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luvwestwood · 1 year ago

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"Thank You For Your Service" - Toji Fushiguro, Ryomen Sukuna

4,341 words.

warnings. nsfw, firemen! toji/sukuna, food-play, oral sex, p in v, mildly dubious con, double penetration, unprotected sex, throat fucking, rough play/sex, praising kink, creampie, degradation/dumbification (slut, whore)

notes. as an owner of your own independent bakery, you deliver your local firemen some sweet treats as a 'thanks' for their service. although a few of the men at the station decide to have a little fun with you. aka toji and sukuna fuck you silly and stuff you with their cum like a profiterole. also this has been in my draft for ages and I wanted to post it before I get back to classes 😭💀

banner cred. @/yunonoai on twt/ig

After successfully balancing the cash register, you glance over to the clock on the wall that reads sharply, '4:30' in the afternoon.

The rest of the staff, aka the young students you've hired to work in your bakery were long gone, as you had let them off quite early today.

You walked over to the display fridges to see what's remained of the cakes from today. As expected, there were a good few things left such as profiteroles and small dessert cakes.

"Mmm, maybe I should give these to the firemen down at the station."

You smiled as you came up with the sustainable idea to gift the local fire station a box of sweet treats as a thank you for their service. I mean, who wouldn't want free cakes?

You hummed as you tied the pink ribbon over the box. Hopefully you put enough in there, you knew that those working at the fire station were hardworking people, so they needed a lot to refuel.

Glancing to the clock again, only fifteen minutes have passed. You decided it was time to make your way to the fire station. You made sure everything was left prepared for the opening staff tomorrow. Grabbing your coat from the staff room, you took the rest of your belongings, and the nicely wrapped box, making your way to the fire station.

The walk wasn't long, as the station was only located down the avenue. They put the station in a place to make sure it was accessible for everyone. It was convenient for you at this moment too.

Coming to the front of the fire station, you were met with the garage shutters open. You weren't sure if you should just walk in through there, or go around to the visitors entrance. The lights were on though, and you could hear a faint chatter coming from the inside.

Deciding to take a peek, you could see two men sitting in chairs and talking, which you assumed were the firemen on duty today.

You couldn’t really make out their faces, but you could tell one had coral hair, the other, a dark black. At the same time, you mentally slapped yourself for freezing in one spot, wondering why you were unable to move.

Your eyes scanned their bodies, the muscular physique they owned had only been complimented by the fitted navy shirt they were wearing. You could tell both had put in the work at the gym. For once, you wished you were in a burning building right now.

Suddenly, the coral haired man looked in your direction, and by now you could make out some strange tattoos on his face. You gasp, startled at the fact he had caught you staring for awhile like some idiot. Curious, the raven haired man turns his head as well, and speaks.

"Well.. what do we have here?" he continued, "You lost, doll?" his voice so deep, it only went straight through your ears, down to your pussy.

By now, you had the attention of the two men, and it sort of felt belittling in a way. Part of you wanted to turn around and leave, as if nothing happened. Or maybe you could act like you walked into the wrong place.

Gulping, you clutched onto the corners of the box out of nervousness. "No.. I work at the local bakery down the block. I came here to uhm...” Your voice trails off, you had forgotten what to say.

The coral haired one butts into the conversation.

"Oh Toji, you've made her all nervous. She's so soft spoken now." He motions his hand for you to come closer, the so called 'Toji' rolling his eyes at what the other had said.

Hesitant, you stepped through the garage entrance, now hearing it close behind you as you walked closer to the two men. I guess there’s no turning back now..

You still didn't know what the coral haired one was called.

As you finally stood in front of them, they respectfully did the same, standing from the chairs they were just on.

Your stomach churned as you noticed the difference between your heights, the men now towering over you had only made the nauseous feeling worse. It had caused you to look up at them, like some lost puppy. Am I really this sex deprived?

You could have sworn that you felt something purr down there as the so-called Toji crosses his arms, his massive biceps on show. His navy fitted shirt practically sculpted over his muscles.

Begging to get out of this place that made it more difficult to withstand each minute, you spoke first.

“I work at the bakery down the street,” you continued after a breath, “..and I just wanted to give you these goodies as a thank you for your service to this city.”

Wanting to compensate for discomforting you earlier, Toji speaks. “Ain’t that sweet? S’kuna, take the box and put it behind me on the table.”

Sukuna, gently takes the box from your grasp. You felt your face warm up as his more bigger, calloused hands made contact with yours. He smiled at you, possibly for a silent thanks. You couldn't help but do the same.

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you blushed. Flattered that these men were praising you. “Oh, it’s nothing really..” you slowly took a step back. “Anyways, I better get going.”

Toji had only kept his eyes on you, as if he were to devour you at any moment. Leaning against the table behind him, Toji didn't dare to look at anything else in the garage. Sukuna was busy on the other hand, toying with the pink ribbon on the box.

“..Leavin’ already? Isn't that a shame, I thought that you yourself came with these desserts.” Toji snickered, looking at Sukuna behind his shoulder for a response.

Your lashes fluttered, in utter shock you were speechless.

Sukuna, could only laugh at Toji’s cheeky joke that was laced with filth. His own eyes watched you as he sucked the cake’s cream off his fingertips.

Awkwardly laughing, you brush off what just happened. “..I really.. need to get going. I have a bus to catch.” You lied, thinking that it would be able to get you out of here.

“C’mon, it’s not everyday we get the opportunity to share these cakes with a pretty girl. Right, ‘kuna?”

“Yeah, today’s our lucky day.” Sukuna hums, his sentence ending with a smirk.

Biting your lip, you thought about it for a moment. I mean, there wouldn’t be anything else for you to do as soon as you come home.

You knew you were going to regret this, but part of you wanted to stay. I mean, what could go wrong? “Mmm, okay fine, I guess I have a few minutes to spare..”

Toji grins, the scar on his mouth moving with his lips as you walk back closer to the two. "I promise, we'll make the most of it."

He stands back from the table, casually grabbing you by the waist and swiftly setting you atop the table as if you were a doll. You could only hiccup, taken aback by his sudden gesture. You immediately tug down on your skirt due to it rising up just now.

Flustered and warm, you made the sensible decision to take off your coat. Toji only takes it from your possession, setting the coat down on a chair nearby.

Your legs dangled off the edge of the table, slowly swinging back and forth, taking a few breaths to calm your nerves as you watch the men’s next move.

Toji stood in front, facing you, almost between your legs as he reached over to the box of desserts on your right side, grabbing one of the few cream cakes.

Sukuna on the other hand, makes small talk with you. “You make these yourself, beautiful?”

“Oh no, not just by myself. I have a few other staff at my bakery who of course help out.”

He nods slowly in approval, wiping the rest of the ganache off his hands using the pants of his cargo overalls.

You bit your lip, asking a sudden question out of curiosity . “Can I ask, where’s the rest of your crew?.. Is it just you two?”

Toji, busy taking a bite of the cake rolls his eyes. “That doesn’t matter right now,” the question stays unanswered as he changed topics, “God, the cream in this- whatever the fuck this is- tastes great. What you call these again?”

"It's called a profiterole," You watched as Toji took a huge bite, licking the cream off the corners of his mouth.

He uses his finger to swipe a small dollop of the cake’s cream onto his fingertips, bringing it closer to your mouth.

“Here, try it for yourself, It’s the best thing I’ve had.”

Does he expect me to suck it off his finger just like that..?

You knew better, this man was a stranger. Should you really be going around casually sucking on men's fingers? “Oh, I don’t know if I should-”

“Don’t leave me hangin’ doll! creams gonna slide off my finger..”

You shyly gabbed onto his hand, sucking the cream off his fingertip. Toji would be lying if he said that a tent didn’t just form in his cargos. He could feel his cock straining against his pants, begging to come out.

"'Atta girl.." Toji purred as he felt your hot mouth wrap around his finger.

He could only imagine what it would be like if you were to suck your own juices off his fingers after they had just been inside you.

This whole time, Sukuna was quietly watching everything unfold. He could feel a tinge of jealousy wash through him, angered at the fact that Toji was all handsy with you, and poor Sukuna couldn’t get a turn.

His index finger left your lips with a pop, his eyes never leaving yours. You heard Sukuna shuffle around with the box, his footsteps coming close to both where you and Toji were.

He gently pushed Toji aside, and unfortunately the raven haired sex fanatic took offense to that, Toji stabbing daggers into the back of Sukuna's head as he replaced his spot.

You shivered as Sukuna slithered his one hand onto your bare leg, the other hand holding another one of the cakes.

"How 'bout you share this one with me? Say ahh.." He brings the cake closer to your face, your face heating up from his hand slowly caressing the velvety skin on your thigh.

You grabbed onto his hand to stop it, "I'm really full, thank you th-"

Sukuna's hand suddenly moved down to your chest, smearing cake all over your blouse. The rest of the cake falling onto your skirt.

You jittered as you felt the cold cream manage to dribble down your sternum behind the fabric, a high pitch gasp escaping your lips out of discomfort.

"Oh my.." he continued with a devilish grin, "My hand slipped."

You gasped, your blouse now all ruined with red velvet cake and buttercream. "It's.. okay.. I'm heading home anyways."

"No, no-“ Toji behind him stepped in, "We gotta do something about that."

You tried to reassure them; using your hands as support to try hop off the table, "Guys, I promise it's nothing seriou-" but unfortunately Sukuna grabs the side of your thighs, setting you back on the table.

"Yeah no," thinking, Sukuna crosses his arms. "We gotta take that top off. In fact, take everything off."

Toji smirked, and let out a laugh. "I agree,"

Sukuna's large hands reached for the buttons of your blouse, pulling the top apart, the remaining fragments thrown to the other side of the garage.

The tiny buttons fly everywhere as you wince at the sight that unfolded before your eyes. You were able to see the evident change in the two men's demeanor as their eyes landed on the black lacy bra that was now on show.

"Ah-" Sukuna cooed, "She got some between her tits. Get this girl some tissue."

Toji walked around the garage in search of a tissue roll, and you watched him like a hawk, using your arms to cover your chest. "Can't seem to find any 'round here.."

Unable to form a sentence, you gape your mouth open at Toji, then to Sukuna.

"Well that's too bad.." he reaches for your arms, pulling them apart to expose your cake-stained chest back to him. “I wouldn’t mind licking it off.”

“Wait- I don’t think that’s-“ you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want this badly right now.

“Shh…” His hands snake down your chest to your abdomen, gently pushing you to lie against the table.

Your nipples go hard due to the contact of your back with the table’s cold surface, luckily they weren’t able to see that.

You felt as Sukuna’s wet tongue touches your stomach, slowly gliding up towards your cleavage that was stained with cream. You gasp, a breathy moan escaping your lips. That was enough to tell them both that you wanted this as much as they did.

You immediately grab onto his hair, and you could feel the smirk form against your skin.

You heard Toji’s footsteps come closer to your side of the table, he was suspiciously quiet for the time being.

Sukuna would only look up at you as he licked off the creamy residue all over your chest. The warmth from his tongue was ticklish, but this scene arousing enough to have a pool form between your legs.

“Think we gotta take this tiny skirt off too..” you felt him roughly grab on your skirt to slide it off, but not strong enough to rip it apart.

You could only clamp your thighs together, as the rest of your garments were stripped of you, the outcome being you all flustered that you were so exposed in-front of the two men.

Sukuna uses his hand to force your legs open, his head moving between your legs.

Until you felt another pair of hands clutch onto your panties and- rip!

You shudder as your bare pussy was met with the cold air of the garage, hoping to feel Sukuna’s warm, wet mouth but you were mistaken.

It was more cake.

Toji had smeared a Victoria-sponge dangerously below your lower abdomen.

Toji could only palm himself through his pants as he watches Sukuna devour the cake that was making its way towards your clit.

His tongue made its way to your dripping hole, slowly fucking into you back and forth.

“T-that feels.. so good..” you breathe out, Sukuna’s cock straining against the fabric of his pants as he heard this.

Unable to watch anymore, Toji stops palming himself through his pants. He makes his way to the box of desserts, disassembling a jam donut, scooping the strawberry glaze into his hands.

Horny, and jealousy filling his body like mad, he walks behind the table where your head was almost hanging off.

He eagerly unzips his cargos with an unoccupied hand, grabbing for his cock that has been nothing but a nuisance to him these past few minutes.

Too busy moaning in pleasure, you looked up to Toji, your vision of him upside down as you were laid against the table.

You could only watch as Toji’s heavy, thick cock slaps against your forehead, his jam covered hand wrapping around the base and making a mess of it on his length.

You felt his hand smear the strawberry residue all over your chest again, which was most likely for Sukuna to be able to lick.

“Better open wide you slut, or else it won’t fit.” You felt Toji’s hand grab onto your jaw, forcing mouth to open wider.

You moan as his cock fills your mouth so full, the sweet jam from the donut coating your taste buds. Toji wraps his hands around your neck, his two thumbs caressing your throat as he fucked his cock into it.

He groans, “Fuck, just like that..” throbbing as he felt the outline of his cock form against the skin of your throat. Squelching noises could only be heard as he staggeringly rut his hips back and forth.

You could hear Toji grunting above you from the sensation of the vibrations going to straight to his cock as you moaned. You felt Sukuna on the other end lapping at your clit, fucking you with two fingers of his fingers at the same time.

Taking a minute to close your eyes, you indulged in the pleasure you were receiving at both ends. At the same time, you were unable to tell who ripped your bra off you.

Toji pulls his cock away from your throat, leaving you to gasp for air. You shut your eyes tightly, disappointed at the empty feeling you were left with. Warm spit trickled down your face, Toji caressing your cheek but only to slap in after.

Toji doesn’t forget to plant a wet kiss on your lips before pulling away. You whimper as he leaves your side, but only this time he starts walking over to Sukuna’s end.

Sukuna pulled away from your dripping holes too, you wince and moan, praying that this isn’t the final moment that they’d have hands on you. You were too scared that the fun was cut short.

Using your elbows to prop yourself up, you watch the two men, speechless. You try to use this opportunity to catch your breath, but your head only falls back down onto the table. You stay sprawled out on the table, looking up at the bright lights of the garage.

“Feel like it’s time to stuff some cock in that pussy, don’t cha think?” Toji speaks, voice raspy from groaning.

“I think so too. But I’m fucking her first,” Sukuna replies.

A disagreeing Toji snaps back. “Nah, I want to.”

“Aren’t you forgetting we can both fuck her at the same time?” Sukuna suggests, your eyes widening at the thought of two men stuffing you full of cock at the same time.

You could almost predict that they could break you into two, and you have no idea how big any of them are yet. You use your elbows to prop yourself up again, your face showing an expression of disbelief. “I- I can’t do that.. I don’t think I can.”

Of course, they'd hardly take that as an answer. “We’ll see that for ourselves.”

You felt Sukuna grab onto your thighs once more, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pulled you towards him. He effortlessly picks you up, carrying you over his shoulder and walking towards what seemed like one of the fire trucks.

You heard a door open, Sukuna placed you onto a longer leather seat that was behind the driver in the truck cab.

Hearing a door open behind you, Toji follows inside, crawling onto the same leather seat. He lays back, hands pumping his cock as he watches you from the other side of the seat.

Dazed, you could only immediately crawl onto Toji’s lap, straddling him. He grins, his hands squeezing onto the soft skin of your tits and fondling as you waited for Sukuna to join.

Sukuna climbs onto the seat but this time behind you. Toji slightly moves his head to the side, taking a peek at Sukuna. Too bad, Sukuna was already busy fucking your ass with one of his fingers, making sure you were ready to be stuffed of his cock.

Jealous, Toji grips onto the doughy skin on your hips, aligning his tip with your dripping cunt before slowly sliding in.

You let out a long string of moans and curses, as you felt his thick length stretch you out as you sink down onto his cock.

“God, you feel so good around my cock. ‘S like your pussy’s made for it.”

Hearing a zip behind you, you disregarded it, as you were still trying to adjust to Toji’s size. This was cut short as you were caught by surprise by Sukuna filling you up with his own cock, this time in your ass. He was thick, but not thick as Toji. Although the length made up for it, you would think that he was all the way in but in reality it was only half.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as both of their cocks were stuffed deeply in both of your holes.

Your hands clutched onto the fabric of Toji’s compression shirt, wrinkling it all together.

Toji placed his soles flat onto the seat, using this support to harshly thrust into you upwards more faster than before as Sukuna behind staggered into you at a more slowed pace. Although he wanted you bad, he made sure to be gentle. He just wanted to indulge every inch of you.

Toji on the other hand, bottomed into you balls deep, his thumb cheekily creeping over to your clit, rubbing in continuous circles as they both fucked into you.

“Fucking slut,” Sukuna spits out, voice shaky as the plush flesh of your ass only clenched around him. “Both holes stuffed full of men’s cocks who you don’t know?”

Sukuna reached for your hair, grabbing a handful and pulling you back against his chest.

You whimpered, snaking one of your hands behind to his nape. Sukuna leaned in for a kiss, only to pepper more down your neck to your collarbone.

Toji kept his pace, which as quite impressive. You moaned back into Sukuna’s cheek, feeling a knot twist and form in the pit of your stomach.

“I-It’s too much- I can’t…” Your hand leaves the back of his neck, moving up higher to clutch on his coral hair as the immense pleasure had only washed through you.

Toji below you speaks, “You think we should let her cum?”

Slapping your face as he started to slow down, he could see you were drunk of their cocks. Fortunately, Sukuna was unable to see this as he was busy behind.

Toji thrusted into you balls deep each time in a consecutive pattern, bullying your cervix as your body jolted up and down along with your tits.

Sukuna moved his hands back down, away from your hair to be able to spread your cheeks apart. Groaning as he watched his cock slip in and out of your ass, he makes a decision. “Fuck, I think so. She’s been such a good girl this whole time.”

Toji grins, his hand moving to your cheek but this time roughly caressing your lip with his thumb. “You hear that doll? He says you were such a good girl.”

You were unable to form a sentence, your brains were fucked out at this point and Toji, wasn’t happy with this.

“Fucking answer me you whore,” surprised, you came back to your senses as Toji slapped your cheek harshly, leaving a red mark on your face.

“..Please, let me cum..” you hiccuped, “I can’t take it anymore.”

You watched Toji flash his same old devilish smile through your tear filled eyes, both of their paces picking up again.

Your moans turned shaky, the slapping of balls against your skin and wet noises filling the taxi cab.

Toji went back to lazily rubbing circles on your clit as both of them fucked you, making sure that you would cum on time with them.

This time, Sukuna’s hand wrapped around your throat, bringing your ear close to his mouth. “You want us to breed you? Is that what you want?”

Lost in a trance, you just went with whatever. You didn’t care anymore, you just wanted to be stuffed full of them forever.

You could only nod, but Sukuna couldn’t take it as an answer.

“Use your words baby, tell me what you want.” His warm breath tickled your ear, Toji’s thrusting making it difficult for you to speak.

You held onto Sukuna’s wrist around your throat, “I want.. both of your cum.. in me..”

Although your hand fell back onto Toji’s shirt as Sukuna gently pushed you back down. You sighed out loud, sobbing quietly as you felt his cock slide out of you.

Toji’s deep thrusts were the only thing you could feel, “Fuck, I’m coming.” He grunted beneath you, until you felt Sukuna’s cock entering the same hole Toji was in.

As you moaned out louder than before, the pleasure too hard to bear. You could feel yourself turning into jelly, your hands wrinkling the fabric of Toji’s shirt once again.

Your voice strained as you felt both of their cocks shoot warm, ropes of cum into you. Your orgasm comes crashing down on you, your chest heaving as Toji’s grip on your waist remained, but Sukuna’s hands slowly lost grip on your hair.

Both of them filled up your hole with seed to the point that it leaked out of you in no time.

Your eyes completely rolled back for tenth time this hour, feeling them both twitch inside of you, the white fluid leaking onto the black leather seats of the truck cab.

Sukuna leaves your hole first, moaning at sight of the generous amounts of cum that dripped down his length to his shaft as he slid out.

Followed by Toji, you could feel his cock slip out too, until his finger made its way back inside, making sure to fuck the escaping load back into you.

Both of them had left their mark in you, stretching you out so fully that no cock in the future can impress you but theirs.

You felt like a total cock sleeve, and your body yearned for more. But honestly, it felt like you were gonna break apart. So maybe next time.

All three of you stayed in the same spots, the windows were now fogged up to the point the entire truck cab smelled of sex.

“I can definitely point out one thing you and ‘em profiteroles have in common.”

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts. 🎀🩷

4K notes · View notes

zarameraki · 11 months ago

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˖°🕷️ ࣪𖤐 𝘁𝗼𝗷𝗶'𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝘃𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗻𝘆 ˖°🕷️𖤐

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 unprotected sex 𖥔 single dad x nanny 𖥔 porn with plot 𖥔 banter 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 praise 𖥔 shower sex 𖥔 bj 𖥔 certified pussy eater 𖥔 daddy issues 𖥔 dirty talking 𖥔 small pillow talk 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 smut

: ̗̀➛ words: 2.7k

: ̗̀➛ notes: wrote this one a while ago and decided it was time to get it out of the drafts. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.

“After the prince and his princess defeated the scary, ancient dragon, their kingdom lived happily ever after.”

With a smile, you closed the storybook, glancing over at Megumi, peacefully asleep in his crib. Your fingers brushed against his velvety cheeks before you tucked him in snugly and quietly left his room.

The jingle of keys echoed through the air.

Toji stepped into the apartment, his appearance dishevelled and weary of another demanding day at the construction site. He shed his hefty boots and lumbered into the living room. Catching sight of you, a faint grin settled on his lips. “He asleep?”

“The dragon story always knocks him out cold.” You took his bag and set it down by the couch as he shrugged off his jacket, letting it fall onto the bar stools. “Long day?”

