#How To Avoid Divorce Disaster

[armpirate]

The Vows Between Us || Jungkook

Part 2

pairing: JK x fem!reader || Arranged marriage

w.c.: 13.6k

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, oral sex (male receiving), female masturbation, unprotected sex, teasing, edging (Minors DNI! Refrain from reading if you're not +18, and ignore if you don't like this type of content)

Aprox. time of reading: 40 / 50 minutes

Summary: For Jungkook, marrying you was a calculated move -a necessary step to secure the company that was rightfully his. But also a move to know you'd be his after years of looking at you from afar. For you, it was an escape from the gilded cage your family had locked you in. What neither of you anticipated was the spark that would ignite in the ashes of your arrangement. But in a world where every touch felt like a promise and every whisper hid a secret, falling for him was your first mistake. Because just when you thought his heart might truly be yours, you uncovered the truth. Or so you thought.

MASTERLIST

The air inside Jungkook's office was warm and suffocating despite the minimalistic modern design and large floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked Berlin's skyline. You stepped inside with measured steps, your heels clicking softly on the marble floor. Jungkook was already there, leaning against the edge of his grand wooden desk with his long tattooed fingers wrapping around the pen that kept swirling on his digits every few seconds, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.

"You're early," he said, his voice smooth but laced with something smug.

"I prefer to get unpleasant things over with quickly," you replied, your tone cool and detached as you slipped off your coat. "I assume your father told you why I'm here."

Jungkook chuckled, swirling the pen one last time before putting it down. "Oh, I know. The future Mrs. Jeon wants to 'discuss terms,' right? Sounds like a business merger already." his dark eyes gleamed with interest as he looked you up and down, deliberately slow. "But I'm curious, why did you finally agree? You seemed so determined to avoid me before."

You crossed your arms, meeting his gaze without flinching. "Not everything is about you, Jungkook. My reasons are my own."

The smirk faltered for a split second before returning, this time tinged with something bittersweet. "Fair enough," he said, straightening up and taking a step closer, his voice dropping just slightly. "But you'll have to get used to things being about us. At least, that's what everyone else will expect starting next weekend."

Your pulse quickened, but you refused to show it. You kept your expression neutral, tilting your head just slightly. "Let's get one thing straight, this marriage may be inevitable, but that doesn't mean I have to like it."

Jungkook smiled -slow, dangerous, and entirely too pleased. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

That sentence alone had you rolling your eyes, trying to control yourself from slipping your tongue on how disgusted you were by that whole thing.

You exhaled slowly, your fingers tightening around the strap of yourbag. "As long as you understand where we stand, this arrangement might work. We'll play the perfect couple for the public. But behind closed doors, we keep our distance until we sign the divorce papers. Simple."

Jungkook stepped closer, closing the space between you just enough to make your breath hitch. His cologne -warm and spicy- wrapped around you like an invisible trap. "Keep our distance?" he repeated, his voice low, almost amused. "Is that what you want? Because that's not what it looked like back at that business gala... when you couldn't stop staring."

As much as you wanted to deny it, your eyes were indeed on him the whole time. He was charming and captivating, it was impossible to move your eyes away from him. But that hypnosis lasted until his family came up with the idea of imposing that marriage on you. He lost all his charm just at that moment.

You narrowed your eyes. "I was staring at the disaster unfolding around me, not at you."

Jungkook smirked, tilting his head. "Right. That's why your eyes followed me the entire night." he leaned in, his lips just a breath away from your ear. "You're good at playing it cold, Y/n. But I wonder how long you can keep that act up once we're married."

You refused to back down, your voice calm despite the spark of irritation in your chest. "I've dealt with men far more intimidating than you, Jungkook. Trust me, keeping you at arm's length won't be a challenge."

A flicker of something darker crossed his eyes -something almost dangerous. For a moment, the air between you felt heavy, charged with unspoken words and years of unresolved tension.

"Good," Jungkook finally said, his voice a whisper. "Keep trying to resist me. It'll make it that much more fun when you fail."

Your jaw tightened, and you took a step back, reclaiming the distance. "You're delusional if you think I'll ever fall for you."

Jungkook raised his eyebrows in amused awe as he took on the challenge. "We'll see, future Mrs. Jeon. We've got a lifetime to test that theory."

You turned on your heel, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how his words affected you. But as you walked toward the door, you couldn't shake the feeling that Jungkook was right. The real challenge wasn't staying distant -it was making sure you didn't get burned by the fire between you.

"By the way, you mentioned divorce... didn't you?" your tracks stopped the second he mentioned that detail, hearing his heavy steps behind you as he approached his body.

Slowly, you turned to him, unable to back down on your stance "That's what we agreed on."

"Some deals suffer changes as they have to meet different necessities, don't you think?" the way his eyebrows arched, while his lips pursed on a mocking grin almost had you losing your patience. "Divorce was ever on the plate? Because I don't think it was one of my conditions".

"No, it was one of mine" you spat back. "Either sign those divorce papers on good terms, or I'll drag you from one trial to another" Jungkook loved the challenge, he loved the way your eyes fixed on him to make sure he understood everything you were saying.

"What if I don't want to sign them?"

"Then you'll have to find another dumbass to agree to get married to you" you rolled your eyes, thinking that would be the end of your conversation, but his fingers hooked on your elbow to stop you from walking away.

You weren't sure exactly when he got so close, but you could feel the warm air escaping his nostrils on your cheeks.

"Don't try to throw a fist at me" he stopped you. "You're so used to getting what you want, don't you? You pout a little, you act a little bitchy and daddy gives you all you want. Let me give you a spoiler: that won't work with me. The moment you're my wife, you'll do as I say. And if I say I don't want to get divorced, then you won't get those fucking papers".

Your eyes started to water: rage, sadness, frustration... All those feelings were building up as you realized you got to a no-exit stop. Your plans were crumbling down, all your ideas were getting ruined, and all you could do was tighten your lips and open your eyes as much as possible so tears wouldn't escape with a blink.

Daddy's girl? He had absolutely no idea. If you were living in such a perfect place, you wouldn't have agreed in the first place, but the fact that your parents -or people who gave you shelter when you needed it- agreed on engaging their daughter with a complete stranger for money should've given him enough of a hint of your reality.

"Your choice" you managed to get rid of his grip. "Either sign those papers, or I'll make sure to tell everyone what all of this is about".

"You won't. And you wanna know how I know?" he took one step closer to you. "I'll make your life a living hell if you do".

"With what power?"

Your mocking tone was the last straw before he moved his hand from your elbow to your throat, wrapping his fingers around it and slamming your body against the wide door.

"I don't need any power for that." his eyes were dark, his threat becoming a promise "Even if it's the last thing I do, I'll make you regret ever messing with me. So you better come with a pretty dress and the best of attitudes next weekend". He let go of your throat slowly, calmly placing his shirt properly "I know you'll make the best decision" he finally said.

Your eyes were fixed on him, confused at how easily he let you go. And, somehow, his words were even scarier than his actions, because you could see the threat through them.

The grand hall was filled with muted whispers and expectant gazes, the air thick with anticipation. The soft hum of violins played in the background, their melody delicate but almost haunting. The guests sat in rows beneath an arch of white roses and crystal chandeliers, their eyes flitting between the tall doors at the back of the aisle and Jungkook, who stood at the altar in his perfectly tailored black suit, waiting.

His fingers twitched at his sides as he stole a glance at the watch, sliding the sleeve of his jacket just a bit far up.

Ten minutes late. Then fifteen.

You weren't there.

He told himself you'd show up. You had to. But with each passing second, doubt sank its claws deeper into him. His heart pounded, and the polished facade he wore so well began to crack. Was this your way of backing out? A silent rebellion against a marriage neither of you had chosen? Were you actually telling the truth when you said you wouldn't show up if he didn't promise you a divorce?

The doors remained closed, and Jungkook's jaw tightened. His father, seated in the front row, shot him a warning glance -one that practically screamed "Handle this".

Then, just as his patience teetered on the edge of collapse, the heavy doors finally creaked open.

A hush fell over the crowd.

And there you were.

You stood at the entrance in your wedding dress, the long veil trailing behind you, catching the soft light like a halo. For a moment, the room seemed to blur around you, everything fading except the heavy thud of your heart. You could feel every eye on you, the weight of their expectations pressing down on your chest, stealing the breath from your lungs.

Your feet felt like concrete as you took your first step. Hesitation rooted itself deep inside you, your body caught in a battle between instinct and obligation.

Jungkook watched you with an intensity that bordered on desperation. His dark eyes flickered with a thousand questions. You couldn't miss the way his shoulders tensed or how his lips pressed into a thin line, betraying the fear he was trying so hard to conceal.

Step by step, you made your way down the aisle, but each step felt heavier than the last. Doubt whispered cruelly in your ear. "You don't have to do this" you told yourself.

Your fingers clutched the bouquet so tightly that your knuckles turned white. You forced yourself forward, your gaze fixed ahead, refusing to meet Jungkook's eyes until you stood just a breath away from him.

"Finally," Jungkook muttered under his breath, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

There was relief in his tone, but it was wrapped in a layer of frustration.

The officiant began to speak, his words echoing in the cavernous hall. You barely registered them, your mind a tangled mess of emotions. Jungkook's eyes never left yours. His expression was calm on the surface, but you could see the storm raging just beneath it: fear, frustration, and something dangerously close to longing.

"And now," the officiant said, his voice cutting through the fog in your mind, "if the bride and groom would like to exchange their vows."

Jungkook went first. His voice was steady, but the practiced words carried an unexpected weight, laced with sincerity that caught you off guard.

"I promise to protect you," he said, his gaze locking onto yours. "To stand beside you through whatever comes next. No matter what happens... I'm yours."

There was a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes -just a flash- but it was enough to send your heart lurching in your chest.

Then it was your turn. The officiant turned to you expectantly, waiting for your response.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came.

A heavy silence hung in the air. It stretched long enough to make the guests shift uncomfortably in their seats. Even the soft melody of the violins seemed to falter.

Everything you had prepared so mindfully disappeared at the feeling of being so watched, as if you were under watchful eye. You were sure it'd be obvious you weren't feeling either of the words you were pronouncing.

Jungkook's fingers curled slightly at his sides, his eyes searching yours for a sign, for anything.

The officiant cleared his throat. "Do you, Y/n, take Jeon Jungkook to be your lawfully wedded husband?" his tone was insistent, as if he wanted to get any words from you to get all of that over with.

The pause that followed was suffocating. You felt Jungkook's breath catch, his entire body coiled tight, ready to unravel.

Although he hoped you wouldn't humiliate him that way, he saw you completely able to do it.

Finally, you whispered the words.

"...I do."

Your voice was barely audible, a breath more than a declaration. But it was enough.

Jungkook exhaled, his shoulders relaxing, though the tension in his jaw remained. His eyes never left yours, dark and unreadable, as if trying to solve a puzzle with too many missing pieces.

The officiant smiled, oblivious to the war waging between the two of you. "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Jungkook hesitated, just for a heartbeat, before leaning in. Your head immediately threw back slightly, enough for him to know you didn't want that kiss and make it seem like a shy move for the rest of the assistants. His hand found your waist -firm but not forceful- as he tilted his head and pressed his lips to yours.

The kiss was brief, calculated for the audience, but the heat of it lingered far longer than it should have. Jungkook had been daydreaming way too long about it to waste that chance.

His lips were warm against yours, but there was something else beneath the surface. A question. A challenge.

When he pulled back, his eyes locked on yours once more. He didn't smile. Neither did you.

The applause from the crowd felt distant, like it belonged to another world entirely.

As the two of you turned to face the audience, Jungkook leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear.

"We're just getting started," he whispered, his voice dark with promise.

You kept your face neutral, your expression unreadable, but your pulse betrayed you, thudding wildly in your chest.

The reception was a spectacle of luxury and elegance, just as expected from a merger of two powerful families. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the grand hall, where hundreds of guests mingled, sipping champagne and exchanging polite congratulations.

You smiled and nodded your way through countless conversations, always keeping one eye on Jungkook. He was never far, and every time you saw him start toward you, you slipped between groups of guests or ducked behind another table.

You had managed to avoid him all night. At the cake-cutting ceremony, his hand had hovered near yours on the knife, holding tighter over your skin as you threatened to let the long sword slide from your fingers to his throat. And for a fleeting moment, you thought he might say something, yet he only smirked and moved closer to you. You were quick to turn away, disappearing into the crowd the moment the applause broke, trying to get away from him.

Jungkook, however, was nothing if not persistent.

The moment you saw him again, his dark eyes locked onto yours from across the dance floor. This time, there was no escape. The crowd parted just enough for him to make his way toward you, his strides deliberate and confident.

"Running from me again?" he said when he reached you, his voice low, a challenge glinting in his eyes.

You lifted your chin, forcing your expression to stay composed. "I wasn't running. I was... mingling with the guests."

His lips curled into a smirk. "Right. Mingling." he offered his hand, palm open and waiting. "Well, it's time for the first dance, Mrs. Jeon. You wouldn't want to disappoint our guests, would you?"

Your stomach tightened at the weight of his words. There was no getting out of this. Not without causing a scene.

With a quiet sigh, you slipped your hand into his. His fingers curled around yours, warm and firm, and you couldn't help but notice how easily they fit together.

The lights dimmed, and the soft melody of "You Are the Reason" by Calum Scott filled the air. A sweet, tender song -one that felt far too intimate for the situation, as if it was meant for two people who loved each other.

Jungkook led you to the center of the dance floor, his hand resting gently on your waist, pulling you just close enough to make your pulse stutter.

"I was starting to think you wouldn't show up today," he said softly, his voice barely audible over the music. His eyes searched yours, the teasing edge gone now, replaced by something far more serious. "You made me worried."

You swallowed, your gaze dropping for a split second before meeting his again. "I was... thinking things through."

His hand tightened slightly on your waist. "Did you change your mind at the last minute?"

For a moment, you didn't answer. The question hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. The song swelled around you, the lyrics wrapping around your heart like a bittersweet lullaby.

You knew hell would be nothing compared to your life if you didn't show up to the wedding. Not because of Jungkook or his family though, but your adoptive parents. The moment you twisted all of their plans, there would be no escape from it.

At least with Jungkook you wouldn't owe anyone anything. Instead, you'd be the one they owe something to.

Jungkook's eyes softened, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "If you had, I would've waited. I would've found another way."

Your breath hitched. His words caught you off guard -unexpected and disarming. For the first time that night, the wall you had so carefully built around yourself began to crack.

He seemed so genuine, so caring.

"I'm here now," you said, your voice steadier than you felt. "That's all that matters."

His gaze lingered on you for a long moment before he nodded. "Yeah. You're here."

The music continued, the world around you fading as you moved together in perfect synchrony. His touch was light yet grounding, his eyes never leaving yours.

For a fleeting second, you forgot about the crowd, the expectations, the tangled mess of your circumstances. It was just the two of you, swaying gently beneath the chandeliers, the lyrics of the song weaving a story neither of you was ready to admit aloud.

As the final notes faded, Jungkook leaned in just slightly, his voice a soft murmur against your ear.

"You can keep running all you want," he said, his breath warm on your skin. "But sooner or later, you'll stop. And when you do... I'll be right here, waiting."

You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. There was no smirk, no mask, just him.

The applause from the crowd broke the spell, and you quickly stepped back, your heart thudding painfully in your chest. Jungkook let you go, but his eyes stayed on you, dark and unreadable, as if daring you to run again.

And maybe you would. But for the first time, a small part of you wondered if running was really what you wanted. No, you stayed by his side, answering to his challenge with the same power he was showing off.

The party blurred into a collection of clinking glasses, polite congratulations, and watchful eyes. Despite the sea of guests surrounding you, you felt like you were holding your breath the entire time. So when Jungkook leaned close and whispered, "Let's get out of here," you didn't argue. If he hadn't said it, you probably would've escaped by yourself.

Now, the two of you sat in the back of a sleek black car, the hum of the city filling the silence between you. The driver navigated the streets with ease, the warm glow of streetlights flashing across the car's interior.

Jungkook sat beside you, his posture relaxed, but his eyes kept drifting toward your hand -the wedding ring glinting softly on your finger. He didn't bother hiding the fact that he was staring.

You caught him once, raising an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"

His gaze flicked up to meet yours, and for a second, something unreadable flashed across his face. "No," he said quietly. "Just getting used to the sight."

You turned your hand slightly, the light catching on the diamond. The ring was beautiful, of course -a complex design that was probably picked out by your parents and Jungkook's father rather than by either of you. It felt foreign on your finger, a constant reminder of the deal you'd made.

Jungkook's lips twitched into something that wasn't quite a smile. "It suits you," he said, his voice soft, almost contemplative.

You said nothing, turning your head to watch the city rush by through the window. Jungkook simply smirked, knowing that your silence was better than a sassy response from you.

When the car finally pulled up to the luxury hotel, you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. The driver opened the door, and you stepped out, feeling the cool night air brush against your skin. Jungkook followed close behind, his hand hovering near the small of your back but never quite touching.

The suite was exactly what you expected -grand and luxurious, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a stunning view of the Brandenburg Gate. A bottle of champagne and a tray of chocolates waited on the marble table, while a large king-sized bed sat at the center of the room, draped in crisp white linens.

You set your bag down and turned to Jungkook, folding your arms across your chest. "I'll take the bed. You can sleep on the couch."

His eyebrows lifted slightly, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "The couch?"

"It's comfortable enough," you said, nodding toward the plush, oversized sofa near the window. "Plenty of space."

Jungkook took a step closer, his expression unreadable. "We're married now, remember? Sharing the bed won't kill us."

You scoffed lightly, crossing the room to stand by the couch. "Not happening." You glanced back at him, raising an eyebrow. "Fine. You take the bed. I'll sleep here." you rushed to say, feeling your energy consumed by the small talk you made with all the guests.

"No." his response was immediate, his tone firm. "You're not sleeping on the couch."

"Then am I sleeping on the floor?" you arched an eyebrow "Because I won't sleep with you in the same bed".

You stared at him, daring him to argue further. But to your surprise, he sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "Alright. I'll sleep on the couch."

His sudden surrender caught you off guard. "Just like that?"

He smirked faintly, tossing his jacket onto a chair. "I'm not going to win this argument, am I?"

You watched him for a moment, suspicious of how easily he gave in, but ultimately decided not to push it. "Good. I'll get ready for bed."

As you disappeared into the bathroom, Jungkook sank onto the couch, leaning his head back against the cushions. He glanced at the wedding ring on his own hand, turning it slowly between his fingers. For all his confidence and charm, there was something strangely grounding about the weight of the band.

As much as that wasn't the way he wanted you to be by his side, it somehow made him feel good.

When you returned, dressed in something far more comfortable than your wedding gown, Jungkook was already stretched out on the couch, one arm draped over his eyes.

"Comfortable?" you asked, standing by the bed.

He peeked at you from beneath his arm, his lips quivering into a faint smile. "I've had worse."

You rolled your eyes and climbed into bed, pulling the blankets up around you. For a few moments, silence filled the room, the only sound the soft hum of the city outside the windows.

Just as your eyes started to drift closed, you heard Jungkook's voice -quiet but clear in the darkness.

"Goodnight, Y/n."

You hesitated before responding, your voice soft. "Goodnight, Jungkook."

Neither of you said anything after that, but sleep didn't come easily. You lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling, painfully aware of his presence just a few feet away.

The distance between you felt both vast and dangerously fragile. And as the minutes stretched into hours, you couldn't help but wonder how long it would stay that way.

The morning started quietly -too quietly. You woke up, blinking against the soft morning light spilling into the room, only to find Jungkook already sitting on the couch, his phone in hand. His jacket was gone, and his dress shirt, slightly wrinkled from the night before, was unbuttoned at the collar. He looked far too relaxed for someone who had spent the night on a couch after your wedding.

"Good morning," he said, his eyes flicking to yours the second you stirred. His voice was calm, but there was something smug lurking just beneath the surface, as if he was already one step ahead of you.

You rubbed your eyes, forcing yourself to sound composed. "Morning."

A few beats of silence passed, too long to be comfortable.

"You were tossing and turning last night," Jungkook said casually, stretching his arms behind his head. "Couldn't sleep?"

"I slept just fine," you lied, standing and heading for your bag. You could feel his eyes on your every move, sharp and assessing.

"You sure? You sounded restless." his voice was smooth, laced with amusement.

You froze, giving him a flat look. "Were you listening to me sleep?"

He grinned, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "It's hard not to when someone mutters 'This is a mistake' at 2 a.m."

Your face heated. "I did not..."

"You did." his smirk widened. "I thought about waking you up to ask what you meant, but I figured I'd let you dream about it instead."

You crossed your arms, your patience wearing thin. "Thanks for your consideration, Jungkook."

"Anything for you, love," he said, drawing out the word with deliberate sarcasm.

"You've really mastered being annoying, haven't you?" you shot back, heading toward the closet.

"Years of practice," he said, standing up and stretching, his shirt riding up just enough to reveal a sliver of skin. "You'll get used to it."

You rolled your eyes, yanking open your suitcase with unnecessary force. "God forbid."

Jungkook chuckled under his breath, walking over to lean casually against the wall beside you. "You can deny it all you want, but deep down, you like this."

You turned to glare at him. "Like what?"

"This," he said, gesturing between the two of you. "The bickering. The back-and-forth. Admit it, it's fun."

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. "Jungkook, not everything is a game. And if you think this -whatever this is- counts as fun, then we're going to have a very long, very difficult marriage."

He tilted his head, pretending to think. "A long marriage... Sounds like you're planning to stick around. It does sound really good to me."

"Oh my god," you muttered, turning on your heel. "I can't do this right now."

You stalked toward the bathroom, determined to get a moment's peace.

"You're already giving up?" he called after you. "We've been married for less than 24 hours, Y/n!"

"I'm not giving up. I'm taking a shower," you snapped, slamming the bathroom door shut.

The water was a relief, washing away some of the tension, but your frustration lingered like a storm cloud. And then, halfway through shampooing your hair, you realized something.

You forgot to bring clothes.

You let out a frustrated groan, rinsing the shampoo quickly before wrapping yourself in a towel. The last thing you wanted was to ask Jungkook for help, so you cracked the door open and peeked out.

He was still there, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, clearly waiting for your return like some smug predator.

Of course.

You squared your shoulders and stepped out, keeping your head high as you made your way toward the bag.

Jungkook's eyes found you immediately, sweeping over your damp hair and the towel wrapped tightly around you. He didn't even try to hide it.

"Forgot something?" his voice was low and teasing.

"Not a word," you warned, grabbing your clothes.

But before you could escape back to the bathroom, his hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. His fingers were warm, firm, and far too steady for someone who was enjoying this way too much.

"Why bother going back?" he said softly, his voice dropping into that dangerously calm tone that always made your pulse race. "You're already here."

You tightened your grip on your towel. "Let me go, Jungkook."

His eyes darkened, his thumb brushing against your wrist in a slow, deliberate motion. "Why? What's the big deal? We're married now, remember?"

Your breath caught, but you forced your voice to stay steady. "I'm not afraid of you, if that's what you're thinking."

He leaned in just slightly, his lips curving into a smirk. "Then prove it. Get changed right here." His gaze dropped for a split second before meeting yours again, his voice barely a whisper. "Unless you're shy."

Your heart thundered in your chest, heat rushing to your face. "I'm not shy."

You weren't shy, but you didn't like the way your body was reacting to his voice, to his petition and his proximity. And you certainly didn't want him to see it so clearly either.

"Then go ahead," he said, his voice practically daring you.

You glared at him, yanking your wrist free. "Turn around."

"I'm not turning around" he sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. "What's the fun of it if I can't see you?"

He was trying to intimidate you, challenge you to do something he thought you wouldn't dare to do, so he could then tease you about it.

Two could play that game.

You placed the clothes on the bed, next to where he was. Taking one step back, your hands were placed on both edges of the towel, slowly undoing the knot to let it pool at your feet. Jungkook gulped thick at the sight, not expecting you to actually get naked in front of him, and even less that way, and it gave you a pinch of pride at how nervous he looked for a second.

You didn't need to do anything, just that stare and the sight of your body alone was enough to awaken the most primal needs. His body responded to you, even if it had been just a second he saw you. Your humid skin, the way some drops fell from your hair and rolled down the curve of your breast to get to your hardened nipple. His mouth was watering just with the need of tasting you.

