a green runner down the centre for me to walk on.
“You look lovely, darling.” Father patted my shoulder, and I beamed at him. His words of approval were all I ever wanted to hear.
“Are you ready?” He asked, and I nodded. Pansy and Daphne had already walked down with Blaise and Draco, and there was only one thing left to do.
“I love you, dad.” He stared at me for a second, and I began to second-guess myself. I hadn’t called him dad since I was in diapers.
“I love you too, Y/n.” Dad whispered softly, and I squeezed his hand tightly.
“Let’s do this.”
—
The ceremony flew by, as per pureblood customs, and before I knew it I was sat beside Theo, binding ourselves to the marriage certificate.
“You’re a dork.” I laughed in delight as I saw Theo carve a dick onto the table, and he grinned back.
“Shut up. I’m your dork, and you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.” He said, and I narrowed my eyes.
“Don’t be so sure about that. I might get some hints from Yemaya, Blaise’s mother.” He poked me in the side as he stuck in his tongue out, and I leaned on his shoulder, completely in bliss.
Theo really was the best.
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touch your heart [senju tobirama/you] - chapter 8
Summary: Hashirama might go down as the worst matchmaker in history, but he thinks he might be on to something. Tobirama sees through his brother's schemes and is determined not to fall for it. Or fall for you.
Word Count: about 3k
AO3 LINK TO TOUCH YOUR HEART
AOR SERIES LINK TO ‘TIL DEATH DO US PART
[<<<CHAPTER ONE] [CHAPTER TWO] [CHAPTER THREE] [CHAPTER FOUR] [CHAPTER FIVE] [CHAPTER SIX] [CHAPTER SEVEN]
It is raining blood.
Someone is groaning faintly towards your left, but after waiting it out, they eventually stopped making any sounds.
Your hand comes up to your face to wipe the blood off of your eyes, but you still see red. Your clothes and your uncovered skin are doused in blood, and they trickle down slowly to the ground, mixing with the others' spilled ones.
Blood that you spilled yourself.
Darkness swallows you, and a strained laugh escapes your lips.
What is the point of all of this? Even killing so many bad people does not negate the evil of this world. No matter how you justify it, you still have the sword that ended lives.
Human ones.
Even if they did not deserve to live, who are you to decide that? If anyone can just kill, who decides what is right and wrong?
Tears spill out of your eyes and it clears your vision.
Your hand moves to take your wakizashi. You can end it all today. Easily.
The blood rain stops.
A hand comes into your view, palm opened and extended towards you. Your hand pauses at the hilt of your blade.
"I am Uchiha Madara," the owner of the hand says. "I've been sent to kill you, but I have a feeling that we are more alike than you'd think."
Your head rises, and you look to the face that might have just stopped you from dying.
His dark, spiky long hair surrounds him like a halo. His red eyes stare into you, touching your soul, and your hand falls away from your blade.
"Take it and live," Madara says. "And if not, I will grant you your mercy here and now."
Your hand slowly comes up, and you gingerly place your hand into his. Madara squeezes it and he pulls you up to stand.
"How will I live?" You whisper. At least death grants reprieve. Now, there is only uncertainty.
Madara takes his other hand and raises your chin towards him.
"Atone." Madara's voice reverberates in the bloody forest. "And start anew. There is a village where you can do that. I can take you, if you'd like."
You watch Madara’s eyes become black. Like the clearest night sky, adorned by a new moon.
In that moment, you are able to get a taste of this so-called peace for the first time. It tastes of clean water from a cold spring. It feels like freedom and salvation, like the chains bounding you to your past are broken down.
You step towards Madara and you look him straight into his eyes. The man narrows his gaze, sizing you up. Finally, his gaze softens. He must have found something worth salvaging.
Your eyes swim again, and as your tears flow down again, Madara moves his hand from your chin to wipe them away.
"Thank you," you tell him, your voice quiet and reverent.
"Let’s go home," Madara beckons, like a shepherd to his flock of sheep. Comforting and gentle.
And you follow him.
//
Hashirama makes you stay in their house for the rest of the week, and while you really do not want to keep imposing on the Senju household, you aren’t going to lie to yourself. This is the most peaceful you’ve been in a while now. You also do not have to worry about your next meal, or whether your water is going to stop flowing. It did not even matter that Tobirama is giving you these dark looks of his, you are used to them and you do not think much of it–to you, this is like his default expression.
Tobirama does not ease up on his staring, you feel his eyes even through the walls.
You are still unsure of what to think of him. One moment, he is cold as ice, the next, he helps you out in the most subtle ways, like making sure your room isn’t too hot or too cold, or that everything you will need to work on the curriculum is near you. You try to notice these things, but they go over your head before you can even say thank you.
You can see his effort trying to be nice, but even though you are enjoying your stay a lot, it makes you want to run. Sometimes people who are too kind are not kind for the right reasons. They always have a price to ask or intentions to harm you.
You remind yourself that even if Tobirama is a blunt asshole, he has never given you a reason to fear him. You already know he’s a rough man, but he is way better than the people you have met in the past. He is smart and he has a vision for the future, and every day, he proves that he has pure intentions to serve his brother, the village and its people. One ought to have a big heart to lay down for something bigger than you and not ask for anything back.
So you give him a chance.
Despite what you’ve seen and experienced, you dare yourself to show him a little more.
It is like jumping into the unknown, head first into a pit, knowing there is nothing to catch you.
//
“What is this?” You ask Tobirama, staring up at a very tall tree.
“You are going to climb it,” Tobirama says and he looks up as well. “It’s the same as crossing the river, but this time, you are going up and against gravity.”
You put your hand forward to touch the bark.
“And when you get to the top, let’s have that overdue race,” Tobirama hands you a kunai.
You give him a sideways glance. “How is that fair?”
“Giving up so soon?” Tobirama smirks.
“Please. You wish,” you taunt. “I’ll fight dirty if I have to.”
Tobirama nods, and his face visibly softens with pride. “That’s so much like you, then.”
You whip your head to him in awe and he shrugs.
“You have not been acting like yourself,” Tobirama reasons. “You’re always moping around, like a snot-nosed little kid. It’s ugly.”
You roll your eyes. “What about you? Always staring at me to make my head explode, like a bastard.”
Tobirama presses his mouth into a tight line, but a corner of his lip lifts. “Lucky for you, you’re too bullheaded to take any damage.”