“Too fucking long.” He yanked open the fridge door, retrieving a container of leftover pasta and a beer. You joined him in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and cracking open the can for him. “One of the machines decided to call it quits halfway through. Spent hours waiting for the mechanics to patch it up before we could even think of wrapping up the foundation.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Zenin.” Your gaze shifted to the scattered construction toys that Megumi often indulged in. “With tomorrow being the weekend, maybe you could take some time to unwind and spend quality time with Megs.”

Toji let out a derisive snort as he warmed up his food. “Always appreciate you looking out for us, sweetheart.”

“Hey, babysitting is my job.”

He took the beer can from your hand and affectionately pinched your cheek. You grinned with your nose scrunching up. “My paycheck isn’t gonna be here until next week. Is it cool if I can pay you a little late? I’ll double it to make up for it.”

“Nah, you’re good. I can wait. Megumi’s my favourite little client.” You tucked your hands into the pockets of your jeans as Toji grabbed his dinner and brushed past you. “Jesus, Mr. Zenin. You smell like cement.”

“Cut me some slack, kid.”

“I’m twenty-two. Not a kid.”

“If you’re younger than me”—he jabbed his fork in your direction—“you’re still a kid. Capiche?”

“Eating pasta doesn't grant you Italian citizenship,” you teased. He rolled his eyes as you snatched your backpack. “Well, I’ll see you Monday evening, then.”

“Leaving so soon?”

You quirked a brow and raised your phone. “It’s ten in the evening.”

“That’s early. Come on, stay and grab a bite. Wanna share?”

Your stomach rumbled in agreement. And hey, a little extra time with Toji wouldn’t be the worst thing. Among all the parents, he was the only one you felt at ease being around late at night. He felt more like a good friend than just another guardian.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” You set down your bag and snagged an extra fork, sliding onto the stool beside him. He placed the container between you two, ensuring you got enough of your separate fill.

“Your feeding your fucking hair, sweetheart,” he commented, collecting your hair back. His fingers brushed over the side of your neck making it hard for you to swallow.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, quickly gathering your hair into a ponytail. Toji continued to chew slowly, his gaze fixed on you. “What?”

“You always had a mole there?” He pointed below your jaw where a prominent beauty mark tattooed your skin.

“I’m offended that you’ve just noticed now.”

He finished chewing. “You don’t tie your hair up often.”

“Would you like me to?” You twirled your spaghetti around your fork.

“I like your hair down,” he admitted, his gaze lingering a moment longer than necessary. “But maybe not while we’re eating. Don’t want them getting dirty.”

You rolled your eyes and took a large bite, cheeks puffing out as you chewed.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Toji grumbled, swiping away the speck of tomato sauce from the corner of your mouth. His tongue darted out to clear it, followed by another swipe of his hand. The tomato sauce probably matched the colour of your skin from that gesture. “Ever thought about hiring a nanny for yourself?”

“No, but I might have someone to take care of me in a month.”

Toji paused and dragged his eyes towards you. “Who?”

“Just a boy from my class,” you replied nonchalantly, poking your fork in the meatball. “He’s cute, sure. Plus, he’s a hockey player. Basically the epitome of the perfect, conventional, bring-home-to-mom-and-dad kind of guy.”

Toji took a deliberate sip of his beer. “If that’s what you’re into.”

“You say it like you’re an expert on my taste.”

“I’ve known you for a year, darling. You never struck me as someone who’d go for a poster boy.”

“Then who do you think I’d go for?” you asked softly. Green eyes locked with yours in a tense silence. “Since you seem to have me all figured out.”

Toji stole a quick glance at your lips, then darted his eyes toward the door of his son's bedroom. He fought back the surge of temptation bubbling up inside him, tightening his grip on the beer can in his hand. “Maybe I haven’t gotten to know you well enough.” He went to take a bite but you quickly interrupted by grasping his hand and guiding his fork toward your mouth.

With the spaghetti twirled around it, you brought it to your lips, savouring the taste as you chewed slowly, all the while locking eyes with his emerald gaze. He observed your throat as you swallowed, his attention now fully magnetised by your flushed face.

As you licked the sauce from the corners of your lips, and wrapped your mouth around your thumb to clean it, Toji’s pulse quickened. “I’m an open book for you, Mr. Zenin.” You rose from your seat, reaching for your backpack. He couldn't tear his gaze away, transfixed by the sight of your ass. “Have a wonderful time beating yourself off to my pictures tonight.”

Toji’s gaze flickered to his undeniable bulge straining against his jeans, a curse slipping past his lips. Downing his beer as you moved away, he pushed off the stool, closing the distance with a predatory grace, catching you in the middle of tying your shoelaces.

Your eyes widened as he backed you against the door, trapping your arms above your head. His knee insinuated itself between yours, his breath hot against your lips as he snarled.

“He’s made dinner reservations at an Italian restaurant next week,” you whispered. “Unless you don’t want me sharing pasta with him like it’s a fucking Disney movie, I suggest you kiss me now, Toji.”

“God, that fucking mouth of yours.” A broad smile appeared at his lips as he pressed them hungrily against yours. Your body responded instinctively, grinding against his thigh in a desperate plea for more. Toji’s grip on your wrists loosened, his hand finding its way to your face, driving his tongue inside your mouth and flicking it against yours.

He lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he held onto your ass. Lost in the intoxication of your overdue kiss, Toji maintained some semblance of awareness, urgently guiding himself into the bathroom, where he settled you onto the counter.

Breaking away, but still holding your jaw, he smirked. “I smelled like shit, yeah?”

You shrugged. “Cement, but close enough.”

“Since you know it all, you’re gonna help me clean it off.” He stripped off his shirt before reclaiming your lips once more, your hands roaming eagerly over his chest and around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. You’d waited a whole year for this.

Toji removed your jacket, then paused to peel off your t-shirt. He unhooked your bra with a single motion, pulling you close against him. The sensation of your nipples grazing against his chest hair made you momentarily gasp for air.

“You good?” he whispered, palming the side of your head.

“So good.” You lunged at him again. He stumbled backward, bringing you with him until you both found yourselves inside the shower stall. His muscular arms coiled around you, pulling you closer as he ravaged your mouth.

Meanwhile, you shed your sweatpants and panties, while Toji unclasped his jeans and tossed them aside along with the rest of your clothes. He briefly opened his eyes, his mouth moving in sync with your desperate one, as he reached to twist the shower faucet open.

The first layer of cold water made you shiver and break apart. You and Toji stared at one another, your gazes lowering in tandem to study your naked bodies. He was big. So big. And extremely hard. His pink tip reached up to naval. Covered in veins that pulsed at a closer look.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, sweetheart,” Toji said, stepping closer to you. Your back met the cold surface of the stall’s glass wall. His large hands cupped your breasts and travelled down to your hips. “You've been hiding all of this under those stupid looking sweaters?”

“I happen to like my sweaters, thank you very much.”

“Baby, they’re ugly.”

You rolled your eyes and smiled. He continued to laugh at his own comment until you gripped his dick.

He stopped immediately.

“What’s wrong, Mr. Zenin?” Your hands moved in an elevated pattern. “Cat got your cock?” He planted his palms on either side of your head. You added twists and rolls, ones that had him at your mercy. Then you sank down onto your knees and swirled your tongue around him, sucking him off. He was breathing hard and fast, and his fingers gripped your hair. “Fuck my throat until I can’t speak for a week.”

Toji snapped.

He thrusted deep, deep down your throat and relished in the gagging sounds you made. “Holy fuck, baby. You’re so good at taking my cock.” Your nail sank into his hips, eyes rolling back to your skull. He forced you to open your eyes by pulling at your hair. “Fucking look at me, you little slut.” He shoved himself deeper and held your face against his pelvis. You scratched against his skin to take a breather while choking on his hot gush of release. There was nothing to swallow when he pulled your head back, releasing his dick from the confines of your mouth.

You coughed out, drumming your fist against your chest to regain control of your lungs. A hand wrapped around your arm and stood you up.

Toji held your jaw and inspected you closely with a twinge of concern. “Was I too hard on you, doll?”

You nodded but raised a thumbs up. “Fantastic.” Probably the best blow-job you’ve ever given—even if Toji was mostly in control.

His lips met yours in a soft kiss, allowing the water to wash away at your bodies. He massaged his fingers through your scalp, and, in contrast, gave your left asscheek a sharp slap. “Turn around. It’s my turn to eat.”

Your chest pasted against the glass wall. Toji pressed himself against your back and slithered his hand down to cup your pussy. He grunted in your ear delivering a slap to it and hearing you squeak from the impact. His fingers pinched your clit and parted your folds. Easily, he fitted two fingers into your hole. “Jesus. You’re so fucking tight. No one’s been in this pussy before, baby?”

“A few,” you said. “But they were smaller.”

Toji curled his fingers inside of you. “A dirty whore like you needs something bigger. Don’t you, doll?” You moaned against the glass, your cheek pressed to the surface. “Tell me, baby. You need my fat cock to stretch out your tiny cunt? Need me to shape it to my cock’s size?”

“Y-Yes—ah.” You arched your back the second his calloused thumb started circling your clit. “Fuck, Toji—oh, fuck. Faster.” He drove in a third finger and his free hand clapped over your mouth to suppress your cry.

“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed in your ear. “Can you do that for me, doll?” You nodded and he pushed you forward, kneeling down and spreading your asscheeks. “My pussy. You hear that? This is my fucking pussy.” He dragged his tongue over it and up to your little puckered hole.

You were high on the sounds of him slurping at your release, sucking your folds into his mouth, and teasing your asshole with the tip of his tongue. This was not how you imagined your Friday night to go, but you weren’t gonna complain. You’ve been fantasising about this moment since Toji caught you putting up babysitting flyers in his neighbourhood.

“My dick’s gonna break off if I don’t put it in now.” He wrapped your hair around his palm and positioned himself at your entrance. “Ready, doll?”

“Fuck me, Toji. Please.”

He could get off on your begging alone.

His hips thrusted forward, his cock filling you to the hilt. He pulled back out and drove in—repeatedly, relentlessly. His palm came down with a bruising slap on your ass without a break. Toji wasn’t going to be satisfied until they were discoloured, until you couldn’t sit down for days.

Seeing you wanton and moaning his name flicked a switch in his brain. He was going to brandish you in a way that you wouldn’t leave him for weeks. Months. Years. You’d be at his side until your children were arranging your joint funerals. The strange feeling inside his chest felt foreign, almost hindered the speed at which he was rutting in you. This was his first time fucking you after a year of pining and jerking himself off to your picture and he was already envisioning a romantic-movie montage.

Toji leaned his face back so the water washed away the vision. Then he pulled out and turned you around, kissing your gasping mouth. He entered inside you again, hoisting one leg up. His fingers pinned you in place by your throat while violating your—his—pussy.

“I’m gonna come inside you,” he breathed out over your swollen lips.

“Do it.”

Toji suppressed his groan by crushing his mouth against yours, a guttural growl producing from his throat. His release was everlasting, filling your inside to the brim. You came crashing down, holding the back of his hair and breaking away to breathe. His face nuzzled in the crook of your neck, equally panting. Those large hands settled on your throbbing ass as he completed the last bits of his ministrations.

You were both out of breath as you stared at one another.

Toji blinked when you hugged him around his torso. His arms remained frozen at his side, glimpsing down at your crown. You looked up with those big, doe-eyes and a full-blown smile. Oh, he was so fucked.

The remainder of the night was spent washing and drying each other, before tangling your naked bodies in bed.

Toji continuously kissed your lips, his hand running up and down your back. You laid atop his chest, his cock buried within you as you gently rowed your hips back and forth. He planned to keep it nestled in you for the rest of the night.

“Spend the weekend with me,” he murmured, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “We’ll go out for dinner at an Italian restaurant with Megumi.”

“Yeah?” You pecked his nose. “We’ll look like a little family.”

“That little shit already considers you his mother.”

You chuckled and brushed the tendrils of hair away from his forehead. “Maybe another time. College’s been kicking my ass. Gotta catch up on those assignments if I wanna graduate with honours.”

Toji found himself desolated. “Can’t you just study here?”

“Not with two babies whining and crying for my attention.”

He gave your ass a light smack. You feigned a wince making him caress it immediately.

“But I can come over in the evening,” you said. “We can go out for ice-cream.”

He smiled at the fact that you were going to make time for him and his son despite your busy schedule. “Ice-cream it is.”

You laid your head down on his shoulder and adjusted yourself comfortably on his cock. “Goodnight, Mr. Zenin.”

“Goodnight, doll.” He rested one hand on the back of your head and the other massaging your ass, staring up at the ceiling where his vision played for the rest of night.

Toji smiled.

2K notes · View notes

wchswift · 6 months ago

Text

ଓ The apple pie life

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader Summary: you and Dean are tasked with going undercover as a married couple in a suburban neighborhood to investigate a string of mysterious disappearances linked to a local HOA. Content: fluff, one kiss, angst (kinda), idiots oblivious to their own feelings, hunting/working a case, mentions of murders, demons, spells, not proofread, English isn’t my first language :) Word count: 4k a/n: I've been keeping this in my drafts for a while now and while life happens and I work on my dofp!logan one shot, I decided to post this :) I hope you enjoy it

mdni 𖤐 18+

“Yeah, no. This ain’t happening.” Dean Winchester stood at the edge of a freshly mowed lawn, surveying the neighborhood like it was a Hellmouth in disguise. Which, for all they knew, it very well could be. Rows of cookie-cutter houses lined the street, each painted in calming shades of beige, sage, or blue. Even the mailboxes were identical. Dean glared at one as if it had personally offended him.

Sam sighed, arms crossed, watching his brother’s tantrum. “Dean, it’s a neighborhood. Not a death sentence.”

“You’re asking me to pretend to be Mr. Suburbia. Me. You know I don’t do...” Dean gestured vaguely at a garden gnome. “This.”

Standing between the two of them, you held a faux wedding photo that Sam had printed for the cover story. “We’re married. You’re a mechanic. I work from home. We moved here for the good schools. Sound familiar?” you said with a smirk, holding the picture up.

Dean snatched the frame and scowled at the image. “I look like a hostage,” he muttered.

“You always look like that,” you shot back. “Now come on, let’s get unpacked. Our ‘friendly neighborhood welcome committee’ is stopping by in an hour.”

Dean groaned, but there was no backing out. Sam had been adamant: five people had disappeared from this very block in the past six months. The only connection? All were new to the neighborhood, and all had been avid participants in the HOA’s activities.

“Fine,” Dean grumbled, hoisting a box from the Impala. “But I’m not calling you ‘honey.”

Dean’s idea of "unpacking" consisted of dumping boxes onto the floor and shoving furniture into place like he was playing Tetris with his life. You trailed behind him, trying to make the house look halfway livable. It wasn't easy; the entire setup resembled a sitcom scenario, complete with ruffled curtains and throw pillows that Sam insisted would help you blend in.

Dean picked up one of the pillows, squinting at the stitched slogan: Home Sweet Home. “This thing screams demon bait,” he muttered, tossing it onto the couch.

“Maybe if you acted like a halfway decent husband, it wouldn’t,” you quipped, earning a low chuckle from Sam.

“Yeah, hilarious,” Dean shot back, hauling a box of what appeared to be mismatched kitchen supplies onto the counter. “This is my nightmare, by the way. Thought you should know.”

“It’s not exactly a dream for me either, sweetie,” you replied, stressing the endearment with a sugary grin. Dean’s eye roll could’ve powered the whole neighborhood.

The doorbell chimed just as you finished arranging a vase of fake flowers in the living room. Dean peered through the peephole like he expected to see a mob of demons. Instead, a group of impeccably dressed neighbors smiled back at him.

“Kill me now,” Dean muttered, opening the door.

A blonde woman with a Stepford-wife grin and a clipboard stepped forward. “Hi there! Welcome to the neighborhood! I’m Lana, the HOA president. And these are Sheila and Rick, your next-door neighbors!”

Dean gave his best approximation of a smile, though it looked more like a grimace. “Uh, hey. I’m Dean. This is my—uh—wife.”

You plastered on your most winning smile and shook hands all around. “So nice to meet you all!”

Lana’s eyes swept over the living room, clearly appraising your decor. “You’ve done such a lovely job already! Oh, and Dean, we’ll have our weekly HOA meeting at the clubhouse tomorrow night. We expect all new residents to attend. You’ll come, won’t you?”

Dean opened his mouth, likely to come up with an excuse, but you elbowed him. “We’d love to,” you said quickly.

“Wonderful!” Lana chirped. “I’ll leave you with the neighborhood handbook. Everything you need to know is right here.” She handed over a spiral-bound monstrosity of rules and regulations before bustling off with her entourage.

Dean stared at the handbook like it might explode. “Fifty bucks says they’re part of a cult.”

That night, Sam joined you both in the kitchen, where you poured over the HOA handbook. Sam had come by under the guise of helping you move in but was really playing the role of a nosy family friend who conveniently lived a few towns over.

“Okay,” Sam said, flipping through pages. “This is weird. Every house here has to have a specific type of lawn ornament? And look at this—rules about curfew, holiday decorations, even what kind of car you can park in your driveway.”

“Classic control freaks,” Dean muttered, popping open a beer.

“Or something worse,” Sam countered, pointing to a line about mandatory attendance at neighborhood socials. “People start disappearing, and the HOA gets more power over the remaining residents. It seems like they're under some spell… perhaps they made a pact? Maybe with a demon.”

Dean groaned. “Great. So it’s not just bad casseroles we have to survive.”

“We need to hit that meeting tomorrow,” you said. “Whatever’s going on, that’s where we’ll find the first clue.”

The next evening, you and Dean made your way to the HOA meeting at the neighborhood clubhouse, blending in among the perfectly groomed crowd. Everyone was dressed like they were auditioning for a suburban magazine spread: crisp polos, floral blouses, and smiles that didn’t quite reach their eyes.

Dean leaned closer to you, muttering, “Tell me this doesn’t feel like a Stepford reboot.”

You elbowed him lightly, smiling for the neighbors. “Try to look like you’re not plotting their demise, honey.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, adjusting his flannel like it was armor. “Let’s just hope these people don’t sacrifice newcomers to their God of Lawn Care.”

Inside the clubhouse, Lana, the HOA president, stood at the front of the room, clipboard in hand. She welcomed everyone with her signature cheerfulness, but you couldn’t miss the way her eyes scanned the crowd, lingering on the newcomers—you and Dean.

“Now, let’s get started!” she chirped. “First order of business: Mr. Peterson’s garden gnomes. We’ve had complaints they’re too whimsical.”

Dean raised an eyebrow at you, mouthing, too whimsical? You struggled not to laugh.

The meeting droned on, a mix of petty complaints and rigid enforcement of bizarre rules, until Lana’s tone shifted.

“And finally,” she said, her voice dropping an octave, “a reminder that all residents are expected to attend next week’s neighborhood barbecue. Remember, harmony is our greatest strength. We’re all part of something... bigger here.”

Her words sent a ripple of unease through the room. Most of the neighbors nodded dutifully, but a few glanced nervously at each other. You caught Dean’s gaze, and his expression was sharp, all traces of humor gone.

Later that night, back at the house, you pored over what you’d observed with Sam and Dean.

“It’s not just the rules,” you said, pacing the living room. “It’s the way they act. Like they’re afraid of stepping out of line.”

“And what’s with Lana’s ‘bigger picture’ speech?” Dean added, tossing the HOA handbook onto the coffee table. “She’s definitely hiding something.”

Sam tapped at his laptop. “I did some digging. Lana moved into this neighborhood ten years ago, right before the HOA’s rules got so strict. Before that? No disappearances, no creepy cult vibes.”

Dean frowned. “So she’s the ringleader?”

“More like the summoner,” Sam replied, turning the screen to show an old news clipping. It detailed Lana’s involvement in occult studies years ago. “If she’s behind this, it’s not merely a pact. It’s using the HOA to enforce perfection, as it literally sustains the spell that keeps it anchored here.”

“So, the HOA handbook’s not just a pain in the ass,” you said, glancing at Dean. “It’s the demon’s playbook.”

The next morning, Dean decided to “blend in” by taking his role as a suburban husband to absurd levels.

You came downstairs to find him in an apron, flipping pancakes with an exaggerated flourish. “Morning, sweetheart!” he called, his grin annoyingly smug.

“What are you doing?” you asked, still half-asleep.

“Being the perfect husband,” he said, loading a plate with a stack of slightly burnt pancakes. “You should try it sometime, darling.”

The sarcasm in his tone made you roll your eyes, but you couldn’t suppress a small laugh. “If this is your idea of perfection, the demon’s going to smite us before lunch.”

Dean’s antics didn’t stop at pancakes. Later that day, he decided to tackle the front yard—shirtless, of course, because “that’s what husbands do, right?”

You stood on the porch, arms crossed, watching as he wrestled with the garden hose like it owed him money. His flannel was tossed onto a nearby fence, leaving his t-shirt in a crumpled heap in the corner. The summer sun glinted off his shoulders, and despite the ridiculousness of it all, you couldn’t help but stare.

“You know,” you called out, fighting a smirk, “the neighbors are going to think you’re some kind of exhibitionist.”

Dean glanced up, his grin wolfish. “Or they’ll think you’re married to the best damn landscaper on the block.”

“You missed a spot.” You pointed at a section of the lawn.

He mock-groaned, holding a hand to his chest like you’d mortally wounded him. “Man slaves away, and this is the thanks he gets? No wonder I’m burned out on marriage.”

“Burned out implies you ever tried,” you shot back, leaning against the doorframe.

Dean’s expression shifted, just for a moment—a flash of something vulnerable, quickly buried under his usual bravado. “Yeah, well... guess I never found the right reason to try.”

The air between you grew heavier, the teasing edge dulled by an undercurrent you didn’t quite know how to address. He broke eye contact first, turning back to the yard. “Don’t just stand there, princess. Grab a rake or something.”