Jungkook blinked, confused at the way your hand was stretched out for him, "The panties" you mentioned as if it were obvious.

His hand moved to his left, grabbing the fabric to hand it out to you. You put them on torturously slow, covering your lower half to snap your fingers and asking him for your bra. Placing the strips on your shoulders, you turned to him, your body fitting perfectly in between his semi-parted legs as you silently asked him to tie the clasp.

Shivers ran through your body at the contact of the reverse of his fingers on your skin, his touch holding on longer than necessary, just because he liked the way you felt as he touched you a little bit too much.

You didn't need to ask, because Jungkook moved to the next item the moment you stepped away.

He should've seen it coming for him when he saw you lifting your feet, placing it on his thigh -way too close to a place where he needed you like crazy. Your fingers moved calmly, sliding the tight over your leg, up the curve of your knee, moving it past your thigh. Yet Jungkook could only focus on how your warmth spread over his skin like wildfire, making him feel you were touching him in places you were not.

When you finally stepped back to put on the other side of the tight, and the rest of clothes, Jungkook felt like he could breathe again, his control coming back to him when he was able to think straight -which also happened when you were fully clothed again.

You thought he'd hesitate or act shy, but instead his cocky attitude came back as he stood up, the height difference becoming obvious again as he towered over you.

"See how it isn't that difficult to be a good girl?" he muttered, just loud enough for you to hear.

You'd have thrown a shoe at him if he hadn't hidden inside the bathroom immediately after airing out that response.

He was insufferable.

The car ride to Jungkook's house was quiet, tense, and far too long for your liking. The morning sun bathed the streets in gold, but it did nothing to lighten the atmosphere inside the vehicle. Jungkook sat beside you, one arm draped lazily across the back of the seat, his eyes occasionally drifting toward you as you stared resolutely out the window.

He had been surprisingly well-behaved since the towel incident, keeping his teasing remarks to a minimum -though his occasional glances were enough to keep you on edge.

When the car finally pulled up in front of his house, your eyes widened slightly. House was an understatement. It was a sprawling modern estate with sleek glass panels, sharp architectural lines, and an air of quiet luxury.

"Home sweet home," Jungkook said, stepping out of the car and holding the door open for you with a half-smirk.

You stepped out, clutching your overnight bag tightly. "Big enough so we won't have to see each other for a whole day"

"Thanks for noticing," he quipped. "Come on. I'll give you the grand tour."

You followed him up the steps, trying not to be too impressed as you took in the pristine interior-marble floors, minimalist décor, and massive windows that flooded the space with light.

"Kitchen's over there," Jungkook said, gesturing toward an open-concept area with gleaming countertops. "Dining room, living room... you know, standard rich-guy stuff."

"Right," you said dryly. "Because this is completely normal."

He glanced back at you with a grin. "You'll get used to it." the mockery on his tone, knowing damn too well you were used to all that luxury and more, shouldn't have been as funny as it seemed for you.

You rolled your eyes, walking a little faster to avoid his gaze. The tension from earlier was still there, simmering just beneath the surface, but it was muted now, replaced by an odd sense of anticipation.

"Upstairs," Jungkook said, leading you to the second floor. You followed him down a hallway lined with modern artwork and huge windows, your footsteps echoing softly on the hardwood floors.

He stopped in front of a door near the end of the hallway and turned to you. "This is your room."

You blinked, caught off guard. "My... room?"

Jungkook nodded, his expression unreadable. "I figured you'd want your own space."

Your hand tightened around the strap of your bag. For a moment, you didn't know what to say. You had fully expected him to make some smug comment about sharing a bed -or worse, insist on it. But there he was, offering you something you hadn't dared to hope for: distance.

"Thanks," you said quietly, stepping into the room. It was beautiful -spacious, with a king-sized bed, soft cream-colored walls, and a large window that overlooked the shared garden of the building. There was even an en-suite bathroom with a walk-in shower and a deep soaking tub.

You indeed wouldn't need to get out there, except to eat.

"Your things are in the closet" he started. "You didn't bring a lot of things, so I guess you'll bring the rest later?"

"No, that's it" you whispered.

Jungkook stopped for a second, shocked about the fact that you only brought a medium suitcase and the bag you were carrying to pack up all of your things. It wasn't like he was expecting a full suitcase display from you, but certainly not something so minimal.

"I'll be down the hall if you need anything," Jungkook said, lingering in the doorway. His eyes softened, his earlier bravado fading just a little. "Seriously. Anything."

For a brief second, the air between you shifted. He wasn't teasing or smug. He just looked... sincere.

You hesitated, feeling the strange urge to say something more, but the words caught in your throat. Instead, you gave him a small nod. "I'll be fine."

He smiled faintly, stepping back. "Alright. Settle in. I'll see you downstairs."

As he walked away, you closed the door and leaned against it, exhaling slowly.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

But then again, with Jungkook, nothing ever stayed calm for long.

The first month of marriage was nothing short of a battlefield.

It didn't take long for every small interaction to turn into a heated argument. Jungkook always had something to say -sharp and sarcastic, ready to push your buttons at every opportunity. You were no better, meeting his smug remarks with icy glares and curt responses. It became a game, a war of words and wills, with neither of you willing to surrender.

There were good moments, but they were fleeting. It started with you finding out Jungkook filled up your closet with different clothes and accessories, adding up to the small suitcase you first brought. And it slowly evolved into a laugh shared over breakfast when Jungkook nearly burned his toast. A surprisingly comfortable evening spent watching a movie in silence, where the tension seemed to ease just a little. But those moments were always overshadowed by the endless tug-of-war that followed.

It was exhausting, that constant dance of hostility and fleeting truce.

Every day felt like a test of who could push the other further without breaking. The house, despite its size, felt stifling. His presence lingered in every room -a constant reminder that your marriage was nothing more than a cage disguised as luxury.

And today, you'd had enough.

The argument started in the kitchen that morning, over something as trivial as a set of misplaced car keys. It escalated far too quickly, voices rising, accusations flying.

"You always think you can control everything," you snapped, crossing your arms.

Jungkook leaned against the counter, his jaw tightening. "Control? I'm trying to help you, but you treat everything I say like it's some personal attack."

"Because it always is!" you threw up your hands in frustration. "You don't know how to back off, Jungkook! You just keep pushing and pushing... Fuck, you don't let me breathe!"

"Maybe because you keep running away instead of facing things!" his voice dropped, low and sharp. "You're so obsessed with shutting me out that you can't even see when someone's trying to meet you halfway."

You stared at him, chest heaving, words caught in your throat. For a second, neither of you moved. The silence felt heavier than the argument itself.

Then, without a word, you turned on your heel and stormed upstairs. You needed air, space, anything to escape that suffocating cycle.

In your room, you grabbed a coat and your purse, your hands trembling with frustration. Your eyes caught on your wedding ring, glinting in the sunlight. The sight of it only fueled the fire burning in your chest.

You slipped it off, the cool metal unfamiliar without the warmth of your skin beneath it. For a moment, you stared at the ring in your palm, your thoughts a chaotic swirl of emotions.

Then you set it on the dresser and walked out of the room, not bothering to look back.

Jungkook was still in the kitchen when you came back down, his back to you. You didn't say a word as you grabbed your keys from the counter and headed for the front door.

The sound of your footsteps must have caught his attention because he turned around, his eyes narrowing. "Where are you going?"

"Out," you said shortly, not slowing down.

"Without your ring?" his voice was calm, too calm. It sent a shiver down your spine.

You paused, hand on the door handle, refusing to turn around. "I need some time alone."

"And you think taking off your ring is the way to do that?" his footsteps echoed behind you, slow and deliberate. "Is this your idea of freedom?"

You finally turned to face him, meeting his eyes head-on. "What does it matter? It's not like this marriage is real anyway."

The words hung in the air, heavy and final.

For the first time in weeks, Jungkook didn't have a quick response. He just looked at you, his jaw clenched, his eyes dark with something you couldn't quite place -hurt, maybe, or anger, or both.

"If you walk out that door without it," he said quietly, "don't expect me to come looking for you."

The threat was clear, but it only made your resolve stronger.

"Good," you said, voice steady. "That's exactly what I want."

And with that, you opened the door and stepped outside, the cool air hitting your face like a slap.

As you walked toward your car, your heart pounded in your chest. Part of you expected him to follow, to stop you. But when you glanced back, the door was already closed.

Maybe he didn't care enough to stop you after all. Although you wouldn't think too much about it. The more he ignored you, the more freedom you'd have.

The bar was harmonized with a low hum of conversation and soft music filling the air. You had no plan when you walked in -just an overwhelming need to be anywhere but at that house. You found a spot at the bar, ordering a drink and savoring the temporary escape it promised.

The alcohol warmed your throat and dulled the frustration swirling in your chest. One drink turned into two, and for the first time in weeks, you felt like you could breathe again.

"You look like you could use some company."

You glanced up to see a man standing beside you, his smile easy and confident. His eyes lingered on you just a little too long.

"Not really," you said, turning back to your drink.

"Come on, don't be like that," he said, leaning in closer. "It's just a conversation. You shouldn't be alone in a place like this."

"I'm fine," you insisted, but he didn't seem to get the hint.

The air shifted before you could say anything else, a new presence filling the space behind you.

"She's not alone."

You froze at the familiar voice, low and commanding. Turning slightly, you found yourself face-to-face with Jungkook. His dark eyes were locked on the man, his jaw tight, his entire body radiating quiet danger.

The man raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "And who are you?"

Jungkook's lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. "Her husband."

The word hung in the air like a gunshot, silencing everything around you.

The man's eyes flicked between the two of you, suddenly less confident. "Right... well, my mistake." he backed away with a muttered apology, disappearing into the crowd.

Your heart was pounding, though you weren't sure if it was from the alcohol or the way Jungkook's eyes hadn't left you once.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, trying to sound unaffected.

"I could ask you the same thing," he said, his voice calm but laced with barely restrained frustration. "But I guess taking off your ring and disappearing without a word answers that for me."

"I needed space," you said, crossing your arms. "You don't own me, Jungkook."

His eyes darkened. "You're right. I don't. But I'm still your husband. If you disappear in the middle of the night, I'll come looking for you. And if some creep thinks he can hit on you, then I'm going to do something about it."

You rolled your eyes, the alcohol emboldening you. "So this is about your ego?"

He took a step closer, the tension crackling between you. "No. It's about the fact that I care, whether you want to believe it or not."

His words caught you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless.

"Let's go," he said, his tone softening just a fraction. "It's late."

"I'm not going anywhere," you said stubbornly, turning back toward the bar.

Jungkook let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. "Fine. You want to be difficult? Have it your way."

Before you could react, his arm looped around your waist, and in one swift motion, he threw you over his shoulder like it was the easiest thing in the world.

"Jungkook!" you gasped, pounding your fists against his back. "Put me down!"

"Not a chance," he muttered, already weaving his way through the crowd. Heads turned, curious eyes following the scene as you squirmed in his grip. "You brought this on yourself."

"Jungkook, I swear to God..."

"You can yell all you want," he said calmly. "We're leaving."

Once outside, the cool night air hit you like a slap, but it did little to cool the heat rising in your cheeks -from anger or embarrassment, you weren't sure. Jungkook carried you all the way to his car, finally setting you down beside it.

"You're insane," you snapped, your breath coming fast as you straightened your clothes.

"Maybe," he said, stepping closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "I thought you'd have learned to love it by now."

For a moment, you stood there, caught in a standoff.

"Get in the car," he said softly, but there was no mistaking the authority in his voice.

Your pride told you to refuse, to stand your ground and make this even more difficult. But something about the intensity in his eyes made you falter.

Wordlessly, you opened the car door and got in, your pulse still racing.

Jungkook slid into the driver's seat, starting the car without another word. The ride home was silent, the air between you charged with tension. You could feel his occasional glances, the way his hands tightened around the steering wheel every time your bare finger caught the light.

The ride home was silent. He didn't speak, and neither did you. But the weight of everything unsaid filled the car, pressing down on you both.

When you pulled up in front of the building, Jungkook finally broke the silence.

"I'm not going to pretend I know what you're thinking," he said, his voice low. "But if you want to leave, really leave, just say it. I'll let you go."

You turned to look at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his eyes. It was the first time you'd seen him drop his guard like this.

But instead of answering, you opened the door and stepped out, your heart pounding in your chest.

Jungkook stayed in the car for a moment before following you inside. Neither of you said a word as you climbed the stairs, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

When you reached your room, you paused in the doorway, glancing back at him.

"Goodnight," you said softly, your voice barely audible.

For once, Jungkook didn't have a clever comeback. He just nodded, his eyes lingering on you a little longer than they should have.

"Goodnight," he echoed, his voice rough around the edges.

As you closed the door behind you, you couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between you -something neither of you was ready to admit yet.

The tension between you and Jungkook had been palpable since that night. Every word, every glance, felt like a battle -a silent war that neither of you was willing to lose. And just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, you found yourself trapped at one of his company's lavish parties, drowning in champagne and meaningless small talk.

It wasn't your kind of crowd. Polished executives and their equally polished partners swirled around you, exchanging pleasantries and hollow laughs. Being the accessory of the main character of the party wasn't your thing at all. You stood near the bar, sipping your drink, counting down the minutes until you could escape.

That's when you saw him, Jungkook, standing at the center of a group of people, commanding their attention with ease. He was dressed in a sharp black suit, his hair perfectly styled, exuding the kind of confidence that made it impossible to look away.

And then you noticed her.

She was standing beside him, too close, her hand resting lightly on his arm as she laughed at something he said. A striking woman in a sleek red dress, her eyes sparkled with something far more than professional interest.

Your grip on your glass tightened as you watched her lean in, whispering something into his ear. To your horror, Jungkook didn't pull away. Instead, he turned toward her with a slow smile, his eyes dropping deliberately to her lips before meeting hers again.

It was a calculated move -one meant for your benefit. You knew it. He knew it.

Your stomach twisted, a mix of anger and something far more dangerous bubbling in your chest. But you refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Not here. Not in front of everyone.

You turned your back to him, willing yourself to focus on the conversation happening nearby. It was meaningless chatter, something about stock prices, but you latched onto it, pretending you didn't notice the way your pulse was racing.

"Jealous, love?"

The voice was low and teasing, right behind you. You didn't need to turn to know who it was.

"Hardly," you said, taking a sip of your drink without looking at him. "Do what you want. I couldn't care less."

"Is that so?" Jungkook stepped into your line of vision, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Because it looked like you were about two seconds away from throwing your drink at her."

"More like two seconds away from smacking this glass on your head" you finally sentenced.

"That does sound like someone who's jealous"

You forced a smile, meeting his gaze head-on. "Please. If I wanted to make a scene, you'd know it."

Jungkook chuckled, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper meant only for you. "Careful, Y/n. You might give me the wrong idea: that you actually care about me and what I do."

Your pulse jumped, but you refused to let him win. "Trust me, I don't." you narrowed your eyes while looking at him "Just be careful of how you behave in front of everyone. We're still married. In private, do whatever the fuck you please".

His smile was slow, almost predatory. "Good. Because I'd hate for you to get hurt playing a game you can't win."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, breathless and furious.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. You couldn't stop watching him: laughing, smiling, always with her by his side. Each glance felt like a deliberate push, a challenge to see how far you'd let him go.

By the time the party started winding down, you'd had enough. You grabbed your purse and made your way toward the exit, your steps quick and determined.

But before you could leave, a hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

"Running away again?" Jungkook's voice was calm, but his grip was firm.

"Let go," you said, your voice low and dangerous.

"Not until you admit it." His eyes locked onto yours, the amusement gone, replaced by something far more serious.

"Admit what?"

"That you care," he said simply.

You yanked your wrist free, your eyes burning with fury. "You're unbelievable."

"And yet, here you are," Jungkook said softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "Still standing in front of me". You didn't know when he stepped so close that your chests were pressed together and your breaths were mixing between you two "I'm only yours, love. You just need to ask me, and I'll declare to you my love without thinking twice".

For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade, the party noise a distant hum. You hated how close he was, how easily he could get under your skin.

But you refused to give him what he wanted. Not tonight.

Without another word, you turned and walked away, ignoring the way your heart was pounding in your chest.

The car ride back was suffocatingly quiet. The air between you felt like a loaded gun, ready to go off at the slightest provocation. Jungkook's hands rested on the steering wheel, his jaw clenched, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. You sat stiffly in the passenger seat, arms crossed, staring out the window in stubborn silence.

The tires crunched on the gravel as the car came to a stop in front of the building. You didn't wait for him to say anything -didn't even glance his way as you pushed the door open and strode toward the front entrance.

But the sound of his footsteps trailing behind you, steady and deliberate, made your pulse quicken.

You barely made it inside when Jungkook's voice cut through the silence.

"Care to explain what that little stunt at the party was all about?" his tone was deceptively calm, but the underlying tension was unmistakable.

You spun around, glaring at him. "Are you seriously accusing me of something after what you pulled tonight? Flirting with her right in front of me?"

Jungkook smirked, stepping closer. "You noticed."

"Of course I noticed!" you snapped, your voice rising. "You made sure I would."

He shrugged, his eyes gleaming with something dangerous. "Maybe. But you didn't have to leave the party like that, running off again like you always do. It's getting old, Y/n."

"Maybe it's because I can't stand being around you," you shot back, your voice trembling slightly with the force of your anger. "Did you think of that?"

Jungkook tilted his head, studying you. "No," he said quietly, stepping even closer until there was barely any space between you. "I think you left because it bothered you. Because for once, you didn't have control, and it drove you crazy."

Your breath hitched, but you refused to back down. "You think too highly of yourself."

"Do I?" his voice was a whisper now, low and deliberate, each word wrapping around you like a challenge. "Then why are you shaking?"

You hated him for being right. Hated how easily he could strip away every layer of defense you had built.

"I'm not..."

"You are," he interrupted, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "And it's not because you're angry. It's because you feel something."

You opened your mouth to protest, but no words came out.

His eyes dropped to your lips for the briefest moment before locking onto yours again. "Tell me I'm wrong, and I'll back off," he said softly. "Tell me you don't feel anything, and I'll stop."

You stared at him, your heart pounding so hard it was almost painful.

But you couldn't say it.

The words wouldn't come.

Jungkook's smile was slow and triumphant. "That's what I thought."

He turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, breathless and furious, your skin still burning from his touch.

"You're insufferable," you called after him, but your voice wavered, the heat of your frustration blending with something far more dangerous.

Jungkook stopped mid-step, his back still to you. For a split second, you thought he'd ignore you, that he'd let you stew in your own whirlwind of emotions.

But then he turned, slow and deliberate, his dark eyes locking onto yours like a predator sizing up its prey. His steps were measured, each one bringing him closer, the air between you thick with electricity.

"You know what's really insufferable?" his voice was low, almost a growl. "The way you keep running. The way you keep fighting me when we both know exactly how this will end."

Your breath caught in your throat as he came to a stop just inches from you, his body radiating warmth, his presence overwhelming.

"I'm not running," you said, though it sounded more like a whisper than the firm declaration you intended.

His hand reached out, fingers brushing against your jaw, tilting your face up toward him. His touch was light, almost teasing, but it sent a jolt of heat racing through you.

The space between you disappeared in a heartbeat. His lips crashed against yours, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis. The kiss was anything but gentle -wild, desperate, and filled with every bit of frustration and desire that had built up between you.

Your hands found their way to his chest, clutching the fabric of his shirt as if it were the only thing grounding you. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you flush against him, his grip possessive and unrelenting.

It felt better than anything neither of you could've ever imagined. It wasn't just a kiss -it was a battle, a collision of everything you didn't say, everything you'd tried to ignore.

His lips moved against yours with an urgency that made your head spin, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before deepening the kiss. You gasped when he sank his tongue in your mouth, quickly meeting yours at the same time he cornered you on the wall next to the door, his hand gently cupping the back of your head before moving it back to your neck.

You hated him for making you feel this way, for always knowing how to push you to the edge and catch you before you fell.

But at that moment, you couldn't bring yourself to care.

When you finally pulled back, your breaths were ragged, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes searched yours, dark and unreadable, his chest rising and falling in time with yours.

"Say it," Jungkook whispered, his voice rough and breathless. "Say you don't feel anything."

You stayed silent, your lips still tingling from his kiss.

But the way your hands lingered on his chest, the way your body leaned into his, spoke louder than any words ever could.

He took your silence as the perfect answer, smirking to himself before he linked your lips together again. His fingers sank in your hair at the back of your head, twirling them on some locks to pull from them and throw your head to the side as he kissed you down your neck.

"You're absolutely everything I've ever fucking dreamed of" he heavily whispered on your skin. "I want to admire you, worship your body and make love to you so you'd meet a devotion you had never seen in your life. But hell... when you look at me that way..." his thumb brushed over your cheekbone "I want to ruin you so bad, show you no one will fuck you so good to make your ears beep so loud you won't be hearing your own pleas when you ask me to stop".

Your kiss grew more passionate, your breaths coming in ragged gasps, when he kissed you again. His hands began to wander, tracing the curve of your back, the swell of your hips. You could feel the hardness of his body against yours, and it sent a thrill through you, craving for something you didn't know you were desperate for. You moaned softly into his mouth, pressing yourself against him, at the same time his hands held your hips to keep your body glued to him.

Jungkook broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck again, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. You arched my back, a soft sigh escaping your lips, when his fingers brushed against the little skin that was shown off through the cleavage of your dress. It frustrated you, but it also felt so good the way your body responded to his touch without a resistance, your nipples hardening against the fabric of your bra, your entrance clenching around nothing as you kept waiting to feel him inside you.

When he looked down at you once again, his hands moved down to the zip of your dress, his thumb brushing on your skin while his other fingers slid the material down. He didn't need to ask you, he didn't need to tell you, you helped him take off your dress.

His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, his breath hitching. You were definitely better than he could've ever imagined. No light pajamas would ever compare to the vision in front of him.

You reached for the hem of his black shirt, pulling from the buttons to reveal his toned chest. Jungkook had to hold back the growl in his throat when you ran your fingers over the muscles, feeling the heat of his skin, making him sure your fingerprints were burning every inch you were moving through.

He wasn't going to let you take control so easily though.

He lowered his head all of a sudden, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth through the lace of your bra. You gasped, your hands fisting in his hair as a way to control your own self. He teased and suckled, his other hand cupping your breast before he dragged his fingers down with the fabric, exposing the flesh, his thumb rubbing against your nipple before he pinched it with his index. You could feel the wetness pooling between your legs, your body aching for more.

Jungkook slipped the straps of your bra off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. He took his time, exploring every inch of your body with his mouth and hands. He made you squirm beneath him, he filled your head with pleas you never thought would ever be aimed at him, your body was on fire for him.

You reached for his belt, unbuckling it slowly. He lifted his hips to help you, his jeans and boxers coming off in one swift motion. You looked down at him, your eyes widening at the sight of his hard length. He was thick and long, the tip glistening with pre-cum. You licked your lips when a sudden urge to taste him overwhelmed you. Was it how sexy he actually was? Or how bad you wanted him to beg for you and finally accept you were in control? Maybe both?

You leaned down on your knees, not wasting a moment before taking him into your mouth. He groaned, his hands tangling in your hair as your tongue swirled around him. You sucked and licked, your head bobbing up and down at a tortuous speed. You could feel him getting harder, his hips thrusting gently. You took him deeper when he pushed you lower, your nose brushing against his skin to look up to him.

And hell, if that image wasn't the best sight ever...

He pulled you up with one swift motion, your lips still parted to the size of his length when he crashed his lips against yours again. Your back slammed against the door, and your head banged against it the moment he pulled your panties down and slid two fingers in you. His thumb brushed over your clit gently, slowly, which was opposite to the way his curved digits moved and rubbed against your walls.

He earned another moan from you, and his cock twitched in the air against your body once more.

"Who do you belong to, Y/n? Who owns you now?" his voice was thick and raspy as he whispered. His voice was a mix of cockiness and need to prove you always belonged to him.

The moment you tried to move your head forward to rest on his shoulder, his fingers wrapped around your throat and stuck your head against the wood to keep your eyes fixed on him.

