#how are these bangs going to turn out? who knows not me

[kasagia]

Right Hand - Epilogue

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: Your future with your baron. Your dream future. Your long-won future. Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; It's very hard for me to end this one… Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART VI ~•♤♤♤•~

"Count Rabban." You nod when you pass Feyd's brother on your way to the throne room. To your surprise, the man stops and bows to you, which makes you frown at his extraordinary and strange behaviour.

"Lady Y/N. My congratulations." The man says, stunning you for a while. Your heartbeat accelerates when you wonder how the hell he could tell that you are pregnant.

"Um... thank you." You answer uncertainly and look at Feyd. He tightens up at his brother's words; you can see that he is clearly furious at his brother's comment. What the fuck was going on here?

"You should go, brother. We still have a lot of rats to hunt down." Fed says this and puts his hand at the bottom of your back, pushing you towards the throne room, as if he wanted to walk away from Rabban as soon as possible.

"Of course. I'm surprised you won't join me, but if I were you, I'd keep an eye on my woman too. After all, pregnancy is a real blessing for us.” You froze at his words. You look stunned at Feyd, who seems to be getting more and more… nervous. You frown, confused by everything that is happening around you. Since when in hell have these two been civil towards each other?

"Obviously. Just go." Feyd hastens him and practically pushes you into the throne room. He shuts the door behind you with a loud bang, not allowing any servants or guards to follow you.

He doesn't give you a second glance. He goes straight to the Arrakis projection and starts explaining to you the recent actions he took while you were... unconscious. However, you can't focus on what he's saying; your thoughts are still revolving around what Rabban said, so at some point during his long speech, you simply interrupt him and blurt out:

"Pregnancy? Who the hell is pregnant?"

There is a long silence in the room after your question. You think this is the first time you've seen Feyd-Rautha… embarrassed. And as much as it's a new and strange sight, you want to know what the hell is going on. So you walk up to him and grab his chin tightly, forcing him to look you in the eyes.

"I could have mentioned that you were with my heir to mobilise our troops to march to the desert and stop the great families from... complaining about me searching for you instead of focusing on killing Muad'Dib." You blink a few times, staring at him in shock when you hear this.

Your hand falls between you, letting go of his chin, which you can tell he's mildly happy about. You frown, trying to imagine him telling all the great houses that you were pregnant with his child.

Which actually isn't far from the truth now…

"I… Why the fuck am I not even surprised? Anything else besides this fake pregnancy?" You ask, shifting your gaze from him to the map of the desert, where the points of stationing units, the movement of soldiers, observed points, and recently conquered objects were marked.

"I couldn't say that you were just my concubine. They wouldn't take me seriously..." He starts, eyeing you carefully, having no idea what you were going to do. Just in case, he puts his hand on his belt, ready to activate his shield at any moment. Although he doubted anything could actually protect him from your anger.

"What the hell did you tell them?" You ask, annoyed, turning to face him. He takes a step back, pretending to move something on the map, but really wanting to be as far away from you as possible when he gives you this message.

"That you are my fiancée." He repeats calmly, taking your exasperated sigh and rubbing of your temple as a good sign. At least you're not attacking him with a blade. Wouldn't the idea of marrying him be as... repulsive to you as it used to be?

"You announced to the great families that I am your fiancée AND that we are going to have a child? And they believed you?"

"Yes, why not?" He asks, furrowing his hairless eyebrows at your surprise, slightly offended that you thought it was such impossible thing to happen.

"Because the very idea of you proposing to me is ridiculous and unrealistic." Your eyes widen as you see him move to kneel in front of you. You grab his elbow tightly, not letting him move even an inch, as you shut down his attempt to propose to you. "Do NOT do this now. How could you? And behind my back..."

"I can ask you the same question. Why did you literally stab me with a blade and leave me bleeding on the ship so you could play 'How to Destroy the Atreides House', risking your life, and worse, without me? I should punish you for that, little witch."

You stare at each other defiantly, each insisting that the other is wrong and carries more fault. However, the more you think about it, the more you come to the conclusion that maybe he was right. You both did shitty things. And it is possible that you will make even more of them in the future.