The barbecue was the kind of event you’d have laughed at if you weren’t actively part of it. Neatly arranged folding tables with checkered cloths stretched across the neighborhood park, and neighbors mingled with drinks in hand, every one of them smiling just a little too wide.

Dean leaned against the grill, flipping burgers with the same intensity he used while sharpening knives. “This is a trap. You know that, right?” he muttered, glancing around.

“Obviously,” you replied, sipping a too-sweet lemonade. “But we’re undercover, remember? Try to act like you’re enjoying yourself.”

Dean’s grin was laced with sarcasm. “Oh yeah, I’m having a blast. Love talking about lawn fertilizer and HOA-approved fence heights.”

Just then, Lana appeared beside the two of you, her ever-present clipboard tucked under her arm. “Dean, those burgers smell amazing! And you—” She turned to you with that polished grin. “You’re just glowing, aren’t you? Married life suits you two so well.”

Dean, never one to miss an opportunity, slung an arm around your shoulders. “Well, Lana, we’re just one big, happy couple.” He punctuated the sentence with a quick kiss to your temple, the smug look on his face daring you to react.

You forced a tight smile. “Couldn’t be happier.”

Lana beamed, but her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Wonderful to hear. It’s so important to maintain harmony in the neighborhood.” She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping. “After all, everything falls apart if even one house doesn’t meet expectations.”

Dean’s arm stiffened against your shoulder, his instincts flaring. “Is that right?”

Lana nodded, her expression unreadable. “Absolutely. Well, I won’t keep you. Enjoy the barbecue!”

Once Lana was out of earshot, you and Dean regrouped with Sam near the dessert table.

“She’s hiding something,” you said, cutting straight to the point.

“Definitely,” Dean agreed, setting his plate down. “And what’s with the whole ‘harmony’ thing? She sounded like a cult leader.”

Sam nodded, keeping his voice low. “She is. It is indeed a deal, an exchange. The more the neighborhood conforms to the rules, the stronger it gets. People who can’t meet the standards? They’re the ones who disappear.”

You frowned. “So the HOA rules aren’t just annoying—they’re literally fuel for this thing.”

Dean’s jaw tightened. “Well, good news. We’ve got the perfect distraction right here.” He gestured at himself and you with a smirk.

“Perfect distraction?” you repeated.

“Think about it,” he said. “We’re new, we’re not exactly HOA material, and if anyone’s gonna tick off a demon about their precious rules, it’s us.”

Sam sighed. “Just be careful. If the demon gets wind of what you’re doing, it won’t wait for you to break a rule—it’ll come for you directly.”

The first crack in the HOA’s perfectly polished façade came two days after Dean decided to rebel in his own loud, stubborn way. The offending incident? A single garden gnome—brightly painted and flipping the bird—set proudly on your front lawn.

You crossed your arms, staring at the gnome as Dean lounged against the doorframe. “Really?”

Dean grinned, proud as a kid showing off a bad report card. “What? It’s art.”

“It’s bait,” you corrected, shaking your head.

“Exactly.” He smirked, arms crossed. “Lana won’t know what hit her.”

Sure enough, Lana arrived within the hour, clipboard in hand and fury barely masked beneath her painted smile. “Dean, we need to discuss your lawn decorations,” she said through gritted teeth.

Dean stepped outside, wearing the smuggest expression you’d ever seen. “What’s the problem, Lana? Don’t you like art?”

She blinked, momentarily stunned by his audacity, before recovering. “This neighborhood thrives on harmony. Your—choice of ornament—disrupts that balance.”

Dean leaned casually against the porch railing. “Huh. Didn’t see anything in the handbook about freedom of expression being against the rules.”

You watched from the window, biting back a laugh as Lana sputtered, her usual control slipping. She left with a curt, “This isn’t over.”

After Lana stormed off, you expected Dean to be all bravado and quips, but instead, he started fixing the fence. It was such a rare sight that you almost did a double take.

“What are you doing?” you asked, leaning against the porch post.

“Making sure the place doesn’t fall apart,” Dean replied, hammering a nail into place. “If we’re staying here long enough to take down a demon, might as well make it look good.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t know you were so handy, Mr. Winchester.”

He smirked, not looking up. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m full of surprises.”

That night, you found Dean in the kitchen, you noticed Dean seemed... different. Focused. Almost like he belonged here. He stirred a pot of chili with a level of precision that rivaled his aim with a gun.

“You’re surprisingly good at this,” you remarked, leaning against the counter.

Dean shrugged. “I used to cook for Sammy when we were kids. Guess some habits stick.”

The soft admission caught you off guard. For all his bravado, moments like these reminded you of the man underneath—the one who took care of everyone else, even when he didn’t have to.

“This is weird,” you muttered, setting the table.

Dean looked over at you. “What is?”

“You. Doing all this domestic stuff. It’s like you’re... enjoying it.”

Dean shrugged, placing the bowls of chili on the table. “I don’t hate it. Beats getting shot at every day.”

“Guess you’re not half-bad at this husband thing after all,” you teased.

Dean smirked, his usual cockiness back in place. “Don’t let it go to your head, sweetheart.”

Later, the two of you sat on the couch, flipping through channels. Sam had gone back to his motel, leaving you and Dean with a rare bit of downtime.

The sound of the TV faded into the background as Dean spoke up. “You ever think about it? A normal life, I mean.”

You looked over at him, surprised. “Sometimes. Why?”

He leaned back, one hand draped along the back of the couch, his expression unusually serious. “I don’t know. It’s just... this case, all this fake domestic stuff... It’s kinda nice. Not worrying about what’s lurking around the corner every second.”

“You’ve never thought about it before?” you asked gently.

Dean gave a short laugh, his gaze distant. “Nah. Figured it wasn’t in the cards. Even when I was a kid, normal wasn’t exactly in the Winchester playbook.”

His words hung in the air, heavier than you’d expected.

“Maybe it’s not about the cards you’re dealt,” you said softly. “Maybe it’s about finding your own kind of normal.”

He turned to look at you, his green eyes searching yours. For a moment, the air between you felt charged, but he broke the gaze first, his usual smirk returning. “Well, my kind of normal definitely involves better TV shows than this crap.”

You laughed, nudging his shoulder. “Fair enough.”

The tender moment passed quickly as the two of you turned back to the case.

The next morning, Sam returned with a crucial discovery. “Lana made a deal with a demon ten years ago. She wanted the perfect neighborhood, and the demon delivered. But the cost? Anyone who doesn’t fit her version of perfection gets sacrificed to keep the deal going.”

Dean clenched his jaw. “So she’s trading lives for lawn perfection? Well, that’s messed up.”

Sam nodded. “It thrives off the conformity she enforces. The more people play by the rules, the stronger the demon gets. The ones who disappear? They’re used as sacrifices to maintain the spell.”

Dean stood abruptly. “Great. So we take down the demon, and her whole Stepford act goes up in flames.” He looked at you. “But first, we gotta piss her off enough to make a move.”

After talkng with Sam, you and Dean turned the dial on your undercover roles.

You started your day loudly arguing in the driveway about “trivial” things—how Dean never folded the laundry right, how you “always” bought the wrong coffee creamer.

Dean played it up like a pro, throwing his hands in the air dramatically. “Fine! Next time, you go grocery shopping!”

“Oh, because you’re so busy, huh?” you shot back, struggling not to laugh.

So you two just keeped violating the rules. Determined to push Lana past her breaking point, Dean added strung mismatched Christmas lights across the front porch, even though it was July.

“Dean,” you said, standing in the driveway with crossed arms, “I’m pretty sure even the demon is rolling its eyes at this point.”

Dean grinned as he plugged in the lights, which flickered in a garish rainbow. “Oh, come on, admit it. This is the most fun we’ve had on a case in months.”

You couldn’t argue with that. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re married to me,” he shot back, winking. “You know,” Dean said, leaning in close as you adjusted the strand of blinking lights, “we make a pretty good team when we’re breaking all the rules.”

You smirked. “Better than your pancake-making team, that’s for sure.”

He laughed, the sound rich and unguarded. “Touché.”

Lanas’s car pulled up just as Dean propped his flamingo lawn ornament next to the mailbox. Her expression was a masterclass in repressed rage as she stepped out, clipboard in hand.

“Dean!” she barked, her voice sharp enough to make the neighbors glance over from their gardening.

He sauntered up to her, feigning innocence. “Morning, Lana. Lovely day, isn’t it?”

Her smile was brittle, her grip on the clipboard tightening. “We need to talk.”

Dean’s escalating antics had done the trick. By the time night fell, Lana’s perfectly polished demeanor had cracked. She called an emergency HOA meeting, under the pretense of “addressing a disturbance in harmony.”

“You ready for this?” Dean asked as the three of you crouched outside the clubhouse, peeking through a window.

“I’ve been ready since the gnome,” you replied, flashing him a quick grin.

Sam whispered, “Looks like she’s prepping for a ritual. We need to stop her before she completes it.”

Dean nodded. “Sam, you cut off the ritual. We’ll handle Lana.”

“We?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Dean smirked. “What, you don’t trust me?”

“Not as far as I can throw you,” you shot back, but the teasing tone didn’t quite mask the warmth in your words.

The two of you burst through the clubhouse door just as Lana lit the final candle on an ornate altar covered in sigils. The neighbors, all eerily quiet, stood in a semicircle around her, their expressions blank and glassy-eyed.

“Lana!” Dean called out, his voice cutting through the room. “You forgot to put this on the HOA agenda.”

She turned, her face twisting into something feral. “You don’t understand,” she hissed. “This neighborhood is perfect because of me. Because of what I’ve done!”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, well, your definition of perfect kinda sucks.”

Lana snarled, grabbing a knife from the altar and lunging at him. You moved instinctively, stepping in to block her path. Together, you and Dean fought her off, moving in perfect sync.

She was fast, unnaturally so, but you matched her step for step, Dean covering your back with practiced ease. At one point, she swung the knife in a wide arc, and Dean caught her wrist, twisting it just enough for you to knock the blade free.

“You good?” he asked, glancing at you.

You nodded, catching your breath. “I’m fine. You?”

“Peachy,” he replied, his grin full of adrenaline-fueled bravado.

Behind you, Sam chanted Latin, his voice steady as he worked to dismantle the ritual. The sigils on the altar began to glow, flickering as the power binding the neighborhood started to unravel.

Realizing she was losing, Lana screamed, “You’ll ruin everything! Without this deal, this place will fall apart!”

Dean shrugged, stepping closer. “Good. Then maybe it’ll feel a little more human.” With a final swing, he knocked her unconscious, the force of it sending her crumpling to the floor.

Sam finished the ritual just as the sigils burned out entirely, plunging the room into silence. The neighbors blinked, their blank expressions fading as they seemed to wake from a dream.

“It’s over,” Dean said, his voice low.

Outside the clubhouse, you leaned against the Impala, catching your breath. The air felt lighter now, the oppressive weight of the neighborhood’s perfection finally lifted.

Dean stood a few feet away, looking at you with an unreadable expression. For once, he seemed at a loss for words.

“You okay?” you asked softly, stepping closer.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. “Just... thinking.”

“Dangerous habit,” you teased, but the smile you gave him was gentle.

Dean’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, everything else faded away. Before you could think, he closed the distance between you, his lips crashing into yours.

The kiss was intense, filled with all the emotions he’d been holding back—relief, affection, gratitude and something deeper, something unspoken. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Took me long enough, huh?”

You laughed softly, your hand resting against his chest. “Yeah. But worth the wait.”

᭝ ᨳଓ𓂃⋆.

The next morning, as the three of you packed up to leave, Dean was back to his usual self—mostly.

Dean hesitated, glancing at the house. “Gotta admit,” he said, his voice softer than usual, “this whole domestic thing... wasn’t the worst.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really? I thought you hated it.” Dean smirked, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, well, turns out I don’t suck at it. Could even get used to it, maybe.”

“You know,” he said, leaning against the Impala as you loaded the last bag into the trunk, “this whole married thing has its perks.”

“Oh yeah?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He smirked. “Yeah. Hot meals, shared insurance benefits, someone to remind me when I forget my wallet.”

You rolled your eyes, shoving him lightly. “God, you’re insufferable.”

He shook his head, but there was a warmth in his gaze as he looked at you. “Maybe in another life.”

You didn’t answer, but the smile tugging at your lips gave you away. Dean opened the driver’s side door, his usual cocky grin back in place. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s hit the road.” You climbed in, Dean kissing you on the head before closing the door.

As the Impala roared to life and the too-perfect neighborhood disappeared in the rearview mirror, you couldn’t help but think about Dean’s earlier words. Maybe this undercover mission had been more than just a case.

Maybe, in some small way, it had given both of you a glimpse of what could be.

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!

#꣖ ີ ꣓ writes.#dean winchester 🪽#dean winchester angst #dean winchester one shot #dean supernatural #supernatural dean #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x fem reader #dean winchester drabble #jackles #jensen ackles #jensen ackles drabble #dean winchester x female!reader #supernatural #supernatural drabble #dean winchester fluff

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gangplanksorenji · 9 months ago

Text

Pulchritude

Pairing: ITZY’s Yeji x Male Reader

Word Count: 7,089

A/N: It's been a while Orenjideul! This wasn't planned to be on my draft schedule but planned at the same time LOL (pretty much quickly written). Also, thanks for @mintwithchoco for the beta-reading that made the insights about the fic!!

This was originally part of something I've been working on with and expanded it with such vague plot to probably spice things up. Enjoy reading!! <3

---------------------

“You’re crazy for this one, Chaewon.”

“It’s not my doing—” Chaewon retorts, circling her fingers onto the rim of her glass with such a distinctive smell of a concoction that piques you, distracting you a little from her words. “—this is just a part of a test.”

She drinks from her glass and darts her eyes towards you, laced with anticipation and that hint of doubt in you. You smirk with her given stare, feeling that she's getting ahead of herself with it and she’ll soon eat up her words. Extending your arm a little onto the head of the chair, you look at her with vanity and such a playful intent that intimidates her a little. “I’d say you being here is somewhat helpful by all means…”

“And why is that?”

Her eyes never fail to intimidate you, those orbs glowing in anticipation as she doesn't break her sophisticated demeanor. You fix your posture and lean closer to her, elbows on the table and your hands subtly clasped, answering her. “So I could let you know that you’ll be embarrassed at the end of the day.”

Chaewon’s hubris wouldn’t let your words slide and make her believe you, a chortle audible within your ears as she shifted onto her usual phlegmatic disposition. “We’ll see about that but for now—” Her well-manicured nails click the champagne glass two times, before giving a sly smile of a faulty sincerity. “—you gotta do what you gotta do.”

It wouldn’t end in a usual Chaewon fashion unless her drink is empty, sipping the last few milliliters of that delectable concoction, then getting off on her seat with her last words of the night. “Text me when you’ve done it, then we'll meet tomorrow afternoon.”

Grabbing her designer bag then leaving towards the doors of such a high-class bar, you could just sense the air reeking defeat all over you, but you’ll prove her wrong. You’ll just thank yourself for getting rid of her condescending nature albeit it really fuels your aim for victory, so is the upbeat music the bar brings.

You’ll make things work and take that triumphant ecstasy up to your name, with someone’s panties on the floor.

“I guess we need the devil inside me to take over.” Of course you will, and you’ll do that just about right.

---

Maybe the myths are true: sometimes, the devil does unspeakable things and it’s only a matter of time before it unveils its real nature. Not exactly an excerpt, a quote or the sayings of the elderly but mostly your own common conscience that has its own intersections of roads you can’t fathom nor follow—deep inside, you’re on a leash and Chaewon’s words intoxicates you, and you’ll prove her wrong after this.

“We’re going to have some fun tonight.”

“Oh, do you think we will?” You ask pretty playfully and audaciously, playing with her possible games. You barely know her aside from being that time where you’d constantly steal glances with her during and after Chaewon’s existence at the bar and subconsciously know you’d always come. At that moment, you know something’s disturbed within you and it’s in a good way—this is something that’s completely going to serve gratification, and you can sense how strong your gut feeling is.

“We will.” The girl inches herself closer towards you, your back pressed against the cold concrete as she pins you with her frame, fidgeting her fingers onto the hem of your shirt and then the penultimate, such dexterous fingers circling around your chest.

You feel her minty breath mixed with a hint of tequila brush against your skin as you raise her head, eyes in contact with yours—you know she’s proving something, even just with her words but those wouldn’t be enough.

“Care for an introduction?” Your hands fancy its way onto her waist, as you endearingly looked at those sharp, monolid eyes of hers rivaling that alluring stare.

Her eyes dart between your face and onto your body, as her voice speaks up in a volume.“Yeji. You can call me Yeji.”

Her voice invites you, and you’re captivated with her sultry tone and god, that stare of hers would make any man fall upon your own judgment but on your shoes, it would bear such a challenge. Even with such temptation handled pretty well, you can’t help but hint such an invitation under her spell—those eyes, her sultry voice, such a beautiful face and the promised treasure of them all, her impeccable figure.

You’d like to start on something fresh, induce such a new chapter that’s bound to end up in such an incredible fashion but you could only assume those things, yet.

Well, you won’t fight yourself over some idiotic retaliation between your temptations and let yourself be the judge of her capabilities and this doesn’t help when she’s just inches away from laying such a mark that will define one’s lust.

Looking straight to the abyssal void of her eyes, you’re enticed as you lift off her chin with your finger. “There you go, I love a woman with manners.” You hit her up with her own medicine: tempting.

“Who says anything about manners?” Even such chagrins or predicaments wouldn’t stop her, not unless you tell her so as the only thing you could feel are those luscious lips locked against yours.

The sounds of such muscle creating vacuum of sounds and suctions overpowers the fading noise of the music the bar resonates—all you can hear is her kisses up against yours and you’d love to listen to it all day.

Nothing too short nor sweet, but god, this was enough to make such a bold verdict.

“A talented kisser, hm?” Yeji hums as she pulls away from your lips’ embrace, feeling captivated with the way you display such talent.

“A girl as pretty as you would make a man like this.” Your hands then freely roam to the limited skin her waist shows but you’re not the guy to complain, but to be grateful. “Now tell me something, Yeji…”

Yeji’s eyes widen; pupils dilate as she anticipates your next words, “Tell what?”

You smirk, as your buttons were pressed enough to make such a bold move. “Why would you want me? From all of the people there, why me?”

Yeji smirks just like you, then bites her lips, using such a modicum of her actions to indulge you even more. “I just know the world destined us to this moment—led us to this moment and god…” Yeji’s hands unbuttons the topmost button of your shirt as her hands permeate such heat onto your chest to push you onto the edge. “I know what you’re gonna give to me tonight.”

Such telepathic abilities enable you to read her thoughts, and you know exactly where she’s going towards, “Let me guess, a show for the world to know?”

“For the world to fucking know.” Yeji’s words end your sentence, and seal the deal.

Licking her lips in delight, you can feel her hands roam on your chest, your abdomen then the final stop, your growing bulge. She cups onto it like it’s something she would ruin and take care of, the best of both worlds as you let out such a nigh-inaudible moan, and Yeji knows exactly you’re liking this.

“You always need to ask.” And there she goes with her wonders.

All you can see is Yeji promptly getting on her knees, and with her absolute dexterity, does her talent to unbuckle and undress your bottom half more than a count to ten.

“God…” She’s mesmerized with the view she’s currently having: you, still in your boxers as her disposition clearly displays awe and amazement. “You’re hard already this fast? Must’ve turned you on too much?”

“Who wouldn’t with a girl like you?” It just shows your evident arousal, and Yeji’s grateful to bear such an entrance. Giving the green light, she then slowly strips off your boxers down to your ankles, mostly gravity doing the work and there she goes, such eyes gleaming with utter hunger and lust.

Her lips mouth such words full of awe as her hands cups the base of your erection, leisurely stroking it as she utters such profanity, “God, your cock is something else I didn’t expect.”

Your hubris just elevated, and let your commanding demeanor take over. “Glad it is. Now, show me what you’re made of.”

She wouldn’t lose against such a hubristic battle, and settles up for a possibly stellar moment. “I won’t disappoint.”

A clear view of her lips sends pecs around your length, letting you know the immediate worshiping and carnal needs fueling her for the time being. From the base up to your already leaking slit, she didn’t waste such precious time letting you know how much she loves this and it's just evident from the start.

She grows impatient with her repetitive kisses and ups the ante, knowing how this will make your world go wild. “I may just find myself occupied more with this.”

“Less talking and more sucking.” As much as her patience grows thinner by the second, and so are yours. She scoffs off a giggle, knowing that the main event will be such a roller coaster ride.

With the last suction of her lips collecting that colorless liquid, she advances onto something pleasurable. Her tongue then dances around your red cockhead, swirling and permeating her saliva around, upping such sensitivity on your end and with that result, you shiver and inevitably moan in response.

She suckles on your swollen head, then advances past your frenulum to do the wonder she does to your slit and god, this was elevating the experience of such gratification.

“God, s-such a talented mouth, huh?”

“Gifted, I guess.” She continues her oral assault on your throbbing length, thrusting her head up and down as she quickly accelerates the pace up to both your likings.

The quicker speed sums up the possible experience she has and it shows—such technique is unmatched with the way her tongue dances around your shaft and the little introduction of such a serrated culprit antagonizing the pleasure you’re experiencing, albeit, you wouldn’t bother with such little pain. She takes more than half of your shaft as spits dominate her heart-shaped lips, running down to her cheeks and onto her chin which shows the passion she’s giving in every second.

The occurrence won’t be complete without elevated stimulation: you’d just feel your balls being fondled by her right hand as she encourages more for you to feel.

And it’s working well, too well for you to utter such compliments. “You’d make myself occupied too, i-if you want—shit, that’s great…”

An audible mhmm can be heard between her bobs as she elevated the speed, then resulting into such a mess that’s just turning you on even more. Saliva continues to drip down onto her chin and onto your clothes that’s probably damned to be given care with, tears flowing down her cheek as she takes more and suddenly, she tests her limits with a single act of boldness and bravery.