You didn't know what to do with your arms, how to keep yourself on your feet, but you did know you had to keep your eyes fixed on him.

"My love" he almost sang when he felt the way your walls clenched around him and your clit throbbing "I've only been yours" his digits squeezed your throat tighter, unaware of how that dragged you closer to your orgasm.

Your body squirmed and folded under his grip when that hurricane hit you, yet he didn't stop. His movements were more delicate and slower, but he fingered you through your orgasm until he felt your breathing settling again.

Your lips were parted when his wet fingers slid through them, and you blindly obeyed, closing your mouth around his digits to lick every drop of his work of art. Jungkook barely gave you time to let go of them before his lips crashed against yours again, his tongue looking out for yours to taste you directly on it.

You were so addictive.

Jungkook picked you up effortlessly, humming at your legs wrapping around his waist, as he made his way to his bedroom.

When he let you down on his mattress, he couldn't help but admire the way your naked skin stood out so clearly while lying over his sheets, dying to twirl his fingers on those locks spread over his pillow. You brought in him a feral attitude he didn't know was so strong.

You looked up to him, eager for what was to come, your body ready to jump as he kneeled on the bed and crawled to you. His hands parted your legs easily, resting your calves on his thighs when he redirected his length to you.

He rubbed the head of his cock against your clit, making your moan. "You're so wet," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "Will you let me fill you up? Hmm?" he looked up to you while still rubbing himself against you "Let me mark you now that you've finally accepted that you're mine".

His words, the idea, the look in his eyes... all of them influenced you to finally nod.

He slid into you slowly, his eyes locked on yours. You gasped, your body stretching to accommodate him. He felt big, bigger than you could've guessed when you took him in your mouth. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, until your hips met and you both moaned with relief.

You stayed like that for a few seconds, giving the two of you time to get used to each other before he began to move, his hips thrusting against yours. The sound of your bodies coming together filled the room, your moans and gasps echoing around you. You could feel every inch of him, the sensation overwhelming.

"You feel so good," he groaned, his forehead resting against yours. "So tight and wet." he rubbed his nose on yours. "It was really worth it to wait for you".

You clung to him, your nails digging into his back. "Harder," you whispered, your body aching for more.

He obliged, his thrusts becoming faster and deeper. The bed creaked beneath you, the sound of your bodies slapping together filling the room. You could feel your orgasm building, your body tensing in anticipation.

He reached between you, his fingers finding your clit at the same time his lips found your mouth. He rubbed it in time with his thrusts, sending you spiraling over the edge. You cried out, your body convulsing around him as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

He continued to move, his own body tensing as he chased his own release. You felt him getting harder, his thrusts becoming more erratic. With a final thrust, he groaned, his body shaking as he came deep inside you, his load hitting a deep spot.

You lay there for a moment, your bodies slick with sweat, your breaths ragged. He rolled off you, pulling you into his arms. And as much as that feeling felt foreign, you didn't push it away. Instead, you snuggled closer to him.

The weeks after that night were nothing like the stormy start of your marriage. Slowly, without even realizing it, you began to lower your defenses. Jungkook softened in his own way, his sharp-edged words losing their sting, replaced by warm glances and lingering touches.

It wasn't love -at least, that's what you told yourself- but it was something dangerously close. You found comfort in his presence, in the late-night conversations you shared after you agreed on sharing bed with him, the stolen moments of laughter, and the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the world when he looked at you.

The night he was officially named the head of the company, the entire building was alive with celebration. People congratulated him left and right, raising glasses in his honor, praising his charm, his brilliance, and his unstoppable rise to power. You stood by his side, smiling softly as he greeted his investors and thanked his board.

But despite the glamour, something felt off. Jungkook was different -detached, colder than usual, like the man you first met. He didn't seem to notice your growing unease.

Later that evening, after slipping away for a moment to get some air, you made your way down a quieter hallway in the building. As you rounded a corner, voices stopped you in your tracks.

It was Jungkook's.

"You're really settling into this husband role, huh?" the voice was familiar -Eunwoo's, you realized after a second.

His tone was light and teasing, but it was what came next that made your blood run cold.

Jungkook let out a low chuckle. "Don't get carried away. This marriage means nothing. It was a deal, plain and simple. I finally got what I wanted"

There was a pause, followed by the sound of a glass clinking.

"And the rest?" Eunwoo asked, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "Sleeping with her?"

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart hammering painfully in your chest.

"That's just part of the game," Jungkook said casually, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Keeping her close keeps everything in control. She's predictable now. She's exactly where I need her."

Your vision blurred, your mind racing to process what you'd just heard. Every moment you'd spent with him, every touch, every whispered word in the dark -it had all been a lie. A calculated move in a game you didn't even know you were playing.

The sound of their laughter echoed down the hallway, cutting into you like a blade.

You turned and walked away before they could notice you, your steps quick and unsteady. Your chest ached, a painful mix of anger and heartbreak constricting your lungs.

By the time you reached the main hall, the noise of the party felt like a distant hum, your surroundings spinning as you tried to catch your breath.

You thought you had started to know him. You thought maybe, just maybe, there was something real between you.

But you were wrong.

You were nothing more than a pawn in his game -a game you never agreed to play.

The rest of the night at the party, you avoided him like the plague, your attitude a huge contrast to how you behaved when the night had started. Whenever Jungkook tried to approach you, you found an excuse to step away -chatting with guests, refreshing your drink, even pretending to admire the floral arrangements like they were the most fascinating thing in the world.

"Y/n" his voice caught you off guard as you lingered near the exit, your hand brushing the stem of an untouched champagne flute. Jungkook's dark eyes studied you, his brow furrowed in concern. "What's going on? You've been distant all night."

"I'm just tired," you said flatly, forcing a tight smile. "It's been a long day."

His frown deepened, but he didn't press further. Not yet.

The ride home was quiet -tense in a way that made the air between you feel suffocating. Jungkook sat beside you, his eyes occasionally flicking toward you, as if waiting for you to explain what was wrong. But you kept your gaze fixed out the window, your thoughts swirling in chaos.

Once you were back home, you made a beeline for the stairs, wanting nothing more than to put distance between you as you closed yourself back in your room.

"Y/n" his voice was sharp now, demanding. You stopped halfway up the stairs, your hand gripping the banister tightly. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

You turned slowly, meeting his gaze. The man you had once started to trust, the one who had held you so tenderly just nights ago, now felt like a stranger.

"I want a divorce."

The words fell from your lips with a finality that hung heavy in the air.

Jungkook froze, his eyes widening for a split second before narrowing dangerously. "What did you just say?"

"You heard me," you said, your voice calm despite the storm raging inside you. "You finally got what you wanted. You're head of the company now. There's no need to keep up this farce anymore."

His jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "Is that what you think? That this was all just some business arrangement, and now it's over?"

"Isn't it?" you shot back, your voice rising. "You've gotten everything you wanted, Jungkook. There's no point in pretending anymore."

"You're unbelievable," he growled, stepping closer. "You want to throw everything away just like that? After everything we've been through?"

You laughed bitterly. "What exactly have we been through, Jungkook? Lies? Manipulation? This marriage was never real. It was just a means to an end for you."

His eyes darkened, his lips pressing into a thin line. "And what if it wasn't?"

You crossed your arms, refusing to let him sway you. "It doesn't matter. I'm done."

"You're not done," he said, his voice low and dangerously calm. "You don't get to decide that impulsively."

"It's not an impulse," you snapped. "This was part of our deal since the beginning. I've made up my mind."

Jungkook's eyes burned with fury, but beneath it, there was something else -something raw and unguarded. "And when exactly did you make up your mind about it, huh?" he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I think it's better for both of us," you said, ignoring the way your heart clenched at the look in his eyes.

But Jungkook wasn't having it. His hand gripped the banister beside you, his body blocking your path. "No," he said firmly. "We're not done. Not until I say we are. And you're not leaving," Jungkook said, his voice steady but barely restrained, his body now fully blocking your path. His gaze locked onto yours, fierce and unrelenting.

"Move, Jungkook," you said through gritted teeth, trying to push past him. "I'm done having this conversation."

His hand shot out, gripping your wrist -not hard, but firm enough to keep you from walking away. "No. We're going to finish this right here"

You glared at him, your pulse racing. "What's the point? You made it clear I was just a means to an end. Now that you're head of the company, what reason is there for us to stay married?"

"Because this isn't just about the company!" Jungkook snapped, his voice rising, frustration boiling over. His chest heaved with each breath, and for the first time, he looked genuinely unhinged, like he was losing control of everything he'd carefully built.

You yanked your wrist free, your eyes burning with unshed tears. "Then what is it about? What part of this marriage was real to you? Tell me!"

His silence was deafening. His jaw clenched, his eyes searching your face for something -anything. But no words came.

Your heart twisted painfully in your chest, and you laughed bitterly, shaking your head. "Exactly. You can't even answer that."

Jungkook's eyes darkened, his frustration tipping into something dangerously possessive. "You really want to know what's real?" he said, stepping closer until there was barely an inch of space between you. "You." his voice was low, his eyes burning into yours. "Every damn second with you was real"

But for some reason, those words that night felt like the most painful stab at your chest. If there was something clear to you that night, it was that Jungkook never really cared for you, but his own control over you. That idea alone made your head spin, trying to decipher if all of his words in that moment were part of the act as well.

His proximity sent a jolt of heat through you, but you refused to back down. "Words mean nothing, Jungkook. Actions do."

"Then watch me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Before you could say another word, his lips crashed against yours in a kiss that stole your breath. It wasn't soft or sweet -it was raw and consuming, a war between his frustration and desire. His hand cupped the back of your neck, holding you in place as his lips moved against yours with an urgency that made your head spin.

You tried to fight it, to remind yourself of everything you'd just overheard, but your body betrayed you. Your hands gripped his shirt, pulling him closer even as your mind screamed at you to push him away.

His tongue swept across your bottom lip, coaxing a soft gasp from you, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. It felt like drowning, like falling too fast and too far, and you hated how easily he could unravel you.

When he finally pulled back, your hand slapped across his face, making it turn. He stayed in that position for a few seconds, until he finally moved his head back up, his eyes searching yours, dark and unreadable. "You think I don't care?" he whispered, his voice hoarse. "You're wrong."

Your heart thundered in your chest, and for a fleeting moment, you believed him. You believed every word, every touch. But the sting of his earlier betrayal still lingered, refusing to let go.

"I can't do this," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Not like this".

Not when you couldn't trust him, or know what he was saying was real or not. Not knowing when he was playing with you or showing off his feelings.

It was too much.

Jungkook's grip on you tightened, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "Yes, you can. You're not leaving."

"I don't want to be near you" you let go of his grip once again. "You disgust me. I can't even stand being near you right now. Who knows? Maybe it had always been like that and now that the reason that kept us together is gone I can be honest with the two of us. Be honest with yourself, too".

The next afternoon, sunlight streamed through the kitchen windows, casting a warm glow across the marble countertops. You sat at the kitchen island, quietly picking at your lunch, your mind still tangled in the events of the previous night. Sleep had been elusive -every word, every touch, every kiss replaying in your head on an endless loop.

You were lost in thought when the sound of the front door slamming snapped you back to reality. Heavy footsteps echoed down the hall, growing louder until Jungkook appeared in the doorway, his expression dark and unreadable.

Without a word, he reached into his coat and pulled out a stack of papers. He strode over to you and threw them onto the counter in front of you, the crisp white pages fanning out across the surface.

Your heart stopped for a second as you glanced down at them: "Divorce Agreement". Signed.

"You wanted this, right?" Jungkook said, his voice cold and biting. "There. You've got it. Congratulations, you're free."

You looked up at him, stunned into silence, your fork frozen in mid-air. His eyes were like shards of ice, his usual warmth completely gone. He looked almost... victorious, but underneath it, you could sense something else, some of his vulnerability was still obvious in his eyes.

"Jungkook, I..."

"You don't need to say anything" he interrupted, his voice dangerously calm. "You made it clear last night that this marriage means nothing to you. So, I'm giving you what you want. No more pretending. No more games."

Your chest tightened, and for a moment, you struggled to find your voice. "You think this is what I want?" you finally said, your voice trembling.

"Isn't it?" he shot back, his eyes narrowing. "You were the one who asked for the divorce. I'm just making it easy for you."

You swallowed hard, your throat burning. "You're unbelievable."

Jungkook crossed his arms, leaning against the counter with a bitter smirk. "No, what's unbelievable is that you think you can just walk in and out of my life whenever you want. You're the one who pushed me away, Y/n. I'm just giving you the freedom you begged for."

"Don't you dare act like you're some kind of victim here," you snapped, rising to your feet. "You lied to me, acting like you cared, like you were into me. You said you were after me long before all of this happened... Bullshit! You used me for your business, just like you admitted to Eunwoo. But I was dumb as fuck to believe we were more than that".

His eyes flickered with something -surprise, perhaps, or regret- but it was gone in an instant, replaced by that same infuriating calm. "So, that's what this is about," he muttered. "You overhear one conversation, twist it in your head, and suddenly I'm the villain?"

"I didn't twist anything," you said, your voice shaking. "I heard exactly what you said. That I'm just a pawn in your game. That sleeping with me was just part of your plan. Hope you enjoyed the bit of control you had while you fucked me."

Jungkook laughed, but it was a hollow, bitter sound. "You really think that's all you are to me?"

"Isn't it?" you challenged, your heart pounding so hard it hurt. "Tell me I'm wrong."

The silence that followed was deafening. His jaw clenched, his eyes searching yours for a long, agonizing moment. Then, slowly, he stepped back, his expression hardening.

"You already made up your mind," he said quietly. "So what's the point in convincing you otherwise?"

Your breath caught in your throat, tears stinging your eyes. You wanted to scream at him, to demand answers, to tear down the walls he had so carefully built around himself in less than a few days. But instead, all you could do was stand there, your heart breaking all over again.

"Fine," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "If that's how you want it."

He nodded once, his face devoid of emotion. "It's what you wanted, remember?"

Annoyed, you reached for a pen, signing up the papers next to him, slamming it against the table before getting up and walking away, leaving the papers on the counter in front of him. The sound of the front door slamming shut echoed through the house, and for the first time since the start of your marriage, you felt truly alone.

[strawberrynightmere]

I was the anon, that suggested the yandere Yandere Andrew Graves x Julia! (south american reader), can I request part two?

scenario: where Julia! reader organized a family dinner so she can tell her maternal grandpa and especially her mother,that she got back with Andrew, because she cares they approve their relationship with her (she doesn't care about her father's) the family dinner turns into a disaster when Julia's father brings out all the atrocities Andrew did in quarantine, which Andrew, genuinely pissed off, calls out her father for being ToxiSoda’s lawyer and exposing the atrocities he was forced to commit after the parasite leak ( i forgot to clarify this in the first request) , Andrew accept he is crazy as shit but he did it to survive, making Julia shock and intervine to defend Andrew, COMPLETELY ruining her damaged relationship with her father ( father's reader resents her for snitching on him when he cheated on Julia's mom,also because Julia followed the same career as her mom and not his, and she hates him for being harsh on her, or you can put other reasons) where Julia argues with her father.

Despite the disaster, they convince her mom and her grandpa that while Andrew might he off the rails,he only defended himself. and get their approval.

(no Ashley)

You can tell I LOVE drama.

Yup, and don't worry, I got the rest.

No Escape [Part 2]

TW⚠️: yandere tendencies, family drama, no murder (for now), the father is getting exposed, my writing, etc

A/n: I tried, I really did.

Part 1

This dinner was something that you have been silently dreading, and it's not because your divorced parents will be in the same room, even though you didn't invite your father in the first place. Okay, that was also a reason, but not the main one.

"Who is the extra plate for?" Your mother asks after counting the plates on the table. "I... invited someone over." You answer sheepishly, avoiding eye contact. She instantly picked up on what you were saying.

"You're dating again? Is that what this diner is about?" Her tone changed.

"I - uh..." You stammer, trying to respond.

She holds your face with both her hands, interrupting you. "I'm so happy for you." She kisses your forehead. "Can't wait to meet him." She said, exiting the dining room.

"O-oh... you already h-ave..." You quietly said in a shaky voice, hoping she didn't hear you. And who can blame you? You're re-introducing your assumed-to-be-dead "ex" boyfriend.

The doorbell rings, and you immediately go to check in case Andrwe comes early. But as you opened the door, it was your father.

"Ah... Papa... you came." You really hoped he wouldn't, like he did with most of his promises, especially now.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world!" He really should've.

You begrudgingly let him in and pray that this dinner ends well.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

You were expecting too much. That's all there is to say.

The tension was thick. You could cut it with a knife and serve it on a plate.

To your luck, the doorbell rang, and you immediately announced that you would get it as you sprinted out of there, leaving your parents and grandfather at the table.

Grandfather leans to your mother and whispers; "What is this buro doing in my house?" "I don't know, Papa." She whispered back.

"Ehem!" You cough to get their attention.

You stood at the entrance of the dining room, one arm covered by the doorframe.

"There is a reason why I organized this dinner." You anxiously say. "I have been back to dating a while ago now." Analizing the people at the table; mother looked happy, grandfather wasn't easy to read, and father wasn't paying much attention.

"And I have invited him over..." God, you felt like throwing up with how nervous you are. Even after reversing multiple times, you still messed it up.

Doesn't really matter as you feel Andrew squeezing your hand gently. You take a breath and walk in with Andrew following after.

"Y-You've met Andrew before."

The room was dead silent. Everyone wore a shocked expression. Of course, that doesn't last long as your father is the first to react by slamming the table in anger.

"What is he doing here!?" He went off. "How can you do this?! How can you bring a criminal in here?!" And continues to list the things Andrew has done in quarantine.

"There's the pot calling the kettle black." Andrew retorted, stepping in front of you.

"I may be crazy, but I'm not the one covering up Toxisodas organ harvesting scheme, nor did I set up [Name] with a hit man."

"Que?" Your mother asked, shock fading away.

"Que!?" She got louder, and grandfather was right there with her as they were about to go off on him.

And you quickly intervened. If anyone was going to reprimand him, it would be you.

"You knew the whole time and purposely put me in risk." This time, it was him who was sweating bullets.

"Cariña I-"

"Why?" You cut him off. "Were you hoping he'd kill me too?" You didn't raise your voice. "Was it because I exposed your affair? Was it because I didn't go into law like you wanted me to? Why!?" You almost cried. Andrew was holding your hand.

The man you called "Papa" just doubled down and stormed out of the house.

That's when you let the tears pour out as you get embraced by your boyfriend, and your mother and grandfather run up to comfort you.

A/n: Well... that was something.

[ladyluscinia]

My hottest take from trying to delve into David Jenkins's interviews and piece together where he's going with this is that - for all he and everyone else are consistent about describing this show as a romance and a romcom (and The Muppets) - I don't think he finds the romance compelling??? At least, not the healthy endgame version.

Like, the one interview where he dropped that he was planning an unrequited romance in all those pitches of his until they shot the bathtub scene in 1x06...? Wild twist, but also it kind of makes sense.

Look at the comparisons he makes. Titanic (where Jack dies). Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (where both leads die). Shows like Insecure and Grey's Anatomy, where relationships get messy breakups constantly. He's excited about fanvids set to Olivia Rodrigo's "Favorite Crime". Writes an episode based on Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, a 1966 film of a play that attacks the concept of happy marriages. He mentions A Star Is Born repeatedly in reference to S2, a movie where the disaster marriage ends in suicide and heartbreak.

And even broad spectrum - he repeatedly explains that he's not compelled by pirate stories. Accuses the genre of being "creaky" and "hard to budge", and then claims to want to subvert it in one interview and shrugs about how "it's a pirate story" as reasoning in others. But the part he seems interested in...? Well it's the oncoming end of the Golden Age aspect, and also maybe the short and violent life of organized crime. He's drawing comparisons to mob movies and Westerns - two things I think we can say trend toward the bittersweet to tragic scale with endings. His examples certainly do.

I'm no longer surprised he was really compelled by the Edward and Izzy toxic divorce in S1 and the idea of doing an arc about "Can Izzy find himself outside of this toxic relationship?" only to answer "No." It seems right in his wheelhouse, tbh. Definitely enough that if he felt like Izzy ought to die due to vibes, I doubt he was looking too hard for an alternative.

For all his talk about "Can BlackBonnet put the work into this relationship?" I'm really getting the impression he thinks the more compelling answer is also "No." He likes the idea of a happy ending maybe, but he doesn't really seem into that as a story.

Now, he does seem to have gotten a crash course in "Maybe don't bury your gays?" and he's not lying about wanting to avoid the specific kinds of coming out and queer trauma stories - those are different kinds of tragedies - but I am... skeptical, perhaps, that the forced happy ending feeling of S2 will do anything but repeat in S3.

Just because, like, if I was scrolling these takes on a fic author's blog, I'd put majority odds on the main couple hanging in the final chapter, and I bet a happy sunset ending would come kinda out of nowhere...

Not really a recipe for satisfying, you know?

[itsclydebitches]

Thinking today about how much fun a Tedependent fic from Mae's perspective could be:

Verbally cutting, diehard Richmond fan—to the point of kicking others out of her pub; her loyalty outweighs profits and that's sAYING SOMETHING—Mae has been following Trent's writing for years. She approves of his single-minded devotion and take-no-shit style.

He's shown up at the pub once or twice, usually to get a feel for the community after a match so he can do a better write-up. Mae always treats him like a minor celebrity. Trent mentioned her in an article once and you know that's now in a gold frame over the bar.

She's one of the first to notice his demeanor change during the press conferences. The camera rarely ever cuts to the press, but she can hear the difference in how he asks questions now. The soft, awe-like, “Would you care to comment?” is a damn bit different from, “Is this a fucking joke?”

Mae, who is an avid trashy romance reader and has secretly always dreamed of pulling off some epic matchmaking: “HMMM 👀"

By this point she’s incredibly fond of Ted (dragging him for losses is her love language, okay) and it’s definitely a coincidence that Trent is showing up at the pub more each month than he has in the last ten years combined.

The Trio mutters darkly one night about how their cutthroat journo has gone soft and Mae dumps a pitcher of beer over their heads. Then she makes them clean it up. Then she makes them pay for it. Then she explains what they’ve clearly been too blind to see and they are SOLD. Holy shit, Trent Crimm and the American gaffer?? Best hookup of the century, how can they help?

The very next night Ted is moping (from Mae’s perspective) and Trent is awkwardly avoiding a kiss from some stringbean with a mustache. This isn’t just a matter of wanting to be involved now, this disaster duo needs them.

Except soon after Trent publishes his article on Ted’s panic attacks and HO BOY DOES THAT GO OVER WELL /S

He’s banned from the pub. The Trio yells at him on the street like they once yelled at Ted. Ted literally has to beg Mae to forgive him and Trent delivers a homemade strawberry pie, her favorite, to try and smooth things over.

(Everyone knows Ted baked the pie, but Mae’s willingness to go along with the ruse is proof that Trent is back in her good graces.)

It also helps that Trent showed up drunk as a skunk an hour after closing one night, reeling from the fact that he’s a) gay, b) getting a divorce, c) just blew up his twenty year career, d) has incredibly few prospects and a young child to care for, and e) is madly in love with a sunshine golden retriever who’s probably straight. Dressed in her nightgown and spitting fire, Mae forces a pitcher of water down his throat, calls him an Uber, and talks his ear off about how stupid he’s been until it arrives. Trent doesn’t remember anything past the second bar he hit that night, but a small, seemingly subconscious idea sticks with him: why not write a book about Ted Richmond?

So it’s Season Three. Trent is slowly being pulled into the Richmond family orbit. Ted is slowly inching towards Total Football and the culmination of all his work here. They’re dancing around each other, getting closer, but never close, and Mae sees it all unfolding in her pub, on the screen, and through the Richmond grapevine.

She and The Trio decide that It’s Time. Operation Mustache/Hair (Paul had to explain to the others what shipping was) is a go.

Let the shenanigans begin!

[antiquepearlss]

Based on this post about Eugene, Cassandra, and Varian all sharing the moonstone; I wrote it from the point of view that they’re still with Rapunzel. But I have come to adore the idea of them all three ending up with the moonstone, and running away to avoid Rapunzel for her own safety. And Rapunzel, Lance, and the girls trying to hunt them down. Cat and Mouse but sadder, funnier, and with more singing.