You open your mouth to retort back, but a laugh escapes your lips. You had no idea how much you’ve missed your banter with Tobirama until he started brooding around you a few days ago. No moment has ever been dull with him. Each second you are near him, there are always new sights to take in and explore. Tobirama’s eyes widen in surprise and his mouth parts slightly at the sound, and the two of you share a look.
There is understanding between the two of you, and you dare each other to look away first.
Neither of you budge.
A breeze passes through, shaking the trees above your heads. A few dried leaves fall and they sway along the wind, following the way it swings until they fall to the forest floor with a silent crunch. Somewhere, a bird flaps its wings and sends out a melodious chirp that echoes through the giant trunks of the forest. Soft sunlight peeks through the small spaces of the boughs of the trees, and the light hits Tobirama’s eyes just right, and you can see his white lashes flutter and the lighter specks of his red eyes, the ring of muscles surrounding his pupil iridescent with pink, white and red.
You are rendered speechless.
Another soft breeze comes by to ruffle his hair, and strands of yours whip back.
You peek up at him shyly, unable to look away.
You see Tobirama’s arm come forward, and the next thing you know, his hand is nearing your face, and your heart thuds so loudly in your ears that you hear ringing. Every muscle in your body screams to run, but your feet are planted into the ground, as if the tree in front of you caged your ankles with its roots.
Then the moment is over as Tobirama plucks a leaf from your hair.
“Any questions?” Tobirama says in a hushed tone, as if he will disturb the sleeping creatures in the forest.
“No,” you almost stammer, but at the last second, you get ahold of yourself.
Tobirama’s eyes pore over your forehead, and then your eyes. He stares a little longer, and when you catch him looking, he nods and he walks away from you.
You try your best not to call him back and ask him what he just did.
Nothing is making sense anymore.
//
Tobirama is not normally someone who dreads many things, but right now, he finds that he is dreading the due date of the curriculum. He knows that so many eyes are going to be watching the Academy’s growth and its new step forward to raising good shinobi, including the other hidden villages, and for once, that is not at the forefront of his mind and it is irking him.
He is thinking about you and how much effect you have on him. He thinks about you all the time and it drives him up the wall. You are always egging him on and forcing him to feel new things, and when you show that you genuinely care, Tobirama is not sure how to handle that. You are something else, and words are not enough to describe you.
No words are enough, and yet, when he looks at you, when he hears your voice, when he senses your presence and catches your scent, a hundred words run through his mind and it is fighting to burst through his lips. Mostly they are insults, but still. The best part is that you do not take those seriously and you are quick to respond.
Most of all, he is also thinking about the role you will be playing in the Academy. It will be a huge public event, and through his many talks with his brother, it is looking like other hidden villages are reaching out to Konoha because they also want the same thing for their shinobi.
It makes his head hurt, and he knows there are more pressing matters to attend to than just this stupid ache in his chest.
It is ridiculous.
He is a hypocrite.
However, he is not Senju Tobirama for nothing. He has been in war for a long time. He knows how to prioritize and push down his boiling emotions. He is the most logical man around here, and his brain is what is needed. His mind has never failed him.
Never. Not once.
He does not want to fail you either, but it looks like he will have to.
It pains him to even think about the disappointment and hurt that your face will display, and it is because he will be the one to put it there.
He still believes that he is still doing the right thing.
He rubs his temples with his thumb and fingers, chiding himself. This will pass, just like the seasons. This is just a mere infatuation. A curious attraction to the unknown. He is a human being after all, these are things his body reacts to and are just out of his control. The sooner he accepts that, the easier this will get.
It will pass, and it will all be over soon.
//
You are halfway up the tree, when you are free-falling and hurtling towards the ground with a sickening speed that makes your mind numb and your stomach fly out of your body. You squeeze your eyes shut to accept your fate, you have had worse injuries before. You can probably manage. Broken bones heal.
You refuse to let out a shriek, but before you crack open your head on the forest floor, you crash into a hard board with arms that envelopes you and catches you. Suddenly, you are dropped into the ground unceremoniously and you yelp ungracefully, muttering a string of curses.
You glare at the person who caught you, but when you find Tobirama’s face, your eyes widen.
You are a second too late, but you have to keep up appearances.
“Ow! What the hell?!” You cry out dramatically, clutching your head. You shrink away from him, exaggerating your pain. “That fucking hurt, you snowman-borne oaf!”
Tobirama’s face twitches, but he settles for an eye roll. “Really?”
You peer up at him, and you grin. “Do you feel bad yet?”
Tobirama scoffs. “Do you feel shame yet?”
“You know me,” you smirk, and you catch his thighs to help yourself up.
“Stop that!” Tobirama hisses. He grabs your arms instead and pries you off of him.
“Calm down, I knew you weren’t going to offer your hand to help me up like a gentleman,” you brush the dirt from your clothes.
Tobirama stares at you, incredulous. “Well, I wasn’t going to hold hands with a stranger.”
You fake your hurt and put a hand on your chest. “Tobirama, I am no stranger! We’re friends, remember?”
Tobirama’s expression withers. “That’s a little much. I thought we decided on co-workers.”
“Partners!”
“Hell no.”
You pout and Tobirama smirks.
“A running start towards the tree will help you,” Tobirama suggests, studying the trunk of the tall tree you were just climbing. “Impressive, given that this is a day’s work of progress.”
Caught off-guard, you smile shyly. “Well, a competition with you is not something I would want to miss.”
“I’m going to win,” Tobirama brags confidently. “You know that already.”
“Give this woman a chance, Tobirama, she’ll make you run for your money.”
Tobirama raises his eyebrows. “You have some guts to say that to me.”
You elbow him. “I think that you lack people who tell you the truth. You are not all that impressive.”
“Liar,” Tobirama immediately says. He spares you a knowing look.
You look away, trying not to blush. “Yeah, yeah. I lie a lot. You should expect that already.”
Tobirama nods, and he seems to be thinking about what he is about to say. You turn to him expectantly, and it catches him off-guard.
“You told me the truth when it counted,” Tobirama murmurs after a while.
You frown, trying to remember what he is talking about.
Tobirama is acting really weird and you cannot find a reason why.
“Let’s cross swords,” Tobirama proposes suddenly.
Your neck is seriously going to break if you keep whipping your head towards him. “What?”
“I said, let’s cross our swords,” he grits out. “A match or several. With swords.”
Tobirama keeps emphasizing each word, and you want to laugh if it was not for his very grim face. What is wrong with him?