She rests her nose onto your abdomen, testing her gag reflex as she’s determined to tame it but in the end, it wasn’t in her favor. Gasps escape her mouth as she catches her breath, saliva connected onto those sinful lips was just the cherry on top yet your grow little concern, afraid she may push herself too much as soon as she coughed. “You good, Yeji?”

“I’m good—I’m good, I’m g-great—your cock is just addicting.” The succulence was evident with her repeated slurps onto your shaft, and you’re just in total bliss with her performance.

Things are not done, and she’d like to end the business with a good note.

She proved herself enough and with her immediate harsh pace, you wouldn’t be a hypocrite nor lie about it. The blurry orange-bobbing head of hers just becomes a repeated image tarnished in your brain, etched until the end of time. She continues what she’s best at, gripping your thighs for further display of talent and as a reply with the surging pleasure coursing through your veins, you opted to fight the leverage with the gripping of your hands onto her audacious head.

Constant slurps, gags and moans just became the music in the air and it’s just the paramount mood you're indulged into. You’d be damned if someone will see the both of you in such a sinful act but you don��t care anymore, not when Yeji’s mouth does explicit wonders on every inch of your body and clouding your mind with such sinful thoughts.

The head game is literally onto another level of experience, but such things wouldn’t last for so long.

She can feel your persistent throbs in her mouth, and it’s a common courtesy to ask where it will end. “You’re pretty close, I assume.”

“Yeah—” You groan in pleasure as she strokes your saliva-sheathed cock with the utmost pace her hands can muster. “—and I want it all over your face.”

Yeji just smiled mischievously, knowing how things will end up on a pivotal climax and how things will unveil between the both of you. “Then do it—cover me.”

All you can see are those pretty, sharp eyes in awe as she closes it, her visage in full display for you to paint on. This is a canvas worth investing such artwork on and you’d besmirch it with such strokes worth millions. She moans as she feels each rope touches her face, mostly her cheeks, nose, lips, chin and some even getting onto her hair. Those fifteen seconds felt like a minute as you’re in a total state of bliss and for such a conclusion, she strokes you in hopes of milking you dry, emptying up your reservoir.

“God, that tasted great.” Yeji licks her lips and hums in satisfaction and when your senses are coming back to life, you ask her with such doubt.

“How would you clean up?”

Yeji chuckles as she stands up, facing you, “No one wouldn’t care.”

You smile sincerely as you dress your bottom-half up, satisfied as her voice invites you. “Let’s get out of here.”

She’s partly a monster; partly an angel in disguise, yet she can be the best of both worlds and it’s only a matter of time before depths will be reached.

---

Gone are the boisterous music ringing repeatedly in your ears and the alcohol that will probably dominate your body, because at this time, there’s nothing better than her lips locked against yours for the second time.

She feels ruthless and so were you, feeling her tongue dancing against yours and you gripping her waist harshly as you deepen such entanglement.

Her room was something pivotal about your already impeding arousal: dim lights, vanilla-scented air freshener and such a balcony for the both of you to enjoy, and maybe it’s something else than what’s usually known for people to do there.

“Never knew you could have such a room, Yeji.”

Yeji smirks as her nails dug into your skin gently, pressing it playfully as she mouthed her own pride. “This is nothing compared to anything you’ll see but for now, you’ll be more than my guest.” And then her eyes locked up against yours as those orbs wandered around your beautiful face.

Her eyes really tell you about her adoration, as the earlier test was just the tip of the iceberg, and guess what, you passed with flying colors.

“I’d love to be one, Yeji.”

You then share another torrid kiss with her, feeling attached to her ultimately and falling under her spell. She kisses you genuinely as you reciprocate, but you want more, so you pull out of her lips’ embrace, earning a moan from her as you find your way on peppering her neck with pecs and those sharp collar bones.

You’d eventually take a glance of her flawless features, even though it’s evident ruined by you earlier but it’s such an important element of such undying beauty. You earned your minuscule rewards—her faint moans and chants calling you—and you’d love to double it, with more skin, your lips parts and marks.

“God, please—fuck…” Yeji’s pleas are audible enough for you to be distracted and it’s worth your while knowing it’s something that could elevate such an experience.

“Please what, Yeji?” You continue pecking her creamy, porcelain skin, suckling on it but not enough to result in hickeys and god, it just resulted in sexier moans escaping her lips.

She’s struggling to articulate words that can formulate her wants, but she’d put up an end to such a clouding demise. “I want more—god—more, please…”

You grip her waist harsher, gaining such control as you pin her harder onto the wall and what a poor soul whimpering upon your own dominative assertion. You grant her needs as you caress her waist while peppering her with torrid kisses, resulting in such a cacophonous symphony that you would cherish hearing every second.

You wanted more from her and her answer still made your satisfaction resting onto a low zero. “What do you want from me, baby?”

The word elicits a gasp from her mouth, feeling appalled with such a name she always finds hot and funnily enough, the stars are aligning.

She whimpers but manages to think clearly and didn’t hesitate to be vocal about it, “Your cock, please—”

As she’s about to advance her hands onto your clothes crotch, you stop her as you shake your head leisurely, having another plan in mind. “No—have some patience and also…” Yeji’s eyes scintillate beneath the dim light that appears as she’s anticipating what words could leave your mouth. “I gotta return the favor.”

Your hands roamed its way onto the hem of her tight skirt, and asked such a question she can’t deny. “May I?”

She hitched a broken breath and gulped as she responded intimately, “Yes—yes, you can.”

Your fingers ran towards the edge of her skirt and eventually found the zipper and did such wonders, things that could easily soothe her and make her more comfortable. As much as you wanted to see it down on the floor, revealing her probably wet panties, you have other thoughts about your own, selfish arousal.

“Don’t want it on the floor?”

“This outfit, Yeji—” Your left hand then forced her figure pressed onto yours as she yelped with your immediate action, earning a startled whimper as her eyes looked at you like it’s her favorite candy. She loves your subtle harsh acts, and she won’t be deprived of any since this was just a gentle introduction. “—looks amazing on you.”

Yeji smiles as the compliment strokes her ego and how genuine you sounded, “Thanks, for—ooh, gosh!”

She yelped with your touch permeating on her legs as you roamed your hands towards her clothed regions which earned such a sultry, needy moan from Yeji. You can feel the heat that’s rivaling your cold hands and as the cherry on top, her wetness evident from her slit which is probably leaking right from the start.

You loosen up the zip of her skirt and god, she vocalizes how better it felt and maybe it’s mostly because of the fact that your fingers are pleasuring her crotch against that fine silk that’s about to be ruined thanks to your dexterity. It was pursuant to her and wherever she wants it, you’re going to follow it and with her subsequent moans, you’d like to let her know that your skills are up to par. Feeling the hunger running down your body, you can’t help but share another kiss, but this time, it feels chaste since all of the attention and unfeigned emotions are translated down with your fingers. They both felt like deprived lions from the wild, and such an inevitable kiss will bound to feed the pleasure the both of you are needing.

The evident bulge pokes down on your pants and Yeji was quick to notice that, cupping it and caressing to tame the beast. You moaned with her actions and so she is, too, but it's a repeated chant in your ears as she pleads with you for your own comfort. “Your cock, please.”

You didn’t care anymore, and knowing how the both of you wanted this then you wouldn’t deny her for doing the same thing you’re great at. Even with pleasure lingering onto every lobe in her brain, it won’t stop her to claim her promised prize as you help her undress your bottom-half, unbuckling your belt as she does the last step and all you can feel are your defenses going down, one by one as the raging beast that’s inside that clothed prison is about to be unshackled.

The wait was worth it and the both of you are now in such a vulnerable state that a single touch would make a writhe or shiver as sensitivity is the culprit. Yeji’s fingers are on point and dexterous as expected—the way she danced her hands around your shaft, stroking it in a corkscrew motion is making you feel such bliss that’s unmatched and god, the scene is just hot.

You never thought the sight of the both of you masturbating would be so damn arousing and thought it was just some myth but yet again, hypocrisy is eliminated within the time being.

“God—you really can’t wait, huh?”

“How can I? We need to mutually feel the same.” Yeji knows her pursuit against your aching beast wasn’t going to bother you, but rather the opposite. Her strokes were going livid as you groan with the lack of lubrication but it was exchanged by the pleasure that she gives you and of course, you wouldn’t lose onto this game and did the same, possibly vibrating your fingers and you maintain such an up and down motion which inevitably elicits such visceral moan from her.

The both of you did your best with your own expertise, doing such sinful things without even the main event is honestly criminal, and you would hold onto that because you want to make use of this and you’d prove to her you’re as good as she is.

“You’re fucking dripping, Yeji—god, did I turn you on so much?” Possibly a rhetorical question or maybe not, but either way, you know she’ll be a little irritated enough to defend her claim and quit such hypocrisy.

“N-No shit—you’re that talented too, huh?” You smile with her inadvertent compliment as you avert your eyes through her clothed crotch and it’s being ruined with her own doing, leaving such a masterpiece of clothing worthless, spoiled with her own juices.

“A natural, more likely—ah!” You yelp with Yeji’s sudden squeeze of your shaft in between her strokes as you glare at her playfully, her face then forming such a seductive smirk then a little scoff with your confidence.

“You’re cocky too? God, you’re such a rare gem.”

A rare find, you suppose which is truly the truth—you’ll prove to her that there’s no one she can find that will be better than you. Your impatience is growing thinner by the second even with such a hot mess between both your crotches, and you’d let her know about your frustrations and needs.

“Yeji, I need to fuck you now.”

The tone is commanding, your face stern and her eyes widen with those simple words of need. Your eyes meet hers and they never lie—those glowing orbs of yours didn’t cease the exhilaration you’re feeling and she’s the one to blame.

As much as it hurts for the both of you to stop, it will be rewarding once the climax settles in for such a spectacular show.

“How would you want me?” Yeji’s voice was bubbly but still hinting at that lace of seduction, being the alluring vixen that she is.

“Strip that skirt, lay onto your stomach, and lastly, feet onto the floor.”

She is as thrilled as you are, and immediately puts up a show but doesn't go further without a question for such clarification, “Don’t you wanna see me naked?”

You would want to, but not now.

“Just the skirt, please. Everything else, on.” Commanding and straight to the point, just how you wanted all along.

There were no complaints or the fact she’s abstaining from this command of yours, and in fact, it maybe even made it hotter. The way she’s seductively teasing and pulling her zipper until gravity does the job, it’s just a sight to behold and the final product left you in awe: the ruined black silk panties in such alongside the scribbled pattern of her stocking that just made the sight sizzle it complete heat that she emanates (figuratively).

“Like what you see?” She turns around then again, showing you her perfect figure all with your eyes to feast on as you were a step away from your final prize.

“Yes, now please turn around and lay on your stomach like I said.”

Your imperative nature sets herself in a position of reluctance but then shifts onto an immediate opposite. She does what she was told and wiggles her ass leisurely to invite you with a temptation to ruin her and even though if she won’t be vocal about it, you'd make it so that she won't be able to walk until the next day.

Yeji looks back onto her shoulder and lets out such profanity words, “Make a mess out of me—I don’t break easily.”

You won’t be convinced until you try it yourself but looking at her robustness and skills earlier, you might have to be biased with your judgment. “We’ll see about that.”

Completely kicking your garments to god knows where, you’re now in a better state of control as you tease her wet folds, earning a whimper that becomes uncontrollable as soon as you sink your finger against her raging heat.

You can’t wait no more, you absolutely can’t because you’re dying to know what she feels like and with her last bit of defense out of your way, it’s time to do the unthinkable.

Now parting her supple legs with your hands, your eyes feast on her impeccable figure then onto that delicious cunt that’s making you drool. Unable to contain your enjoyment and your fantasies against her, you caught her by surprise with an unexpected twist—probably the twist that you’re involved in would be your tongue lathering her folds and tasting the escaping nectar that she produces.

It was succulent and you dived in it easily as the musky, floral scent of her tight cunt invites you, and you didn’t waste time as this was a golden opportunity. You wanted to tease her just for the sake of stimulation, playing a game with her ramping orgasm building up but you’d reckon the opposite and such pace ensued impatiently.

“Fuck! Such a t-talented mouth—fuck!” Yeji’s whines were coherent enough for you to increase the pace and double your efforts—you wish to let her reach her denied climax earlier with your fingers and your mouth. It wasn’t far off as you can feel her juices forming a rivulet onto her labia and spreading onto your chin and mouth, knowing how incredibly close she can be. She calls you repeatedly, gripping the sheets tight enough to rip it but it can’t and you eat her out with an effort that no one can rival.

A single wail is what it took before she screams, and there goes your long-chased win within a second away—

“I’m going to cum—” Surprisingly short and articulate, you let her give everything she has and there she goes—

Yeji’s orgasm comes in quickly as soon as she mutters those desperate words, and she immediately lays waste as she constantly spews liquid after liquid onto her sheets which instantly gets ruined. The both of you didn’t care about it but rather mind your own business while you still extended her climax, achieving such heights of her vocals.

“God—just fuck m-me now, please…”

Your cock is aching and throbbing in need, and with the penultimate action making her see such stars, it’s time for the last and the main event to take place.

You ask her if she’s in good condition and she didn’t bother to assure you, so with her green light, you stepped onto the throttle and gave in to your deepest, carnal desires.

Standing up, you then give her backside a last look before you plunge your length inside her wet hole and immediately groan with its tightness, feeling like her walls are gripping your shaft with a Herculean effort that probably was the blessing in disguise.

“You’re fucking tight, Yeji—this feels just right.” And it is too right to be true, and you love it.

“Stretch me out—fuck, you’re crazy.”

Lust ignites you and it serves such an everlasting fuel for what’s bound to happen, and you give in just like that. You started off slow, letting her get accustomed to your length as you bury the entirety of your shaft then withdraw with just the tip inside, showing such penetration that could make any girl’s mind go haywire.

It’s starting to get to her slowly in every thrust you do—the utter pleasure your cock brings was phenomenal and with her small whines could determine how she’s really feeling deep inside. She grips onto the bedsheets like her life depends on it and it’s only going to get better once you manage such a pace that will make her think of you and you only.

Her cunt tightens once you spanked that pristine skin of hers and then called out to let her know something, “I’ll own this cunt until you see the stars above, do you understand?”

Between her wails of pleasure is her ephemeral nod with your question, unable to speak up due to the stimulation that’s coursing through her. Every stroke you do causes such slaps that adds to the orchestra of her moans that can be possibly heard outside as her room is too puny to shackle such sinful sounds of sex. You grip her hips harshly and increase your pace, making you moan on how she clenches her velvety walls once your length hits it balls-deep inside her.

“Want me to be rough, Yeji?” You hammer your hips in a velocity that’s making her brain in shambles, unable to mutter a response after a second in which you didn’t like.

A small punishment would do the job, but this is rewarding for her and a statement by yours. “I asked you a question, didn’t I?”

Her breaths are ragged between your thrusts as she cries with your immediate barrage of spanks, causing her to finally answer you even with her mind unable to achieve such clear articulacy. “Yes, p-please—I want it, ow!”

Another spank onto those pristine skin of hers never fails to make you throb with how it jiggled with such harshness, and the marks that’s finally imprinted on the soft skin tells such roughness. As she grows accustomed with your length due to her repeated chants of pleasure, you quickly opted for what could raise such an experience.

If her mind is ultimately clouded with you and can’t think straight, then you’re the opposite, clearly adapting to the situation.

“Yeji…”

“Wha—ooh! Mffh—mmh!” Ragged breaths leave her mouth as she struggles to breath with what you’ve done—you opted for a leverage that asserts your domination over her making the long, black lace at the back of her neck deemed as a leash rather than an aesthetic of her outfit. She probably liked the fact of such risking playing between life and death thanks to the asphyxiation and it didn’t stop you, but rather prove a point.

“You like being choked and used, slut?” Your words just made Yeji elicit more moans as she’s being tamed, controlled by you and god, the way she’s creaming against your rapidly ramming length tells you about her satisfaction. The sheets will probably rip off no matter how durable they are and lastly, it will be soaked with her own juices and that’s thanks to your own doing. Her feet then raise up in the air as you give a better angle of penetration, switching between the black lace and onto her legs for leverage.

Even though she's barely stripped from her clothing, her clothes really compliments her figure and you’d like to take this mental picture and etch it on the deepest parts of your brain—something worth remembering until the end of time. The way that she's a disheveled, ruined mess right now just fuels you to break her in half and you’re not going to stop until you’ve fulfilled such destiny.

You wanted your hands to be occupied onto something and not being idle most of the time and with such a completely ruined mess of a girl she is now, you’d love to add more of it. You then grab her wrists and command her to arch her back, in which she complies and immediately, your hands reach onto those perky breasts of hers with the clothing still in the way. You caress them and Yeji can vouch she could feel such intensity even with such stellar clothing being a nuisance but there’s nothing to worry about, not when you’re giving her absolutely everything to feel.

You didn’t stop there as you leaned your frame closer to her while hammering her tight cunt repeatedly and utter the words, “This cunt is mine now, Yeji.”

She nodded and exclaimed a faint yes as you gave her pecs onto her shoulders, letting her know how much you love every single inch of hers and how you’re marking your own territory. Between your kisses is a feeling that something’s building up and you can feel it with the way her walls pulsate around your shaft—you know she's close and it’s up for you to let her wants prevail.

There wasn’t any choice and you love to see Yeji writhe as you give her such thrusts before her cardinal end.

“I know you’re dying to cum—” You invite her to give in as she moans with your words, urging such a release that could let her see the things you wanted her to have a sight of. “—so cum on this cock. Cum for me.”

Your words act like a lever that opens up her reservoir and it feels like a tsunami surging around your length. With multiple cries to spare, you wanted to make her feel something exquisite while achieving her own orgasm, letting you finger avert her chin facing you, against her shoulder as you kissed her lips intimately. Time felt slow as the both of you locked lips and to ride off her high, you slowed down because you still wanted her to feel such intense gratification through her awaited climax.

“I n-never felt that good in my entire life.” Yeji’s breaths were jagged, as she recovers from her orgasm even with your lengthy still penetrating and possibly destroying her insides. Even with a possibly mind-fucked Yeji, she knew what you wanted all along and didn’t hesitate to ask you about it. “Aren’t you close?”

“Well, if you didn’t cum, I would’ve come first.”

An audible gasp resonated in your ears as it piqued her willingness to help you, and it was evident in her tone. “I could feel it too—just fuck me silly again and just cum.”

She recovered fast because of the evident change of her tone, and you, still a bit puzzled and hesitant knowing she may want a load deep inside her. “Don’t want it inside—”

“Then do it in my mouth—you fucking which hole is now your choice.”

Her invitation is just persuasive and alluring and it never fails you to fall a victim for. Knowing how she wanted it, as much as you wanna bother such another session being between her legs, you’d want to fulfill her wants and it’s safer with the help of a great oral ending.

“On your knees then, and open your mouth. I’m going to fuck your face.” You let her position and prepare herself for what's about to come as surprisingly, her legs are still working fine after all of the havoc you’ve brought into her.

Yeji closes her eyes, her mouth agape, ready for the taking as you stroke your length in its absolute vigor and there she goes, taking you again for the second time. This time, you take control by grabbing her ponytail that’s shockingly intact even with the ruckus you made her be in earlier. She’s taking you like a good girl as you ram into her face with abandon, skin slapping signaling the constant harshness you bring and it is perfect. She gagged and you didn’t care, yet she managed to tame it but wasn’t successful as always—you praised her attempts and wasn’t close to being futile. Her nails dug into the skin of your thighs as she let it be the leverage onto your constant rummage in her throat, and she welcomed every thrust with a gleeful demeanor, locking her gaze towards you.

She cries, tears running down her cheek as she was a disheveled mess and you’re proud of what you’ve done. You could feel the familiar sensation tingling near your stomach and a better way to end such a monumental note is giving everything you can.

The unstoppable force meets the immovable object, as such velocity is unparalleled, hammering her tight throat like it’s her cunt and within seconds from her last gag you could feel everything coming down to this moment. Here it goes: Yeji chokes yet manages to keep your length all the way in, you groaning and calling her name like a chant and of course, the awaited climax that filled her throat up to the brim. You stayed for five more seconds, burying your length as her arms writhe with her repeated gags and then, pulls out immediately, strings of saliva adding to the mess she is and of course, the image of Yeji almost choking out your load but manages to compose herself to swallow it all, humming gleefully as she not get to taste the entirety of your delicious load.

“Like I said—it’s fucking delicious—hah.” The both of you caught your own breaths yet Yeji shows the struggle evidently. Still on her knees, she managed to show what you’ve done as your reward and the last thing you just saw her go is gulp down all of it in one go, into her stomach. She initiated the last dance with her hands grabbing your shaft, then directing it onto her mouth in order to clean the mess she made onto it. You groan with the sensitive surge she brings you, thankfully her tongue doing the work but you don't complain as within seconds, she ends her oral assault and it makes you feel spectacular for a long while.

You cup her cheeks, admiring the glamorous mess you made in which she unhesitantly neaten with her utmost capabilities. “You’re so damn pretty, Yeji.”

“You too.”

It was mutual at this moment and you never knew it would end like this but her voice wants to tell you that something isn’t over, yet.

“Help me clean up?”

And it was a hint, just out of curiosity, you’ll probably pull the trigger because how can you not refuse her invitation?

---

After countless sleepless nights and tumultuous days, you find yourself at the top of the world, and what better way to end this is just to go home, lay down and reminisce what a day this has been.

“The lights are pretty, huh?” Yeji interrupts your moment with her voice, and she locks her eyes towards yours, staring deeply into your soul as you fall onto it yet manage to snap back to reality.