Just imagine those three trying to live with eachother full time and on the run, whilst trying to find a way to get rid of the moonstone so they can go home.

Eugene and Varian are already chaotic on their own and give Cass a headache- And while Eugene does take a slightly more mature older brother role when it comes to Varian, they’re still best friends, and those two are no doubt even more chaotic together, meaning double the headache for Cass. Not to mention how Eugene and Cass are constantly fighting and at each others throats. And Varian is desperate to impress the both of them but always trips over his own feet, causing mishaps wherever he goes. When he’s not seeking sibling approval, he’s a sassy teenage boy with anger issues. Cass is just so tired and she just wants to go home and be with her dad and now she’s responsible for two children also apparently her mother was Gothel so there’s that also she is still dealing with the slight Rapunzel resentment.

Now add all three of them having the moonstone.

What I’m trying to say is that this would be a road trip au involving two divorced sword-fighting wine parents and their sassy disaster scientist son. And all three of them have godlike powers due to an ancient celestial deity.

And the b-plot involves Rapunzel being worried out of her mind and being supported by Lance, Kiera, Catalina, and Shorty, which is traumatizing in and of itself. Lance is a great friend and he’s a wonderful pillar of support and advice, but he’s not the strongest when it comes to helping to find his friends. He’s smart but Eugene knows him well and knows how to evade him. And Kiera and Catalina are criminal preteens who want to watch the world burn and are just if no help whatsoever. Also, Shorty.

[calciumdeficientt]

hi if i dm you my oc for bully can u do the headcanons thing? also for characters how would you feel about doing hal from the greasers? he’s my favourite and i think he’s pretty underrated

Feel free to send your oc over! I’m am genuinely obsessed with other people’s ocs everyone puts so much thought into them, in the meantime please enjoy my Hal hcs :3333

If Hal has no fans I’m dead. They could never make me hate you Hal Esposito

Hal Esposito hcs

- one thing i alway hate hate HATED about Hal’s voice lines was how rockstar trivialised his fatness and made it the crux of his personality because haha fat = funny but i like to think what it actually stems from is an overbearing mother trying to make up for lost time

-the greasers canonically live in and around the most underdeveloped and deprived areas of bullworth, so its not a particularly bad shout to assume Hal grew up poor, maybe with very little to eat, hence now… its all he can really think about

- also in the voice lines from when jimmy has to fight to earn the greaser’s hideout, Hal offhandedly critiques lucky for not enjoying his preferred channels “what, natural disasters and war footage doesn’t do it for you?” So i also like to imagine Hal is kind of a big history buff, and in true boy fashion he’s particularly fixated on the history of war and combat

-secretly, i reckon he enjoys building model planes and tanks, its basically what he does in the shop but way cooler (at least to him) and the fumes are just minorly different. He knows everything there is to know about the models too, including their life size counterparts. He can tell you everything trom the caliber of the fixed guns, the length of the wheel tracks, the wingspans, even down to the serial numbers and the dates they were patented and discontinued. Shit’s majorly impressive.

- his jacket was his dad’s, him and his mum split when he was pretty young, right after his little sister was born but Hal didn’t really take it so badly, at least not as badly as his parents had initially expected. He was old enough to know what divorce was, and somewhat wise enough to see that it would be better for both parents if they cut ties. The jacket is very very vintage and is falling apart from dry rot. Hal used leather softener stuff on it and re-lined it countless times but it still looks freshly plucked from a dumpster. Not that he minds, he thinks it makes him look rugged

- speaking of his little sister, he really loves that little girl. It’s where most of his money goes, he’s so incredibly soft for her. If he could have it his way shed have every single penny out of his pocket to spend on whatever she liked. She’s only little, barely in grade school but its still all but confirmed she’s going to bullworth when she gets old enough(based on the little kids I’m assuming is a mixed middle school/high school but that’s a an entirely different can of worms) , and god help everyone then. If he’s not already graduated, Hal will literally knock his grades down low enough to not graduate if it means he can hang around and protect his sister for just a smidge longer.

-this kid is so fucking smooth, it comes in the greaser gauntlet, you’ve gotta woo the ladies (or gents, they’re delinquents, not bigots) to get in or you’ll make them look bad. Hal’s a real Casanova but he gets the piss taken out of him because his taste is a little… unconventional. He’s just ahead of the curve, and heavy on the curve. It’s all but confirmed he likes bigger ladies and honestly who are we to take that away from him?

- he does that dude thing where he’ll slap you on the back when he hugs you and he is STRONG. He’s got big calloused hands with crazy surface area that wind you for a good 20 minutes after a pat on the back. Best to avoid him on your birthday too, his birthday digs are LETHAL (is that a thing in the US its a thing inthe UK?)

[saturnniidae]

More rotbtd modern au info

(Some of this was in the other post but it's more organized here. Hopefully)

After The Incident, Hiccup, Stoick and Astrid move from Berk (tiny, mostly unheard of, self-governing island somewhere in the Norwegian sea) to Burgess Pennsylvania. Supposedly for Stoick's work, but they all know it's to get away from Berk after what happened, a fresh start. Stoick's rarely home (and a bit emotional negligent) but Hiccup's self sufficient and has been since he was old enough to use a stove, plus Astrid's there (to attempt) to keep him out of trouble.

Hiccup and Astrid are trans. This is part of why Astrid is staying with them 'temporarily' (she needed to get away from her parents so she could breathe)

Astrid comes from a famliy of athletes with rather high expectations.

Hiccup and Astrid grew closer essentially bonding over being 'town outcasts' after she came out (the other teens didn't really care and were respectful, most of the adults had s noticeable change in behavior; lots of dramatic sighing and disappointment over 'what a promising young man' Astrid was). Astrid occasionally talking about gender (especially since she's very blunt and rarely afraid to say what's on her mind) is what triggered Hiccups realization

How it went: Hiccup, who's been crushing on Astrid for a while *finds out Astrids a girl*: oh shit! Am I lesbian?? *Hiccup a while later, looking like a drowned rat with a fuckass uneven haircut*: No. No I am not.. (Astrid's so awesome for being his bi AND trans awakening)

Stoick was unsure at first (Hiccups done a lot of weird random things, he couldn't tell if this was serious or not) but after a talk from Gobber he was supportive and mostly just happy Hiccup was making friends (Hiccup was on neutral ground with most of the kids but was still mostly excluded though he talked to Fishlegs occasionally + Ruff & Tuff would follow him around for front row seats to any disaster he caused and since Snotlouts his cousin, spending time together is inevitable) and Astrid began spending more and more time over at their house.

Toothless is a scrappy tripod cat of unknown origin that Hiccup accidentally hits with his bike a bit after moving to Burgess (this happened because he was fed up with having even worse balance than before due to the. Yknow. Lack of slightly less than half his left leg. And Astrid – off handedly during a 'don't do dumb, dangerous things' rant – advised against doing stuff like biking which gave him the amazing idea: 'bike ridings a good way to work on balance'). After watching it speed limping away to some alleyway, Hiccup resolves to gain the cats trust so he can help it and make up for what he did.

The rest is under the cut because this is a monster of a post

Hiccup slowly realizes this cat is way more intelligent than it should be, in an almost unnatural way. He doesn't care, he's just pleased its begun allowing him to pet it and even started to follow him around (even if it's mostly for treats. Progress is progress)

As much as Hiccup loves Astrid he thinks she worries about him too much; she always has, but it's worse now more than ever and he finds it almost overbearing

After The Incident Stoick's a mix of avoident when it comes to the word disabled or amputee, as if in some kind of odd denial, while also being simultaneously overprotective and distant somehow. Hiccup is not pleased with this

Valka is absent but she and Stoick aren't divorced. She works as a paleontologist and when she's not traveling shes in the lab. Their relationships quite strained. She calls monthly to check in but it's usually Hiccup who answers (he eagerly talks with her about her work, but still feels a bit like he's talking more to an acquaintance than to his mother)

A large factor in how Stoick treats Hiccup after his amputation is due to the fact he was there (or at least for the aftermath) when the initial injury happened and saw how much general destruction there was, and was absolutely horrified. Hiccup's banned from inventing for the foreseeable future. ("YOU THREW OUT MY SOLDERING IRON?!" "No. It... got lost in the move." <- being bad at lying runs in the famliy)

Hiccup gets to the point where the cat willingly follows him inside through an open bedroom window and even sleeps on his bed. During this Hiccup realizes the cats missing some teeth, hence the name. He also slowly makes the realization he can communicate with Toothless on an unnatural level. This also doesn't bother him (though he logs his discoveries in a journal), he's elated to have made a new friend (especially since things with Astrid are currently rather tense)

Now onto the Rotbtd parts

the Dunbrochs already live in Burgess. Merida is Hiccups cousin he's met only a few times before when he was little, they barely remember each other. So much so that Merida doesn't even realize Hiccup's trans since his names the same she's just like 'yeah, that's my cousin, the tiny one with the goofy name'

Merida and Astrid meet and hit it off but their dynamics kinda funny. Astrid has somewhat of a crush on Merida and thinks she's amazing (archery and fencing + various other sports + she's never afraid to say what's on her mind + she's funny and cute and has pretty hair etc) and is trying to be nonchalant about it, Merida also thinks Astrids super cool if a bit withdrawn and feels she'd be a lot happier if she loosened up (she would be) and also if she stopped worrying about Hiccup so much.

Rapunzel is a weird sheltered (fucked up) homeschool kid Merida met on accident a few weeks prior to the Haddocks (+ Astrid) moving in, and is determined to give core childhood experiences to

Jack is kind of a loser. All his friends are the kids at the daycare he works at, and his best friend is his 11 year old sister (he doesnt get along well with most teens bc they think hes too enthusiastic or childish <- just neurodivergent), though he kind of knows Merida from speaking to her when she's sent to pick her brothers up.

He doesn't actually become friends with her until he sees Merida trying to get Rapunzel to use some lended rollerskates at the park. He was curious as to what they were doing and offered some tips (he skateboards but his sister's more interested in rollerskates so he knows some stuff) then they got distracted and started talking about random things until the subject of Merida's self imposed 'mission' came up and Jack offered to help.

Jack meets Hiccup by accidentally hitting him while skateboarding (Hiccup's first thought is 'well I suppose this is what I get after hitting a cat with my bike") and freaks out because he thinks he broke Hiccups leg or something since the prosthesis got forced into an unnatural angle on their landing. Hiccup thinks his panic is funny at first until he realizes how genuinely freaked out Jack is and tells him he's actually fine. Introductions are made and Jack offers to show Hiccup around since he's new, he only accepts because Merida keeps saying he needs more friends.

Hiccup and Jack start spending more time together after learning they have similar interests (Jack doesn't believe Hiccup's claim he's the best snowboarder on Berk until Astrid backs him up, Jack's kind of scared of Astrid but thinks she's cool), tastes in bands and comics along with their general (sometimes considered odd by others) curiosity with the world. Also Jack is enamored with Hiccup's inventions (Stoick thought he could stop him but underestimated Hiccup's resourcefulness. Recycled tech stores, thrift shops, and hardware stores are what his allowance goes towards.)

Later Merida decides to introduce Rapunzel to Hiccup, they're both kind of awkward until she brings up Rapunzel's art and how she likes birdwatching (from her window and yard since she's technically not supposed to leave, but they don't need to know that) and Hiccup's immediately interested

Hiccup likes charcoal and mostly sketches animals and plants to log them, but Rapunzel gets him into painting and portraits. And she, like Jack, is also incredibly interested in his inventions and other crafts (he sews and also took up woodworking a few months ago before they left Berk)

Merida decides to make a group chat for all her new friends that seem to be social recluses (not out of choice), but is startled when Hiccup mentions he and Astrid share a phone. It's technically his but he barely uses it + the last one got crushed in his bike on accident (and the one before that got dropped in the ocean. on accident) so he's not really meant to use it unless he needs to. Astrid uses it fairly often to text Ruffnut and Heather. Hiccups not very interested in it because he's fine with his laptop and mp3 player (Valka gave it to him last she saw him on his 14th birthday, hes 16 now).

The woods of Burgess are said to be haunted (something Jack swears is true. He says something breathed on the back of his neck while he was climbing a tree once) which endlessly fascinates Hiccup (he's always had a fascination with magic and the supernatural) so he often wanders around but since he's not allowed out at night he doesn't find anything. Yet

He also discovers some supposedly haunted closed down buildings on the edge of town he wants to explore. The others for the most part have no idea why he's so interested but Jack's immediate reaction is to say yes since he's curious as well then the others follow

Hiccup also has a tendency to forget he can't just wander wherever he wants like back on Berk. (On Berk he and the other teens could go pretty much anywhere no one cared about 'tresspassing')

Hiccup can't really see the 'ghosts' but Toothless can so Hiccup's aware of their presence through him

Jack isn't a huge fan of Toothless and neither is Merida. They think he's too smart and that it's uncanny. Neither of them will say this to Hiccup's face. Though they've mentioned it to Rapunzel, who insists sometimes animals are 'just Like That' (ofc she'd say that. her chameleon is like a human soul stuck in a lizard body)

One of the first scenes I thought of that sparked this AU was the big four, sitting in a 7-Eleven parking lot, horrified, watching Jack mix a five hour energy into a can of monster because 'it'd be so funny'

And that's it for now! (I have some extra stuff on Berk but that's kinda like background details)

Tysm if you read all this!! If you have any questions or even suggestions/ideas PLEASE send me an ask

[kurtsascot]

klaine divorce. theres a custody battle. none of their friends allow themselves to pick sides, except brittana (kurt) and sam (blaine). for the first couple months they make brittana and sam do the child handoffs because they cant stand to see each other, but santana refuses eventually and they have to meet at a neutral location. starts as a quick handoff where they refuse to speak, but blaine reads that kurt gets casted in a role hes been wanting forever and it sparks first civil conversation in months. drop offs turn into hour long swaps in central park. as weeks progress, they begin look forward to the time together, they can keep conversation light, are starting to get along again. they are more careful of the other’s feelings. they are more observant of how they speak to each other. they start dating other people. every date is a disaster. bond over terrible date experiences, unbeknownst to themselves, they are looking for each other in other people. they arent over eachother. will never be over each other. with kurt’s hectic rehearsal schedule, blaine moves back in to watch child. getting along this time, avoiding areas of conflict, compromising. kurt tries to bring someone home. blaine hates leaving. kurt hates that blaine left. kurt chases after blaine. its raining and i love you. i’ll always love you. i miss you when you are gone, and i miss you even more when you are here. i miss us. can we try again? please? i’m willing to try this time please say something i

[noopkit]

fontaine family reunion

Arlecchino and Furina have a family reunion, but it doesn't go as planned.

☆Ships included: Arlefuri, Clorivia, divorced Neuvifuri, divorced Wriorinde☆

Not a fully fledged fanfic, just hcs ^^

preparation

Arlecchino hates baking more than anything else; she thinks baking is too "soft" and she doesn't always want to show that side in front of her family. Whenever the kids ask for birthday cakes, she gets her personal cooks to do it in secret.

But Furina has been planning this family reunion for so long, Arlecchino wouldn't be a good wife if she didn't agree to bake with her. They pick out some easy recipes together, and Arlec tries to hide her bad mood the entire time. Furina makes it all a little better <3

The rest of the food is prepared by the cooks, so all that is left to do is to get ready. Despite her intimidating demeanor, Arlecchino never fails to get a bit shy when Furina asks her to zip up her dress. The dress she chooses is Arlec's favorite: a dark blue dress made out of velvet, the glitter makes it look a bit like the sky at night. It's shoulderless and fits her perfectly, emphasizing her waist with some intentional folds in the fabric.

guests

The couple had a few small fights before finally coming to a decision on who to invite.

A small reunion, that was the plan: Neuvillette, some Fatui, and one or two other relatives.

However, when Furina was designing the cards, she added a sneaky little "plus ones are welcomed!". Arlecchino has the misfortune of not having noticed that...

All of the Fatui Harbingers come. Arlecchino only invited Columbina and Capitano, but they in turn invited everybody else. Furina avoids having to greet them by asking a maid about her day– not suspicious at all!

Wriothesley wasn't even invited by anyone, he seems to have invited himself.... somehow. Furina welcomes him with open arms, but Arlecchino can only shoot him a death glare.

He invited Clorinde, his ex-wife (an attempt at recuperation... or something), who invited Navia, who invited some friends from Poisson. Arlecchino has now sunken into her chair completely, glaring at those who aren't supposed to be there... and Neuvillette.

Only God knows who invited Lumine, but she decided this would be a perfect opportunity to introduce Furina to the other Archons. Some of them also have plus ones, such as Kujou Sara– Arlecchino has never even heard of her!

the obligatory argument

They were expecting this, but the number of unexpected guests just made it worse.

We all know how it always starts; someone has a controversial take, decides to complain about another family member, or both.

Who thought it'd be a good idea to have Clorinde and Wriothesley sit next to eachother? Clorinde is the type of person who thinks takes like "why do women wear perfume, natural body odor smells great" are incredibly annoying. He's always been a bit disgusting, even declining an offer for a custom perfume from Emilie.

The atmosphere just gets tenser every minute. The kids' table (which Columbina is sitting at, for some reason) is going wild– someone spilled their Fonta, now someone else is sticky, now everyone's annoyed and yelling at eachother.

So Clorinde and Wriothesley start arguing. Stuff like "Why did we never have kids?", "Why were you always so absent?", "Are you still married to your work?" ruins the mood at the adults' table.

And Navia just HAS to make an announcement talking about the bodyguards she lost in the flood, which makes Furina incredibly uncomfortable. Arlecchino starts arguing with Navia, and chaos ensues– everyone is arguing.

after the disaster

Everyone goes home, and the day has been ruined. Arlecchino and Furina reprimand their children for being immature, but Furina brings them sliced fruit later that evening as an apology.

When it's time to go to bed, the two talk about the disaster and comfort eachother. They know what to do next time: ban plus ones.

Creds to @animatedglittergraphics-n-more for the divider at the top

Thank you to @dia-vectorsnart for helping me come up with a lot of this!!

[sageandred]

911 Lone Star Rewatch Notes~ Season 2

Been recapping the episodes for myself as a refresher; posting this one late from the drafts, but oh well!

2x01: Back in the Saddle

why tf don't I remember a stolen military tank driving down the street? lmao

Police on the scene: "And if he decides to shoot at us with the cannon?" "..Duck." 🤭 Carlos <3

ohhhh now I remember: Owen->🧍‍♂️🚎<-the tank RT UP 2 HIS FACE

I remember loving Tommy's entrance/introduction. She was a great addition in s2.

Tommy is so calm, lol, while this roller derby girl has a piece of floorboard sticking thru her torso

..and her arm?!?! Ooo that looks painful

"Is it that noticeable [that he's stressed]?" "I noticed and I'm pretty sure I haven't looked at you since you walked in." Marjan (loml)<-->TK dynamic things & "I noticed her noticing." ok, i love Paul (nothing new)

Carlos massaging TK while he's stressed and telling his divorced-kid experience story. (it's abt the details)

Tommy getting harnessed up to climb a cell tower, making a tourniquet at the top, and being targeted by a crossbow shooter in her first episode. They put the paramedic in action.

lmao "We're taking fire." "Did you just say —? ..we don't hear anything down here." I love the crossbow angle; it's so unserious.

"You know if you get yourself shot again, you're never making it out of the doghouse." (he cares so much) -- "Firefighters. You really are a smug bunch." "You love it." ❤️

"TK knows [abt his dysfunctional divorcee parents hooking up]." "Everybody [knows]." I love their healthily dysfunctional lil family dynamic

2x02: 2100°

I never noticed Owen kind of side hugged his son-in-law before he was his SIL at the cancer remission party

Is this back-to-back episodes of the first (on-screen) times TK and Carlos call each other babe (Carlos in 2.01 and TK here)? They "moved in" and became domestic immediately.

How did Carlos get away with that obvious (poor!) deflection about meeting his parents?

Also how did I kind of miss TK's kindof delection (embarrassment) from how happy he was and jumping to progress the relationship by bringing up Carlos' parents casually in conversation (and he was soo offended in 2x04 after a full season of avoiding a relationship <3)

"I get to rappel into that?" " 'Get to?' That's an interesting choice of words. " Marjan-TK friendship gets to shine!

At the pool scene, why did Nancy actually freeze???

Ok, she redeemed herself and performed the rescue act.

I didn't necessarily expect Tim to survive, being a recurring character and all, but that impact of the lava ball was shocking the first time I saw it...right before the cut to commercial.

Mateo says he was asked to report on what HE saw? (ig they could just ask everybody, but..) I wonder if he and Nancy will ever talk about/mention Tim's death in conversation. [I think they do when they connect later (to go to counseling???)]

It's actually crazy how little time Captain Vega was there before some insane disasters occurred.

Buster (Keaton), the cat, this is your introduction.

Marjan and Paul boxing together ❤️

You see the difference in how long they've been together by how Grudd and Tarlos have their comfort scenes and TK not really expecting for Carlos to be waiting on the stairs vs the assurance with Grace waiting in the bed already and simply reaching back to hold his hand. Both couples don't need to say anything. It's a big moment for tarlos, because they're a newer couple.

2x03: Hold the Line

kind of pleased that I just so happened to reach this episode when I reached the s4 episode of og on my binge-watch

Tell me why I don't remember Eddie being from Texas (idek)??

"I think that guy [Buck] is staring at you." (and Marjan's head whip); this was so funny

Buck, Mateo, & TK being the ones to end up on digging duty is the most fitting scenario of what you'd expect for each of them (& ofc Marjan and Paul get out of it by volunteering for the other job)

First time I saw this I wasn't watching 911 and wondered why this guy was even flirting w/Marjan

Why do I think the pep talk Judd gives to the "scrawny" boy about fighting back is meant to be significant to his own exp. (I don't remember it coming up later; could relate to his ptsd idk)? Edit: I wonder if it was him thinking abt his friend we find out abt in 2x09?

tarlos phone call even when Carlos isn't in the episode <3

"Dumbass and Dumbasser"

TK and Carlos SHOULD find themselves in LA & reference the gaydar now that Buck is confirmed bi

2x04: Friends with Benefits

They mention Owen's fear of clowns here, before we ever find out how deep it runs.

"I do like people to know you're mine." & the "maybe we should [come here more often]." (no reason for this I just love) ❤️

This is based on nothing substantial but will Carlos & TK move at the end of season 5??? [oh my god i was right!] prob not (just cuz he wasn't set on staying close to family and asked would he move. "If it was for the right person."

I love the awkward Carlos parents meeting so much. Poor TK. This is why I was waiting w/all the TK getting settled into the new relationship notices (he's so much more outwardly emotional about things than Carlos atp)

note: Marjan is 25. She mentions with her fiancé that they always planned to marry in 5 years when they're 30.

2x05: Difficult Conversations

"Guardian Angle" poor Mateo

Gwyn and Owen were such a mess, but they were a perfectly matched mess

Poor Grace (father cheating) / Grace and Judd are so healthy/respectful of one another (Grace reassuring Judd before he has to say anything, and him respecting when she doesn't want to talk about it)

2x06: Everyone and Their Brother

I feel like they've been pairing Marjan, Paul, and Mateo more as a trio this season and it's a fun combo of personalities. Then, they've been showing a lot of Judd-TK.

"What made you change your mind?" "I am going to be a father." Do not do this to me. 😭 Do not say this to him.

and TK deciding he wants to be a paramedic this episode, making his own path away frm his dad (a good arc, I like)

2x07: Displaced

Poor Nancy; it's not just that she's missing Tim, it's that she's missing her old team and how she, Michelle and Tim had their own work fam dynamic

(because this brought unexpected hilarity) the Magnetic Field MRI call >

Did they just randomly mention that Paul has ridden a motorcycle (got into an accident)?

2 times they just randomly have Ronen wearing an earring this episode, & I know it's more fitting for his character than Rafael's, but the fact we'll never get both on screen at the same time..

It hurt my heart how the baby wasn't Owen's, but it led to some good stuff next ep, so ready for that!

2x08: Bad Call

marks 1 year of TK's sobriety

Why have I never noticed JUST how cute Carlos' ecstatic clapping at the end of TK's speech is? (also long Grace-Carlos embrace in bg of Gwyn & Owen talking!)