This is the first time you have heard someone challenge you like this. It sounds so official, and not at all barbaric.
“Okay,” you acquiesce, uncertain.
Tobirama nods and he gestures towards a path leading back into the village. He takes very long strides, and you jog towards him to catch up and walk by his side. You keep glancing at him, but he reveals nothing except the pink tint of his ears.
//
Instead of bokkens, Tobirama opts to stick with real blades and you are starting to wonder whether he has a plan to kill you today. You cannot help jumping into that conclusion because Tobirama has been acting really strange around you. One moment, he is serious and scolding, the next, he seems to make allowances for your jokes and even participates in a banter.
Maybe this is what makes him truly dangerous. He is unpredictable in his own right.
Well, a match is not only defined by skills and strength. Sometimes you have to poke where it hurts the most before the actual fight.
And it seems like Tobirama also knows this.
The two of you stare each other down, one hand on your respective swords, ready to draw it. You observe the clean lines of Tobirama’s form, and you see him do the same with you.
At the same time, the two of you brandish your blades and you both hold it in front of you. The blades sing, and you bend your knees lower.
Tobirama watches the expression on your face change, revealing nothing.
He charges first, gaining his advantage to be on the offensive.
Tobirama’s strength is greater than yours and you know that you will not be able to take the brunt of his attack with a simple block, so you step forward and to the side to kill his momentum, and you strike down his sword towards the ground.
At the same time, you aim a back kick towards his chest.
Tobirama jumps back, and lunges his blade towards you, but you are quick to duck down and parry his blade.
You slash and he meets your sword, and the two of you size each other up again between the cross of your swords.
He pushes on you downwards, hard and with purpose. You let him, making him lean all his weight down. Your back arcs slightly, and when you feel that he is pushing you with more strength, you sweep your blade to the side and he follows it.
You get away from him, and when you turn back to him, your blade follows, swinging towards him.
Your blades connect, and they make several arcs in the air, before you are able to get behind him and aim an attack behind him. Tobirama immediately steps around you, the front of his body facing the side, and with his sword horizontal and level with his temple.
You regard him, one hand on the hilt of your sword and in front of your body. Tobirama advances, and you slide to your knees, slamming the flat of your blade behind his knees as you pass him by. You get back to your feet, not wasting time to follow it up. Tobirama is slightly bending his knees from the impact, and you quickly swing up and around him, wrapping your body around his, and with your weight and momentum from the swing, you push Tobirama to the ground, and with a flip of your hilt, you align the sharp edge of your blade against the side of his neck. Your palm holds the edge of your hilt, ready to strike him.
Tobirama immediately puts his sword up, pressing it on the side of your neck as well.
“So?” You ask him. You lean forward towards his face. If he chooses to strike you, he will have no room.
There is a storm in Tobirama’s eyes, but they are not angry. He looks alive.
“Your win,” Tobirama calmly says. His pulse on his neck betrays him as it thrums against your blade.
For a second, you are tempted to lean down even closer.
Tobirama seems to have predicted that because he holds his breath.
Nothing happens.
“I see.” You get off of him and sheath your blade back into its scabbard.
You help Tobirama up to his feet, and then he holds his scabbard to slide his sword in it.
"How did you learn how to fight?" Tobirama inquires.
You shrug. "I'd be lying if I said I learned it on my own...but well." You grin. "I was something of a thug, so I learned through fighting rings."
Tobirama does not seem to look shocked at this. "Like for money?"
"Yeah, they bet and stuff. For entertainment." You purse your lips, making sure to guard your tone. "There was this feudal lord's son who knew how to fight. I learned under him for a while…"
Tobirama glances at you with an open look.
You sigh, trying to control the shaking of your voice as you say, "He was not all that good. One thing led to another, and when he pushed me into a corner, I killed him to get away."
You grow quiet at your confession. You surprise yourself that you would reveal this to Tobirama, but you know that he is not the kind of man to run his mouth.
The only thing you worry about is how he will choose to use this information on you.
Like you said. You are diving into the unknown whenever you are with Tobirama.
Tobirama, for once, does not look judgemental. He seems to understand where you are coming from.
"It was not your fault," Tobirama quietly reassured.
You stare at him, bewildered. This is the first time you have heard those words. The world always seems to condemn you, but Tobirama, who you expect to judge you the most, seems to accept what you have done.
You swallow to control the tears that are pricking your eyes.
You let out an uneasy chuckle.
"So, how about that race?"
//
Tobirama seems disappointed that you are going back to your own home, but your week at the Senju household is over, and you must go back to your own space. Throughout the week, Tobirama constantly challenges you, whether it is about sword fighting, general sparring, more tedious studying, target practice with his students and racing through trees.
You have gotten a lot better, even though you still stumble and fall at times, but you are better than the person you were at the beginning of summer.
Tobirama stands by the gate of his house, his arms folded as you face him.
"Don’t worry. I'll still be a pain in your ass tomorrow when I see you."
"I am looking forward to it, then," Tobirama replies.
You nod and you gather up the courage to say your next words. You stare at your feet first and then, you take a deep breath.
"Thanks," you tell him nervously. You pause awkwardly. "For everything."
Tobirama slowly nods. "Sure."
"I'm going, then."
Tobirama watches you as you walk away from him, and he walks the opposite way, towards the Hokage's office, towards his brother, where he must attend to his duties.
You walk towards your home, thinking about the small moments that had transpired between you and Tobirama and you find that you are examining each one, and exploring what you feel towards them. You are surprised to find that you do not find yourself running away from it, expecting danger to catch up with you. Sure, Tobirama can be confusing, and he is truly a bastard, but you like spending time with him.
You will never admit it, but he is actually quite kind. Just saying it in your head makes you want to cringe, but you do not want to lie to yourself anymore.
You see your place ahead, but it looks different today. There are things littering the grounds, a mattress, some clothes, and you see the owner of the building toss out more things, and it slowly dawns to you that they are yours .
You gasp, horrified at the sight and you run towards the owner.
“Hey, what the hell?!” You shout. “What is this?!”
The owner glares at you. “You missed the due date for the bills.”
“What?” Your throat tightens as you see your own things in disarray on the ground.
The owner throws down the books that Tobirama has given you and you are quick to bend down and pick them up again.
“Couldn’t you give me some time? I know I can pay!” You cry out, clutching the books to your chest. “Please.”
The owner folds their arms. “And I can make it rain tomorrow.” They turn away. “Find some place else. You are evicted.”
“Wait!” You desperately. “Please!”