“Yeah, it is—also, I just can’t comprehend how we ended up this way.” Yeji’s on the same boat as you and you could feel it in your nerves. This felt like a fever dream and you loved every second of it.

“Maybe that’s how destiny works, huh?”

You scoff, as your lips curled up a faint smile and muttered, “Maybe it is and yeah, I should leav—”

“Leave?” Yeji pouts as she inches herself closer onto yours, holding your wrist as her tone hints at her disappointment. “Don’t you wanna bother and stay just for this night?”

You can’t resist her, you absolutely can’t as you don’t want to be the bearer of bad news that will make her feel awkward.

You have a choice and you’ll stick with that… in her favor.

You smile sincerely, and Yeji’s holistic demeanor appears, “Okay, how can I resist you?”

“Up for you to find out.”

Maybe she was good, but honestly, she’s great. She is partly a monster and partly an angel, and you’ll live in those worlds together as you find your soulless heart beating rapidly for the first time in a long while.

You’re completely invigorated, and you’ll embrace this new chapter that opened.

“She’s good, she’s good—she’s great.”

---

You continue ruminating about the day you’ve had, and every moment was worth remembering. You smiled in your victorious attempts, which is having her number on your phone and sleeping with her through the night. As Yeji does her hygiene in the bathroom, a buzz on your phone piques your attention, and it was no other than the devil that made yourself look like an angel despite what you descended yourself into.

kim_chaewon on 23:15 - “Guess I shouldn’t have doubted you huh? Well done with the second phase, meet me tomorrow afternoon for further details. Enjoy your night for now—we’re still not done.”

She received it damn well minutes ago and made her eat up her words, but you’re still clearly within the base of the iceberg, and you’re still starting your remarkable journey.

“Hah… Of course we aren’t…” There was no surprise with that as you muttered in response to her text.

Yet there are multiple questions lingering in your mind: How did she know about this? How would she know if you’re lying or not? What may happen tomorrow? How long will this take?

You could never answer those unless you figure things out, and let Chaewon introduce you to more of what’s possible between both worlds: you and everyone else’s, including hers.

#itzy smut #itzy x male reader #yeji smut #yeji x male reader #hwang yeji smut #hwang yeji x male reader

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breadandbees · 3 months ago

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ALRIGHT FIRST DRAFT IS DONE FOR CH. 22 WITH A WHOPPING 21k!!!!! (feat. Aftermath + Much Needed Conversations + The Inherent Humor Of Showing Up Late To Class)

14k words for the third draft of chapter 21 AND 11k words (so far) for the second draft of chapter 22 of hvhdhc LET’S GOOOOOOOOO YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

#i’m always tempted to get RIGHT into revising as soon as i finish a first draft #well these ones are TECHNICALLY second drafts BUT there were Certain Changes For Continuity I Nearly Missed in the first ones #anyways #where was i #oh right #however i know that it doesn’t work for my writing style + how Compelled i am by these characters to Write More Word #like hch4 was Characters talking + me dutifully taking notes despite knowing they don’t know everything #yet knowing the Characters ALSO know they don’t know everything BUT they’ve gone ahead + made guesswork out of it #BUT HVHDHC??#the Characters are dragging me by the hand and saying No #we WILL figure this thing out and get to live the lives we want #see how we got it right this time? watch us do it again!#and i’m just like You Will Get There But Maybe Not Two Chapters In Okay?#like for example!!!!#katsuki as a character is just Trying To Blow Up Whatever Walls He Sees #doesn’t even know Why or For What Reason #just explosively obliterating everything shoto’s been taught about the world #gonna admit that originally i had him Angry + Avoiding All That but THEN he surprised me + figured it out #that there’s an enemy to fight and it ain’t shoto #and now he’s making it everyone’s problem #including me the author #but shoto’s excited for ‘tomorrow’ so can’t complain i guess #ALL THIS TO SAY i’ll be revising ch.’s 23 + 24 + 25 ahead of schedule! yay!#also happy international ace day!!!

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stxrvel · 8 months ago

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disclosure (6)

series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. platonic ot7 x f!reader for now content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! curse words, angst, reader becomes sus, fighting (in the wrong way), angry and mean jin? self-doubt. a/n. hi guysssssss!!! sorry it's taking me this long always, but i finally finished this part! i actually just finished it and it's almost 2am and i have to go to work in fivehours. i'm publishing this part as it is and maybe tomorrow if i have the time i'll look at it again, bc i'm really exhausted right now. and also please forgive me if there are any mistakes in the text;((((. but i hope you guys enjoy this 7k monster of a chapter and i'll see you next time!!

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The fourth book of your saga was a reflection of everything you had gone through when you moved with your family to the capital. You finished the third book when you had barely been in the city for a month and maybe that's why it didn't have a happy ending and why everyone who had read the trilogy had been devastated with that ending. It wasn't something you had planned from the beginning, but it wasn't something that ruined the plot either. It was actually much better than you had planned.

And when you finally finished with the trilogy, starting to write again wasn't hard, especially with so many mixed emotions and so much repressed pain coming back to the surface uninvited.

Maybe you hadn't been in connection with your strong feelings since then, when the city constantly reminded you that you had lost the only people you considered your true friends and the pain of their absence and the harsh reality was a knife burying itself in your chest over and over again. You hadn't felt this much since the moment you realized that they were able to live their lives without you, but you had to go through the mourning of losing them.

You hadn't felt this much since then, until that moment when, having been just a day since you had decided you would take the path of healing, you had to reopen the draft of your fourth book and find all those angry paragraphs, spit out words, piled up letters and whole pages filled with pure rage and pain; of disappointment and realization… of betrayal.

“Are you going to start again already? Don't you think you deserve a break?”

The words Yuna had spoken to you that morning were echoing in your head from the moment you read the first words of this draft and the memories began to well up, emotions making your hair stand on end and your throat close up.

It was almost funny to remember how incredibly angry you were when you first arrived in the city.

The city, with posters of Jungkook's face on every corner, with his performances on some screens or just teenagers talking about him and whispering about his music, it was practically impossible to escape it. The city, with radios blaring Yoongi's songs, in a cab or on public transportation, interviews blaring on TVs in shopping malls. The city, with the international news, which echoed so much, about the spectacular promises of modeling. The country couldn't be prouder to have representatives of that caliber, because the moment Taehyung and Jimin overtook the West and broke the international barrier, it was only a matter of time before the others followed suit and completely changed the idea of entertainment and media in the country.

The first months in the city were nauseating, when you had to get used to and overcome your emotions the hard way, fighting against the aggressive tide that all the time tried to drown you, and that was noticeable in every word and every scene of that book, and you were almost sure that if any of them read it, they would know immediately. If they wanted to know anything about you, if they were really interested, there would be no better way than through your books; in no other situation would you be so vulnerable.

You wondered, for a moment, if any of them would have read any of the books by now. If Namjoon would remember when you asked him for strange words to describe emotions and now they were captured in those impressions, or when you asked Jin and Hoseok for their opinion about the complex construction of your world and each of their peculiar and crazy details can be found in those pages. Just as your books had all the pieces of you, it also had crumbs of them, and you wondered if they would notice if they read it.

Don't you think you deserve a break?

Maybe you do. That's why you had decided to close that cycle once and for all, and there was no better way to do it than to finally start with the edition of this book. Of this fourth book, so strong in its toughness and determination, so vulnerable in its rage and palpable pain.

It was the cleanest and purest and truest version of you.

But as much as you deserved it, it felt more like punishment. Reliving those emotions and evoking those memories caused you more anguish and you didn't know if you could face a kind of shock therapy like that to finally let go.

“The editors said you'd be here.”

You saw Choi Dohyun standing, leaning against the door frame above the computer screen that still displayed the title of the first chapter of your fourth book. On a Wednesday at barely eight o'clock in the morning, the great CEO decided to set aside a few minutes of his busy time to gratify you with his presence.

His calm, serene and carefree expression was the contrast to the swirl of emotions that ran through that room, rising from the crown of your head. You could almost tell he wasn't venturing into the office because he could feel the tension radiating from your position at the desk. He must have even seen it on your face.

You sighed and barely waved at him, running your hands over your face, trying to ease your tense muscles a little.

“Is there a specific reason why you don't want the editors to read the book?”

Choi Dohyun was a mystery. You only knew about him from the three-hour conversation you had the day before, besides the strange looks he cast at Yoongi from his office entrance. He had shown himself to be a very open person and it was clear that he was an expert at making things work his way. You knew he had agreed to many of your conditions because what he would get in return was bigger than what it would cost him, which really wasn't too much, just enough to maintain a level of creative freedom that would allow you to access editorial support when you saw fit —because you knew that once you handed it over, it would no longer be entirely yours—and often businessmen reflected their own personalities in how they negotiated a deal.

Dohyun tried to come across as a fairly personable person; he tried to be understanding, communicative and open-minded, so much so that he reminded you of the comfortable security of an older brother. However, you could tell in that meeting that he held back too much; that he had hated the way Yuna used to interrupt him to ask him questions or how your brother would put too many buts in his mouth and try to get information out of him that he shouldn't give away. You could tell he was impatient, that he really expected the meeting to last less than twenty minutes because he was sure you would sign the contract blindly as soon as you saw the profits you'd gain from the distribution and sale of your books. You also noticed, in case it wasn't obvious already, that he preferred to be in control as long as the situation and the people around him allowed it, for his convenience. If he gave in on several occasions, you knew it had been because he was very, very aware of everything that benefited him.

There were two options: Choi Dohyun wore a mask constantly, or Choi Dohyun was a fraud.

“I just wanted to read it one more time… before handing it over. I won't take long.”

“It's okay. No problem.” Dohyun finally walked into the room, the office he had handed you for whenever you decided to go to his publishing house. You didn't even know writers had that option; you didn't know if it was common, but he allowed it. He had also offered you a writing kit that included a typewriter that looked quite expensive, and although you hadn't accepted it, there it was in one of the corners of the office. Dohyun sat across from you, glancing at the few things you had brought from home to make the place a little more pleasant. “I understand that sometimes it's hard to separate yourself from your work. It's a part of you, after all. A kind of vulnerability that not everyone sees.”

That was the kind of thing that kept Dohyun's true nature a mystery. His stoic expression as he blurted out words of comfort. It almost felt like running sandpaper over cement. Not that you needed to figure him out, because at the end of the day he was a boss of sorts and you two were bound by a contract with mutual economic benefits —technically, you were each there for a benefit of your own— but it was something you wanted to be aware of, watchful of, informed of, because you had no way of knowing this guy wouldn't try to take advantage of some situation later, in any possible scenario.

“Yes…”

“Take as much time as you need. The demand for the trilogy is still pretty high, after all.”

You nodded at him in response, wary of his attempt to lighten the mood. If he was the kind of person you thought he was, he surely knew you didn't feel an ounce of trust towards him.

“In just two days you must have quite a bit of work to do with that,” you tried to continue the conversation, interspersing your gaze over the letters on the screen and his dark eyes.

“But it's a very welcome work. Aren't you glad your books were so well received?”

“Yes,” you answered without hesitation, momentarily remembering the proud look on Yuna and your brother's face when they finally got you to see the reactions and opinions of your books on social media. “It's comforting. For your work to be appreciated, recognized… moreover, that it allows you to make a living from it. It's amazing and a very great privilege.”

Dohyun shook his head in assent, interlacing his fingers over his abdomen. From his nonchalant way of taking a seat across from you, slumped over the chair almost as if he was an old friend from college and not practically your boss, and from how his voice reflected that sense of calmness and confidence, you could almost tell he was perfectly selling the facade of the most trustworthy person in the world.

But ultimately it was your feeling and your need to automatically distrust anyone you met because you didn't know at what point they would try to take advantage of you or turn their back on you, and maybe Dohyun wasn't as bad a person as you wanted to paint him in your head. Maybe you would even accept that his presence was a bit comforting and that he actually reminded you of someone you used to know in the past and of whom currently, if you knew he was still alive, it was by sheer luck. That personality, that sense of security he conveyed and that way he had had of expressing himself to you in that meeting that showed a different and more mature kind of wisdom, indeed reminded you of someone else.

Dohyun was very, very much like Jin.

“Can I… ask you something?” you hesitated, alternating your gaze between the screen and his dark eyes, not quite sure if you wanted to go down that path, but aware that you would get something in return if you did, and perhaps the risk would be worth it. “But it's not related to… this.”

As you pointed to your computer and the rest of the office, you couldn't decipher what expression Dohyun sketched. Trying to read him like you did everyone else, it seemed he entertained a specific train of thought in his head and was sparked by your question, but you couldn't probe much further because he agreed, tilting his head to invite you to ask bluntly.

“How do you know Min Yoongi?”

Dohyun then lifted his chin and his lips curved into a sort of small smile that could more accurately be described as a grimace. With his eyes on the window, with the beautiful view of the city and its busy streets, Dohyun took his time to answer and his pleased and almost satisfied look gave you to understand that your question was not a surprise at all. Dohyun could take it simply as healthy curiosity, for after all Yoongi was a celebrity and there weren't many people around the country who couldn't recognize him and you literally saw him face to face.

However, of course, there was something about his attitude that felt different. He wasn't surprised by your question, it was true, but maybe not for the reason you thought.

“He's a friend of my best friend.” Dohyun finally answered, returning your gaze, a glint of amusement highlighting his dark eyes. “I met him a couple of years ago through him, who is also his best friend. Otherwise, I doubt we would've ever met.”

Ah, Dohyun had a best friend who was best friends with Yoongi. That could only mean one thing.

“Ah. Then your best friend is part of the seven kings.”

Dohyun raised his eyebrows, clearly amused by your choice of words and the permanence of that haunting smile and the glint in his eyes should've been warning enough. He had the posture, demeanor and speech of a person who knew he was in control of the situation. Whatever his purpose was in entertaining this conversation, you already knew you were involved in that reason, indirectly.

Dohyun knew something about you that you had no idea about.

“Yes, indeed. It's Kim Seokjin. We met in college.”

As you guessed, of course. That's where the similar traits you could find in his personality came from.

But then Yoongi wasn't directly friends with Dohyun, and they couldn't be that close because of the nonchalant way he referred to him, so the question of why he was here yesterday, precisely when you came, would remain unanswered. It could be a coincidence? Of course, and you could remain in doubt, or you could…

“Wow. You two really are a powerful duo.”

Dohyun let out a laugh, nodding, looking so comfortable with himself, as if you were asking all the questions you should be asking.

“I love my job and I know I'm good at what I do, but Jin is simply on another level.”

You nodded, getting into his game of pretending, with a half smile on your face.

You knew that if Yuna knew what you were doing she would shake her head and tell you that you were crazy; that you should try to be less hard on other people and that's why you had never been able to hit it off with the other co-workers in Sol's cafeteria.

“Yes. I hear he's a great surgeon. He was top of his class, wasn't he?”

“That's right.” Dohyun nodded, determined not to look away from you. “But you're close to them too, aren't you? I saw Taehyung's Instagram stories when he uploaded your books.”

You blinked. Once. And again. He had already figured you out, and now he wanted to reverse the table and get some kind of reaction or information from you that you didn't know what kind of mystery it would solve in his head. The best option was to feign a bit of surprise, which was what you did, as if you didn't expect him to suddenly bring that up.

“Well, we studied together in school, but we were never that close.”

You lifted a shoulder, trying to downplay the subject, as if on cue, and Dohyun nodded slightly processing the information, averting his gaze over the dark carpet on the floor. He seemed to be tying up loose ends in his head and had more questions, the way he squinted his eyes as you gave him his space to think.

You had no idea what he was getting at. You had already brought out to him that he was close friends with Kim Seokjin and that, basically by extension he knew Yoongi. You could almost say it was a bit of an ordinary, almost trivial topic, not overly suspicious. Unless, of course, he knew something else that raised his curiosity and made you look suspicious in his eyes for asking such questions.

It seemed the most certain theory.

“And through him you must have met the others sometime, right?”

And it seemed you were right, too.

You had to deny his assertion, you knew, but it seemed you had taken half a second too long because he beat you to the word, shaking his head in a nod, and then said:

“That explains a lot.”

“Huh?”

Play dumb, play dumb.

Dohyun cracked a big grin, looking almost like a predator in the midst of its hunt, and from that alone you knew he'd already put his puzzle together.

“Well… actually, now that we're being honest, Jin was the one who recommended me to read your books.”

Wow.

Okay.

Jin… told Dohyun about you? About your books?

That doesn't explain anything. In fact, more questions popped up in your head than you could control and you were sure Dohyun could see the question marks moving over your irises.

“He told me that there could be a great opportunity if I published you and he was really right. I don't regret sending you that offer.”

Dohyun leaned back against the backrest and stretched one of his arms over the chair next to him. His posture was a little more relaxed than before and you couldn't help the feeling of anger that ran through you because you had given him just what he wanted, but you couldn't concentrate too much on that because you were too surprised by what he had just blurted out, as if it was nothig.

Of all the things you could've imagined, you would never have considered that this huge and prestigious publishing house had offered you a contract just because one of the CEO's great friends had recommended it to him. I mean, if Jin had never talked about it, would you have had any chance of getting this offer? Of signing this contract? Would you have been recognized on your own merit and not because you were linked to the mouth of a close friend?

None of that made any sense. Why had Jin told Choi Dohyun about you? His best friend being the owner of the most prestigious publishing house in the country, clearly knowing the implications of his actions, why would he do that? Maybe he didn't count on his friend throwing him overboard someday for gossiping and because he has an ego bigger than his own head? Maybe he thought it would be an anonymous job forever? And for what reason? On what grounds? What kind of emotions moved him to make that decision? Maybe it was simply an altruistic desire. Maybe he was moved by the same thing that moved Taehyung, the one who started all this. But was it something premeditated or not? Was it something he had previously discussed with Namjoon? Would the others know about it? Would they have agreed? Would they not have cared?

In the midst of that mental stupor, the very idea of healing seemed stupid to you. The immense confusion and anger that was coursing through your blood had no place for this group of fools to continue to meddle in your life as if they were playing a fucking election game on their computer. Why? Why? Why?

You wanted to get out of a simple doubt with Dohyun, to know what kind of connection he had with Yoongi and that everything that had happened was a coincidence, and you had ended up with a thousand more questions, with a hundred confusions and even more mixed emotions.

And Yoongi… would he have been in his office yesterday for something related to that?

“At first I thought Taehyung had asked him, but Jin is quite careful about such things. He wouldn't hint something like that to me even because his brothers ask him to, unless it was someone he could vouch for. So you knew Jin too, right?”

You didn't try to deny it, but you didn't give him the reason either. Amidst a sea of questions and confusion, incredulous and angry, you just shook your head and crossed your arms.

“I'll bring the first draft tomorrow.”

Dohyun took his time, drumming his fingers on the wood of the chair, sending you a look as if he wanted to get more answers out of you because your attitude raised more doubts than he initially had. Maybe you let go of a wolf's leash or this would be a one-time occurrence, you had no idea. But he said nothing more. Finally he got up, said goodbye and left.

Don't you think you deserve a break?

You should've listened to Yuna.

The next day, when you finished editing the draft of your fourth book amid tears, several cups of coffee and an excruciating pain in your wrist, you finally handed it in to the editors with a heavy heart and an hour of sleep in your body. It had officially ceased to be yours. The revelation that Dohyun had actually offered you all of this because Jin had asked him to do so kept going round and round in your head and made you revise and edit that draft more harshly than you would've done before.

Maybe you added a few extra curse words.

“If you don't finish that pasta, I'm going to steal it from you.”

Yuna hadn't even finished her own plate and was already eyeing yours, her brow furrowed and her own fork stabbing the ceramic of the deep dish you'd served your friend in as she crossed the threshold of the front door. You had been stirring the food with your fork for a while, thinking, reflecting, theorizing, trying to figure out what you really wanted; trying to recognize and accept the emotions inside you that were upsetting you.

Your parents had left early and Seojun was back in his college dorms, so you invited Yuna to lunch because you knew she loved the pastries your mom made and because you thought it would do you good to have some company after turning in the draft of your book. But, really, you were more overwhelmed than before. Yuna's presence didn't stop the thoughts in your head from racing, nor did it erase from reality what had happened.

“Y/n?”

You raised your head.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, and tried to focus on eating lunch before rambling on.

“Is it because of the book?”

“No, no. Everything's fine. I was just thinking.”

“Do you think you should've waited a little longer to turn it in?”

You shook your head. “No.”

It wasn't an order from Dohyun or anything like that. You decided to get started on editing the next book because it was a bit desperate to have nothing to do. Before you could focus on the whole operational and logistical process of delivering the books, but now that was taken care of by a separate company and all you had to do was verify that the money was coming into your account and that was it. Not that it was bad, but you were not used to just sitting idly by. So you thought that continuing with the pre-publication editing of the next books might be a good way to pass the time.

You didn't expect, of course, the statement you heard the day before, let alone that it would knock down your motivation like the wind to dry leaves. After that conversation with Dohyun, you decided that the best thing you could do was to turn in that draft and give them as much work as possible as a distraction so that you wouldn't have to go back to that building for at least a couple of weeks. It wasn't a healthy activity, of course, because at the time you were only functioning to keep Yuna from questioning if there was something wrong with you. Well, she probably did, but she preferred not to comment on it, because you hadn't been giving her too many answers to her questions lately.

Having decided that Dohyun was an expert manipulator, you could only worry about the possibility that he might decide to comment something about that conversation to Jin or just stir up a conversation about the possible existence of a friendly bond with him during school time. You didn't know what could trigger that; with everything that had happened up to that point you could no longer be sure of anything or trust anything.

“No. I thought I'd turn it in now so I'd have more time to read the next books. I know that one isn't too bad. I revised it too many times while I was writing it and even after.”

“And it's pretty long, isn't it?”

You nodded, finally tasting another mouthful of pasta. “Seven hundred pages.”