"I trusted my instincts like you always taught me." "Ah, yeah, see, but the thing is, son, you gotta have the right instincts." i love this Carlos-centric ep

Carlos and his future father-in-law this ep ❤️ (he actually gave him more encouraging advice than Gabriel abt trusting his gut 😢/ (both words can be helpful) )

TK just straight up told Nancy about his parents baby out of the blue on the way to the call (ok, they're friends!)

2x09: Saving Grace

1995(12 yrs old)->2020: Judd is 37 as of

I know Judd wouldn't feel this way, but the accident was actually his friend's fault by pushing down on the pedal

the correlation of Judd feeling responsible for his friend's accident to feeling responsible while he waits for Grace to wake up

😭😍😭 is all I have left to say for this ep

99% expecting Grace to be in Graduate School for s5; we'll see

2x10: A Little Help from My Friends

the Tarlos move-in episode (well their new home doesn't last long)

TK: "Carlos is making his grandma's ropa vieja.." 🥲 I can't wait for our husband's era

I loved the Mateo-Owen roommate arc

It just occurred to me how technically the fireteam (minus captain) will be only Mateo, Marjan, & Paul without Judd and TK's long-standing paramedic title now. (because this szn we see the 3 of them bounce off of each other a lot more & that will be present in s5)

Carlos was put on the spot during that intervention and he still doesn't feel comfortable calling him "Owen" my bby😄

2x11: Slow Burn

This is the second storyline where Marjan's been put in a position to feel like she needs to step back from something, because of perception w/her online presence.

"...a easy mistake-" "that our son should've corrected" why did I never notice the REAL accusation in that line?! (i think it just feels like it because of Carlos' reaction afterwards; i could write a whole analysis on the Gabriel-Carlos miscommunication + their backstory 😢 s5 is gonna break me!!!)

2x12: The Big Heat

idc, I like Billy now (his deadpan is funny)

The consistency of Judd playing video games in scenes is 💯 (appreciate the continuation)

Again, Tommy went thru it her introductory season. Charles 😭

2x13: One Day

not much to add here; this episode is really sad for Tommy-

but man, I forgot how heartbreaking that opening scene is!

2x14: Dust to Dust

2 weeks since Charles' death

wait I can't remember what happened after Tommy saying she was retiring...

Aww Nancy "..how I wanna be as a paramedic, as a captain, and hopefully one day as mom"

..oh, that's right, Tommy realized she needed to go out in the dust storm & that helping is her calling (duh)

Mateo's a firefighter! (I totally forgot this (when, i mean))

oh that's right, I hate Billy again!

I think I'm gonna write very little for these since I've seen all of this before and then, I end up with long posts.

[armpirate]

The Vows Between Us || San

Part 2

pairing: San x fem!reader || Arranged marriage

w.c.: 13.6k

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, oral sex (male receiving), female masturbation, unprotected sex, teasing, edging (Minors DNI! Refrain from reading if you're not +18, and ignore if you don't like this type of content)

Aprox. time of reading: 40 / 50 minutes

Summary: For San, marrying you was a calculated move -a necessary step to secure the company that was rightfully his. But also a move to know you'd be his after years of looking at you from afar. For you, it was an escape from the gilded cage your family had locked you in. What neither of you anticipated was the spark that would ignite in the ashes of your arrangement. But in a world where every touch felt like a promise and every whisper hid a secret, falling for him was your first mistake. Because just when you thought his heart might truly be yours, you uncovered the truth. Or so you thought.

MASTERLIST

The air inside San's office was warm and suffocating despite the minimalistic modern design and large floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked Berlin's skyline. You stepped inside with measured steps, your heels clicking softly on the marble floor. San was already there, leaning against the edge of his grand wooden desk with his long thick fingers wrapping around the pen that kept swirling on his digits every few seconds, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.

"You're early," he said, his voice smooth but laced with something smug.

"I prefer to get unpleasant things over with quickly," you replied, your tone cool and detached as you slipped off your coat. "I assume your father told you why I'm here."

San chuckled, swirling the pen one last time before putting it down. "Oh, I know. The future Mrs. Choi wants to 'discuss terms,' right? Sounds like a business merger already." his dark eyes gleamed with interest as he looked you up and down, deliberately slow. "But I'm curious, why did you finally agree? You seemed so determined to avoid me before."

You crossed your arms, meeting his gaze without flinching. "Not everything is about you, San. My reasons are my own."

The smirk faltered for a split second before returning, this time tinged with something bittersweet. "Fair enough," he said, straightening up and taking a step closer, his voice dropping just slightly. "But you'll have to get used to things being about us. At least, that's what everyone else will expect starting next weekend."

Your pulse quickened, but you refused to show it. You kept your expression neutral, tilting your head just slightly. "Let's get one thing straight, this marriage may be inevitable, but that doesn't mean I have to like it."

San smiled -slow, dangerous, and entirely too pleased. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

That sentence alone had you rolling your eyes, trying to control yourself from slipping your tongue on how disgusted you were by that whole thing. 

You exhaled slowly, your fingers tightening around the strap of yourbag. "As long as you understand where we stand, this arrangement might work. We'll play the perfect couple for the public. But behind closed doors, we keep our distance until we sign the divorce papers. Simple."

San stepped closer, closing the space between you just enough to make your breath hitch. His cologne -warm and spicy- wrapped around you like an invisible trap. "Keep our distance?" he repeated, his voice low, almost amused. "Is that what you want? Because that's not what it looked like back at that business gala... when you couldn't stop staring."

As much as you wanted to deny it, your eyes were indeed on him the whole time. He was charming and captivating, it was impossible to move your eyes away from him. But that hypnosis lasted until his family came up with the idea of imposing that marriage on you. He lost all his charm just at that moment. 

You narrowed your eyes. "I was staring at the disaster unfolding around me, not at you."

San smirked, tilting his head. "Right. That's why your eyes followed me the entire night." he leaned in, his lips just a breath away from your ear. "You're good at playing it cold, Y/n. But I wonder how long you can keep that act up once we're married."

You refused to back down, your voice calm despite the spark of irritation in your chest. "I've dealt with men far more intimidating than you, San. Trust me, keeping you at arm's length won't be a challenge."

A flicker of something darker crossed his eyes -something almost dangerous. For a moment, the air between you felt heavy, charged with unspoken words and years of unresolved tension.

"Good," San finally said, his voice a whisper. "Keep trying to resist me. It'll make it that much more fun when you fail."

Your jaw tightened, and you took a step back, reclaiming the distance. "You're delusional if you think I'll ever fall for you."

San raised his eyebrows in amused awe as he took on the challenge. "We'll see, future Mrs. Choi. We've got a lifetime to test that theory."

You turned on your heel, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how his words affected you. But as you walked toward the door, you couldn't shake the feeling that San was right. The real challenge wasn't staying distant -it was making sure you didn't get burned by the fire between you.

"By the way, you mentioned divorce... didn't you?" your tracks stopped the second he mentioned that detail, hearing his heavy steps behind you as he approached his body. 

Slowly, you turned to him, unable to back down on your stance "That's what we agreed on."

"Some deals suffer changes as they have to meet different necessities, don't you think?" the way his eyebrows arched, while his lips pursed on a mocking grin almost had you losing your patience. "Divorce was ever on the plate? Because I don't think it was one of my conditions".

"No, it was one of mine" you spat back. "Either sign those divorce papers on good terms, or I'll drag you from one trial to another" San loved the challenge, he loved the way your eyes fixed on him to make sure he understood everything you were saying. 

"What if I don't want to sign them?"

"Then you'll have to find another dumbass to agree to get married to you" you rolled your eyes, thinking that would be the end of your conversation, but his fingers hooked on your elbow to stop you from walking away. 

You weren't sure exactly when he got so close, but you could feel the warm air escaping his nostrils on your cheeks. 

"Don't try to throw a fist at me" he stopped you. "You're so used to getting what you want, don't you? You pout a little, you act a little bitchy and daddy gives you all you want. Let me give you a spoiler: that won't work with me. The moment you're my wife, you'll do as I say. And if I say I don't want to get divorced, then you won't get those fucking papers". 

Your eyes started to water: rage, sadness, frustration... All those feelings were building up as you realized you got to a no-exit stop. Your plans were crumbling down, all your ideas were getting ruined, and all you could do was tighten your lips and open your eyes as much as possible so tears wouldn't escape with a blink. 

Daddy's girl? He had absolutely no idea. If you were living in such a perfect place, you wouldn't have agreed in the first place, but the fact that your parents -or people who gave you shelter when you needed it- agreed on engaging their daughter with a complete stranger for money should've given him enough of a hint of your reality. 

"Your choice" you managed to get rid of his grip. "Either sign those papers, or I'll make sure to tell everyone what all of this is about". 

"You won't. And you wanna know how I know?" he took one step closer to you. "I'll make your life a living hell if you do". 

"With what power?"

Your mocking tone was the last straw before he moved his hand from your elbow to your throat, wrapping his fingers around it and slamming your body against the wide door. 

"I don't need any power for that." his eyes were dark, his threat becoming a promise "Even if it's the last thing I do, I'll make you regret ever messing with me. So you better come with a pretty dress and the best of attitudes next weekend". He let go of your throat slowly, calmly placing his shirt properly "I know you'll make the best decision" he finally said. 

Your eyes were fixed on him, confused at how easily he let you go. And, somehow, his words were even scarier than his actions, because you could see the threat through them. 

The grand hall was filled with muted whispers and expectant gazes, the air thick with anticipation. The soft hum of violins played in the background, their melody delicate but almost haunting. The guests sat in rows beneath an arch of white roses and crystal chandeliers, their eyes flitting between the tall doors at the back of the aisle and San, who stood at the altar in his perfectly tailored black suit, waiting.

His fingers twitched at his sides as he stole a glance at the watch, sliding the sleeve of his jacket just a bit far up. 

Ten minutes late. Then fifteen. 

You weren't there.

He told himself you'd show up. You had to. But with each passing second, doubt sank its claws deeper into him. His heart pounded, and the polished facade he wore so well began to crack. Was this your way of backing out? A silent rebellion against a marriage neither of you had chosen? Were you actually telling the truth when you said you wouldn't show up if he didn't promise you a divorce? 

The doors remained closed, and San's jaw tightened. His father, seated in the front row, shot him a warning glance -one that practically screamed "Handle this".

Then, just as his patience teetered on the edge of collapse, the heavy doors finally creaked open.

A hush fell over the crowd.

And there you were.

You stood at the entrance in your wedding dress, the long veil trailing behind you, catching the soft light like a halo. For a moment, the room seemed to blur around you, everything fading except the heavy thud of your heart. You could feel every eye on you, the weight of their expectations pressing down on your chest, stealing the breath from your lungs.

Your feet felt like concrete as you took your first step. Hesitation rooted itself deep inside you, your body caught in a battle between instinct and obligation.

San watched you with an intensity that bordered on desperation. His dark eyes flickered with a thousand questions. You couldn't miss the way his shoulders tensed or how his lips pressed into a thin line, betraying the fear he was trying so hard to conceal.

Step by step, you made your way down the aisle, but each step felt heavier than the last. Doubt whispered cruelly in your ear. "You don't have to do this" you told yourself.

Your fingers clutched the bouquet so tightly that your knuckles turned white. You forced yourself forward, your gaze fixed ahead, refusing to meet San's eyes until you stood just a breath away from him.

"Finally," San muttered under his breath, his voice low enough for only you to hear. 

There was relief in his tone, but it was wrapped in a layer of frustration.

The officiant began to speak, his words echoing in the cavernous hall. You barely registered them, your mind a tangled mess of emotions. San's eyes never left yours. His expression was calm on the surface, but you could see the storm raging just beneath it: fear, frustration, and something dangerously close to longing.

"And now," the officiant said, his voice cutting through the fog in your mind, "if the bride and groom would like to exchange their vows."

San went first. His voice was steady, but the practiced words carried an unexpected weight, laced with sincerity that caught you off guard.

"I promise to protect you," he said, his gaze locking onto yours. "To stand beside you through whatever comes next. No matter what happens... I'm yours."

There was a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes -just a flash- but it was enough to send your heart lurching in your chest.

Then it was your turn. The officiant turned to you expectantly, waiting for your response.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came.

A heavy silence hung in the air. It stretched long enough to make the guests shift uncomfortably in their seats. Even the soft melody of the violins seemed to falter.

Everything you had prepared so mindfully disappeared at the feeling of being so watched, as if you were under watchful eye. You were sure it'd be obvious you weren't feeling either of the words you were pronouncing. 

San's fingers curled slightly at his sides, his eyes searching yours for a sign, for anything.

The officiant cleared his throat. "Do you, Y/n, take Choi San to be your lawfully wedded husband?" his tone was insistent, as if he wanted to get any words from you to get all of that over with. 

The pause that followed was suffocating. You felt San's breath catch, his entire body coiled tight, ready to unravel.

Although he hoped you wouldn't humiliate him that way, he saw you completely able to do it. 

Finally, you whispered the words.

"...I do."

Your voice was barely audible, a breath more than a declaration. But it was enough.

San exhaled, his shoulders relaxing, though the tension in his jaw remained. His eyes never left yours, dark and unreadable, as if trying to solve a puzzle with too many missing pieces.

The officiant smiled, oblivious to the war waging between the two of you. "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

San hesitated, just for a heartbeat, before leaning in. Your head immediately threw back slightly, enough for him to know you didn't want that kiss and make it seem like a shy move for the rest of the assistants. His hand found your waist -firm but not forceful- as he tilted his head and pressed his lips to yours.

The kiss was brief, calculated for the audience, but the heat of it lingered far longer than it should have. San had been daydreaming way too long about it to waste that chance. 

His lips were warm against yours, but there was something else beneath the surface. A question. A challenge.

When he pulled back, his eyes locked on yours once more. He didn't smile. Neither did you.

The applause from the crowd felt distant, like it belonged to another world entirely.

As the two of you turned to face the audience, San leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear.

"We're just getting started," he whispered, his voice dark with promise.

You kept your face neutral, your expression unreadable, but your pulse betrayed you, thudding wildly in your chest.

The reception was a spectacle of luxury and elegance, just as expected from a merger of two powerful families. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the grand hall, where hundreds of guests mingled, sipping champagne and exchanging polite congratulations.

You smiled and nodded your way through countless conversations, always keeping one eye on San. He was never far, and every time you saw him start toward you, you slipped between groups of guests or ducked behind another table.

You had managed to avoid him all night. At the cake-cutting ceremony, his hand had hovered near yours on the knife, holding tighter over your skin as you threatened to let the long sword slide from your fingers to his throat. And for a fleeting moment, you thought he might say something, yet he only smirked and moved closer to you. You were quick to turn away, disappearing into the crowd the moment the applause broke, trying to get away from him. 

San, however, was nothing if not persistent.

The moment you saw him again, his dark eyes locked onto yours from across the dance floor. This time, there was no escape. The crowd parted just enough for him to make his way toward you, his strides deliberate and confident.

"Running from me again?" he said when he reached you, his voice low, a challenge glinting in his eyes.

You lifted your chin, forcing your expression to stay composed. "I wasn't running. I was... mingling with the guests."

His lips curled into a smirk. "Right. Mingling." he offered his hand, palm open and waiting. "Well, it's time for the first dance, Mrs. Choi. You wouldn't want to disappoint our guests, would you?"

Your stomach tightened at the weight of his words. There was no getting out of this. Not without causing a scene.

With a quiet sigh, you slipped your hand into his. His fingers curled around yours, warm and firm, and you couldn't help but notice how easily they fit together.

The lights dimmed, and the soft melody of "You Are the Reason" by Calum Scott filled the air. A sweet, tender song -one that felt far too intimate for the situation, as if it was meant for two people who loved each other.

San led you to the center of the dance floor, his hand resting gently on your waist, pulling you just close enough to make your pulse stutter.

"I was starting to think you wouldn't show up today," he said softly, his voice barely audible over the music. His eyes searched yours, the teasing edge gone now, replaced by something far more serious. "You made me worried."

You swallowed, your gaze dropping for a split second before meeting his again. "I was... thinking things through."

His hand tightened slightly on your waist. "Did you change your mind at the last minute?"

For a moment, you didn't answer. The question hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. The song swelled around you, the lyrics wrapping around your heart like a bittersweet lullaby.

You knew hell would be nothing compared to your life if you didn't show up to the wedding. Not because of San or his family though, but your adoptive parents. The moment you twisted all of their plans, there would be no escape from it. 

At least with San you wouldn't owe anyone anything. Instead, you'd be the one they owe something to. 

San's eyes softened, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "If you had, I would've waited. I would've found another way."

Your breath hitched. His words caught you off guard -unexpected and disarming. For the first time that night, the wall you had so carefully built around yourself began to crack.

He seemed so genuine, so caring.

"I'm here now," you said, your voice steadier than you felt. "That's all that matters."

His gaze lingered on you for a long moment before he nodded. "Yeah. You're here."

The music continued, the world around you fading as you moved together in perfect synchrony. His touch was light yet grounding, his eyes never leaving yours.

For a fleeting second, you forgot about the crowd, the expectations, the tangled mess of your circumstances. It was just the two of you, swaying gently beneath the chandeliers, the lyrics of the song weaving a story neither of you was ready to admit aloud.

As the final notes faded, San leaned in just slightly, his voice a soft murmur against your ear.

"You can keep running all you want," he said, his breath warm on your skin. "But sooner or later, you'll stop. And when you do... I'll be right here, waiting."

You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. There was no smirk, no mask, just him.

The applause from the crowd broke the spell, and you quickly stepped back, your heart thudding painfully in your chest. San let you go, but his eyes stayed on you, dark and unreadable, as if daring you to run again.

And maybe you would. But for the first time, a small part of you wondered if running was really what you wanted. No, you stayed by his side, answering to his challenge with the same power he was showing off. 

The party blurred into a collection of clinking glasses, polite congratulations, and watchful eyes. Despite the sea of guests surrounding you, you felt like you were holding your breath the entire time. So when San leaned close and whispered, "Let's get out of here," you didn't argue. If he hadn't said it, you probably would've escaped by yourself. 

Now, the two of you sat in the back of a sleek black car, the hum of the city filling the silence between you. The driver navigated the streets with ease, the warm glow of streetlights flashing across the car's interior.

San sat beside you, his posture relaxed, but his eyes kept drifting toward your hand -the wedding ring glinting softly on your finger. He didn't bother hiding the fact that he was staring.

You caught him once, raising an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"

His gaze flicked up to meet yours, and for a second, something unreadable flashed across his face. "No," he said quietly. "Just getting used to the sight."

You turned your hand slightly, the light catching on the diamond. The ring was beautiful, of course -a complex design that was probably picked out by your parents and San's father rather than by either of you. It felt foreign on your finger, a constant reminder of the deal you'd made.

San's lips twitched into something that wasn't quite a smile. "It suits you," he said, his voice soft, almost contemplative.

You said nothing, turning your head to watch the city rush by through the window. San simply smirked, knowing that your silence was better than a sassy response from you. 

When the car finally pulled up to the luxury hotel, you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. The driver opened the door, and you stepped out, feeling the cool night air brush against your skin. San followed close behind, his hand hovering near the small of your back but never quite touching.

The suite was exactly what you expected -grand and luxurious, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a stunning view of the Brandenburg Gate. A bottle of champagne and a tray of chocolates waited on the marble table, while a large king-sized bed sat at the center of the room, draped in crisp white linens.

You set your bag down and turned to San, folding your arms across your chest. "I'll take the bed. You can sleep on the couch."

His eyebrows lifted slightly, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "The couch?"

"It's comfortable enough," you said, nodding toward the plush, oversized sofa near the window. "Plenty of space."

San took a step closer, his expression unreadable. "We're married now, remember? Sharing the bed won't kill us."

You scoffed lightly, crossing the room to stand by the couch. "Not happening." You glanced back at him, raising an eyebrow. "Fine. You take the bed. I'll sleep here." you rushed to say, feeling your energy consumed by the small talk you made with all the guests. 

"No." his response was immediate, his tone firm. "You're not sleeping on the couch."

"Then am I sleeping on the floor?" you arched an eyebrow "Because I won't sleep with you in the same bed".

You stared at him, daring him to argue further. But to your surprise, he sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "Alright. I'll sleep on the couch."

His sudden surrender caught you off guard. "Just like that?"

He smirked faintly, tossing his jacket onto a chair. "I'm not going to win this argument, am I?"

You watched him for a moment, suspicious of how easily he gave in, but ultimately decided not to push it. "Good. I'll get ready for bed."

As you disappeared into the bathroom, San sank onto the couch, leaning his head back against the cushions. He glanced at the wedding ring on his own hand, turning it slowly between his fingers. For all his confidence and charm, there was something strangely grounding about the weight of the band.

As much as that wasn't the way he wanted you to be by his side, it somehow made him feel good. 

When you returned, dressed in something far more comfortable than your wedding gown, San was already stretched out on the couch, one arm draped over his eyes.

"Comfortable?" you asked, standing by the bed.

He peeked at you from beneath his arm, his lips quivering into a faint smile. "I've had worse."

You rolled your eyes and climbed into bed, pulling the blankets up around you. For a few moments, silence filled the room, the only sound the soft hum of the city outside the windows.

Just as your eyes started to drift closed, you heard San's voice -quiet but clear in the darkness.

"Goodnight, Y/n."

You hesitated before responding, your voice soft. "Goodnight, San."

Neither of you said anything after that, but sleep didn't come easily. You lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling, painfully aware of his presence just a few feet away.

The distance between you felt both vast and dangerously fragile. And as the minutes stretched into hours, you couldn't help but wonder how long it would stay that way.

The morning started quietly -too quietly. You woke up, blinking against the soft morning light spilling into the room, only to find San already sitting on the couch, his phone in hand. His jacket was gone, and his dress shirt, slightly wrinkled from the night before, was unbuttoned at the collar. He looked far too relaxed for someone who had spent the night on a couch after your wedding.

"Good morning," he said, his eyes flicking to yours the second you stirred. His voice was calm, but there was something smug lurking just beneath the surface, as if he was already one step ahead of you.

You rubbed your eyes, forcing yourself to sound composed. "Morning."

A few beats of silence passed, too long to be comfortable.

"You were tossing and turning last night," San said casually, stretching his arms behind his head. "Couldn't sleep?"

"I slept just fine," you lied, standing and heading for your bag. You could feel his eyes on your every move, sharp and assessing.

"You sure? You sounded restless." his voice was smooth, laced with amusement.

You froze, giving him a flat look. "Were you listening to me sleep?"

He grinned, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "It's hard not to when someone mutters 'This is a mistake' at 2 a.m."

Your face heated. "I did not..."

"You did." his smirk widened. "I thought about waking you up to ask what you meant, but I figured I'd let you dream about it instead."

You crossed your arms, your patience wearing thin. "Thanks for your consideration, San."

"Anything for you, love," he said, drawing out the word with deliberate sarcasm.

"You've really mastered being annoying, haven't you?" you shot back, heading toward the closet.

"Years of practice," he said, standing up and stretching, his shirt riding up just enough to reveal a sliver of skin. "You'll get used to it."

You rolled your eyes, yanking open your suitcase with unnecessary force. "God forbid."

San chuckled under his breath, walking over to lean casually against the wall beside you. "You can deny it all you want, but deep down, you like this."

You turned to glare at him. "Like what?"

"This," he said, gesturing between the two of you. "The bickering. The back-and-forth. Admit it, it's fun."

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. "San, not everything is a game. And if you think this -whatever this is- counts as fun, then we're going to have a very long, very difficult marriage."

He tilted his head, pretending to think. "A long marriage... Sounds like you're planning to stick around. It does sound really good to me."

"Oh my god," you muttered, turning on your heel. "I can't do this right now."

You stalked toward the bathroom, determined to get a moment's peace.

"You're already giving up?" he called after you. "We've been married for less than 24 hours, Y/n!"

"I'm not giving up. I'm taking a shower," you snapped, slamming the bathroom door shut.

The water was a relief, washing away some of the tension, but your frustration lingered like a storm cloud. And then, halfway through shampooing your hair, you realized something.

You forgot to bring clothes.

You let out a frustrated groan, rinsing the shampoo quickly before wrapping yourself in a towel. The last thing you wanted was to ask San for help, so you cracked the door open and peeked out.