The owner turns to give you an exasperated look. “Are you really an adult? Even an orphan child can fare better than you.”
“But I’m a shinobi and I was incapacitated!”
“You should have paid ahead then!”
Hurt strucks your heart and you try to fight the tears that are coming.
“Wait,” you whisper after the owner helplessly. Your chest feels tight, and inside, your heart drops to your stomach. You focus on getting breaths in, but it is harder to take in air when you are trying to hold your tears back.
“Shit,” you murmur to yourself as you bend down to get your things. You lay out a blanket to the ground to dump your clothes and your necessities into one big pile. “Shit…”
A few people pass by, and they gawk at you as you scramble to get your life together. You hate their sorry looks, and it is so humiliating to be seen like this, crawling and collecting your possessions on the ground.
You laugh bitterly to yourself. Why did you ever think that you could live on your own and manage to hold a place in society? What is the point in all of this?
You wipe a stray tear away and tighten the knot over your blanket. You heave it up and swing it over your shoulder. A headache tears through one temple to the next, but you grit your teeth.
You loathe the idea of it, but you know that it is time to go back. He is the only one who can help you. He has offered you a place, and you will now take it.
So you go back to Madara, under his wing and his shadow.
Your steps are slow, still processing what just happened to you. You make it to the Uchiha compound by nightfall, and you keep going, ignoring the eyes watching your sorry parade. Madara slides his door open to welcome you, his black eyes as dark as the night. He does not seem surprised. He steps aside to let you in, and you drop your things on the floor, like some sort of surrender.
Madara’s hand slowly comes up to the side of your face, as if he will startle you. His touch is comforting and gentle, but it reminds you too much of your beginning with him, and you feel like you have ran in circles and still ended up in the same place. You feel like nothing has changed. You are still that person Madara found in the woods, soaked in blood, the nickname Man-Killer uttered by all the cold, dead bodies surrounding you.
“Welcome home,” he greets you.
Your eyes swim, and tears fall from your eyes, but it is not from relief. You are frustrated at yourself for letting this happen.
“It’s alright,” Madara admonishes and you come forward into his embrace. “It’s alright.”
His hand comes up to the back of your head.
“You are home.”
.
.
.
[CHAPTER NINE >>>]
#angelica writes#avversiera writes#Tobirama Senju#Senju Tobirama#senju tobirama x reader#tobirama x reader#tobirama x you#senju tobirama x you#tobirama x y/n#naruto fanfiction#'til death do us part
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Unbidden - Act 2, chapter 1
Masterlist | Previous | Next
Content warnings: sex work mention, one noncon kiss, minor noncon touch (suggestive but not sexual)
Morgan was deeply uncomfortable. The caravan ride had been entertaining, at least for him. Cain was delighted to have an attentive audience, and after divulging all he knew about the events currently unfolding - Diablo's corruption and influence spreading, the dark wanderer last seen heading east and his possible motives - he had expounded at length on his theories about the forces of Heaven and Hell and what moves they might make next. He also shared tales of the time he'd spent in the desert cities in his younger days, and anything else that happened across his mind. It seemed he had an unlimited capacity for storytelling. Morgan liked it, content to absorb as much knowledge as he could.
However, once they'd reached their destination, they had been almost immediately ushered to the palace by a taciturn guard armed with a very sturdy-looking spear. Cain had already slipped away, ostensibly in pursuit of an old acquaintance, but both Blaise and Morgan found themselves visiting the sultan unexpectedly.
Upon their arrival, the man, who introduced himself as Jerhyn, had actually been quite friendly. He had somehow heard about their defeat of Andariel and was eager to pay for their assistance with problems that had arisen in his city. The mercenary guild was struggling to maintain their ranks in the face of increasing demonic activity. Blaise had agreed to join them readily; working together with a group to combat monsters and demons was well within her comfort zone. Morgan was trying to delicately express his preference to work alone, but the sultan was being insistent and it was proving difficult to argue.
The problem he was experiencing was rooted in the attack the harem guild had sustained weeks earlier, prompting Jerhyn to offer the members shelter within his spacious palace. Priests of Rathma had no particular rules with regards to celibacy, but surrounded as he was now by women and men in various states of undress, Morgan found himself wishing they did. He'd never managed to grasp the allure of intimate relations. He was aware of it as a possible motivation for the actions of others - there was a long list of those - but he'd resigned himself to simply not understanding it. The guild members flocked around Jerhyn, all flashing jewels and rustling silks. It was impossible to look at the man without seeing an astonishing amount of bare flesh. Of course Morgan was familiar with the human body, had helped with preparations for some of the more involved burial rites, but this was different. It felt like an invasion of privacy, despite the fact that the display was clearly intentional. His discomfort was making it difficult to negotiate.
Blaise, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying herself, gazing around with frank admiration. When Jerhyn finally relented, allowing them until the morning to come to a final decision, she grinned wolfishly.
"Does that mean we get to spend the night here?"
Jerhyn smiled indulgently. "Of course, if you wish it. You may stay as long as you like. Any of the companions here can show you to the guest chambers. Please, enjoy yourselves."
Morgan stood and bowed politely before turning to leave. A heavy hand came down on his shoulder.
"Where do you think you're going?" Blaise hissed next to his ear.
"To find an inn," he whispered back. Her grip tightened and he fought the urge to pry her fingers off of him. It would not be wise to make a scene so soon after their introduction, he reminded himself. No matter that he was already uncomfortable to start with, and it was only getting worse.
"You know it's incredibly rude to turn down an invitation like this, right," she pointed out. He... yes, he did know that, now that he thought about it. The overwhelming desire to be anywhere else was impeding his ability to remember all the rules of social interaction. He did not outwardly protest as Blaise steered him back toward the crowd of concubines. "Have a little fun for once," she said at a more normal volume, pushing him into the waiting embrace of a pale, slender young woman before turning away to mingle.
"Nice to meet you, sweetheart," the woman purred, running her hand down his chest. He tried not to shrink away from the contact. "Let me show you to your room. Don't worry, you don't have to be shy with me." She flashed him a dazzling smile.
"Thank you," he managed. She took him by the hand and led him down a staircase and up a corridor while he alternated between looking at his feet and looking at the ceilings. They appeared to be intricately painted tiles, but the details were lost on him.