“Holy Christ,” Yuna put a hand to her forehead and sketched a worried expression. Then her excited exclamation echoed throughout the house. “What a thrill! I can't wait to read it!!!!!!”

Yuna returned to work an hour later and you spent the rest of the afternoon between shifts of lying down staring at the ceiling and watching more videos about your books on social media, which you hadn't been able to leave since you saw them with your whole family in the living room. It still seemed surreal to you that you could search the name of your books on the internet and you would indeed get the results you expected. Clearly not all the opinions were praise, but you were willing to take all of that and learn, implement and consider it for the next stories you were willing to tell. For now, you were going to focus on keeping the editors busy enough that they wouldn't have to ask about it or demand your presence for any reason. This trilogy really was quite a lengthy saga, so when they finallt finish editing the fourth book, you'd have the fifth waiting, and so on. At least until you had another amazing idea for a new story.

Now, on the slightly more disturbing topics, you still had more loose ends to tie up than you had initially thought. As you still had those particles of anger running through your body and you were still convinced that there was still no room for healing and overcoming, you could only think about what Yoongi's presence in Dohyun's office was about and if it had to do with what Jin had done.

That was the first line of thought. The second one sounded more like Yuna with her serious voice trying to talk some sense into you and tell you that you were seeing into it too much, that surely it was all just a coincidence and that Yoongi's presence was just some kind of crossfire.

But… yet… how many more times did something like this have to happen before you stopped chalking it up to coincidence? How many more times would you say it was a coincidence until everything started to connect to a purpose? Did they even have a purpose? Did they have a reason for all this, for all this unnecessary drama? And was their reason worth it to compensate for the instability you were going through? Having pent up emotions, confusion, lots of doubts and zero answers was about to drive you crazy.

However, maybe seeing things from another approach would allow you to understand.

Because, honestly, you saw it as too complicated to be able to leave them behind in this way, when it seemed that, on purpose or not, you would keep finding them in your soup. Adopting a slightly more objective approach, even though your emotions were always running high when it came to them, could give you the resolution you were looking for and the answer to the questions you were asking yourself. And there would be nothing more than that, because it would be impossible to restore the friendship you once had. Perhaps the truth would be painful, but you would accept it as it was and move on. Now, as old as you were, it would not be as hard as it was ten years ago when in the midst of confusion and desolation you could only cry.

Now, you had already gone through the mourning and made peace with the distance, the absence and the betrayal.

Maybe, if you tried a little harder, you could bring real closure —and soon, hopefully— by finding the answers on your own.

Kim Namjoon used to believe that he was good at dealing with any kind of problem. In his head, which he was spinning around like a huge sphere and he was a hamster, Namjoon was sure that he could fix any situation and solve any misunderstanding, any fight or at least come to an agreement that would make everyone feel comfortable enough to move forward.

In his head, Namjoon was a three thousand dollars conflict-solver. Seeking solutions from reason and objectivity was basically how he kept his company afloat, that company he had inherited from his parents and had turned into the economic juggernaut it was today. All that success was summed up in the capacity for resolution that Namjoon had in his super head and, of course, his strategic capacity that allowed him to read his opponents and know exactly what they wanted, how they wanted it and when they wanted it.

However…

The whole table was still silent.

And Namjoon could only look at the faces of each of his friends, his best friends, practically his brothers, while they shied away from his gaze or directly ignored him, while he clasped his hands on the edge of the chair and tried to keep his composure because he no longer knew what to do.

Kim Namjoon, the three-thousandth troubleshooter, had a factory defect and could not fix the one thing he had always been able to fix with ease.

When Hoseok had walked into his office two nights ago with that stern and serious expression, Namjoon knew that there would be more problems to solve. But if he had to be honest, even before that moment he knew it wasn't working out well. Maybe it was because of the delicacy of the subject or the crudeness of his friends to address it, but Namjoon was losing the important ingredient of patience and that was something that hadn't happened to him before.

But then again, how could they all be so insensitive?

“Doesn't anyone have anything to say?”

Hoseok had been the only one to be spared from this discussion, though his presence was required at the table and tension radiated from his body in equal amounts. The others were directly attacked by the three thousandth (broken) problem-solver and despite Namjoon giving them a space to try to explain the situation, the table was still silent and with each passing second the pressure cooker containing Namjoon's anger was beeping louder and louder.

“I don't think there's much to say.”

It was Jin who finally broke the silence and Namjoon let out some air.

“Ah, thank you, Jin. Why do you think so?”

With his arms crossed, the older sent him an incredulous look.

“We've had this conversation three times already, Namjoon. Why do you think it's necessary for us to keep repeating ourselves?”

Hoseok had told Namjoon that he was concerned about the coexistence in the pent-house and that perhaps the elephant in the room was not being addressed in the right way; that more and more misunderstandings were being created between everyone and that it was making for an untrustworthy environment for the youngers. Namjoon agreed halfway through; if he had to be honest, none of it would've gotten to that point if none of them had been so irresponsible and daring to do all that they had done. And Jin had the least right to dismiss the issue as he had.

“Because you all don't seem to have listened to me at all, especially you.”

Jin snorted and turned his head away. Jungkook beside him barely winced at the hostile exchange.

“And what did I do?”

“What did you do? Jin, how can you be so inconsiderate?”

“I only rushed an exchange that was eventually going to happen, what the fuck is wrong with that?”

Namjoon tried not to look so surprised by the fact that the conversation he had had with him two nights ago and Yoongi had basically gone in one ear and out the other. Namjoon had no idea if it was an occupational hazard or a personality trait, but Jin was having a kind of stubbornness that bordered too much on his pride and desire to be right.

And right now it wasn't about who was right or wrong. It was about the fact that they had all made a promise and now they were breaking it as if it was worthless. Worse, as if the only ones affected by it were them and not a third party.

“Didn't you stop to think how she would feel if she found out that was how things went down?”

Jin rolled his eyes, but didn't answer him.

“Why do you all do all these things without believing that they will have consequences beyond your own feelings? That's all I'm asking you to consider!”

Taehyung and Jungkook at least had the decency to actually look embarrassed, avoiding Namjoon's gaze. Jimin was still convinced that he had done nothing extremely wrong and Yoongi simply demonstrated his sorrow through indifference. Namjoon knew that Yoongi was just as frustrated as he was with the way things were going, because they were the only ones trying to fix the messes the others had been thoughtlessly causing. And Jin… well, it was obvious that he didn't see any big implications beyond having to be scolded by Namjoon.

“Guys…” Hoseok started, sitting to Namjoon's right with a tired and defeated expression. If Namjoon and Yoongi were looking out for the integrity of the third party concerned, Hoseok was the one who was most concerned about the bonds that were breaking between them and that was why he had gone to Namjoon to have a group meeting again and set the boundaries once and for all. “You guys know that Namjoon is not just talking for the sake of talking. Jin, you don't need to get defensive. I understand that you tried to make the connection in good faith, but you have to understand that it was a very high risk. And while Dohyun is your friend, you know he's not very trustworthy.”

Jin grunted then, despite the kind tone Hoseok used to address him, and the others at the table only sent him a surprised look.

“Sure, now it's all my own damn fault. Not only do I have to deal with the stress of work, now I have to come to my supposed time off to deal with this too?”

“Hyung,” Yoongi called after him and frowned at the rude tone the older had used. “No one is saying it's your fault. We all have a part in this.”

“I don't care, Yoongi. Whatever's going on right now you know who's really to blame. And there's nothing you can do about it anymore.”

“Jin,” Namjoon called back and the aforementioned turned to look at him with daggers in his eyes. “You made the promise too.”

“Yes, one I never agreed to and you know it.”

Hoseok sighed and ran his hands over his face. “This is not the time to apportion blame, okay? I only wanted this space because I want us to fix this lack of communication and all this hostility that is affecting our living together.”

Namjoon turned to look at the table, finding the younger ones sealed in silence. None of them raised their heads and they showed signs of nervousness and anxiety, even if they tried to hide it under the tablecloth on the table.

There were too many things Namjoon wanted to control; there were too many things he wanted to solve; there were a number of other things that drove him mad and others that made him feel hopeless. Understanding all these emotions, his own or others', was wearing him down and perhaps that was why he was increasingly losing an ounce of patience. However, no matter how hard it was for him, Namjoon had to be sure that his priority was right in front of him. He had chosen to do so a couple of years ago and he could no longer turn back time.

“Hey, I'm sorry, okay?” Namjoon started once again and although Hoseok tried to shush him to calm down, he continued, “I know how I've acted during these days since everything started and I have not been very open to dialogue. For me it was… it was like crossing a forbidden boundary and I couldn't understand how you guys could jump over it without a second thought. It made my hair stand on end and I didn't… I didn't… I didn't know how to contain those emotions, I didn't know how to control them and clearly I didn't know how to express them. And the truth is that it worries me. I understand that you don't, because otherwise you wouldn't have done any of that, but I would like you to try to do that because this is not a unilateral action that will only affect you and will only be in your memories. You are affecting her too, and very much so. We were not good, not even friendly or cordial, so I need you to understand that all these things she will not see them as you think. Jungkook, you experienced it first hand. She hates us.”

Jungkook jerked on the chair and Taehyung was the one who reached over the table to take his intertwined hands. Jin sighed, finally letting the anger dissipate and Yoongi mimicked him, a little calmer as he watched his elder relax. Hoseok shook his head in assent, noticing the tension at the table dissipate a bit and how the young men held each other.

“And rightly so, because we made an inexcusable decision. And not only that, but she will now believe that it was a simple Tuesday for us and it's not. We made the promise for a reason and anything related we were supposed to consult first as a group. Sure, life happens and we get busy with a lot of things and have too much on our minds, but this was all inexcusable and we owe her more than forgiveness. We probably owe her our lives.”

“Hyung, I'm sorry…”

Jungkook was the most regretful. Since that harsh encounter, for which he dared to risk his presence in public and for which he believed it would be worth a try, Jungkook had never regretted something so much since the day of the promise. He still remembered the hatred your voice exuded and shivers ran down his spine. He had been unconscious, that was true, and he didn't know what he had let consume his body to have made that decision or to have simply acted without thinking. The possibility of seeing you again simply…blinded him. But that was never an excuse.

And Namjoon knew that. It was Jungkook who acted worse than everyone else, but he also couldn't deny to himself that had he found himself in the same predicament, with the same opportunity, he wouldn't have done the same. Maybe that's why he was so demanding of others, because that's how he reminded himself that he had no right to even think about it, much less act on their emotions, when they had taken away your choice as if they had any say in it.

“We can't erase what has already happened and what you have already done. All I ask is that you don't make it worse.” Namjoon implored, closing his eyes in silent prayer. “At this point there is no way to fix anything, and if every day we do things like this we are only inflicting pain on someone who doesn't deserve it. So please, for the love of God, leave her alone.”

The whole table was still silent, but this time Namjoon could clearly see everyone's face and notice their emotions right away, as he had always been able to do. He still didn't understand what had moved them to do all that; to Taehyung, to Jungkook, to Jin, to Jimin, despite everything they had discussed before, and he didn't understand how he hadn't been able to foresee their intentions from the beginning. But he could no longer focus on what had happened, but on what was happening and what he could still fix.

For that which had already been broken for years, Namjoon doubted too much that any of it could ever be fixed, no matter how hard he tried. And boy, would he have wanted to try.

“I'm sorry,” Jin mumbled, and it almost seemed like he had ripped the words from the back of his throat, but Namjoon took it with all his being and considered it the first victory on this new path.

When he finally dispatched everyone, Jimin remained seated to his left.

“Is there anything else you want to talk about?”

The blond looked disgruntled, and though it was clear that the tension was gone from his shoulders, in his gaze was that longing that Namjoon hadn't seen in years and certainly didn't allow in himself for all that he had previously exposed.

“Do you really think it's impossible to fix it?”

Namjoon hated knowing that the gleam in Jimin's eye had no future. At least not the one he wanted to believe. Namjoon, like everyone else, had spent sleepless nights thinking, remembering, reflecting and considering that they were never brave enough nor necessarily tough enough to earn that friendship once again. It had all gone to waste and it had been because of them.

“Yeah, I don't think that's possible.”

Jimin passed his saliva harshly, as if his mouth was dry, but he had to control and keep his emotions in check. Namjoon knew his every emotion and mainly knew how sensitive this whole issue was for Jimin, who from the beginning never agreed with him on anything and never hesitated to let him know. In fact, it took a couple of years before Namjoon could finally have this close relationship with Jimin again, until the blond decided to forgive him.

“It's silly to hope at this point, right?”

Namjoon also knew that Jimin struggled a lot to stop pointing blames, as Jin still did. He knew that, had Jimin had the opportunity in his hands several years in the past, he would have taken it and perhaps left them behind if he could. It was an extremely complex and long process to get the blond to trust Namjoon and those on his side again, which was one of the reasons why Hoseok was so insistent on talking and communicating and keeping everyone on good terms. It had cost them so much to re-form their trust that he couldn't allow it to crack once again.

Jimin nodded at his words when they were met with silence, for there was nothing Namjoon could say to comfort him. It was simply a heartbreaking situation.

“Tae and I will be with Jungkook.” Jimin assured Namjoon as he stood up. “Thank you… for trying.”

Namjoon only nodded, pressing his lips together in an attempt at a smile. Things would not automatically go back to the way they were before, as Namjoon's sternness in dealing with this issue on previous occasions was what initially caused this whole fiasco of miscommunication and hostility. He was heartily grateful that likewise Jimin took him into consideration, because he didn't know if he would be able to sleep knowing that everyone in that pent-house hated him. He didn't know if being the reason for the constant discord would allow him to have a respite of peace of mind at some point, when he was simply trying to do what he thought was best for everyone and what suited them on a sentimental level.

Kim Namjoon used to believe that he was good at dealing with any kind of problem. In his head, over which he circled as if it was a huge sphere and he was a hamster, Namjoon was sure that he could fix any situation and provide a solution to any misunderstanding, any fight or at least come to an agreement that would allow everyone to feel comfortable enough to move forward.

However, at that moment, the past tense wording was the most accurate.

Namjoon used to believe.

Jimin stopped halfway up the stairs, transfixed, and Namjoon watched him curiously. Then, the blond half-turned on his heels and Namjoon got front row view of Jimin's pale face and his exaggeratedly expanded eyes as he looked at his phone.

“Hyung…”

Namjoon came striding over, intrigued as well as concerned by the expression on the blond's face.

Jimin had his Instagram open, specifically his direct messages. There was the message there that had made Jimin stop dead in his tracks and all blood dropped to his feet, but Namjoon didn't understand what the reason for his surprise was until he saw the sender, and then his eyebrows disappeared into his hair.

y/n Let's meet

omg🙊🙊

tag: @rinkud@futuristicenemychaos@pastelpeachess@parapiop7@11thenightwemet11 @yoongznme @queenbloody @lynnettys-world @darlingz99 @dreamerwasfound @chaotickyrith @kokoandkookie @midiplier @thunderg @lizzymizzy-blogg @ladymorrie @butnotmontana @lovelgirl22 @jjeonjjk7 @aurorathi @ot7stansthigs @kunacat @borahaetelevision @mylovingstars @ghostlyworld @talyaaas-blog @slowlyshycomputer @jjk174 @maynina @kariningss @juju-227592 @zippaur @v4ksk4tz @kookierry @idk179634 @canarystwin @jincapableoflove @notrustfratedjin @elliott-calls @devilzliaison @ismelllikechlorine247 @19yearoldjstryingtolivelife @thatgirliehan @yuuuumii @welcometomyworld13 @sugarbaby69x @whoa-jo @cerulean1riz @kawennote09 @angelfuzzy2 @themoonsblueside @damn-u-min-yoongi @drenix004 @dhanyasri @borahaetelevision

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bangtanbeom · 27 days ago

Text

⋆˚࿔ perfect match 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ 4

୨♡୧ part one / part two / part three / part four / part five ୨♡୧

pairing: rentalbf!soobin x fem!reader genre: fluff, comedy? (debatable), fake dating au summary: desperate to escape your friends matchmaking, a small lie spirals out of control. soobin—your charming, professional, rental boyfriend—the perfect answer. but what if the hardest part won't be fooling your friends? what if it’s reminding your own heart it's all fake? w/c: ~3.3k warning: not entirely proofread, fluff (might be cringe), an attempt at humor. a/n: LMAO I JUST NOW REALIZED I PUBLISHED THE WRONG DRAFT. i accidentally published a story draft about yeonjun i was working on but i wanted to post this one HAHAH OOPS. i blame the allnighter. taglist: always open! @saccharinezennie | @soobinz-wife | @mental-hollows | @bunniwords | @lonendly | @soobinieswife | @slipawaylrh | @taysfairies

the moment you shuffled into the office, coffee clutched like a lifeline, yeonjun's chair screeched across the floor as he launched himself toward you.

"well?" he planted both hands on your desk, eyes gleaming. "details. now."

you took an obnoxiously long sip of coffee, stalling. "good morning to you too."

yeonjun's grin turned wider—dangerous even. "you didn't text me back last night. which means one of two things." he held up a finger. "one. you were so overwhelmed by fake boyfriend's charm that you collapsed into a puddle of regret and unprofessional yearning." a second finger. "two. you actually had fun and didn't want to admit it.

you choked on your coffee. "or three. i was tired and forgot."

"liar." he swiped your muffin from the desk, taking a big bite. "spill. how was the double date."

you slumped into your chair, rubbing your temples. "it was... fine. beomgyu is a menace. his girlfriend is terrifying. soobin—"

yeonjun's eyebrows shot up, his lips stretching into a teasing grin. "what'd he do? hold your hand? feed you food?"

"oh my god." you buried your face in your hands. "it was practice. we acted like a couple. that's literally the whole point."

yeonjun's smirk softened, just a fraction. "and?"

you hesitated. the truth was, last night hadn't been awful. once you stopped flinching every time soobin touched you, it had almost felt... natural. the way his hand settled on your waist, the stupid little pet names—it was all part of the act.

and then there was tomorrow.

the get-together. your ex. the thought of sitting across from him again, watching his sharp eyes dissect every interaction between you and soobin, made your stomach twist.

you hadn't told anyone the worst of it—how your ex would smile sweetly in public, then snap behind closed doors. how his voice would turn to ice if you dared to disagree with him, or how he'd punch and throw anything he could find whenever something didn't go as he'd wanted to.

and when he cheated—he'd made it sound like your fault.

"you're so distant, what did you expect?"

"hey." yeonjun flicked your forehead. "you're overthinking."

you batted his hand away. "i'm preparing. the dinner is tomorrow, and if i mess up, my ex gets the satisfaction of watching me fail. again."

yeonjun's teasing demeanor faded. "you're not failing. you're rebounding—just you know, with a paid professional."

"ugh," you groaned. "that's not better."

"it's strategic."

he stole another bite of your muffin. "look. you hired soobin because he's good at this. trust him. and for the love of god, stop imagining worst-case scenarios."

you picked at the edge of your desk. "what if my ex sees right through it?"

"then soobin will lie harder. that's his job."

"what if i freeze up?"

"then soobin will thaw you out. probably with something more—a kiss, maybe."

you shot him a glare.

yeonjun sighed, uncharacteristically serious. "listen. you're not the same person you were when your ex left. and tomorrow? you're going to walk in there with a guy who looks at you like you hung the damn moon—fake or not—and your ex is gonna choke on his jealousy." he leaned in, lowering his voice. "and when he tries that manipulative bullshit, soobin won't let it slide. that's the difference."

soobin's car idled at the curb, its sleek black exterior gleaming under the amber glow of the streetlights. the low hum of the engine blended with the murmur of pedestrians. he leaned against the hood one foot propped on the bumper, scrolling through his phone with his free hand tucked into the pocket of his—

oh.

light-wash jeans, just like yours. he'd paired them with a crisp white button-down, sleeves rolled to his elbows. casual, but put-together.

you tugged at your own jeans, suddenly hyper-aware of the matching denim, the bracelet on your wrist, the necklace you'd fiddled with all day.

his head snapped up the second your shoes hit the pavement, his gaze tracking you as you approached. you watched his eyes flicker—over the bracelet, the matching jeans, the way your fingers kept straying to the necklace around your neck—and something unreadable passed over his face.

"wow," he said, pushing himself off the car with a grin. "we do look disgustingly coordinated."

you crossed your arms. "i didn't realize you'd be dressed like this."

"like what?" he gestured down at himself, feigning innocence. "devastatingly handsome?"

"like we planned it." you narrowed your eyes. "did you hack my closet?"

he laughed, shaking his head. "nah. just good instincts." his gaze flicked to your nervous fingers fiddling with your necklace. "you okay?"

"great." you exhaled sharply. "just mentally preparing to face my ex with his new girlfriend while pretending the love of my life—" you gestured at him. "—isn't a paid professional."

soobin's expression softened. he stepped closer, his voice dropping. "hey. look at me."

you did. his eyes were steady, warm.

"i've got you," he said, simple and sure. "no matter what happens in there, i'm not letting him get to you."

something in your chest tightened.

it's just a part of the act, you reminded yourself. but the way he said it—like it was more than that—made you second-guess everything.

you swallowed hard, breaking the eye-contact. "you better be worth the money."

he smirked. "oh i am." he said as he opened the car door for you.

the car smelled different.

the faint scent of coffee that used to linger in the air—from the last time—was now replaced by a faint scent of mint and something sweet, vanilla, his cologne, maybe. the half-empty pack of gum replaced by a new full pack, neatly placed in his car.

somehow, it felt different, not as personal as the last time, like he'd scrubbed away every trace of himself—facade.

everything was a facade.

the realization slithered down your spine. of course he'd erased the traces of practice soobin. tonight wasn't practice. tonight was performance soobin—polished, professional, paid.

the dashboard lights cast a soft blue glow over the console, illuminating the sleek lines of the gearshift and the subtle curve of soobin's knuckles as he tapped the steering wheel. outside, the city blurred past—neon signs, flickering traffic lights, the occasional flash of headlights cutting through the setting evening.

the silence in the car stretched, thick with unspoken tension. you fiddled with the edge of your sleeve, the fabric rough under your fingertips, grounding you in the moment.

soobin's voice cut through the quiet, softer than you expected. "nervous?"

you exhaled sharply, fingers stilling. "is it that obvious?"

soobin's gaze lingered on your fingers, still fidgeting with your bracelet. without a word, he reached over and gently pried your hand away, turning it palm-up in his. his thumb tracing slow circles over the palm of your hand. "you've adjusted your bracelet seven times since we got in the car."

your breath hitched. the warmth of his touch was too real, too steady—but you didn't pull away.

was this also part of the act?

heat creeping up your neck. "obsessive much?"