He was still there, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, clearly waiting for your return like some smug predator.

Of course.

You squared your shoulders and stepped out, keeping your head high as you made your way toward the bag.

San's eyes found you immediately, sweeping over your damp hair and the towel wrapped tightly around you. He didn't even try to hide it.

"Forgot something?" his voice was low and teasing.

"Not a word," you warned, grabbing your clothes.

But before you could escape back to the bathroom, his hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. His fingers were warm, firm, and far too steady for someone who was enjoying this way too much.

"Why bother going back?" he said softly, his voice dropping into that dangerously calm tone that always made your pulse race. "You're already here."

You tightened your grip on your towel. "Let me go, San."

His eyes darkened, his thumb brushing against your wrist in a slow, deliberate motion. "Why? What's the big deal? We're married now, remember?"

Your breath caught, but you forced your voice to stay steady. "I'm not afraid of you, if that's what you're thinking."

He leaned in just slightly, his lips curving into a smirk. "Then prove it. Get changed right here." His gaze dropped for a split second before meeting yours again, his voice barely a whisper. "Unless you're shy."

Your heart thundered in your chest, heat rushing to your face. "I'm not shy."

You weren't shy, but you didn't like the way your body was reacting to his voice, to his petition and his proximity. And you certainly didn't want him to see it so clearly either. 

"Then go ahead," he said, his voice practically daring you.

You glared at him, yanking your wrist free. "Turn around."

"I'm not turning around" he sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. "What's the fun of it if I can't see you?"

He was trying to intimidate you, challenge you to do something he thought you wouldn't dare to do, so he could then tease you about it. 

Two could play that game. 

You placed the clothes on the bed, next to where he was. Taking one step back, your hands were placed on both edges of the towel, slowly undoing the knot to let it pool at your feet. San gulped thick at the sight, not expecting you to actually get naked in front of him, and even less that way, and it gave you a pinch of pride at how nervous he looked for a second. 

You didn't need to do anything, just that stare and the sight of your body alone was enough to awaken the most primal needs. His body responded to you, even if it had been just a second he saw you. Your humid skin, the way some drops fell from your hair and rolled down the curve of your breast to get to your hardened nipple. His mouth was watering just with the need of tasting you. 

San blinked, confused at the way your hand was stretched out for him, "The panties" you mentioned as if it were obvious. 

His hand moved to his left, grabbing the fabric to hand it out to you. You put them on torturously slow, covering your lower half to snap your fingers and asking him for your bra. Placing the strips on your shoulders, you turned to him, your body fitting perfectly in between his semi-parted legs as you silently asked him to tie the clasp. 

Shivers ran through your body at the contact of the reverse of his fingers on your skin, his touch holding on longer than necessary, just because he liked the way you felt as he touched you a little bit too much. 

You didn't need to ask, because San moved to the next item the moment you stepped away. 

He should've seen it coming for him when he saw you lifting your feet, placing it on his thigh -way too close to a place where he needed you like crazy. Your fingers moved calmly, sliding the tight over your leg, up the curve of your knee, moving it past your thigh. Yet San could only focus on how your warmth spread over his skin like wildfire, making him feel you were touching him in places you were not. 

When you finally stepped back to put on the other side of the tight, and the rest of clothes, San felt like he could breathe again, his control coming back to him when he was able to think straight -which also happened when you were fully clothed again. 

You thought he'd hesitate or act shy, but instead his cocky attitude came back as he stood up, the height difference becoming obvious again as he towered over you. 

"See how it isn't that difficult to be a good girl?" he muttered, just loud enough for you to hear.

You'd have thrown a shoe at him if he hadn't hidden inside the bathroom immediately after airing out that response. 

He was insufferable. 

The car ride to San's house was quiet, tense, and far too long for your liking. The morning sun bathed the streets in gold, but it did nothing to lighten the atmosphere inside the vehicle. San sat beside you, one arm draped lazily across the back of the seat, his eyes occasionally drifting toward you as you stared resolutely out the window.

He had been surprisingly well-behaved since the towel incident, keeping his teasing remarks to a minimum -though his occasional glances were enough to keep you on edge.

When the car finally pulled up in front of his house, your eyes widened slightly. House was an understatement. It was a sprawling modern estate with sleek glass panels, sharp architectural lines, and an air of quiet luxury. 

"Home sweet home," San said, stepping out of the car and holding the door open for you with a half-smirk.

You stepped out, clutching your overnight bag tightly. "Big enough so we won't have to see each other for a whole day"

"Thanks for noticing," he quipped. "Come on. I'll give you the grand tour."

You followed him up the steps, trying not to be too impressed as you took in the pristine interior-marble floors, minimalist décor, and massive windows that flooded the space with light.

"Kitchen's over there," San said, gesturing toward an open-concept area with gleaming countertops. "Dining room, living room... you know, standard rich-guy stuff."

"Right," you said dryly. "Because this is completely normal."

He glanced back at you with a grin. "You'll get used to it." the mockery on his tone, knowing damn too well you were used to all that luxury and more, shouldn't have been as funny as it seemed for you. 

You rolled your eyes, walking a little faster to avoid his gaze. The tension from earlier was still there, simmering just beneath the surface, but it was muted now, replaced by an odd sense of anticipation.

"Upstairs," San said, leading you to the second floor. You followed him down a hallway lined with modern artwork and huge windows, your footsteps echoing softly on the hardwood floors.

He stopped in front of a door near the end of the hallway and turned to you. "This is your room."

You blinked, caught off guard. "My... room?"

San nodded, his expression unreadable. "I figured you'd want your own space."

Your hand tightened around the strap of your bag. For a moment, you didn't know what to say. You had fully expected him to make some smug comment about sharing a bed -or worse, insist on it. But there he was, offering you something you hadn't dared to hope for: distance.

"Thanks," you said quietly, stepping into the room. It was beautiful -spacious, with a king-sized bed, soft cream-colored walls, and a large window that overlooked the shared garden of the building. There was even an en-suite bathroom with a walk-in shower and a deep soaking tub.

You indeed wouldn't need to get out there, except to eat. 

"Your things are in the closet" he started. "You didn't bring a lot of things, so I guess you'll bring the rest later?"

"No, that's it" you whispered. 

San stopped for a second, shocked about the fact that you only brought a medium suitcase and the bag you were carrying to pack up all of your things. It wasn't like he was expecting a full suitcase display from you, but certainly not something so minimal. 

"I'll be down the hall if you need anything," San said, lingering in the doorway. His eyes softened, his earlier bravado fading just a little. "Seriously. Anything."

For a brief second, the air between you shifted. He wasn't teasing or smug. He just looked... sincere.

You hesitated, feeling the strange urge to say something more, but the words caught in your throat. Instead, you gave him a small nod. "I'll be fine."

He smiled faintly, stepping back. "Alright. Settle in. I'll see you downstairs."

As he walked away, you closed the door and leaned against it, exhaling slowly.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

But then again, with San, nothing ever stayed calm for long.

The first month of marriage was nothing short of a battlefield.

It didn't take long for every small interaction to turn into a heated argument. San always had something to say -sharp and sarcastic, ready to push your buttons at every opportunity. You were no better, meeting his smug remarks with icy glares and curt responses. It became a game, a war of words and wills, with neither of you willing to surrender.

There were good moments, but they were fleeting. It started with you finding out San filled up your closet with different clothes and accessories, adding up to the small suitcase you first brought. And it slowly evolved into a laugh shared over breakfast when San nearly burned his toast. A surprisingly comfortable evening spent watching a movie in silence, where the tension seemed to ease just a little. But those moments were always overshadowed by the endless tug-of-war that followed.

It was exhausting, that constant dance of hostility and fleeting truce.

Every day felt like a test of who could push the other further without breaking. The house, despite its size, felt stifling. His presence lingered in every room -a constant reminder that your marriage was nothing more than a cage disguised as luxury.

And today, you'd had enough.

The argument started in the kitchen that morning, over something as trivial as a set of misplaced car keys. It escalated far too quickly, voices rising, accusations flying.

"You always think you can control everything," you snapped, crossing your arms.

San leaned against the counter, his jaw tightening. "Control? I'm trying to help you, but you treat everything I say like it's some personal attack."

"Because it always is!" you threw up your hands in frustration. "You don't know how to back off, San! You just keep pushing and pushing... Fuck, you don't let me breathe!"

"Maybe because you keep running away instead of facing things!" his voice dropped, low and sharp. "You're so obsessed with shutting me out that you can't even see when someone's trying to meet you halfway."

You stared at him, chest heaving, words caught in your throat. For a second, neither of you moved. The silence felt heavier than the argument itself.

Then, without a word, you turned on your heel and stormed upstairs. You needed air, space, anything to escape that suffocating cycle.

In your room, you grabbed a coat and your purse, your hands trembling with frustration. Your eyes caught on your wedding ring, glinting in the sunlight. The sight of it only fueled the fire burning in your chest.

You slipped it off, the cool metal unfamiliar without the warmth of your skin beneath it. For a moment, you stared at the ring in your palm, your thoughts a chaotic swirl of emotions.

Then you set it on the dresser and walked out of the room, not bothering to look back.

San was still in the kitchen when you came back down, his back to you. You didn't say a word as you grabbed your keys from the counter and headed for the front door.

The sound of your footsteps must have caught his attention because he turned around, his eyes narrowing. "Where are you going?"

"Out," you said shortly, not slowing down.

"Without your ring?" his voice was calm, too calm. It sent a shiver down your spine.

You paused, hand on the door handle, refusing to turn around. "I need some time alone."

"And you think taking off your ring is the way to do that?" his footsteps echoed behind you, slow and deliberate. "Is this your idea of freedom?"

You finally turned to face him, meeting his eyes head-on. "What does it matter? It's not like this marriage is real anyway."

The words hung in the air, heavy and final.

For the first time in weeks, San didn't have a quick response. He just looked at you, his jaw clenched, his eyes dark with something you couldn't quite place -hurt, maybe, or anger, or both.

"If you walk out that door without it," he said quietly, "don't expect me to come looking for you."

The threat was clear, but it only made your resolve stronger.

"Good," you said, voice steady. "That's exactly what I want."

And with that, you opened the door and stepped outside, the cool air hitting your face like a slap.

As you walked toward your car, your heart pounded in your chest. Part of you expected him to follow, to stop you. But when you glanced back, the door was already closed.

Maybe he didn't care enough to stop you after all. Although you wouldn't think too much about it. The more he ignored you, the more freedom you'd have. 

The bar was harmonized with a low hum of conversation and soft music filling the air. You had no plan when you walked in -just an overwhelming need to be anywhere but at that house. You found a spot at the bar, ordering a drink and savoring the temporary escape it promised.

The alcohol warmed your throat and dulled the frustration swirling in your chest. One drink turned into two, and for the first time in weeks, you felt like you could breathe again.

"You look like you could use some company."

You glanced up to see a man standing beside you, his smile easy and confident. His eyes lingered on you just a little too long.

"Not really," you said, turning back to your drink.

"Come on, don't be like that," he said, leaning in closer. "It's just a conversation. You shouldn't be alone in a place like this."

"I'm fine," you insisted, but he didn't seem to get the hint.

The air shifted before you could say anything else, a new presence filling the space behind you.

"She's not alone."

You froze at the familiar voice, low and commanding. Turning slightly, you found yourself face-to-face with San. His dark eyes were locked on the man, his jaw tight, his entire body radiating quiet danger.

The man raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "And who are you?"

San's lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. "Her husband."

The word hung in the air like a gunshot, silencing everything around you.

The man's eyes flicked between the two of you, suddenly less confident. "Right... well, my mistake." he backed away with a muttered apology, disappearing into the crowd.

Your heart was pounding, though you weren't sure if it was from the alcohol or the way San's eyes hadn't left you once.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, trying to sound unaffected.

"I could ask you the same thing," he said, his voice calm but laced with barely restrained frustration. "But I guess taking off your ring and disappearing without a word answers that for me."

"I needed space," you said, crossing your arms. "You don't own me, San."

His eyes darkened. "You're right. I don't. But I'm still your husband. If you disappear in the middle of the night, I'll come looking for you. And if some creep thinks he can hit on you, then I'm going to do something about it."

You rolled your eyes, the alcohol emboldening you. "So this is about your ego?"

He took a step closer, the tension crackling between you. "No. It's about the fact that I care, whether you want to believe it or not."

His words caught you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless.

"Let's go," he said, his tone softening just a fraction. "It's late."

"I'm not going anywhere," you said stubbornly, turning back toward the bar.

San let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. "Fine. You want to be difficult? Have it your way."

Before you could react, his arm looped around your waist, and in one swift motion, he threw you over his shoulder like it was the easiest thing in the world.

"San!" you gasped, pounding your fists against his back. "Put me down!"

"Not a chance," he muttered, already weaving his way through the crowd. Heads turned, curious eyes following the scene as you squirmed in his grip. "You brought this on yourself."

"San, I swear to God..."

"You can yell all you want," he said calmly. "We're leaving."

Once outside, the cool night air hit you like a slap, but it did little to cool the heat rising in your cheeks -from anger or embarrassment, you weren't sure. San carried you all the way to his car, finally setting you down beside it.

"You're insane," you snapped, your breath coming fast as you straightened your clothes.

"Maybe," he said, stepping closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "I thought you'd have learned to love it by now."

For a moment, you stood there, caught in a standoff.

"Get in the car," he said softly, but there was no mistaking the authority in his voice.

Your pride told you to refuse, to stand your ground and make this even more difficult. But something about the intensity in his eyes made you falter.

Wordlessly, you opened the car door and got in, your pulse still racing.

San slid into the driver's seat, starting the car without another word. The ride home was silent, the air between you charged with tension. You could feel his occasional glances, the way his hands tightened around the steering wheel every time your bare finger caught the light.

The ride home was silent. He didn't speak, and neither did you. But the weight of everything unsaid filled the car, pressing down on you both.

When you pulled up in front of the building, San finally broke the silence.

"I'm not going to pretend I know what you're thinking," he said, his voice low. "But if you want to leave, really leave, just say it. I'll let you go."

You turned to look at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his eyes. It was the first time you'd seen him drop his guard like this.

But instead of answering, you opened the door and stepped out, your heart pounding in your chest.

San stayed in the car for a moment before following you inside. Neither of you said a word as you climbed the stairs, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

When you reached your room, you paused in the doorway, glancing back at him.

"Goodnight," you said softly, your voice barely audible.

For once, San didn't have a clever comeback. He just nodded, his eyes lingering on you a little longer than they should have.

"Goodnight," he echoed, his voice rough around the edges.

As you closed the door behind you, you couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between you -something neither of you was ready to admit yet.

The tension between you and San had been palpable since that night. Every word, every glance, felt like a battle -a silent war that neither of you was willing to lose. And just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, you found yourself trapped at one of his company's lavish parties, drowning in champagne and meaningless small talk.

It wasn't your kind of crowd. Polished executives and their equally polished partners swirled around you, exchanging pleasantries and hollow laughs. Being the accessory of the main character of the party wasn't your thing at all. You stood near the bar, sipping your drink, counting down the minutes until you could escape. 

That's when you saw him, San, standing at the center of a group of people, commanding their attention with ease. He was dressed in a sharp black suit, his hair perfectly styled, exuding the kind of confidence that made it impossible to look away.

And then you noticed her.

She was standing beside him, too close, her hand resting lightly on his arm as she laughed at something he said. A striking woman in a sleek red dress, her eyes sparkled with something far more than professional interest.

Your grip on your glass tightened as you watched her lean in, whispering something into his ear. To your horror, San didn't pull away. Instead, he turned toward her with a slow smile, his eyes dropping deliberately to her lips before meeting hers again.

It was a calculated move -one meant for your benefit. You knew it. He knew it.

Your stomach twisted, a mix of anger and something far more dangerous bubbling in your chest. But you refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Not here. Not in front of everyone.

You turned your back to him, willing yourself to focus on the conversation happening nearby. It was meaningless chatter, something about stock prices, but you latched onto it, pretending you didn't notice the way your pulse was racing.

"Jealous, love?"

The voice was low and teasing, right behind you. You didn't need to turn to know who it was.

"Hardly," you said, taking a sip of your drink without looking at him. "Do what you want. I couldn't care less."

"Is that so?" San stepped into your line of vision, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Because it looked like you were about two seconds away from throwing your drink at her."

"More like two seconds away from smacking this glass on your head" you finally sentenced. 

"That does sound like someone who's jealous"

You forced a smile, meeting his gaze head-on. "Please. If I wanted to make a scene, you'd know it."

San chuckled, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper meant only for you. "Careful, Y/n. You might give me the wrong idea: that you actually care about me and what I do."

Your pulse jumped, but you refused to let him win. "Trust me, I don't." you narrowed your eyes while looking at him "Just be careful of how you behave in front of everyone. We're still married. In private, do whatever the fuck you please". 

His smile was slow, almost predatory. "Good. Because I'd hate for you to get hurt playing a game you can't win."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, breathless and furious.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. You couldn't stop watching him: laughing, smiling, always with her by his side. Each glance felt like a deliberate push, a challenge to see how far you'd let him go.

By the time the party started winding down, you'd had enough. You grabbed your purse and made your way toward the exit, your steps quick and determined.

But before you could leave, a hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

"Running away again?" San's voice was calm, but his grip was firm.

"Let go," you said, your voice low and dangerous.

"Not until you admit it." His eyes locked onto yours, the amusement gone, replaced by something far more serious.

"Admit what?"

"That you care," he said simply.

You yanked your wrist free, your eyes burning with fury. "You're unbelievable."

"And yet, here you are," San said softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "Still standing in front of me". You didn't know when he stepped so close that your chests were pressed together and your breaths were mixing between you two "I'm only yours, love. You just need to ask me, and I'll declare to you my love without thinking twice". 

For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade, the party noise a distant hum. You hated how close he was, how easily he could get under your skin.

But you refused to give him what he wanted. Not tonight.

Without another word, you turned and walked away, ignoring the way your heart was pounding in your chest.

The car ride back was suffocatingly quiet. The air between you felt like a loaded gun, ready to go off at the slightest provocation. San's hands rested on the steering wheel, his jaw clenched, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. You sat stiffly in the passenger seat, arms crossed, staring out the window in stubborn silence.

The tires crunched on the gravel as the car came to a stop in front of the building. You didn't wait for him to say anything -didn't even glance his way as you pushed the door open and strode toward the front entrance.

But the sound of his footsteps trailing behind you, steady and deliberate, made your pulse quicken.

You barely made it inside when San's voice cut through the silence.

"Care to explain what that little stunt at the party was all about?" his tone was deceptively calm, but the underlying tension was unmistakable.

You spun around, glaring at him. "Are you seriously accusing me of something after what you pulled tonight? Flirting with her right in front of me?"

San smirked, stepping closer. "You noticed."

"Of course I noticed!" you snapped, your voice rising. "You made sure I would."

He shrugged, his eyes gleaming with something dangerous. "Maybe. But you didn't have to leave the party like that, running off again like you always do. It's getting old, Y/n."

"Maybe it's because I can't stand being around you," you shot back, your voice trembling slightly with the force of your anger. "Did you think of that?"

San tilted his head, studying you. "No," he said quietly, stepping even closer until there was barely any space between you. "I think you left because it bothered you. Because for once, you didn't have control, and it drove you crazy."

Your breath hitched, but you refused to back down. "You think too highly of yourself."

"Do I?" his voice was a whisper now, low and deliberate, each word wrapping around you like a challenge. "Then why are you shaking?"

You hated him for being right. Hated how easily he could strip away every layer of defense you had built.

"I'm not..."

"You are," he interrupted, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "And it's not because you're angry. It's because you feel something."

You opened your mouth to protest, but no words came out.

His eyes dropped to your lips for the briefest moment before locking onto yours again. "Tell me I'm wrong, and I'll back off," he said softly. "Tell me you don't feel anything, and I'll stop."

You stared at him, your heart pounding so hard it was almost painful.

But you couldn't say it.

The words wouldn't come.

San's smile was slow and triumphant. "That's what I thought."

He turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, breathless and furious, your skin still burning from his touch.

"You're insufferable," you called after him, but your voice wavered, the heat of your frustration blending with something far more dangerous.

San stopped mid-step, his back still to you. For a split second, you thought he'd ignore you, that he'd let you stew in your own whirlwind of emotions.

But then he turned, slow and deliberate, his dark eyes locking onto yours like a predator sizing up its prey. His steps were measured, each one bringing him closer, the air between you thick with electricity.

"You know what's really insufferable?" his voice was low, almost a growl. "The way you keep running. The way you keep fighting me when we both know exactly how this will end."

Your breath caught in your throat as he came to a stop just inches from you, his body radiating warmth, his presence overwhelming.

"I'm not running," you said, though it sounded more like a whisper than the firm declaration you intended.

His hand reached out, fingers brushing against your jaw, tilting your face up toward him. His touch was light, almost teasing, but it sent a jolt of heat racing through you.

The space between you disappeared in a heartbeat. His lips crashed against yours, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis. The kiss was anything but gentle -wild, desperate, and filled with every bit of frustration and desire that had built up between you.

Your hands found their way to his chest, clutching the fabric of his shirt as if it were the only thing grounding you. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you flush against him, his grip possessive and unrelenting.

It felt better than anything neither of you could've ever imagined. It wasn't just a kiss -it was a battle, a collision of everything you didn't say, everything you'd tried to ignore. 

His lips moved against yours with an urgency that made your head spin, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before deepening the kiss. You gasped when he sank his tongue in your mouth, quickly meeting yours at the same time he cornered you on the wall next to the door, his hand gently cupping the back of your head before moving it back to your neck. 

You hated him for making you feel this way, for always knowing how to push you to the edge and catch you before you fell. 

But at that moment, you couldn't bring yourself to care.

When you finally pulled back, your breaths were ragged, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes searched yours, dark and unreadable, his chest rising and falling in time with yours.

"Say it," San whispered, his voice rough and breathless. "Say you don't feel anything."

You stayed silent, your lips still tingling from his kiss.

But the way your hands lingered on his chest, the way your body leaned into his, spoke louder than any words ever could.

He took your silence as the perfect answer, smirking to himself before he linked your lips together again. His fingers sank in your hair at the back of your head, twirling them on some locks to pull from them and throw your head to the side as he kissed you down your neck. 

"You're absolutely everything I've ever fucking dreamed of" he heavily whispered on your skin. "I want to admire you, worship your body and make love to you so you'd meet a devotion you had never seen in your life. But hell... when you look at me that way..." his thumb brushed over your cheekbone "I want to ruin you so bad, show you no one will fuck you so good to make your ears beep so loud you won't be hearing your own pleas when you ask me to stop".

Your kiss grew more passionate, your breaths coming in ragged gasps, when he kissed you again. His hands began to wander, tracing the curve of your back, the swell of your hips. You could feel the hardness of his body against yours, and it sent a thrill through you, craving for something you didn't know you were desperate for. You moaned softly into his mouth, pressing yourself against him, at the same time his hands held your hips to keep your body glued to him. 

San broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck again, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. You arched my back, a soft sigh escaping your lips, when his fingers brushed against the little skin that was shown off through the cleavage of your dress. It frustrated you, but it also felt so good the way your body responded to his touch without a resistance, your nipples hardening against the fabric of your bra, your entrance clenching around nothing as you kept waiting to feel him inside you. 

When he looked down at you once again, his hands moved down to the zip of your dress, his thumb brushing on your skin while his other fingers slid the material down. He didn't need to ask you, he didn't need to tell you, you helped him take off your dress. 

His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, his breath hitching. You were definitely better than he could've ever imagined. No light pajamas would ever compare to the vision in front of him. 

You reached for the hem of his black shirt, pulling from the buttons to reveal his toned chest. San had to hold back the growl in his throat when you ran your fingers over the muscles, feeling the heat of his skin, making him sure your fingerprints were burning every inch you were moving through. 

He wasn't going to let you take control so easily though. 

He lowered his head all of a sudden, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth through the lace of your bra. You gasped, your hands fisting in his hair as a way to control your own self. He teased and suckled, his other hand cupping your breast before he dragged his fingers down with the fabric, exposing the flesh, his thumb rubbing against your nipple before he pinched it with his index. You could feel the wetness pooling between your legs, your body aching for more.