Morgan heaved a small sigh of relief when she stepped into a room, beckoning him to follow with a wink. Finally, a respite. He opened his mouth to thank her for her guidance, but she muffled him with a kiss, pressing him into the doorway. He froze for a long, panicked second, torn between the desire to push her away and the lack of any adequately clothed spot on her body to push against. As she raised her arms to embrace him, that did it. He reached up to shove against her shoulder, leaning away.
"What are you doing?" he gasped.
"Showing you a good time, sweetie." He was not having a good time. She went to lean in again and he wriggled free, ducking under her arm and backing away into the room.
"Please, don't." He kept his hand raised to ward her off. She pouted.
"What, you don't like me?"
Not especially. The invasion into his personal space had been unexpected and unwelcome. "I'm sure you're... quite lovely," he said haltingly - it was more of a guess than a lie - "but I'm not... interested in... that." He gestured vaguely, hoping to somehow encapsulate the concept of physical intimacy.
A look of understanding dawned on her face, to Morgan's relief. "Oh. Oh! Sorry about that. I can usually guess. Your friend seemed pretty sure down there, doesn't she know...? Oh well, just sit tight, I'll get out of your hair." She flashed him that bright smile again as she left.
Morgan sat wearily on the edge of the bed. New places were exhausting, and he still had to figure out how to convince the sultan that he would gladly help the mercenaries as long as he was permitted to engage with them as little as possible. How best to frame it? He tested a few different scenarios in his head, starting to build a script from the pieces that seemed most compelling. It was laborious enough that he didn't notice the figure at the entrance to the room until it spoke.
"Not a lot of people turn down Meera's company. Perhaps I'll be a little more to your liking."
"Please, I just - um." He'd started to answer before looking up, and found himself wholly unprepared for the vision that greeted him. The most breathtakingly beautiful person he'd ever seen was leaning casually against the doorway. He smiled at Morgan, a flash of pearly teeth bright against the deep umber of his skin, and moved in to perch on the edge of the bed beside him.
"My name is Jemali. What should I call you?" He laid a delicate hand on Morgan's thigh. That broke the spell. Why did these people insist on so much physical contact?
"Morgan," he said, sliding away from the other man. "I don't like being touched," he added.
"You say that," Jemali smiled, edging closer, "but you've never been touched by me. I'd remember a face as handsome as yours." He reached out to caress Morgan's cheek, but he ducked away from the contact, standing and backing away.
"I don't like being lied to, either." The flattery was over the top. A particularly kind and tactful person might go so far as to describe him as distinctive, but that was just a polite way to skirt around the issue. He was ugly. That was an objective fact. There was no point in trying to disguise or deny it.
"Morgan, honey, I'm not - look, I think we got off on the wrong foot here. Let's start over." He patted the bed next to him. Morgan did not move. Jemali sighed. "At least meet me halfway here. I'm trying to please you. If you don't want Meera and you don't want me, what do you want?"
"To rest after a long journey." His patience was wearing thin and he didn't want any sort of company, no matter how lovely they might be to look at. "I just want to be alone."
Jemali arched an eyebrow. "You have a free shot with the finest concubines money can buy, and you don't want to take it?"
"I do not."
"You a eunuch or something?' He cast an appraising glance at Morgan's trousers.
"No."
"Well, now you have me curious." He sprawled across the bed, stretching long limbs to claim the space. "What possible reason could you have to turn both of us down like this? We aren't used to the sting of rejection, you know." He pouted.
"Is it not enough-" he closed his eyes briefly. Irritation was a loss of control, a failure to adhere to the principles that guided him. Plus, raising his voice was starting to hurt his throat. He took a calming breath and tried again. "I don't desire anyone's company. Please just accept that."
"Fine. You don't have to tell me." Jemali rolled over onto his stomach, propping his face up on his hands. "Akarat knows I could use a break anyway. So tell me about yourself, Morgan. Or don't you like talking, either?"
"Not really."
Jemali rolled his eyes. "Of course not. Just my luck, too. Stoic adventurer types are usually right up my alley, but you're going to be a tough nut to crack. I can tell. Don't-" he held up one finger to cut off Morgan's next words before they'd left his mouth, "- don't ask me to leave, because I will, but nobody's going to believe we've finished so quickly. And we're on orders from the sultan to see to you and your friend, so that means I'll have to send in someone else and you'll have to go through this all over again. So just let me sit here for... oh, an hour or so, and then we can both be on our merry ways."
"Fine."
Morgan seated himself in a plush chair opposite the bed, since the other man seemed to be making himself comfortable and he wanted to stay out of his reach. The following silence lasted for nearly a minute before Jemali's voice jolted Morgan out of his thoughts.
"So you must be some sort of wizard." Jemali was studying him, head tilted in what must have been a practiced pose. It was impossible for a person to look so thoroughly statuesque by chance. "You don't have the build to be a fighter. Are you any good? I mean, you must be, or else you wouldn't be here enjoying my company." He stretched languorously. Was he even capable of being still? "Oh, what a story! A strong, silent sorcerer, come to protect us from the clutches of foul demons! This could have been almost romantic, you know. What a waste." He splayed long fingers dramatically across his bare chest, casting his eyes up toward the ceiling.
Ah, yes, the demons. Perhaps he could get some useful information out of this encounter. "Were you there?"
"Was I there when - oh, you want to talk about that." Jemali hugged one knee to his chest, running the edge of a painted fingernail along his bottom lip. "No. No, I was lucky enough to be on a house call. Lost some friends, though." So he could be still after all. Morgan winced. Of course this lively individual had been friends with the victims. Of course the memories would be painful. He hadn't meant to distress him, even though he'd just been hoping for some peace and quiet.
"I'm sorry for your loss," he offered. The other man's lips quirked upward.
"Thanks, honey. That's nice of you to say." He gave a small sigh. "You want to know what you're up against, huh?"
"If I can."
"Smart. Now, we don't make a habit of judging our clientele, but everyone agrees there was a suspicious character who came through just beforehand. Refused to take off his cloak or even pull down his hood. Didn't want anything, just asked a lot of questions and left. Really strange. The demons showed up a few hours later."
Morgan leaned forward. That sounded like it could have been the dark wanderer Cain had described. "Do you know what he asked?"
Jemali shrugged. "Something about old myths, some sort of tomb or something. I don't know."
That would be enough to start with. He could question the sultan in the morning and go from there. Hunting for information was easy enough to justify as an individual task. If the wanderer was looking for something old, that might give him occasion to scour the city archives for information, a pleasantly solitary task. It could also be a justification for working with Deckard Cain, who clearly had some familiarity with the area. The scholar was a useful resource, he reminded himself. It was just a bonus that he liked the old man's company. Things were starting to come together.