"professional habit." he smirked, but there was something gentler beneath it. "look, we've practiced. you're good at this."

"at lying?"

"at surviving." his fingers tightened slightly on the wheel. "and for the record? you're not the one who should be nervous tonight?"

you frowned. "what's that supposed to mean?"

soobin's grin widened. "it means your ex is about to watch you move on. and i don't care how 'over it' he claims to be—that always stings."

the certainty in his voice made your breath catch. you studied his profile—the way his lashes cast faint shadows under his eyes, the stubborn set of his mouth. he sounded like he spoke from experience.

the restaurant approached, its glowing sign casting long shadows across the pavement. your stomach lurched.

soobin parked, then turned to you, "last chance to bail. we could fake a car crash. food poisoning. sudden amnesia."

you chuckled softly. "tempting."

"but?"

you shot him a glare. "letting you keep the deposit? never." you said and straightened your posture. "let's go."

soobin's grin was sharp. approving. he stepped out of the car, rounding to your side to open the door for you. as you stood, his hand settled at your lower back—a silent promise.

i'm here.

the warm, garlic air of the restaurant wrapped around you like a familiar blanket as you stepped through the entryway, the laminated menu boards clattering slightly against the wall from the kitchen's bustle. the scent of caramelizing bulgogi and spiced stews mingled with the sharp tang of soju being poured at nearby tables.

your fingers twitched at your side until soobin's palm settled against your lower back—his touch firm through the thin fabric of your blouse, the heat of it seeping into your skin.

then you saw him.

seated at the far table like he belonged there, his arm slung casually over the back of his new girlfriend's chair. the same way he used to sit with you, before his words turned sharp with frustration, his smiles became weapons. he hadn't noticed you yet, too busy tipping his head back to laugh at something jia said, the curve of his throat exposed in the golden light.

an ache bloomed behind your ribs. not longing—just the old, familiar sting of betrayal, the ghost of his voice slithered through your memory.

"it was a mistake, but you pushed me away first."

your nails bit into your palms. why was he still here? why did no one else see how he carved you open and called it love?

soobin leaned down, his breath grazing your ear. "breathe," he murmured, his voice low enough that only you could hear. his fingers softly touching your chin, lifting your face toward his. "eyes on me, not him."

he lowered his hand and rested his hand on your lower back, but the tingling sensation still lingered on your chin where his fingers touched.

you sucked in a breath—just as mina spotted you.

her iced americano sloshed dangerously as she slammed both hands on the wooden tabletop, the metal legs screeching against the floor. "oh my god!" the entire restaurant seemed to pause at her outburst before resuming their meals with amused smiles. "you're finally here."

jia merely smiled, but the way her fingers tightened around her water glass gave away her excitement.

and your ex—his gaze snapped to you, that infuriating smirk already plastered on his face, but when his eyes flicked to soobin, something flickered in his expression. a twitch in his jaw.

soobin's hand slid from your back to your waist, pulling you closer. his voice was warm velvet. "hi, i'm soobin. her boyfriend."

"well," your ex drawled, leaning back in his chair. "aren't you full of surprises?"

the table fell silent. mina's eyes darted between you and soobin like she was watching a tennis match. jia sipped her water, but you didn't miss the way her foot tapped impatiently under the table.

the word boyfriend landed like a grenade.

jia's eyebrows shot up. your ex's girlfriend offered a sweet smile.

mina squealed. "you—he—you!" she pointed wildly between you and soobin. "you didn't tell us he was this hot!"

you groaned, cheeks burning. "mina, please—"

"no, no, she's right," jia said, lips twitching. "you undersold him."

soobin smirked, leaning in just slightly—close enough that his breath brushed your ear. "should i be offended?" he murmured.

"don't let it get to your head." the elbow you aimed at his ribs only made him laugh, the sound rich and warm like honey.

your ex's smirked, but his knuckles whitened around his chopsticks. "interesting. how long has this been going on?"

"two months," you said smoothly, reaching for soobin's free hand. his fingers laced through yours, warm and safe. liar, his grip seemed to say. but i've got you.

your ex's gaze dropped to your joined hands. "funny. you never mentioned him before."

soobin pulled out your chair for you—smooth, practiced—before sliding into the seat beside you. his knee brushed yours under the table, warm and grounding.

"funny," you countered, "how you never mentioned her until after i caught you."

the tension at the table stretched. mina's eyes widened while jia choked on her water.

then your ex laughed, sharp and shallow. "still holding onto that? move on, babe."

the old pet name slithered under your skin. babe. the same word he'd hissed through his teeth the night he threw a glass against the wall because you'd dared to question him.

but before you could flinch. soobin's hand covered yours, his thumb pressing into your pulse point—a silent counter to the rhythm of your racing heart. "she has," he said, smiling like he knew a secret. "she has me now."

"so..." mina leaned forward, trying to break the tension. "details. now. how did you two meet?" she asked, her eyes gleaming.

you opened your mouth, but soobin beat you to it.

"we fought over a book," he said grinning.

"a book?" mina shrieked. "that's so cute."

"she elbowed me out of the way," soobin added, nudging your shoulder.

"i did not!" you protested, but he just smirked.

"you absolutely did."

mina clutched her cheeks. "this is the best love story i've ever heard."

jia tilted her head. "what's your job, are you a model?"

soobin laughed, the sound warm and gentle. "i'm a graphic designer," soobin answered easily, his fingers lacing with yours on the table. a show of affection, a calculated move. but his thumb brushed your knuckles—soft, reassuring.

"and you've been keeping him a secret?" mina gasped. "unforgivable."

you laughed, nerves easing steadily. "we wanted to take it slow."

"slow?" mina scoffed. "look at him. i would've married him on sight."

soobin laughed—warm, rich, the kind of laugh that made people turn their heads. "i like your friends," he murmured to you, his shoulders bumping yours, it felt alarmingly easy—maybe a little too easy.

you rolled your eyes yet the chuckle that escaped from your lips betrayed you.

"soobin," your ex said, putting down his beer after taking a sip. "how'd you win her over? she's... particular."

soobin didn't miss a beat. he turned to you, his expression softening in a way that made your stomach flip. "she elbowed me for a book. how could i resist?"

mina sighed dreamily. your ex's smile tightened.

and you—you almost forgot it was all an act.

until your ex's girlfriend leaned forward. "you're so cute together! can i see a couple photo?"

shit.

you stiffened. you and soobin had rehearsed touches, backstories, pet names—but not this.

but soobin just chuckled, pulling out his phone. "of course." he tilted the screen toward you and there it was—a selfie from your 'date' at the bookstore, his cheek pressed to yours while your eyes were closed, your noses scrunched in laughter.

when had he taken that?

"adorable," the girls cooed.

soobin grinned, slipping his phone back into his pocket. "i got lucky."

the table buzzed with laughter, the clatter of chopsticks against the plates, the warm hum of conversation. you were halfway through your bulgogi when your ex leaned forward, his smirk sharp enough to cut glass.

"so, soobin," he said, swirling his soju glass lazily. "you must have the patience of a saint. she's not exactly the easiest to date."

the words slithered under your skin, familiar and venomous. your fingers tightened around your chopsticks, knuckles whitening—

then, warmth.

soobin's hand settled on your knee under the table, his palm broad and steady, his thumb tracing a slow, soothing circle against the inside of your thigh. not possessive, not performative—just there. a silent i see you, lean on me.

you exhaled, your shoulders loosening by degrees.

when you dared to glance at him, soobin wasn't even looking at you. he was smiling at your ex, easy and unbothered, as if his hand wasn't burning a brand into your skin.

"i disagree," soobin said, his voice light. "i've only ever found her... effortless."

his fingers squeezed once—gentle, grounding—before retreating, but the heat of his touch lingered long after, a phantom weight that left your pulse fluttering like a trapped bird.

you were halfway through your meal when soobin leaned over, his chopsticks hovering near your plate.

"can i try that?" he asked, nodding toward your food.

you nodded, but before you could push the plate toward him, he plucked a strand of noodles directly from your bowl.

"hey—" you started, but he was already lifting it toward your lips instead of his own.

"open up," he teased, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

rolling your eyes, you obliged—but the moment your lips closed around the bite, his fingers lingered. the pad of his thumb brushed your lower lip, just a second too long, too long it seemed almost intentional.

your breath hitched.

soobin's gaze flickered down to your mouth, then back up—slow, deliberate. a silent question hung between you, one you weren't sure how to answer.

neither of you pulled away.

mina gasped. "oh my god,"

the spell broke.

soobin leaned back, smirking, but his fingers flexed slightly—like he was resisting the urge to reach for you again.

the restaurant hummed with laughter and clinking glasses. the interrogation from mina and jia, catching up with some other friends, the occasional back-handed comments from your ex while his girlfriend was staring at soobin.

you needed air.

excusing yourself, you slipped away to the bathroom, the chatter fading behind you. the fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as you splashed cold water onto your face, staring at your reflection.

a sigh escaping from your lips, your eyes tracing every detail in your reflection.

just a little longer.

then you stepped into the hallway—

the hallway air turned to syrup as your ex cornered you, his familiar cologne suddenly suffocating.

"two months?" his laugh was like a knife dragged along your ribs. "you expect me to believe you just happened to move on that fast?" he jerked his chin toward the dining room where the others sat.

your fingers found the cold tile wall behind you. "some of us don't need years to recognize something real."

his smile died. that's when the door swung open.

soobin filled the doorway like a storm rolling in, his dress shirt sleeves shoved up to his elbows, revealing the tense cord of his forearms. he didn't speak. didn't need to. the way he looked at your ex—like he was measuring the distance to break his nose—made your breath catch.

"problem?" soobin's voice was dangerously quiet.

your ex stepped back, hands raised in mock surrender. "just catching up with an old friend." the word dripped venom.

one moment soobin was in the doorway. the next, his palm cradled your cheek, his other arm bracing against the wall behind you, caging you in—not trapping, but sheltering. his body radiated heat, his breath brushed your lips.

his eyes searched yours—was it concern? possession? pity?

your heart slammed against your ribs. your world narrowed to the space between you, to the smooth pads of his fingers at your jaw, the warmth of his breath on your skin, the fragile tremble in his hand.

his gaze flicked to your lips. you didn't think. you couldn't.

you reached up and answered by fisting your hands in his shirt.

the kiss ruined you.

it wasn't careful. it wasn't clean—not like his usual professional behavior. his lips met yours in a crush—urgent, clumsy, real.

his hand slid into your hair, tilting your head just enough to deepen it, and then his other arm wrapped around your waist, hauling you closer like he couldn't stand even an inch between you. his chest pressed against yours, and you felt it—felt him—his heart hammering just as wildly.

your mind spun, trying to make sense of it. this wasn't in the script. this wasn't a scene you'd rehearsed.

was the kiss even necessary?—why did you give in?

and god, the way his teeth caught your bottom lip like he'd been thinking about it, dreaming about it—

you were drowning in it.

a part of you kept screaming stop, this is too much, this isn't pretend anymore, but your body refused to listen. his hands on your back trembled. his mouth gentled for a fraction of a second, like he was pulling back—

then the hallway door creaked open.

"oh my god."

mina's shriek stabbed through the haze. you tore away like you'd both been caught stealing something sacred.

soobin didn't step back—he just rested his forehead against yours his chest heaving. you stared at each other, too close, too exposed, his thumb brushed your cheek, a whisper of a touch.

behind him, your ex stood frozen, the blood drained from his face, dragging his feet across the floor, walking behind mina, both of them exiting the hallway.

your fingers trembled where they still clutched soobin's waistband. the daze in his eyes—like he'd just realized something—sent your heart into a freefall.

the silence was deafening.

"sorry," soobin murmured. "that, wasn't part of the plan."

you swallowed hard. "no. it wasn't"

his thumb brushed your cheekbone again, slow questioning. "did i—" he hesitated. "was that okay?"

your pulse stuttered.

was it okay?

୨♡୧ part one / part two / part three / part four / part five ୨♡୧

#next one will probably be the last part #soobin #choi soobin #soobin au #soobin fic #soobin imagines #soobin x reader #soobin txt #txt #tomorrow x together #txt au #soobin x female reader #soobin x you #txt fic #tubatu

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deepmochi · 1 year ago

Text

SYNASTRY: Venus in the houses (7th-12th) part 2

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Note: Honestly, I had a draft for the 2nd part, but probably I deleted by mistake, or tumblr did it (idk). Maybe, That's why I thought I already posted the 2nd part, but I was wrong.

Part 1 🩷

♡ Venus in the 7th house ♡

These couple usually views commitment as all or nothing, are you in or not? They have strong values about true love, and they will follow them. Love is viewed as a contract by their souls or hearts. If they break any aspect proposed, they know it's the end. They can be reflections of themselves either the good or the bad. When the contract is done, it's over. The Venusian sees the house person as a very stable being. They feel safe and prepared for them. These two may live together before the year of knowing each other romantically. The pair just feel ready when it's about commitment. The house natives perceive the Venusian as very "wife/husband" material for them. With this overlay, their personalities blend well and work together. It feels natural for both of you to be close and intimate together. For others is moving too fast, and for them is easy to become intimate with each other. The seventh house person fits well for the planet native. These two feel like it's a soulmate connection, very easy. You’re both drawn to please each other. It's a very strong connection for long-term relationships. It takes time for them to move on if they ever break up. If Venus has bad aspects, it can be a toxic relationship. The reason for this, it's that they prefer to stay together instead of being alone or start something new. Intimate gesture like hugs and someone hand guiding the other. Cooking dates and going out at night the most. "Here, I bought this?";morning texts: " how are you today? My day...." "Can I call you, I miss your voice"; " My mom ask if we can go to her party?" ; "we should go to that restaurant"; Formal clothes; "hey, look me, they don't know how worthy you are". They like to spend time with people they love. Balance. If Venus cooks today, the house will do it tomorrow. Wearing nice clothes and a good perfume to impress the other. Compliments and physical touches, especially kisses in the cheek. Cheesy things like love letters. Having "the song" or the place.

♡ Venus in the 8th house ♡

These two have a different kind of love. The Venusian feels like the house person bring something in them that they can explain. Sometimes, these people have taboos to share. Death has impact their lives. The house person may become obssess with the planet person. Sex isn't a way emerger together. Usually, they possess the same interest in taboo topics. In the beginning, Venus feels attracted to the house, but it's also scared of them. Their sexual energy is intense. The 8th house person wants to know the Venusian's secrets and fears. Both are possessive, but the house win the round. They detest when their partner don't respect them. Their relationship status will remain a secret for the public eye (in the beginning). They would share many things even traumas (if hardly aspected). The house native will protect the Planet from the world. Sex can be very intimate or aggressive (bsdm stuff). These people will not be the same they were when they met. For them, love is intense and transformational. The house feels that the Venus native is trustworthy, but they need to see their actions. Holding hands during intimate times. During sex they will talk and have intense stares. "I don't like that person, be aware of them", "Here, use this for yourself"; "if you need money, just let me know"; "don't lie to me, I know you are sad"; his/her hand on your thing while eyes are on the road; taking notes of your gestures. They have weird hobbies together and enjoy dark humor too. Moonlight sex and long sessions.

♡ Venus in the 9th house♡

These individuals perceive love as a new adventure and try to go with the flow. If they're mature, they prefer to maintain a very healthy relationship. Both prefer to travel and know about new places and cultures. Love is not as other say. They may prefer to do things their way. Venusian isn't instantly involve, but they see the house as interesting. For the house native, the planet is nice an attractive, but they will not force things. The house native could be older than the Venusian. The house person likes the planet manners and life vision the most. They see the commitment as an experience. Sometimes, marriage isn't obligatory requirement. They may enjoy walks, museum, and play board games. One could be from another country or have a different culture. Their relationship presents a new chapter in their lives and their families. Besides, they like to engage in intellectual debates, maybe they are into philosophy. If they broke up, they will try to be professional or move on. They can meet later in life after maturing. It's likely that you will work together or in the same environment. Having a child or more is possible, so use protection. "Look at here, we can travel here"; "aww, baby, you were right they declare that"; ["I really want to buy that book" / "baby, you have that book already"]; Saving for vacations; buying each other souvenirs or antique objects as gifts; reading books and doing small debates about it; *knowing each other during trips, universities, conferences, cultural events, and religious activities" Buying new book editions. They love to try new foods or learn about new places together. They could meet while traveling or in college.

♡ Venus in the 10th house♡

Coworkers to lover vibes. They are comfy with being mature. Similarly to the previous combo, the house partner is the older one or has more experience. This partner also has more dominant energy. They could meet in different levels. The negative aspect is that they could be very nitpicking and too logical when it comes to love. The planet individual sees the house person as straightforward and mature. Partnership is very important; it's like a contract. If one of the part broke a part of the deal, it's done. They can work together or met during college (last year), conference or work related things. They are straightforward and mature when approaching the other. If badly aspect it, they have an issue with power imbalance (not good at all). Big egos over emotions, this is the start of arguments. They plan their dates. The planet person accepts that the house individual cares for their image and professional life. The Venusian isn't afraid of being a home stayed wife. Here the Venusian knows and appreciates the house efforts to balance their stability. Nonetheless, the house person must value the venusian support. Doing plans after they leave the work; caring for the other in profesional settings; making food or leaving notes in the stuff *you can do it* in their computer. Making each other feel valuable "Here, i make you favorite food"; let's celebrate your new position"; *making time to luch together*; naming the other whenever they can "I'm grateful for my wife meals and support"; giving gifts and showing their s/o in public. Even thought people think they aren't super romantic, they will try to match things. It could be rings, watches or wearing the same brand. Looking good.

♡ Venus in the 11th house♡

Love depicts a friend to lover storyline where both care for dreams and humanity. It's very possible that they met when they were helping other people. The Venusian fits the house's ideal type. They seem more friendlier than other couples. You wouldn't think they were dating at first. They prefer to joke around, but they love each other. The Venusian share the dreams the house native have for life. It's also likely that they like each other in the future, even if they met since birth. They prefer to have experience with love before settling down. Its common to see them as "I thought they were only friends". The Venusian sees the house person as humanitarian, reliable and interesting. Stay protected because big family can be a thing. Moreover, the must clarify about what is a family. The house perceives the planet native as beautiful and too much to some people. Together, they will form a very unique pair and family. Regardless Venusian feel the planet as hopeful person. The eleventh house person sees a future with the venusian because they feel understood. Love for the house is independent, and the venusian can see this as as a relief. Making fun of the other in a non hurtful way. "I can't deal with you right now *kiss them*"; "Alexa plays titanic's song" *grabs the venusian and starts dancing*; *hugs their s/o when they're cooking*; being romantic when they're alone; sending spicy texts "come home, I'm ready"; talking about the future; matching devices or wallpapers; a lot of trust, they share passwords. Having the same or similar friends. They like to help other people. Donating for other people as a hobby or helping to people who need. Dates in the nature. Cleaning beaches, rivers or places.

♡ Venus in the 12th house♡

Love is simple but blurry. They can't get confused in how they love. The house sees the Venusian see them as the real deal. The planet perceive the house native as too good for them. There are some blurry aspects that they don't understand. When this synastry happens, it can feel too blurry for outsiders. Sometimes, they feel as friends and others as partners. At times, they hide their feelings without realizing or because they don't want to hurt the other. The house may hide their crush for the planet (too well). The Venus feel like the house person hides things for them. The house native don't want to bother the venusian. The house wants to give all they have to the venusian without having a concrete reason (maybe they are friends, but they are their #1 friend). This connection feel very special even divinely guided. The house is very observant with the Venusian Different backgrounds, it's possible that the house person has faith or not. One (usually the venusian) is more intuitive. Venus comes to open the house's eyes to other knowledge. The house will do all they can, so the venusian is happy. They can be soulmates (even non platonic). On the negative side, they don't have good communication because they avoid confronting each other. Both have experience paranormal activity, but only one believes more. The Venus person will try to invite the house to their home (pure opening of their soul). The Venusian can be quite delulu, but the house see it as funny or special. They met when something is ending for the Venusian. Romantic times, home dates, asking the other about things or traumas carefully, a special vibe around them. *Big smiles and shiny eyes*, "I buy you this; you tell me two months ago around 9pm" "aww thank you", "are you sleeping well?" - "yes" , *astrology or tarot talks* "can you give your birth time?" - "12:34 am" " it was bad?" "No, we match". Talk about paranormal activities like any other topic, special dates, random celebrations, secret spots, discreet dates, spirtual conection, they may understand the other, but can't explain it.

Take what resonates only. 💚

#venus #venus synastry #astrology #venus in the 7th house #astrologynotes #zodiac #astrology community #venus in the 12th house #venus in the 8th house #venus in the 11th house #Venus in the 9th house #venus in the 10th house #astrologia #aries #scorpio #libra #deepmochi #pisces

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imagines4thefandoms · 10 months ago

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In Love with the Tats

(This has been in my drafts for a long time)

Warning: Lots of smut

summary: Henry comes home still wearing fake tattoos from his latest movie.