San slipped the straps of your bra off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. He took his time, exploring every inch of your body with his mouth and hands. He made you squirm beneath him, he filled your head with pleas you never thought would ever be aimed at him, your body was on fire for him.

You reached for his belt, unbuckling it slowly. He lifted his hips to help you, his jeans and boxers coming off in one swift motion. You looked down at him, your eyes widening at the sight of his hard length. He was thick and long, the tip glistening with pre-cum. You licked your lips when a sudden urge to taste him overwhelmed you. Was it how sexy he actually was? Or how bad you wanted him to beg for you and finally accept you were in control? Maybe both? 

You leaned down on your knees, not wasting a moment before taking him into your mouth. He groaned, his hands tangling in your hair as your tongue swirled around him. You sucked and licked, your head bobbing up and down at a tortuous speed. You could feel him getting harder, his hips thrusting gently. You took him deeper when he pushed you lower, your nose brushing against his skin to look up to him. 

And hell, if that image wasn't the best sight ever...

He pulled you up with one swift motion, your lips still parted to the size of his length when he crashed his lips against yours again. Your back slammed against the door, and your head banged against it the moment he pulled your panties down and slid two fingers in you. His thumb brushed over your clit gently, slowly, which was opposite to the way his curved digits moved and rubbed against your walls. 

He earned another moan from you, and his cock twitched in the air against your body once more. 

"Who do you belong to, Y/n? Who owns you now?" his voice was thick and raspy as he whispered. His voice was a mix of cockiness and need to prove you always belonged to him. 

The moment you tried to move your head forward to rest on his shoulder, his fingers wrapped around your throat and stuck your head against the wood to keep your eyes fixed on him. 

You didn't know what to do with your arms, how to keep yourself on your feet, but you did know you had to keep your eyes fixed on him. 

"My love" he almost sang when he felt the way your walls clenched around him and your clit throbbing "I've only been yours" his digits squeezed your throat tighter, unaware of how that dragged you closer to your orgasm. 

Your body squirmed and folded under his grip when that hurricane hit you, yet he didn't stop. His movements were more delicate and slower, but he fingered you through your orgasm until he felt your breathing settling again. 

Your lips were parted when his wet fingers slid through them, and you blindly obeyed, closing your mouth around his digits to lick every drop of his work of art. San barely gave you time to let go of them before his lips crashed against yours again, his tongue looking out for yours to taste you directly on it. 

You were so addictive. 

San picked you up effortlessly, humming at your legs wrapping around his waist, as he made his way to his bedroom. 

When he let you down on his mattress, he couldn't help but admire the way your naked skin stood out so clearly while lying over his sheets, dying to twirl his fingers on those locks spread over his pillow. You brought in him a feral attitude he didn't know was so strong. 

You looked up to him, eager for what was to come, your body ready to jump as he kneeled on the bed and crawled to you. His hands parted your legs easily, resting your calves on his thighs when he redirected his length to you. 

He rubbed the head of his cock against your clit, making your moan. "You're so wet," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "Will you let me fill you up? Hmm?" he looked up to you while still rubbing himself against you "Let me mark you now that you've finally accepted that you're mine". 

His words, the idea, the look in his eyes... all of them influenced you to finally nod. 

He slid into you slowly, his eyes locked on yours. You gasped, your body stretching to accommodate him. He felt big, bigger than you could've guessed when you took him in your mouth. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, until your hips met and you both moaned with relief. 

You stayed like that for a few seconds, giving the two of you time to get used to each other before he began to move, his hips thrusting against yours. The sound of your bodies coming together filled the room, your moans and gasps echoing around you. You could feel every inch of him, the sensation overwhelming.

"You feel so good," he groaned, his forehead resting against yours. "So tight and wet." he rubbed his nose on yours. "It was really worth it to wait for you".

You clung to him, your nails digging into his back. "Harder," you whispered, your body aching for more.

He obliged, his thrusts becoming faster and deeper. The bed creaked beneath you, the sound of your bodies slapping together filling the room. You could feel your orgasm building, your body tensing in anticipation.

He reached between you, his fingers finding your clit at the same time his lips found your mouth. He rubbed it in time with his thrusts, sending you spiraling over the edge. You cried out, your body convulsing around him as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

He continued to move, his own body tensing as he chased his own release. You felt him getting harder, his thrusts becoming more erratic. With a final thrust, he groaned, his body shaking as he came deep inside you, his load hitting a deep spot. 

You lay there for a moment, your bodies slick with sweat, your breaths ragged. He rolled off you, pulling you into his arms. And as much as that feeling felt foreign, you didn't push it away. Instead, you snuggled closer to him. 

The weeks after that night were nothing like the stormy start of your marriage. Slowly, without even realizing it, you began to lower your defenses. San softened in his own way, his sharp-edged words losing their sting, replaced by warm glances and lingering touches.

It wasn't love -at least, that's what you told yourself- but it was something dangerously close. You found comfort in his presence, in the late-night conversations you shared after you agreed on sharing bed with him, the stolen moments of laughter, and the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the world when he looked at you.

The night he was officially named the head of the company, the entire building was alive with celebration. People congratulated him left and right, raising glasses in his honor, praising his charm, his brilliance, and his unstoppable rise to power. You stood by his side, smiling softly as he greeted his investors and thanked his board.

But despite the glamour, something felt off. San was different -detached, colder than usual, like the man you first met. He didn't seem to notice your growing unease.

Later that evening, after slipping away for a moment to get some air, you made your way down a quieter hallway in the building. As you rounded a corner, voices stopped you in your tracks.

It was San's.

"You're really settling into this husband role, huh?" the voice was familiar -Wooyoung’'s, you realized after a second. 

His tone was light and teasing, but it was what came next that made your blood run cold.

San let out a low chuckle. "Don't get carried away. This marriage means nothing. It was a deal, plain and simple. I finally got what I wanted"

There was a pause, followed by the sound of a glass clinking.

"And the rest?" Wooyoung asked, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "Sleeping with her?"

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart hammering painfully in your chest.

"That's just part of the game," San said casually, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Keeping her close keeps everything in control. She's predictable now. She's exactly where I need her."

Your vision blurred, your mind racing to process what you'd just heard. Every moment you'd spent with him, every touch, every whispered word in the dark -it had all been a lie. A calculated move in a game you didn't even know you were playing.

The sound of their laughter echoed down the hallway, cutting into you like a blade.

You turned and walked away before they could notice you, your steps quick and unsteady. Your chest ached, a painful mix of anger and heartbreak constricting your lungs.

By the time you reached the main hall, the noise of the party felt like a distant hum, your surroundings spinning as you tried to catch your breath.

You thought you had started to know him. You thought maybe, just maybe, there was something real between you.

But you were wrong.

You were nothing more than a pawn in his game -a game you never agreed to play.

The rest of the night at the party, you avoided him like the plague, your attitude a huge contrast to how you behaved when the night had started. Whenever San tried to approach you, you found an excuse to step away -chatting with guests, refreshing your drink, even pretending to admire the floral arrangements like they were the most fascinating thing in the world.

"Y/n" his voice caught you off guard as you lingered near the exit, your hand brushing the stem of an untouched champagne flute. San's dark eyes studied you, his brow furrowed in concern. "What's going on? You've been distant all night."

"I'm just tired," you said flatly, forcing a tight smile. "It's been a long day."

His frown deepened, but he didn't press further. Not yet.

The ride home was quiet -tense in a way that made the air between you feel suffocating. San sat beside you, his eyes occasionally flicking toward you, as if waiting for you to explain what was wrong. But you kept your gaze fixed out the window, your thoughts swirling in chaos.

Once you were back home, you made a beeline for the stairs, wanting nothing more than to put distance between you as you closed yourself back in your room. 

"Y/n" his voice was sharp now, demanding. You stopped halfway up the stairs, your hand gripping the banister tightly. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

You turned slowly, meeting his gaze. The man you had once started to trust, the one who had held you so tenderly just nights ago, now felt like a stranger.

"I want a divorce."

The words fell from your lips with a finality that hung heavy in the air.

San froze, his eyes widening for a split second before narrowing dangerously. "What did you just say?"

"You heard me," you said, your voice calm despite the storm raging inside you. "You finally got what you wanted. You're head of the company now. There's no need to keep up this farce anymore."

His jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "Is that what you think? That this was all just some business arrangement, and now it's over?"

"Isn't it?" you shot back, your voice rising. "You've gotten everything you wanted, San. There's no point in pretending anymore."

"You're unbelievable," he growled, stepping closer. "You want to throw everything away just like that? After everything we've been through?"

You laughed bitterly. "What exactly have we been through, San? Lies? Manipulation? This marriage was never real. It was just a means to an end for you."

His eyes darkened, his lips pressing into a thin line. "And what if it wasn't?"

You crossed your arms, refusing to let him sway you. "It doesn't matter. I'm done."

"You're not done," he said, his voice low and dangerously calm. "You don't get to decide that impulsively."

"It's not an impulse," you snapped. "This was part of our deal since the beginning. I've made up my mind."

San's eyes burned with fury, but beneath it, there was something else -something raw and unguarded. "And when exactly did you make up your mind about it, huh?" he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. 

"I think it's better for both of us," you said, ignoring the way your heart clenched at the look in his eyes.

But San wasn't having it. His hand gripped the banister beside you, his body blocking your path. "No," he said firmly. "We're not done. Not until I say we are. And you're not leaving," San said, his voice steady but barely restrained, his body now fully blocking your path. His gaze locked onto yours, fierce and unrelenting.

"Move, San," you said through gritted teeth, trying to push past him. "I'm done having this conversation."

His hand shot out, gripping your wrist -not hard, but firm enough to keep you from walking away. "No. We're going to finish this right here"

You glared at him, your pulse racing. "What's the point? You made it clear I was just a means to an end. Now that you're head of the company, what reason is there for us to stay married?"

"Because this isn't just about the company!" San snapped, his voice rising, frustration boiling over. His chest heaved with each breath, and for the first time, he looked genuinely unhinged, like he was losing control of everything he'd carefully built.

You yanked your wrist free, your eyes burning with unshed tears. "Then what is it about? What part of this marriage was real to you? Tell me!"

His silence was deafening. His jaw clenched, his eyes searching your face for something -anything. But no words came.

Your heart twisted painfully in your chest, and you laughed bitterly, shaking your head. "Exactly. You can't even answer that."

San's eyes darkened, his frustration tipping into something dangerously possessive. "You really want to know what's real?" he said, stepping closer until there was barely an inch of space between you. "You." his voice was low, his eyes burning into yours. "Every damn second with you was real"

But for some reason, those words that night felt like the most painful stab at your chest. If there was something clear to you that night, it was that San never really cared for you, but his own control over you. That idea alone made your head spin, trying to decipher if all of his words in that moment were part of the act as well. 

His proximity sent a jolt of heat through you, but you refused to back down. "Words mean nothing, San. Actions do."

"Then watch me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Before you could say another word, his lips crashed against yours in a kiss that stole your breath. It wasn't soft or sweet -it was raw and consuming, a war between his frustration and desire. His hand cupped the back of your neck, holding you in place as his lips moved against yours with an urgency that made your head spin.

You tried to fight it, to remind yourself of everything you'd just overheard, but your body betrayed you. Your hands gripped his shirt, pulling him closer even as your mind screamed at you to push him away.

His tongue swept across your bottom lip, coaxing a soft gasp from you, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. It felt like drowning, like falling too fast and too far, and you hated how easily he could unravel you.

When he finally pulled back, your hand slapped across his face, making it turn. He stayed in that position for a few seconds, until he finally moved his head back up, his eyes searching yours, dark and unreadable. "You think I don't care?" he whispered, his voice hoarse. "You're wrong."

Your heart thundered in your chest, and for a fleeting moment, you believed him. You believed every word, every touch. But the sting of his earlier betrayal still lingered, refusing to let go.

"I can't do this," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Not like this". 

Not when you couldn’t trust him, or know what he was saying was real or not. Not knowing when he was playing with you or showing off his feelings. 

It was too much. 

San's grip on you tightened, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "Yes, you can. You're not leaving."

"I don't want to be near you" you let go of his grip once again. "You disgust me. I can't even stand being near you right now. Who knows? Maybe it had always been like that and now that the reason that kept us together is gone I can be honest with the two of us. Be honest with yourself, too". 

The next afternoon, sunlight streamed through the kitchen windows, casting a warm glow across the marble countertops. You sat at the kitchen island, quietly picking at your lunch, your mind still tangled in the events of the previous night. Sleep had been elusive -every word, every touch, every kiss replaying in your head on an endless loop.

You were lost in thought when the sound of the front door slamming snapped you back to reality. Heavy footsteps echoed down the hall, growing louder until San appeared in the doorway, his expression dark and unreadable.

Without a word, he reached into his coat and pulled out a stack of papers. He strode over to you and threw them onto the counter in front of you, the crisp white pages fanning out across the surface.

Your heart stopped for a second as you glanced down at them: "Divorce Agreement". Signed.

"You wanted this, right?" San said, his voice cold and biting. "There. You've got it. Congratulations, you're free."

You looked up at him, stunned into silence, your fork frozen in mid-air. His eyes were like shards of ice, his usual warmth completely gone. He looked almost... victorious, but underneath it, you could sense something else, some of his vulnerability was still obvious in his eyes.

"San, I..."

"You don't need to say anything" he interrupted, his voice dangerously calm. "You made it clear last night that this marriage means nothing to you. So, I'm giving you what you want. No more pretending. No more games."

Your chest tightened, and for a moment, you struggled to find your voice. "You think this is what I want?" you finally said, your voice trembling.

"Isn't it?" he shot back, his eyes narrowing. "You were the one who asked for the divorce. I'm just making it easy for you."

You swallowed hard, your throat burning. "You're unbelievable."

San crossed his arms, leaning against the counter with a bitter smirk. "No, what's unbelievable is that you think you can just walk in and out of my life whenever you want. You're the one who pushed me away, Y/n. I'm just giving you the freedom you begged for."

"Don't you dare act like you're some kind of victim here," you snapped, rising to your feet. "You lied to me, acting like you cared, like you were into me. You said you were after me long before all of this happened... Bullshit! You used me for your business, just like you admitted to Wooyoung. But I was dumb as fuck to believe we were more than that".

His eyes flickered with something -surprise, perhaps, or regret- but it was gone in an instant, replaced by that same infuriating calm. "So, that's what this is about," he muttered. "You overhear one conversation, twist it in your head, and suddenly I'm the villain?"

"I didn't twist anything," you said, your voice shaking. "I heard exactly what you said. That I'm just a pawn in your game. That sleeping with me was just part of your plan. Hope you enjoyed the bit of control you had while you fucked me."

San laughed, but it was a hollow, bitter sound. "You really think that's all you are to me?"

"Isn't it?" you challenged, your heart pounding so hard it hurt. "Tell me I'm wrong."

The silence that followed was deafening. His jaw clenched, his eyes searching yours for a long, agonizing moment. Then, slowly, he stepped back, his expression hardening.

"You already made up your mind," he said quietly. "So what's the point in convincing you otherwise?"

Your breath caught in your throat, tears stinging your eyes. You wanted to scream at him, to demand answers, to tear down the walls he had so carefully built around himself in less than a few days. But instead, all you could do was stand there, your heart breaking all over again.

"Fine," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "If that's how you want it."

He nodded once, his face devoid of emotion. "It's what you wanted, remember?"

Annoyed, you reached for a pen, signing up the papers next to him, slamming it against the table before getting up and walking away, leaving the papers on the counter in front of him. The sound of the front door slamming shut echoed through the house, and for the first time since the start of your marriage, you felt truly alone.

[themultifandomgal]

Matt Casey- Home Pt2

"I swear I put it in here. I can't find it" Brett says looking through her bag while I'm doing my makeup

"What if Kelly comes in here?" Stella says looking at me

"He won't and anyway that's just a stupid tradition from arranged marriages. Was just to make sure the groom and bride don't see each other before the wedding and decide to run away to avoid the whole thing" I reply finishing up

"I'm not tempting fate in anyway. It's a shock this wedding is even happening"

"Got it" Sylvie pulls out a blue garter

"Oh no that's hideous"

"It's the only one they had"

"Oh no" Stella starts to freak out a little

"Ok breath. You need something blue? Here" I take off my sapphire necklace that Matt bought for me during our first anniversary

"I'm still worried about Kelly seeing the dress"

"Ok" I walk over to the door and open it "Matt? Babe? Tell Kelly if he comes in here I'll kill him"

"Severide ya here that? YN will kill you if you go in that room"

"Got it" Kelly shouts back

"Ok. Now let's get you dressed"

"Hi we're here to check in for the Kidd- Severide wedding" Matt tells the wedding venue owner

"Yeah so I tried to call her but her voicemail was full"

"Well they're here now so let's go. Chop chop these two will run away if they don't get married right now"

"Well, the Miliniac wedding is back on and I still have his deposit, so I gotta let him in. We'll get you guys in here next month"

"Oh no they need to get married now" I say

"Hey buddy listen um they hurry up and get it done, cos they got serious commitment issues, so how about I offer you a hundred bucks?" Herrmann tries to to bribe

"No sorry"

"This is a disaster"

"What now?" Cruz sighs

"We go back to the apartment?" Kelly says with Stella stood behind him

"Hey I'll be back in a second" Matt kisses my cheek and walks off towards a boat

"So YN you and Matt are doing well"

"Yeah" I reply to Gabby clearing my throat feeling very uncomfortable

"Look I don't want things to be awkward. Matt and I divorced, I don't want him back, but I do want my friend back"

"Gabby..."

"I know it's kinda weird and this is Kidd and Severides day, but can we talk later?"

"Ok"

"I got a boat" I hear my boyfriend say. I leave Gabby and walk over to Matt and Kelly "right there. The tour boat"

"You sure everyone can fit on that?" Kelly asks

"They only have two people signed up for the tour, so Captain Herrera said we could buy it out. Even better, he's a ship captain, so he can marry you!" Matt saves the day

Once everyone's on the boat Matt and I sit next to each other

"You ok?"

"Yeah. Not like I get sea sick or anything"

"Just breathe through it" I give Matt a nod and take a deep breath just as Stella walks down the aisle with Boden

"Good afternoon, everybody. Usually, about this time, - I'm pointing out the width of Mather Tower. Instead, the fates aligned and here we are on this ship surrounded by the magnificent city of Chicago to celebrate the union of Kelly and Stella" the captain of the ship says. I lean my head on Matts shoulder "And I understand

this one's been a long time comin so let's get right to it, what do ya say?" This makes us all chuckle. Kelly and Stella say their vows which make me cry. They have their kiss and they are now man and wife

"Wanna get married?" Matt says leaning in my ear and we clap the newlyweds

"What?" I frown looking at my boyfriend confused. Matt stands up pulling me up with him

"I asked Severide and Kidd if this was ok to do" Matt gets down on one knee, I look at the newly weds who just smile at me "YN I love you more than you could ever know. I've been planning on asking you to marry me for a while and Severide gave me the idea to ask you today, said I wouldn't do it else. So YN will you marry me" I wipe the tears that have fallen

"Of course" I yell. Matt places the beautiful ring on my finger

"What do you say? Up for another wedding?" Matt asks the captain who smiles

"Why not"

"What right now?" I ask wide eyed

"YN I don't care about the big white wedding. I just want you to be my wife and your finally home. I don't want to wast anymore time"

"We don't even have rings Matt"

"Doesn't matter. I'll buy some tomorrow"

"Here use ours for now" Kelly and Stella take there's off making me chuckle

"Ok" Matt takes my hand, since we don't have our own vows we just repeat what the captain says. We say our I do's, kiss and now we're married "I was a fiancé for .5 seconds"

"And now your my wife"

We end up parting on the boat till it's late. I can't believe I'm married now. While Kelly and Stella leave for their honeymoon Matt and I head home, put the boys to bed and head to bed ourselves

"I love you YN. Promise we will have our honeymoon soon"

"Can we go to Italy?"

"Done"

"I love you to. Was the easiest yes I've ever made" I yawn cuddled up into Matt.

[pirrusstuff]

Hiiiiiiii Fer 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

👶👶👶👶👶

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

🎥🎥🎥🎥🎥

🛋️🛋️🛋️🛋️🛋️

🍸🍸🍸🍸🍸

-❤️🪐

Hii Saturn!

Teen AU 👶

" Stop! Why are you fighting!" Their mother was kneeling on the floor trying to separate them.

" Uuuuh I was trying to wake Eddie up"

None of them want to tell their mother why they were fighting.

" Yeah, she was just trying to help me, I'm play now" Eddie nervously said.

Helena looked a them, analyzed their expressions and posture, she saw the disaster in the kitchen, Eddie didn't hit his head and he wasn't even pale.

" Are you sure you feel okay?" She asked.

" Yeah"

" Okay, Eddie go to your room, Adriana go with him and tell me if anything happens"

"Kay!" They both said.

Dog! Eddie AU🐾 ( 1 per emoji for this one, sorry Saturn c;)

" So you're like a werewolf?" Karen asked looking a little bit confused.

"More like a nahual" Buck said.

" No nahual!" Eddie said " Yeah Karen, like a werewolf but instead of transforming into a wolf I transform into a dog every full moon"

"Since when?" Karen doesn't look confused or surprised, she's curious.

" When a dog bit me during a call" Now Eddie looks embarrassed.

" Okay"

" We are telling you this because I was the only one who knew it and we think Bobby is suspecting why we avoid full moon shifts" Buck said looking at Eddie.

Morning show AU 📹

Eddie looked very worried as he looked at his phone.

" What's going on Diaz?" Buck sat next to him on the floor.

" People sending me hate on the Instagram account the PR department told me to create..." He took a deep deep breath " and tomorrow I'm going to sign the divorce papers with my almost ex-wife"

Buck's eyes widen, he knows nothing about divorce ( just what Maddie told him but he hopes Eddie is in a totally different situation) but he knows a lot about how to deal with people's hate.

" Well that sounds bad"

" The divorce is not bad bad... me and Shannon, my almost ex-wife, wanted it and it's going to be the best for Chris, my son" Eddie said like it was really casual.

I'm asking you to stay 🛋️

" The time when it was just Chris and me, every time Christopher did something good, he looked to my side to find someone who was there to see it too, there was no one until I met you, you are always there"

" How could I not? Eddie you... when we met I was in a really bad moment of my life, I didn't really liked you at first..." Buck's voice was shaky.

" Yea I noticed that" Eddie smiled, tears threatened to spill out of her eyes.

" But when I saw you for the first time, beyond my jealousy... I-I knew that I was about to start the best time of my life, and thenImet Chris and I knew I had found my family" He took a deep breath " I know we've had our bad times, fights, days in the hospital, but..."

Eddie and Shannon's relationship🍸

She never had a voice, she didn't had any control in her life, everything looked like it was going to be decided by someone else.

And then she decided to go.

And she ended up hating that decision.

Did Eddie also have a voice and the power to decide important things in his life? or everything, at least most of it, was controlled by his parents.

They were not meant to be together or they were just two people who are victims of their circumstances.

Maybe if they...

NO, they can't go back together.

" You love me? or do you love the idea you have of me?" She takes a deep breath, she really needs to say this but it's so difficult " Do you love how messy I am? do you love how much I like that stinky cheese you hate? do you love me when I make a mess in the kitchen? do you love me when I get late everywhere? do you love me when I get sad and I don't want to talk to anyone? do you love me the way a husband should love his wife?

Make me write!

[silverhallow]

Strangers All At Once: Bruises

Strangers All At Once Masterpost

Prev | Next

Pairing: Sophie Beckett x Benedict Bridgerton

Counting days, counting days since my love up and got lost on me And every breath that I've been taken since you left feels like a waste on me I've been holding on to hope that you'll come back when you can find some peace Cause every word that I've heard spoken since you left feels like a hollow street I've been told, I've been told to get you off my mind But I hope I never lose the bruises that you left behind Oh my lord, oh my lord, I need you by my side

Benedict had a horrible headache when he woke the morning after Anthony’s stag do, which in of itself had been a disaster of a night.

He’d planned to be sober enough to see Sophie, to talk to her, to see if maybe whilst she was intoxicated she’d have told him more about why she’d left him, why she’d called time on their relationship but bumping into one of his sort of exes wasn’t really how he’d planned to spend the night.