"Call it even?" You finally ask, deciding to let it go this time. After all, you had smaller things to worry about. Arrakis. Emperor. Irulan. Maybe he will finally tell you what happened during your... not necessarily voluntary absence.

"Only this time." He nods, cupping your cheek in his hand. He seals your deal with a kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth and joining yours in a mad dance as Feyd steals the air from your lungs.

You moan into his mouth, cradling his cheeks in your hands and bringing his face closer to yours as his hands rest on your hips. He manoeuvres you across the room, making you both approach the large throne. You break your kiss as he pushes you onto the stone seat.

"So... what's now?" You ask, placing your hands on his shoulders as he leans on the armrests of the throne, leaning over you.

"Now... I'm going to lock you here, and I am not going to let you go out until we create this heir of ours." He mumbles against your neck, placing feathery kisses there. You sigh softly, running your nails over his bald head.

"Of all the possible excuses, you had to come up with this one?" You ask, trying to maintain what little control you have as the pads of his cold fingers lazily stroke your collarbones. He squeezes your breast, earning a small gasp from you, and he chuckles contentedly, biting into your neck. He reluctantly pulls away from your neck and rests his forehead against yours, taking a moment to look into your eyes.

"I wish you could have seen their faces." He whispers hoarsely, making you shiver, and kisses you again. His plump lips take their time caressing yours as he enjoys the kiss, finally having all the time in the world to bask in your warmth, scent, and taste.

You smile into the kiss, distracted by his proximity. It seems unreal that the two of you can just enjoy each other without worrying about other things, without any urgent matters to attend to, enemies to kill, or evil plans to carry out. It was weird. Pleasantly weird. But you had been under the pressure of something for too long to just enjoy this peaceful, blissful moment without trying to find an excuse to stop him.

So when his hand goes under your skirt and lazily caresses your thigh, you place your hands on his chest and gently push him away from you. You look at him for a moment as he furrows his hairless eyebrows, trying to understand why you're doing this.

"Me too. But as much as I want to fool around with you, I think that we should focus on diplomacy and policy for a while. It wouldn't be in Giedi Prime's interest to create heirs before we establish government, and... can you stop undressing me?" You ask as his fingers begin to untie the bodice of your dress, realising that you were only pushing him away for the sake of politics and to solve Giedi Prime's issue first, which he obviously didn't want to do now.

"I have been covering the policy for the past few weeks. Now, I have more important things to worry about. Like how to untie those damn strings with one hand."

"But... the council..." You try, sighing as his mouth attacks your neck again as he loosens the ties of your dress, exposing your breasts to him.

"They will wait." He mumbles as he moves from your neck to your collarbones, his fingers teasing your nipples. You sigh, biting your bottom lip as he explores every little bit of your skin. "I have a little fantasy that I want to fulfill with you, little witch…" He purrs against your breasts. You hold your breath as he suddenly grips your hips tightly and lifts you up. He sits down on the throne and settles you on his lap, completely removing your dress and throwing it behind him. He licks his lips, staring at your naked form, and you blush under his watchful gaze. Bastard…

"But… oh, Feyd…" You moan as he leans towards you and takes one of your nipples into his mouth. You dig your nails into his shoulders. Sitting astride him and stabilising herself on his lap. His other hand slides from your chest down your stomach to your core as he teases your overstimulated pussy. He chuckles against your breast, only intensifying your sensations as he discovers how wet you already are for him.

"Yes… that's right, my right hand. Allow me to repay you for your faithful service to your new Baron." You kiss him hard, passionately, tugging at his clothes and stripping him off of them roughly, wanting to feel his abalaster, muscled chest as quickly as possible.

He doesn't do anything to help you. He just teases you, getting you so aroused and excited that you can't even dream of interrupting him again. Instead, you take and take everything it has to offer you. And it's a pleasantly blissful change.

"Marry me." He whispers in your ear when you lie wrapped in sheets in his bedroom after a fairly intense session.

You sigh and roll your eyes at him. He had been trying to convince you to marry him for a week, and as pleasant as the idea seemed, you were well aware that it wasn't that easy. He couldn't just choose a wife, and moreover, a woman without a family name or fortune.