Morgan leaned back, satisfied. The action made the collection of small pouches on his belt dig uncomfortably into his side, pushed out of place by the plush stuffing of the chair. He stood to remove them, but of course nothing could go without comment.
"What's all that?"
He considered his options. Ignoring the question seemed unlikely to work, given Jemali's persistence. A vague answer would just lead to more questions, and he didn't particularly want to get into the details of his profession. It might solve the pressing issue of privacy for the moment, but word would inevitably spread, and that could hinder his effectiveness with the sultan. Or get him expelled from the city, depending on the citizens' mood. It wouldn't be the first time. Might as well give a brief explanation.
"Potions. Ingredients for potions. Dried foods. Trinkets." He pointed at each pouch as he named its contents.
Jemali's face lit up. "What kind of trinkets? Like jewels? Oh, can I look at them?"
They were mainly jewellery. Sometimes a skeleton rose with some trappings of its former life still intact - clothes, weapons, baubles. At some point Morgan had started collecting the ones that were particularly appealing to him. The dead generally had no use for possessions. Sometimes he bartered them for supplies, which was useful enough to justify the collection. Sometimes he traded them for other, prettier baubles. To further aid him in his travels, he told himself. Nicer trinkets fetched him more supplies. But he also liked to just look at them sometimes, to appreciate their shapes and the way light played off their surfaces.
He passed the small bag to the courtesan at arm's length. Jemali upended it over the bed in front of him, spreading out the contents to admire them. Morgan, in turn, settled back in his chair and admired Jemali now that his attention was elsewhere. People didn't generally appreciate being stared at, he knew, but everything about the man was arresting. The shape and warm colour of his eyes, the smooth slopes of his skin, the slick, uniform coils of his hair. Even his movements were effortlessly graceful. His voice was easy to listen to, soft and lilting.
"Lost in contemplation of my beauty, hmm?"
Mortifyingly, he was right. "I - I'm sorry. For staring." Morgan averted his eyes. Stupid to have let himself get so distracted. He really did need to rest.
"You don't have to apologize, darling. Clearly you have excellent taste in pretty things," Jemali purred, playing his fingers first over the array of baubles in front of him and then drawing them up to frame his face. He batted his eyelashes. "You sure you don't want a little taste of this?"
"Quite sure." The threat of physical contact was enough to put Morgan back on the defensive. He shifted uncomfortably.
Jemali tilted his head. "You're a funny little puzzle, Morgan. Tell you what, let's make a deal."
"What kind of deal?"
"I'll tell the others that you've requested to be my exclusive client. They won't bother you if they know you're mine," he grinned.
It would have been preferable for the guild to ignore him entirely, but he supposed dealing with a single courtesan would be much easier than trying to explain himself over and over. At least this one seemed to understand his request not to be touched.
"And in exchange?"
Jemali reclined fully, wriggling his shoulders into the sheets. "You let me come and go as I please. I don't have a good place here to take a break when I need some alone time. I'll be as quiet as a little mouse, you'll hardly know I'm here."
He considered. It seemed favourable, provided he could count on Jemali to actually be quiet when he needed to concentrate. But would the guild really keep bothering him as long as he stayed here? Or was Jemali overstating the issue to get what he wanted? He eyed the other man warily.
"And I promise I won't lay a finger on you without your permission," he added. That was enough to tip the scales.
"We have a deal."
"Wonderful!" Jemali clapped his hands together and sat up. "Now let's seal it with a kiss, as a matter of tradition... oh, honey, it's all right, I'm just teasing. I said I'll respect your personal space, and honestly I meant it. I'm sorry, Morgan, you don't have to look so scared."
He clenched his jaw. He wasn't scared of being touched, he just didn't want it. Especially not from someone teasing him. Of course, he should have been expecting it. Tiredness and discomfort had interfered with his usual defenses. And if he was honest with himself, so had the peaceful journey, and so had the man's unexpected beauty. He had to remember that he'd earned a measure of respect from his traveling companions, that he couldn't expect the same sort of treatment from a stranger. Especially not such a pretty one, when he was just the opposite. That was just the way the world worked.
"I am going to rest here," he said, closing his eyes and hoping he could take Jemali at his word to leave him be. That ought to end the conversation.
"You can use the bed, you know."
"This is fine."
"All right, suit yourself." True to his word, Jemali was quiet. Morgan could hear the sheets rustle as he made himself comfortable, and shortly afterward his breathing grew slow and deep. Once he was sure the other man was asleep, he finally felt comfortable enough to slip into a light meditation.
It was nearly two hours later by Morgan's count when Jemali gave a soft, almost musical sigh as he awoke and stretched. There were some quiet sounds of fabric and jewellery shifting as he arranged himself, then the soft pat of his feet hitting the floor. "Until next time, darling," he said in a low whisper, and then he let himself out.
Morgan waited a few minutes before relaxing back into a deeper meditation. The chair was actually quite comfortable, much better than the back of the caravan. There was no need to move to the bed. Tomorrow he would meet with the sultan, well rested and hopefully on his own terms. He was cautiously looking forward to it.
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This was purely self-indulgent bittersweet “grogu passes from old age” fic that is brought to you by me and Saturn by Sleeping at Last
()
Near the Academy's training grounds is a monument surrounded by flowers and sunshine. It doesn't loom in the background; there are no nervous glances from young padawans, no pressure of a legacy. It is a simple yet well-cared for stone rectangle reaching no higher than an adult human's waist, engraved with both Basic and what padawans soon learn is Mando'a. It's not a name, but a Mandalorian fighting chant.
If you ask Grand Master Grogu, he will tell you plainly why it is there: his father, Din Djarin, was a Mandalorian, and he wishes to honor him. No, he is not buried here, no need to tip toe around it. This monument is meant to be a place of peace. Somewhere to go after training, or simply to sit and contemplate. The Grand Master often contemplates here.
It's the only straightforward answer the Grand Master gives for anything, and so it's never long before new initiates know the story, doing their own research into Din Djarin. Surprisingly, he was Mand'alor, a king of an entire planet. They wonder if that makes their Grand Master a prince, which is a running joke they're pretty sure the Grand Master doesn't know about.
(Of course he knows.)
Din Djarin was a bounty hunter before that, a successful one. Still, he'd had a brief stint as a Guild traitor before being miraculously reinstated with full pardon. The records are ancient and inconsistent. That doesn't stop determined Jedi.