He and Tilly had split after they’d wanted different things. Hee wanted more than she was prepared to give him after her divorce and he’d spent most of the night avoiding her, he didn’t need Sophie seeing her sniffing around him. He didn’t want her to scare Sophie off but when Tilly had pressed herself up against him outside of the last pub where he knew Sophie and Kate were coming to meet them, and as she threw her arms around him and kissed him he froze in shock.

It had been a few seconds before realised what was going on and he pushed her off and his eyes were wide as he told her fuck off, that he didn’t want her, that he’d moved on and he was in love with someone else.

In his heart he was still with Sophie, he wanted her back more than he wanted air, and it had been his confession that he was with someone else, that he loved another, that had finally gotten Tilley to leave him alone. He breathed a sigh of relief but as he went into the bar and saw Sophie, sitting there drinking on her own.

As he walked over to her, he realised something was wrong as she was clutching the bottle of whiskey like her life depended on it “Soph?” he said, walking over to her slowly.

“Go ‘way” she grumbled.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just… go… I don’t want…” she swayed on her seat and grabbed the bottle and took a drink

“I think you’ve had enough…” he said but Sophie’s face turned to him with an expression he’d never seen on her face before, it was almost hatred… icy glare that froze his heart and he felt his entire being shrink and he knew that she wasn’t going to speak to him and so he did the only thing that he felt he could do…

Get Kate and then go home.

Which he did. And followed Sophie’s suit and opened his whiskey and drank until he fell asleep with no idea that Sophie had seen Tilley kissing him…

Until the following morning when he thought someone was trying to break his door down and as stumbled his way from his sofa to the door, he’d half expected a police officer but he hadn’t expected to see his soon to be sister in law glaring at him like he’d murdered a member of her family.

“You are un-fucking-beliveable” she hissed at him.

“What… what’s happened?” he groaned his eyes struggling to adjust to the light, his head throbbing, mouth dryer than the sahara desert…

“YOU FUCKING HAPPENED!” Kate snapped and Benedict winced.

“Can you dial down the volume… please… and can we not do this here on the doorstep as i don’t need to feed my neighbours gossip…” he mumbled and not giving her a chance to reply he just walked into his flat.

“What the fuck were you thinking? What did you say to me literally 24 hours ago?!” Kate snapped at him.

“Firstly, i’ve got no idea what the fuck you’re talking about… what have I done or supposedly done? I know I wasn't exactly sober but I'm pretty sure I remember everything before getting home…”

“So you remember kissing someone?!” she snapped “you remember that you told me yesterday morning that you want Sophie back and that you felt lost without her… and you love her and want to be with her?!”

“Yes I said all that…” he said, he remembered yesterday morning, he’d opened himself up to Kate and told her how he’d felt in the last two years without Sophie, how everyone was telling him to put her out of his mind, how he felt every breath he’d taken since she’d left had been a waste.

He’d not wanted to forget about her, he’d thought something had been wrong when she left, that there was a reason but he was holding out hope that she’d come back to him when she found some peace with her life… he knew about her step mother, what she’d put her through…

He felt like each day without her had been colder and colder and now she was back… he felt like he was able to tread water, that he was living again…

He’d told Kate all this…

“And the kiss?!” Kate shouted

Benedict scowled “I didn’t kiss anyone… i was kissed by Tilley…”

“TILLEY?!”

“Can you stop shouting please for the love of god…”

“YOU KISSED YOUR EX AND SOPHIE SAW WHAT DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DO?!”

“Sophie… fuck! It isn’t what you think! It wasn’t!”

“Ben… you were seen by the woman you’ve been pining for for the last two years kissing your ex… who you asked to move in with you, asked to meet your family and shot you down?! What else is someone supposed to think?!” Kate spat.

“She kissed me. She spent all night trying to get into my pants… i pushed her off me literally within 5 seconds of her kissing me!” Benedict said “I was trying to get her to fuck off and leave me alone so i could come and speak to Sophie! Was… do you think that’s why…?”

“She fucking told me she saw… she said something about coming to talk to you…i’m guessing she finally worked up the courage to tell you why she left…”

“She… do you… do you know why?”

Kate sighed “i’m not sure I should tell you”

“Please Kate, I swear I wasn’t encouraging Tilley, I told her to fuck off and leave me alone after she kissed me. I told her I was in love with someone else and wanted nothing to do with her and she finally left. She followed us all night. Ask Ant and Simon if you don’t believe me!” he begged “just… tell me please… was… was it something I did?! I mean she said something about saving me the hassle or something…”

Kate sighed, “you remember her step mother and all the shit she put her through?”

Benedict frowned “what’s Araminta got to do with this?”

“Everything” Kate sighed

“Huh?” Benedict replied

“So remember how she was trying to sue Sophie over her father’s will? Adamant it was a fake and everything else?” Kate asked

Benedict nodded, his face showing his utter confusion.

“Well apparently she’d threatened you if Sophie didn’t leave, she said she’d ruin you and your career by saying you assaulted Rosa or something…”

“So she just… rather than telling me she just left?!” Benedict blinked

“That woman completely ruined Sophie’s esteem, confidence and everything Ben… it wasn’t just physical abuse it was emotional and mental abuse for years… she’s terrified of her”

“But…if she just… told me? My brother is a fucking lawyer!” he said growing angry

“Ben I’m just telling you what she told me, it’s taken years to get that out of her… i’m sure there was more to it than just that but she just won’t open up… she’s my best friend. She has been for years but she’s a closed book. It took her 5 years to tell me about Araminta… she told you within a month… you know her as well as I do… her flight and fight is weighed heavily towards flight… she hates conflict. You’ve seen that…”

Benedict grumbled “but she just gave up!”

“Ben, I swear you better not do anything stupid… just… give her a few days. She’ll be broken with a hangover today… just… give her a few days then talk to her… tell her about Tilley, tell her what actually happened and she might give you a chance or at least listen to you and then you can go from there”

Benedict however wasn’t listening properly, his brain was just whirring and he felt like he’d been blind sided, punched in the gut and he just grunted his approval and hadn’t heard a word about giving her a few days.

Within an hour of Kate leaving, he had showered and after some food felt normal and it had been 12 hours since he’d had a drink and he jumped in his car and headed over to Sophie’s, determined to find out the truth.

~*~

When Sophie woke up she had no idea how she’d gotten home. She barely remembered anything after seeing Benedict snogging some random blonde woman. All she remembered was whiskey and heart ache.

But as she saw the sick bowl next to her bed, two paracetamol and a glass of water, she assumed either Michael or Phillip had been summoned to collect her and take her home.

Groaning as she moved, she felt like she’d been hit by a bus. She felt worse than the time Araminta threw her down the stairs and fractured her ribs when she was 13.

She managed to get the paracetamol in and a few sips of water as she checked her phone.

She had a message from Michael: Text me when you’re awake so i know you’ve not died and choked on sick. Oh and take the paracetamol. They will help the head.

That answered her question about who picked her up and brought her home. She just sent a simple thank you as a reply

A response came through almost instantly afterwards pleased your alive boss. Take the day off. Phil and I have the cafe cover. Alice has come in to help. I’ll drop some food off later on my way home to soak up the whiskey.

Sophie groaned, that was what she’d drunk. Her mouth just felt like something had died but that cleared up a lot of things. She didn’t want to text Michael and ask if she’d said or done anything stupid because she didn’t want to remember and she didn’t want to know.

Ignorance is bliss afterall.

She barely felt alive and crawled into the shower and she’d only just put some clothes on when she heard a loud, almost aggressive knock on her door and she groaned. 

It was too early to be Michael and as he’d figured she was rough and delicate, he’d never knock that hard and she wanted to just ignore it but the longer she did, the louder the knocking got.

Grumbling she made her way to the door and as she opened it, she was surprised to see Benedict standing there.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, shocked.

“We need to talk” he said simply, his tone clipped and cold and Sophie just blinked as he walked past her into her flat.

“Ben… can we not… i’m…”

“No, I'm sick of us ignoring the subject… Why did you leave? Why did you break up with me?” he asked

“I told…”

“No. you fucking didn’t” he said cutting her off “you might have said it was to save me a job but that’s not the truth is it?!” he demanded as he stalked closer to her 

“I don’t… i don’t know what you’re talking about” Sophie lied as she moved her gaze away from him

“Bullshit and you fucking know it. I know it was because your step mother threatened me!” he snapped, “did you think I was just too stupid to know the truth? Or didn’t deserve it”

Sophie glared at him her arms crossing tightly over her chest “don’t go getting all high and fucking mighty on me. You know what that woman did to me! What she continued to try and do to me! And besides, it was my decision not yours! You’ve made your feelings perfectly fucking clear since and even before then! It was obvious!”

“Obvious!?” Benedict exclaimed, taking a step backwards in shock.

“I heard you! I came to fucking talk to you and I fucking heard okay!” Sophie hissed her eyes narrowing as she gestured towards him

“Heard what?!”

“Oh don’t fucking play coy with me! I heard you the other day… i heard what you said” 

“No you don’t get to fucking blame me! You’re the one who gave up on us! You were the one who didn’t tell me! You were the one who ran away!” He said walking towards her

“I didn’t” she took a step back, her leg trailing a little as she avoided his eyes.

“YOU WENT TO FUCKING FRANCE! YOU WENT TO A DIFFERENT COUNTRY! THAT IS RUNNING AWAY!” He gestured towards the windows 

“LIKE YOU CARED! YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT IT IS LIKE, WHAT IT WAS LIKE. YOU ARE A FUCKING BRIDGERTON! YOU’VE ONLY KNOWN LOVE AND CARING AND WOMEN FAWNING OVER YOU ALL THE TIME” Sophie paused, taking a breath, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears as she continued, I’M A NOBODY. A FUCKING BASTARD. ANOTHER NOTCH” she yelled back

“You’re the one who left!” Benedict replied as Sophie’s chest heaved and she fought to control herself.

“You just don’t get it do you??” Sophie snorted “I’ve spent my life being unloved, unwanted, a burden and told I'm not good enough! Of having people “having to be nice to me” because of my father, because they wanted my inheritance or because of my friends…” 

“Soph…” Benedict said, a little softer, his arm reaching out to touch her

She shook her head and moved out of his way, not wanting his touch, not wanting him to knock down those defences again. “No. don’t you fucking dare. Don’t lie to me and tell me otherwise… it’s how it’s always been! I thought you were different!”

“I… you…” he stammered, his heart breaking at her words and the way she moved out of his way

“Just get out Ben. Go. just… go. Get out.” She pointed at the door.

“No… not…” he replied shaking his head

“NO. you don’t get to come here and shout at me like that… you… just… go” she yelled once again gesturing at the door

“I… i’ll…”

“Get out” she repeated this time stamping her feet, her eyes shining with tears

Benedict sighed “i’ll… i’ll call tomorrow”

“Don’t. If it's wedding related, tell Kate and she will message me… i’m… we’re done… don’t… i can’t anymore” she said and before Benedict had a chance to reply, she walked out of her living room, slammed her bedroom door and left Benedict standing there.

He wanted to go after her but he remembered how she’d floored some guy in the pub once and he didn’t fancy being punched with the wedding less than a week away…

So with a heavy sigh he left… wondering what the fuck just happened and how the fuck was he supposed to get her to talk to him now?

[greatwyrmgold]

Cluster Trigger: Family Edition

There aren't enough fucked-up families in the Parahumans multiverse; I'll make another.

Our family members:

May, the mother. Currently single and overworked.

Soren, the big brother. Autistic, to a serious degree.

Danielle, the little sister. Also autistic, but less so, and also undiagnosed.

The patriarch of the family is out of the picture, and has been since Soren was in kindergarten and Dani in diapers. Stress from work and children built up to the point that he assaulted May, who promptly filed divorce papers.

Since May went to divorce court in a cast, the court decided that the children wouldn't be safe with their father. May was worried about whether she'd be able to take care of both kids on her own, but decided it would be worse to split the siblings apart.

The trigger event happened a decade later, the summer before Soren entered high school.

May's Day

May has had a pretty stressful decade, trying to balance Soren's needs, Dani's needs, her own needs, and so on...and there just isn't enough time in the day.

May would love to be a full-time mom, but child support payments only go so far, so she needs to go to work. There are chores to do and errands to run; Soren and Dani are old enough to handle some of those, but not many, not without supervision, which still takes time. She needs to calm the kids down when something goes wrong. She needs to make sure as few things as possible will go wrong, which is tough, because the kids' needs are often in tension. (They're both picky eaters, for one thing, but they pick different foods.) She needs to check on her dad every week, because no one else will. She needs to find enough "me time" to avoid going insane.

And of course, she needs to stop the kids from killing each other. That one is a joke...or it's supposed to be.

It's a busy afternoon, and May's in a hurry. Today, Dani starts that beach summer camp she's been looking forward to. That means May only needs to worry about Soren for a week and a half; unfortunately, she needs to go to work right after, and she can not afford to miss a shift right now.

And then disaster strikes. Not half an hour before May needs to take Dani to the camp, Soren knocks over a glass. He knows they're in a hurry, so he quickly moves to throw away the shards of glass, and cuts his hand open. He's on the ground, clutching his hand to his chest and rocking back and forth, shouting "It's fine" over and over but there's so much blood.

May knows she needs to take Soren to the ER, and tries to guess how that'll impact her schedule. Her boss had better be fine with getting to work late to take her son to the hospital, but the summer camp...May quickly puts some towels on Soren's bloody hand and warns Dani that she might have to miss the first day of camp.

And apparently, that snaps something in her. Dani grabs one of Soren's model trains and starts hitting her brother in the head.

There's more of Soren's blood.

May's powers

This stress has been building a long time, with the trigger event being an unusually extreme coincidence of domestic issues that she'd experienced for years. Tinker. Looking at the TINKERS 2.0 doc, I think a Liberty/Controller methodology fits pretty well.

I bounced around a few ideas for her power around the same cluster of ideas, but I think "cloned cyborgs" works best. Basically, May makes android bodies that resemble herself and adds some cloned nervous/endocrine tissue to control them. She can incorporate her own memories, skills, etc into these cyber-clones; if she's willing to invest and risk it, she can even give them her powers.

Theoretically, having several copies of yourself would resolve May's issues. In practice, she needs to maintain the cyber-clones' robot parts, keep tabs on their psychology to make sure they're not depressed or overworked or going all Golem of Prague on her metaphorical wells; at best, it's two steps forward for one step back. At worst, the opposite.

The big perk is that, now that she and her kids have powers, she can collapse several duties into one. If she starts a superhero team with her family, she can take care of them and go to work at the same time! Just like those people in Brockton Bay did! It worked out for them, right?

May names the cyber-clones after months—June, July, etc.

Secondary Powers

May can sprout a semi-tangible tentacle from each elbow, which gives her telekinesis—though at a much smaller scale than Dani's. More in the "tool to broken android" range, and they only reach a few feet. They can also deflect (slow, physical) attacks.

Her arms and chest also have enhanced bones and muscles, hard and dense as metal. These let her punch harder, and are also unusually sensitive.

Danielle's Day

It was a crummy morning.

Mom sent her and Soren to the store to buy some groceries, which was fine, but on the way back a bunch of emergency vehicles drove by and sent Soren into one of his meltdown things. Dani hated the noise, hated how she had to deal with Soren and the groceries he dropped instead of getting away. And when they got back, Mom was annoyed that the bananas got squished. Dani knew Mom wasn't exactly mad at Dani for something Soren did, but it still felt that way.

And there were other things. A really bad episode of her favorite cartoon. Another meltdown at lunch, because Mom switched Soren and Dani's sandwiches on accident. Finding out that Freida couldn't go to marine camp with her after all. A thousand tiny stresses that she just bottled up, because unlike some people, she had self-control.

Then Soren cut his stupid hand, and Mom said that she'd have to miss marine camp because of him, and...it turns out her self-control isn't so good after all. She's not even sure why she's doing it.

She's just so wound-up that she broke.

Dani's Powers

Realizing she doesn't have as good of self-control as she assumed is part of the trigger, but that's not the core of it. I could argue that she wants to go to camp to escape, or that it's caused by an adverse social environment, but that doesn't feel quite right either. The Sense Thinker trigger sounds sort of relevant, but also like it exaggerates the "regression" while missing on all the stuff feeding into it.

So, messy Breaker. But what kind of breaker?

I think Dani's trigger boils down to control. Both the aforementioned self-control, and her inability to control her broader life. She's still in elementary school, but on top of that, there's her brother, who keeps throwing wrenches into things that she thought she could count on. Including marine camp.

Her Breaker form unravels her limbs into a bunch of semi-tangible jellyfish-like tentacles, trailing a dozen feet or more behind. (She can fly in this form, just not particularly high or quickly.) The Changer nod is letting her partially slip into her Breaker form; if she wants, she can just turn one arm into tentacles at a time, for instance.

The tentacles conduct her related clairvoyant and telekinetic powers. She can move things her tentacles touch (if it's lighter than a bus but bigger than a dog). The telekinesis doesn't affect living things (duh), and it can't move things quickly, so it's mostly useful for rearranging vehicles or furniture or whatever. The tentacles also sense things in their general area; think sonar, but with spatial waves instead of sonic waves. And they can go through most walls.

That sense is a bit of a problem. Whether due to shard ignorance or shard malice, her tentacle sense does not vibe with her brain. Dani finds the tentacle sense viscerally unpleasant. The longer she stays in the form, the less bearable it is, the more her mood impacts her telekinetic control, the longer it takes to "cool down".

Secondary Powers

Dani's full Breaker form comes with an armored carapace, a word which here means "back". (So, think of her Breaker form as a jellyfish/turtle/human hybrid.)

Dani can't make cyber-clones, but she can make little boxes of cloned Danielle tissue which can create their own tentacles. They don't have carapaces, but they can be designed to grow metallic bits, like hooks to grab stuff with or plates to block stuff with or blades to hurt stuff with.

Soren's Day

Soren feels like a burden to his family. He feels guilty for all the problems he causes. He feels shame for not being able to fix those problems, or even properly express his apologies. He feels like a failure of a big brother; he knows they're supposed to take care of little sisters, but Dani keeps having to take care of him.

But the feelings which are most immediately relevant are "Ow, my head" and "Ow, my hand".

Soren's Powers

So, like, Brute, obviously.

As per the BRUTE document, focused physical damage means a Muscle brute—"raw mass and offensive tools". But that's also associated with struggle, and Soren is not struggling, really. The Dynamic brute's despair is a more fitting emotion, or maybe Repression's emotional helplessness.

So raw physical offense, but indirect or "skill-based" defense. But pretty much physical, since the harm was all physical. Hm.

How about a partial transformation, which bulks out his arms and the front of his torso with metallic armor? (Or maybe his one arm, part of his torso, and his head, if we want to get armorfacey.) This gives him the strength you'd expect of a Brute, and in this form his waist can rotate 360 degrees, letting him spin his armored parts in whatever direction he needs to block or deflect attacks. But obviously, if he's attacked from multiple directions at once (or doesn't notice an attack), he's as fragile as anyone.

Giving this guilty kid in a power that lets him bleed to help his family more is probably twisting the knife enough.

Secondary Powers

Soren can grow three sensory tentacles from his back. This is separate from his Brute transformation, which is good since he has the same claristensory issues as Dani does.

Soren can't clone anything, but he can make basic androids with telekinetic whips.

The Cluster

"Cluster Game": Mother, May I? Not a great match to the children's game, but...how could I not?

May, as the parent of the cluster, has outsize influence on her children. Their powers ebb and flow with her attention. When she praises one child and ignores the other, the former's powers get stronger and the latter weaker. This is a pool shared between all three; if May ignored her children, her powers would get much stronger.

May doesn't realize just how much power she has over her kids. Soren and Dani have a sense of what's going on, but can't quite explain or express it.

Team Dynamics

Like I said, May turns the family cluster into a superhero team. They work with the local PRT, of course, but she keeps the team separate. She's heard a lot of Wards horror stories, and wants to keep her kids safe herself.

(This might be a good time to mention that absolutely none of May's professional skills or job experience are related to any aspect of running a superhero team.)

Surprisingly, the actual cape stuff isn't that much of a problem. First off, they live in a small town—a bit bigger than Stafford, but it's no Brockton Bay. Second, between Dani's Shaker power, Soren's armor, and the tinkertech, it's pretty easy for May to keep her family safe. No, the problem is the media.

May decided not to go full New Wave and reveal their identities, but she still has her team/family give interviews. Which is stressful for both of the kids, but especially Dani. May warns journalists that her son is autistic, so they know A. she'll get mad if they ask him too many questions and B. he probably won't give many good answers anyway. But this just means that whenever they want to ask a question to one of the kids, they ask Dani. And that's a lot of stress to put on any ten-year-old, on top of hero stress and (in the fall) school stress...

[sapphiredhearts-a]

lore / early life

please read my twilight wolf lore written in my jacob black headcanon here .

paul lahote was born into a family who looked perfect on the outside . they were the typical all-american family in a beautiful house in the suburbs . his dad was a former athlete who had gone off to college on a football scholarship and met the picture - perfect cheerleader . they were engaged and married before they graduated and paul's mother , grace , fell pregnant before she could get her degree . paul's father , john , stayed in school and finished his degree - becoming an accountant who made a good living and was able to move the family to tacoma

everything was . . . fine until paul was eight . his father had a temper from the beginning and pushed his mother into being what he thought was the perfect housewife . he never got physical with paul's mother , but the pressure was hard on her and she never seemed to get things right . she had dreamed of being a lawyer , not a stay at home mom and started to distance herself from john and paul as time went on . on paul's eighth birthday he woke to disaster - his mother had fled to her parent's house and demanded a divorce . john told him that she never tried to fight for any of them and had abandoned paul . despite not believing him at first , paul eventually accepted this version of events as truth and vowed to live up to his father's expectations so he didn't end up like grace .

it wasn't long before john moved paul away from tacoma - uprooting his young life even more . they went back to john's hometown of la push , a place john had said he'd never return to . but he had gotten offered a spot on the tribal council and declared it would be a good move . he could work from home out of a base in port angeles and devote more time to paul . paul thought perhaps things would turn around . he was wrong .

john was a pusher . he pushed paul to be perfect in all aspects of life - no matter how much it killed paul . paul had to join every sport he could , ace all of his classes , and always be seen with the "right" kind of people . he hated the popularity that came with being a jock . the other kids could never really relate to him because he could never be up front about his home life . there were times when john would get violent when paul didn't meet expectations but paul internalized it thinking if he had just been better it wouldn't have happened . he wouldn't leave his father like his mother had done , wouldn't give up on him . besides , he had nowhere else to go .

to everyone else - they were perfect . people adored john , especially after he joined the council . he would rant about how he hated not being higher up in ranks but he still went to every meeting and tried to make his opinion heard . the people of the reservation thought that john was the epitome of a good father . he had taken on being a single dad so well , after all . they would have never guessed what was going on behind closed doors . john was a charmer , for sure .

one thing john was very adamant about when paul was growing up was that paul would learn about the tribal legends . paul didn't think the legends were real , but unlike the other guys he came to know later , paul wished that they were . he wanted the strength that the shape-shifters of the legends possessed , the power . so he held onto every word that his father told him .

when he finally phased , paul was ecstatic to be a wolf . he had done so in a fit of anger after a fight with his father - luckily he had been alone so no one got harmed and sam happened to be on patrol to explain everything to him . paul took it in stride and adjusted quickly - happy to leave his friends and old life behind . he thought his father would be upset he had to quit sporst to avoid detection but he didn't seem to care . he only wanted paul to be the best wolf of the pack .

a few things bothered paul in his new state . for one , he had more trouble than the others controlling his emotions . sam theorized it came from unresolved trauma from his home life ( paul couldn't block them out of his thoughts and therefore sam & jared knew more about him than anyone - creating a close friendship between the three ) but paul refused to believe that . his father had only wanted the best for him . still , he struggled with his explosive anger . after sam hurts emily , paul tries harder to gain control of his emotions and even goes to classes for it - but he struggles every day .

another problem was that paul had been quite popular before transitioning . nobody knew why he had suddenly disappeared for weeks and when he came back seemed to leave everything behind - including a girl he had been seeing . paul refused to give explanations and was instead seen with sam & jared - fueling for the first time the "cult" rumors around la push .