Henry Cavill is a kind and loving man. He is the real-life Superman. And he’s British so he’s automatically very polite and nice to everyone. He looks like an actual bear with all those muscles but he’s really just a giant teddy bear who requires cuddles to function. He usually plays good guys in the movies cause it's who he is.

Which is why the world lost its mind when Mission Impossible: Fallout came out. Henry “king of nerds” Cavill was a bad guy. Seeing him betray, hurt, and kill was out of pocket and extremely hot. And you were not expecting it. When you started dating you told him not to give you any spoilers from his movies. You wanted to get the whole experience when you saw it at the premiere. Sometimes it backfired like in Dawn of Justice when Superman died, and you were caught off guard but he brought you tissues cause he knew you needed them. And when you got married that promise was in your vows. Maybe cause you told him you would divorce him if he spoiled anything for you.

So when you watched your husband who can’t hurt a fly try and destroy the world and kill millions, you got turned on. Seeing a darker side of him was very attractive. And every girl can tell you how villains are a lot more attractive than heroes. So when you got home from the premiere you jumped his bones. And for the next 24 hours, you two rarely left the bed for longer than 5 minutes. The phrase fucking like rabbits could have legally changed to fucking like Cavill’s.

After that when he would look over scripts his agent sent him, you would help him and pick out the role you liked (spoiler if he played the bad guy you liked it). He auditioned for the roles you liked cause he could never say no to you and you would never steer him wrong. And he got the role. You did your civic duty to the world and Henry Cavill was going to be a bad guy again on the silver screen.

And now while he’s filming you spend all day with your favorite Cavill, Kal. You had gotten a text from your husband saying filming was running late and he wouldn’t be home in time for dinner which didn’t bother you at all. You made a simple pasta dinner and left it on the table cause you didn’t want to eat without him. Usually, when he runs late he gets home around 10 or 11 instead of 6 and you had a big lunch with friends so you didn’t mind waiting. While you waited for him to come home you and Kal sat on the couch watching The Office (American edition). It was the episode with Asian Jim so you were dying laughing over Dwight's reaction. Suddenly the front door opened and you felt a kiss on the top of your head, cause you were too busy to look over at who walked in the house. Though you knew it was Henry.

“I could have been a robber,” he lightly scorned seeing as the front door was unlocked.

“Well then the robber could finish the episode with me and then take our things,” you teased still not looking at him.

“You are a pain, love,” he said taking off his jacket and locking the front door.

Kal, your nice warm cuddle buddy, jumped off the couch and ran to Henry excited that he was home. You turned to scorn your husband for causing your furnace to leave when you took in his appearance.

“What is that,” you asked him noticing how he was covered in tattoos. Like COVERED. His neck, both arms and his knuckles had ink.

“I didn’t want to keep the makeup artist there any longer and I told them to leave them til tomorrow,” he explained rubbing behind Kal’s ear.

When he was met with silence he looked over at you and noticed you were staring. He immediately thought you were turned off.

“I’ll try to get us to wrap earlier tomorrow so they have time to take it off,” he says grabbing Kal’s leash to take him on a walk.

“You don’t have to,” you said staring at the tattoo on his neck and biting your lip.

It suddenly clicked in his mind that you were very much turned on. He smirked at your reaction and bent over to whisper in your ear.

“I'm going to walk Kal and when I get back I'll show you the rest of them.”

“There’s more,” you gasped finally bringing yourself to look him in the eye.

He simply replied with a nod and walked back out of the house to walk the dog. Henry might have been gone for only 10 minutes but seeing how you were suddenly very hot and bothered it felt like hours. You were too antsy to move from your spot on the couch and could not for the life of you pay attention to the antics of Jim and Dwight. When Henry finally came back, he sent Kal to lie down in his bed in the living room and threw you over his shoulders to bring you to the bedroom.

“You are not helping my situation,” you cried out as he threw you on the bed.

“I'm not in a helping mood,” he replied taking off his shirt.

His chest was covered in tattoos and scars. There was no bare centimeter of skin. You got on your knees and slowly ran your hand over the art. When you reached his navel he turned around and showed you the back. There was a cross with a rose intertwined with it and blood dripping from the stem. You turned him back around and placed one hand over the skill on his chest and your other hand covered the flames on his neck and brought him down to you for a very firm kiss. His hands went to your waist and he laid you down hovering over you. As soon as you got your legs out from under you they went around his waist to bring him closer to you. The kiss got very heated and sloppy. His lips left yours and traveled to your neck. Your hands alternated between gripping his hair and scratching his back.

He pulled himself from you and removed the shirt you were wearing leaving your chest bare. He kissed your nose then your lips then your neck and kept traveling til he was right above your shorts. You whined as he slowly took off your shorts and peppered your hips with kisses. When he finally took your shorts off he kissed the inside of your ankle and slowly went up til his nose brushed against your very wet cunt.

“Hen, please,” you cried as he just kept kissing your inner thigh and letting his mouth hover so close but so far from when you needed him.

“Where do you need me,” he asked bringing his face back up to yours and staring into your eyes. “Here,” he asked placing a kiss on your neck. You shook your head no. “here,” he asked kissing between your breasts.

“No,” you cried wiggling beneath him.

His hands gripped your hips causing your movements to cease and his lips brushed over your right nipple. “Here?” You again shook your head no. and he did the same to your left nipple. He asked the same question and got the same answer. He continued to kiss down your body, your stomach, hips, knee, and ankle but still wouldn’t touch you where you needed him.

“If you don’t hurry up or I’m going to do it myself,” you cried out.

“No, you’re not. You are mine, your kisses are mine. Your tears are mine. Your whimpers, moans, and pleas are mine. And for damn sure your orgasms are mine. No one, no toy, not even these beautiful fingers can bring you the pleasure I can,” he said kissing the tip of all ten of your fingers. “They can’t fill you or stretch you the way I can. You will forever be unsatisfied, empty, and cold without my fingers, mouth, and cock to fill you and keep you warm.”

His mouth finally hovered over where you needed him. He could see and smell how turned on you were but still hesitated to do anything about it. “Say it. Say no one can fuck you like I can. Tell me you are mine,” he said staring at you.

You wiggled and cried and gasped at the feeling of his hot breath on your cunt. You tried to close your leg to get a little morsel of relief but his hands gripped your thighs and forced them open.

“Say it,” he said again this time deliberately blowing directly on your clit.

“Fuck. I’m yours only yours. No one can ever fuck me as good as you do,” you cried trying to close your legs again but not moving them an inch. “Please Hen I can’t take it.”

“Good girl. I’ve got you just relax,” he said before attaching his mouth to your aching cunt and eating you out like a starved man.

His tongue traveled from your clit to your vagina and back again. He started sucking on your clit but his eyes never left your face. He watched as your eyes closed and face contorted with pleasure. Your hands gripped his hair and you were either trying to pull him away or pushing him in more you didn’t know but a groan left his throat causing you to fall over the edge and cum in his mouth.

He lapped up the juices and sat back and just admired the mess between your legs. He used his fingers to spread you open so he could get a closer look. He spits in your very exposed cunt and then goes back to eating you like you were a whole meal at a 5-star restaurant. You cried and screamed his name when his teeth gently grazed over your clit. Before you could even come down from your first orgasm the second one hit like a ton of bricks. Your hips lifted off the bed and you screamed his name but he still wasn’t done. When your legs stopped shaking he finally removed his mouth and bruised your lips with a kiss. You let out a moan when you tasted yourself on his lips.

You opened your eyes and noticed his were filled with a lustful/predatory look. He gently pressed kisses on your nose and lips causing you to laugh. His hand traveled from your neck to your left breast then down til his fingers stopped between your legs.

“I'm not done with you princess, that was just my mouth. We still have my fingers,” he said pressing two into you without warning causing you to gasp. “And my cock,” he said placing a small kiss on your neck.

“Fuck Hen,” you cried turning your head away from him.

“On no princess, I said those are mine. You are going to look in my eyes as you come undone on just my fingers,” he said turning your head towards him.

You couldn’t say a word so you just nodded as your response. He thrust his finger in and out of you so slowly that it was almost painful. “Faster please,” you whined running your hands through his hair and bringing his lips against you.

“Too impatient, you that much of a whore you can’t wait to drench my finger,” he asked picking up his speed.

“Oh yes,” you said both at the new pace and his words.

“Yes, what,” he asked pulling his fingers out of you and bringing them to his lips. “Fuck you taste exquisite.”

You whined at the now empty feeling seeing as you were so close to cumming again. “Yes, I'm your whore please.”

Satisfied with your answer he plunged his fingers into your agains and was fucking you with such a brutal pace that tears fell from your eyes. “That’s my good girl. You're doing so well for me. You're taking my fingers so well, should we add another,” he asked rubbing your clit with his fingers.

“Yes, Daddy please.”

He inserted another finger and stretched you out. Henry stroked your face when he saw you wince in pain.

“It's okay baby, Your pussy was made for me. I can feel you gripping my fingers. Do you wanna cum,” he asked kissing your ear.

“Please,” you whined.

“Let go, Daddy’s got you,” he whispered. “Be my good girl and cum for me.”

The knot in your stomach broke and a wave of ecstasy filled every atom of your body. His finger still fucked you through through your intense orgasm. When you came down he once again removed his fingers. He brought them to your lips and gave them a little tap.

“Clean my fingers, taste how sweet you taste,” he said looking at you.

You sucked your cum off his fingers like there was no tomorrow while your eyes never left his. Once you were done he removed his fingers from your mouth and got off the bed to remove his jeans. Out of instinct, you got on your knees in front of him. He unbuckled his pants and pulled both his jeans and boxers down. You were about to take him in your mouth when you noticed more tattoos on his hips and all over his legs.

Your fingers traced the dragon that covered his entire right leg. From his ankle to his hip. On his left thigh was a wolf’s head with trees around it like it was a forest. Henry let out a growl seeing as were were quite literally leaving him hanging.

“It's not fun is it,” you retorted letting him think your were punished him for leaving you high and dry earlier.

“Either you take my cock in your mouth now or I shove it down your throat and fuck you so hard you can’t speak,” he threatened gripping your throat and forcing you to look up.

You pressed your legs at the thought of him fucking your mouth with such force. He noticed you squirm and he laughed. “You want that, don’t you. You want to wake up tomorrow with a sore throat and remember how I used you for the slut you are.”

You nodded your head and his hands gripped your head and he just stared into your eyes. “Then open up,” he said before he shoved his dick down your throat causing you to gag. Once the shock was over you tried to suck the soul out of him.

“Fuck,” he moaned as your nails dug into his thighs.

He kept fucking your mouth and made sure that every inch was in. He brought your face to the base of his cock then pulled out completely to give you a breath. His thump traced your lips and pushed the drool from your chin back into your mouth. “My beautiful wife.” Your mouth fell open waiting for him to shove his cock back down your throat. Henry let out a laugh before giving you what you wanted. The pace he was going was brutal but beautiful at the same time.

You watched as his face scrunched in pleasure at the feeling of your mouth. The sound of his balls slapping your chin filled your ears making your legs squeeze together. Henry’s hands cradled your face as he forced his cock as far down your throat as he could reach and he just held you there. When your tongue ran over the vein on the underside of him he quickly pulled himself out.

“If I’m going to cum anywhere,” he said pulling you to him, “it’s going to be in this pussy.”

Henry’s hand stroked you clit one more time before he gently pushed you down on the bed. You tried to scoot up to the pillows but, Henry grabbed your ankles and dragged you back down til your ass was almost off the bed. He brushed your hair out of your face and places a kiss on your nose before plunging deep into your aching cunt.

“Fuck,” you yelled dragging your nails down his back.

Henry pounded into you at an alarming pace causing you to slowly move up the bed. “I'm gonna,” you yelled before his lips attacked yours. The orgasm ripped through your body. Your legs were shaking uncontrollably and your bones felt like mush. But Henry didn’t stop. His pace was speeding up like he was chasing his own pleasure.

“I can’t,” you cried moving your head side to side.

“Yes, you can baby. Just one more,” he said kissing your shoulder. “I'm almost there, you’re doing such a good job.”

Your head is still shaking from the overstimulation. His hands went from your waist to your painfully throbbing clit. “Please,” you cried when he roughly pinched it. He ignored your cries and just focused on your clit. You tried moving away but his other hand moved to your throat. “I know baby. But I know you have one more. Please I need you,” he pleaded as his strokes slowed down. You slowly nodded your head and he forcefully kissed you again. He removed his hand from your throat and went back to your thigh. Henry gave you a little squeeze before moving your legs over his shoulders.

At this angle, you could swear you felt more of him. He slammed into you over and over again. “Cum with me baby,” he said bending you practically if half so he could kiss you. His movements stopped and his head fell to your shoulder as he came. “Fuck,” he yelled once he emptied his entire load. He stayed in you for a minute to catch his breath.

“I love you,” he said whipping the sweat off your brow.

You winced when he slowly removed himself. “I love you too,” you said when he walked into the bathroom to get a washcloth. When he ran the warm cloth over your abused cunt you flenched in pain. “Fuck, did I hurt you,” he asked kissing your knee. You shook your head and pulled him up to you. “Just very sore. Can you just hold me,” you asked.

He rolled off you and laid on his back with his arm extended waiting for you to move at your own pace. While your head rested on his chest, he rubbed small circles on your lower back.

“So you want me to keep these tomorrow too,” he asked mumbling into your hair. You let out a laugh and slapped his stomach. “God no, I can’t survive another night like this tomorrow,” you said moving to look up at him. “But definitely next week,” you said with a smile.

#henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader

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rueclfer · 10 months ago

Text

crave to do it again // touya todoroki

when just for a second, it all felt so simple

a/n: geettt this shit out of my drafts!!! is this the fucking angst yall wanted!!!

@bbluefllame 😔

At 12:00AM, it was unusual for the city to go quiet. Aside from the buzzing lamp post, crickets chirping, and the occasional chatter from the nightcrawlers down the street, you wondered where everyone had gone. Maybe they knew what was to come.

The cool night breeze was circulating through your apartment along with soft ambient music emanating from your record player. You were fists deep in various articles of clothing, crumple up notes, loose photos, and more all haphazardly thrown in dingy cardboard boxes.

"Touya, look." You call his attention away from the wad of paper in his lap. "You have to wear this tomorrow." You held up the "If lost, return to Y/N" shirt you had gotten him as a gag gift for his birthday last year.

"Asshole." He chuckles. "If any part of that shirt survives, they'll come for your ass next."

"Heavy on the if." You mutter, sadly smiling to yourself, letting your hands fall back into your lap.

You tightly clutched the black fabric, looking closely at the worn cracked lettering before bringing it up to your nose, deeping breathing in his faint lingering scent of citrus and cedar mixed with laundry detergent.

You two were sat criss-crossed on your bed with a box sitting in between you two. You occasionally glanced up at him to see his furrowed brows focus on whatever item he had in his hands, silver hair damp from the shower, and him sporting an old band tee you two passed back and forth as a pajama shirt. You wished you could take a picture of this moment.

Everything almost seemed normal. Almost. You tried not to let the dread brewing in your stomach overwhelm you, but your hands had been clammy all day, you couldn't keep any food down, and you were sure you were less than 12 hours away from a breakdown.

"Gross. Don't know why I kept this." He flips a photograph over to you, revealing a creased family photo of the Todorokis burnt around the edges, but every single face still legible. "Throw it away for me, yeah?"

"Absolutely fucking not." You snatch the photo from his fingers, peering closer to see him in his childish glory- missing teeth, tousled hair, and a wide grin that had diminished with age.

It was rare for you to see a photo of Touya before he joined the league. You never told him, but the night he revealed his full name to you, you scoured the internet for any photos from his previous life, but only ever finding the haunting school photo from news articles announcing the death of pro-hero Endeavor's eldest child.

"I'm not throwing any of these things away." You held the photo close to your chest, tears suddenly welling up in your eyes the moment they met with his own.

His eyes widen for a split second, before faltering into a soft, regretful gaze.

"There it is." He sighs.

Touya shoved the box in between you two off of the bed, reaching over to take you in his arms.

"You know, I was waiting for the waterworks all fucking day, I was almost sure you were looking forward to me dying."

"Shut up, I'm fine." You say, tilting your head back, letting the tears settle back in your eyes.

"You don't have to be fine, sweetheart." He mutters, bringing your head into his chest, holding you tight. "We can talk about it, you know."

"It's just.." You begin, pulling back with tears streaming down your cheeks now "..look at how perfect this is, Touya." You plea. "Look at us." You gesture to the mess of your bedroom with his belongings and boxes scattered around.

In another timeline, it would have been an image of you two moving in together. It's your first night. You're figuring out how to split the closet with him. Maybe you can have breakfast for dinner for the fun of it. You'll try to sleep early, but you two are giggling to yourselves until early in the morning. You two would sleep in until mid-afternoon, and spend the rest of the day in bed. He'd stay.

"I know. I'm sorry." He whispers, reaching up and swiping away your tears with his thumbs.

You knew that despite the end coming near, it was all still perfect- meeting him, knowing him, falling in love, spending his last moments with him. Last moments. The dread was creeping up your throat. How can you make time stop?

Touya knew deep in his heart that if there was anything that could have saved him, it would have been you. If he had just been a bit less rotten, if he had been born in a different hour, in a different body, he would have married you, given you a quiet life, and anything else you wanted. He wouldn't have this festering darkness inside of him threatening to overcome with every passing second. He wouldn't have been born with a single purpose. His life could have been yours for the taking.

"Promise you don't hate me for this?" He hangs his head to rest on your shoulder.

"I could never hate you." You rake a hand through his hair, letting the other rest on the nape of his neck. "I'll think about you for the rest of my life. I'll celebrate your birthday every year. I'll talk to you every night before I go to sleep. I'll tell everyone about my partner and how big his heart was and how he made the stars shine for me. I'll love you forever."

"In another universe, I would have given you everything." He murmurs.

You two silently settled in bed, tightly wrapped in each other's arms as you laid your head on his chest, and taking in his heartbeat by memory, being sure to lock the gentle sound in your head.

"What do you think you'll do after?" He breaks the silence, hand running up and down your back.

"Maybe find God or something?" You sigh. "I dunno."

"Don't make me fucking laugh." He chuckles, almost making your eyes water again from hearing and feeling the deep vibrations through his chest. "God does not want to find you, that's for damn sure."

"Well ask him for me, when you see him, yeah?"

"So sorry to break this to you, babe, but I don't think I'll be meeting God tomorrow." You could hear a hint of sadness in his voice.

"I guess I'll see you in hell then." You look up at him, meeting his eyes in the moonlight leaking in from the open window. "Put in a good word for me."

"That's more like it." He presses a tender kiss to your forehead.

You two silently ask yourselves the same question. Will he be fine after tomorrow? Will you be fine after tomorrow? Will that little boy in the burnt photo be at peace? Will you be able to go on?

"Any last secrets?" You ask, half joking. "Or any burning piece of information you've been keeping from me? Now would be a great time to unpack."

He takes a moment to think.

"When you go through the rest of my clothes, in one of my pant pockets, I still have the wrapper of the condom we used from the first time we fucked."

You slap your palm down on his chest.

"Dumbass." You laugh. "Why the fuck would you still have that?"

"What can I say, I'm a sentimental guy. Put it in a scrapbook or some shit." He shrugs, smiling at the thought.

"Yeah. I will." You half laugh, half choke out, silent tears now staining his shirt. "I have a secret too."

"Go for it."

"What if I told you I already killed your dad so there's no need for you to go out tomorrow?"

He shifts his body to face you now, slinging an arm over your waist and pulling your body flush to him. The air was filled with you silently sobbing behind your hands. You told yourself you'd be brave for him, but the bitterness in your heart had been leaking. It was circulating in your blood, and you couldn't pretend like it wasn't killing you from the inside anymore.

"I'd say, cool." He presses his cheek against your forehead. "And then we'll stay like this all day. Or maybe we'll take the first plane ride out of Japan. Wherever you'd wanna go, I'll follow you."

"Yeah. I'd like that." You say in between sniffles. "I think it'd be nice to leave Japan. Just for a bit."

You wondered if this was acceptance or denial. You could laugh and cry about it now that you're in Touya's arms while you two were waiting for the sun to come up, but for a long time, you saw the headlights in the distance, and the humming slowly growing louder in anticipation as tomorrow crept closer and closer.

In this moment, you accepted that you would grieve for him much longer than you were able to love him. You denied that he would be leaving you in a few short hours. You accepted that this was a necessary evil that had to be taken care of. You denied that this was the only way.

In another universe, you won't have to miss him. In another universe, he doesn't have to die for this. In every single one, you love him for as long as you'll remember him. In every single one, he'll survive through you.

You eventually hear his breathing slow down into deep inhale and exhales through his mouth. This was your last act of love for each other while you two walked this Earth together- a quiet night in each other's arms.

You memorized the patterns of his scars, the way they brushed against your skin. The color of his eyes you would see in the ocean. His silver hair still clumped in your hairbrush sitting on your bathroom counter. His love dazed expression is captured on a photo strip hidden in your wallet. Maybe he'll live forever, after all.

He'll wonder how long it'll be under you check your glove department for his letter. Knowing you, it'll at least be a few weeks.

"Idiot." He thinks to himself.

Your laugh echos in his head right before he's engulfed in flames. He wonders if your homemade cream could heal these new burns. Can you see him now? Tell him you're proud. Death isn't so sweet as he imagined, he wants to tell you, but seeing your face dissolve with his vision as he burns up is as close to heaven as he'll get.

In the end, you were right. You always were. It is nice to leave Japan. Just for a bit.

#mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha x reader #mha x reader #dabi #touya todoroki #dabi x reader #mha dabi #dabi angst #mha touya todoroki #touya todoroki x reader #touya x reader #mha todoroki touya #touya todoroki angst #mha touya #touya angst

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