The monument serves its purpose. Din Djarin is remembered.
And Grogu lied.
There is an ornamental grave on Mandalore, grand as you'd expect for the king that reclaimed the Mandalorians' home and started social reforms that united the people in the Way. But Grogu's father is buried here. The roots of flowers flourish from his body, a kaleidoscope of color and life.
He lived long, for a human, and died a warrior's death. His last wish has become the foundation of Grogu's philosophy: Be good. Grogu says it every time he leaves the padawans to their lessons. He also says it to fully trained Jedi Masters before they leave to help beings around the galaxy. The adults have learned to take it sincerely, not as their Grand Master telling an indulgent joke.
The Masters also learn the importance of life. Grogu is 987 years old, yet his human father, alive for so short a time, is still so ingrained in him. No matter how small it seems, someone can leave a legacy that helps others thrive.
Today, Grogu says it to padawans about to face the trials. "Be good."
They smile and bow. That's something Master Skywalker's spirit has expressed pride over. The Jedi smile more than they ever did in the Old Order.
Some don't pass. Grogu makes sure they know that's okay. Even a king can fall on his face.
()
Grogu wakes knowing this is his last day. He says nothing about it, though he knows the Masters and a few of the more sensitive padawans sense something. They flock to him more than usual, chattering about classes or meditating beside him. He knows all their names. He wonders if this is how his father felt, raising him. Like something is glowing in his chest, bright enough to break his heart. He likes to think so.
They all hesitate to leave him when he bids them good night, adding the usual Be good. He senses a few come to his door after he shuts it. Not intruding. Just...lingering. Grogu is grateful.
He sighs contentedly when he opens his windows, letting in the warm night. Then he goes to a chest at the end of his bed and retrieves a glistening helmet.
No, he's not supposed to have it. As far as the living Mandalorians know, like his body, Din Djarin's helmet is in his tomb.
It's only a crime if you get caught.
Grogu takes it to his favorite chair and goes about polishing it. With his diligence, it hardly needs it, but it's a comfortable and comforting task. He does not do so out of grief. It's merely nice to take the time to remember.
"Marching long, you have been," he murmurs. As he moves the cloth, he sees his reflection and chuckles. "Recognize me, could you? Old, I am. Joint pain, you know nothing of."
When he's done, the stars glimmer in the beskar. He smiles proudly at himself. Unlike previous nights, when he retires, he does not put the helmet back in the chest, but places it beside him. Unfortunately, his bed is on the ground. Even he is too old to get into a hammock now.
His claws clink on the visor. "Be good, I have tried."
"You've been amazing, kid."
"Tired, I am."
"That's okay. Even a king can fall on his face, right?"
"In the mud."
Boots echo on the floor, and there is his father's face. He is not opaque or blue. Grogu can see the brown of his eyes as they crinkle, the glint of his armor in the old-fashioned candlelight.
"Still a comedian," he says.
"Hereditary."
His father huffs. Then his smile turns quiet. It is the smile that tamed Grogu's worst nightmares.
"It's time to go," he says, "Don't be afraid."
Grogu is not. It's coming back to him, that old childish notion: his father will make everything alright.
He reaches up. His father reaches back.
In the morning, his pupils brace themselves before opening his door. They find a Mandalorian helmet presiding over empty robes, shining with the dawn.
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For the prompt fill, number 3 for Indruck seems pretty fitting!
Here you go! Prompt 3 was “sweet” , Indrid’s design is based on a barracuda and I went with SFW on this one.
“Duck, can you do me a favor when you lock up?” Leo dumps orange taffy into a glass jar.
“Sure, what d’you need?”
“Got some locks for the garbage cans; put ‘em on after you set the alarm out back. Somethin’s been getting into our trash every damn night for the last week. It makes a god-awful mess and I’m worried we’re gonna get a fine for littering.”
Duck nods, turns his attention back to the flock of tourists approaching the window. The afternoon is swallowed up in a pit of sugar-sticky air and blasts of welcome cold from the freezer. There are worse places for a summer job than Tarkesian’s Sweets--he’s right by the water, can watch the wildlife on his lunch break, and Leo is low-maintenance boss--but after eight hours on his feet getting splashed with soda or burned on the popcorn machine, he’s ready to head home. The trash locks have other ideas.
It takes ten minutes of cursing and fumbling to get the first bin secured. He doesn’t even know how the damn things are getting overturned; they seem too heavy for a raccoon or seagull to knock to the ground.
A tiny splash behind him, probably a fish jumping.
Then a crooked, shiny pole slowly enters his periphery. In dim yellow of the streetlight, he can tell the end of it is curved. It pokes inelegantly at the wall, then the locked can, then the wall once again, and then Duck’s leg.
The hook pulls back, pauses, then pokes him again.
“The fuck?” He grabs it when it goes for another jab, pulls up only for his arms to be wrenched towards the water. Not to be outdone, he tugs harder. His opponent retaliates with enough force that he almost tumbles off the pier. He growls, braces his foot on the railing, and hauls the hook and its owner up onto worn wood with him.
It’s a guy about his age, angular face framed by a mess of silver hair and pierced ears. Figures it’s some sort of artsy punk swimming around poking people in the leg. That explains why he’s shirtless too.
It does not, however, explain why he has a tail.
“Rude.” The guy sits up on his hands, silver and black tail flicking droplets of saltwater everywhere, “I don’t go around stopping you from eating.”
“Look man, I just wanted you to stop jabbin me and knockin the trash over.” Maybe if he doesn’t mention the tail it will go away.
“How else am I supposed to get at those odd, pulpy tubs full of ‘cookies and cream’ or ‘bubblegum’?”
“The fuck--wait, you were tryin’ to get the ice cream containers out of the trash?”
“Yes? I also want more of the caramel apples” he pronounces the last word “applees” causing Duck to giggle in spite of himself.
“Look, I have to piece words together from the signs on your store. And you obviously know what I meant or you would not be laughing, so do you have any in the cans or not?”
“Nope” Duck gets his laughter under control, “sold out of caramel apples today.”
“Drat” the visitor starts scooting across the pier towards the unlocked trashcan, “I’ll see what else I can find.”
“Wait don’t fuckin knock that over, Leo’ll be pissed at me if he comes back to a mess, and I don’t feel like pickin up trash because you want a snack!”
“But I’m starving!” The merman, because at this point there’s no way he can deny that’s what’s been rooting through the garbage, whacks at Duck with his tail.
“I know for a damn fact there’s food down there.” He points at the bay.
“Only if you can catch it, and only if it is not in another mer’s territory. Which much of this area is; I am new here, young, and thus have no claim to any patch of sea.”
“You ain’t got any family?” Something pings in his chest. It’s the part of his heart that made him pick out the runt of litter when his mom let him get a cat on his thirteenth birthday, that means he always splits his lunch with Juno because she’s running track and needs it more than he does, that makes him tear up when he thinks about everything a sapling has to survive to become a tree.
“Merfolk leave home at sixteen.” The merman shrugs.
Duck sighs, grabbing his keys, “If I bring you somethin to eat, will you leave the trash alone?”
“Yes.”
He shuts off the alarm, grabs a cone and fills it with bright blue ice cream. The merman is back in the water when he returns, arms resting on the pier.
“Oooh, my favorite!” He takes the ice cream, biting huge chunks out of it as Duck re-arms the door.
Crunch
“...The container is edible!!”
He sits next to the merman’s arms, “Guess you wouldn’t have had an ice cream cone before, huh.”
“No, but it is lovely. I wish humans threw these away more often.” He polishes off the treat, licks his fingers clean with moans Duck hears in his dreams later, and smiles, “thank you for the meal. Goodnight.”
There’s a final flash of silvery tail, and then Duck’s alone in the breezy night air.
--------------------------------------------------------------
“That’s a sandwich, correct?”
“AHfuck” Duck knocks over his water bottle in surprise. He’s eating behind the candy store like usual and not expecting an aquatic dining companion.
“Apologies. I have seen you eating here before and thought you may like some company.” He sets a sea urchin on the ground and proceeds to bang on it with a rock.
“Found some lunch?”
“I followed some otters; I was mainly trying to draw them, but they led me to a kelp bed no one else was in.”
“...Wait how do you draw underwater?”
“Let me finish cracking this open and I will show you.”
Duck spends the rest of his lunch break on his belly, the merman showing him a sketchbook and enchanted pen that conjures whatever colors the illustrator envisions. The mer is genuinely excited to talk to him. He assumes the nuzzling is due to him smelling like cotton candy; he doesn’t mind, the mer’s skin is cool and he makes cute little noises whenever he touches Duck.
Before the stands, Duck asks, “You got a name?”
“Indrid.”
“Duck.”
Indrid’s eyes flick to the nearby estuary.
“Yeah, like the bird. It’s a nickname.”
“I like it.” Indrid smiles, dives, and flaps his tail once in farewell.
------------------------------------------------------
“Cutting school again?” Indrid’s voice bubbles up by his feet.
“Yep.” Duck watches the spring clouds roll by from his favorite spot on the beach. It’s secluded and far from town, meaning no one will give him shit for skipping class and nobody will see Indrid.
He worked at Leo’s until this past summer, only quitting at the start of his senior year of high school when Indrid pointed out that much of Kepler was surrounded by water and that, if Duck wanted to see him, he did not have to keep working at the candy store in order to do so.
“Not that I mind the free food.” Indrid winks.
“Just gonna bring you bulk ice cream from Safeway; no way am I missin out on that chirpin you do when you eat it.”
Duck slides the grocery bag towards the surf, “not like KCC is gonna rescind my offer. Ain’t a fuckin Ivy League or some shit.”
“And you will be happy there?”
“Yeah. They got a decent work-study program with the park, so I can still get a job as a ranger if I want to.”
“Oh. Good.”
Indrid sounds sad, and Duck sits up on his elbows. His friend’s torso is fully on land, his tail fidgeting in the foam.
“What’s up?
“I...Barclay told me his human is going to a school further inland, and I know there are many places you could got to learn. You...you did not choose to stay in Kepler because you feel the need to look after me, did you?”
“Course not.” Duck is sitting up now, aching to stroke Indrid’s hair, “I mean, I’m glad we’re still gonna be able to see each other, and I really hopin I can get a room near the beach so it’s easy to come talk. But this is the right choice for me; if I really want to, I can transfer to a different school in a few years, and I can learn a lot here without takin on a shit-ton of debt. Besides, ain’t like I think you’re helpless; I love bringin you stuff and rubbin your fin when it’s sore, but that’s because you’re my friend. Don’t think you’re helpless. I never have.”
“Not even when I was stealing trash?”
“Thought you were a fuckin nuisance, not helpless.” He playfully nudges his shoulder with his toes.
Indrid turns his head and nips his calf, “How’s that for a nuisance?”
“Not much, felt kinda nice. Uh, I mean, uh, fuck, so, where’d that worry about my stayin come from?”
The mer crawls and wiggles until they’re shoulder to shoulder, “I think my future sight is finally developing; my fathers arrived around the time he turned eighteen, so it makes sense mine would arrive at a similar point. The trouble is, I am having a hard time telling the futures from my own imaginings and worries.”
“That fuckin sucks.”
“I’ll manage. All seers struggle at the beginning. I just wish I was quicker at learning whether certain timelines are really more likely or if they are just ones that I want to be likely.”
“Like what?”
Indrid glances at him, opens his mouth, then shuts it and faces the sea.
Duck smirks, “‘Drid, there somethin you wanna ask me?”
“No. Yes. Maybe? I, I just don’t want to pressure youOOOHhhh that’s not fair” he flops on his back with a groan as Duck scritches his upper tail, “you know I’ll do anything when you touch me like this.”
“Damn right I do. And what I want is for you to tell me the truth.”
Indrid whines, covers his face with his hands.
“Do it or I’ll stop.”
“Rude” Indrid lowers his hands enough that his red eyes peer over the top, “is that any way to treat a mer who wants to kiss you?”
Duck gives his answer by pouncing on his friend, pinning narrow shoulders into the sand as he devours his mouth in kisses.
“You like that treatment better?”
“Goodness, yes.” Indrid pulls him back down, slipping his tongue between his lips and nibbling his neck when he finally stops to breathe. Then his hand flails sideways, grabbing the plastic bag and chucking it further up the beach.
“The, the tide is coming in and I, ah, foresee us working up quite the appetite.” He tugs Duck’s collar down with his teeth, nuzzling and licking across his skin with little hums of pleasure, “so I want to save those for afterwards. Who knows” he grins, “maybe we’ll need energy for round two as well.”
Duck cups his cheek, inhales the scent of the sea and the sight of his future, “I like the way you think, sweet thing.”
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