"You know it's not that easy. I have neither titles nor a significant family name. I am only your right hand. The Council will never support this idea." You sigh, snuggling into him. He huffs, offended by your response, but wraps his arms around you anyway and holds you tightly to his chest. As if to at least make sure that you wouldn't be able to leave him even though you didn't agree to marry him.

"Have I ever asked anyone for their opinion? Have I ever cared about the opinion of these old people?"

"No. But you should. You are a baron now. Marrying me would make you weaker in their eyes. Besides, being your concubine absolutely suits me." You speak even though you don't know who you're trying to fool. Yourself, him, or both of you.

However, you don't take into account that he knows you perfectly. He grabs your chin with two fingers and forces you to look into his icy blue eyes. You shiver as his piercing gaze reaches almost to your soul.

"It is not. I know it well. You never wanted to be just a concubine. That's why you didn't want to accept my courtship for a long time. I don't want you as my concubine; I want you as my wife. I need a strong baroness by my side—one that will be just as terrifying as me. You can't refuse me now. Not after what we went through to be here. I know you don't care about the opinions of anyone in our council, so tell me why you don't want to become my wife, little witch?"

You look at him for a long moment, wondering how much you can tell him from what you saw in your visions. He senses your hesitation and gently pushes you off of him and moves to get out of bed, but you stop him by wrapping your arms around him. You rest your chin on his shoulder and whisper into his ear.

"I … I had visions … visions in which our marriage ended terribly … and I don't want it to happen. Not after how long we fought for each other." You say that and press a kiss on his earlobe. You hug his back, ready for him to walk away from you in anger, but instead, he places his hand on yours and squeezes it tightly.

"Haven't you been the one who did not believe in the prophecies and fate? Who believed that we create our destiny ourselves?"

"Yes, but..."

"Then marry me." He interrupts you and turns to look at you. He cups your cheeks in his hands, forcing you to look into his eyes. "I promise, I won't hurt you. Never. Not me. I promise to protect you against everything that will come and to be by your side for good and bad. I promise you all of myself and everything I am. I promise to go back to our bed and keep you in it even after the worst quarrel in the world, because I am nothing without you by my side, and I prefer to argue and fight you forever than not to have you with me. I... I just want you."

His words tug at your heart. You know he's not effusive, that he doesn't like talking about his feelings, and this is a very rare moment when he shows you his weaknesses. And you really appreciate it, but you can't help but have doubts.

"But what if..." He doesn't let you finish your sentence. He cuts you off with a kiss, caressing your lips with his, preventing you from making any protest.

He places his hands on your waist and holds you tightly close to him, ignoring your attempts to speak. He pushes you onto the bed and looms over you, still kissing you. Not until he's sure he's taken any air from your lungs.

You inhale quickly, flushed as he strokes the pad of his thumb over your cheekbone, drinking in the appearance of you beneath him: flushed, dishevelled with beautifully swollen lips.

"Marry me." He whispers, pressing a short kiss to your lips. "Marry me." He repeats against your cheek. "Marry me." Another feathery kiss, this time on your earlobe. You shiver as his hot whisper reaches your ear. "Marry me." A kiss on your neck. "Marry me." A kiss on your collarbone. "Marry me." A kiss in the valley of your breasts. "Marry me." A kiss on your stomach. "Marry me." A kiss on your pussy crying with need.

You sigh, scratching your nails against his scalp as he keeps whispering the words against your clit, working towards your orgasm as if you're going to say yes and accept his proposal the moment he takes you over the edge. At first, you find his attempts absurd, but with every second, every kiss, and every whispered request, you realise how much you want to just say yes and let him do whatever he wants with you.

You wrap your legs around him, digging your heels into his back and pulling him closer to you. His hand wraps around yours in a tight grip as his tongue works tirelessly to please you. You don't know how he keeps whispering his request, but you know when your eyes meet for a moment that you can't respond with anything other than...

"Yes."

You growl as he stops all his movements and lifts his head to look at you. You tighten your legs around him, willing him to move back into place, but he stays firmly above you.

"Feyd..." You complain, but he silences you with a quick kiss, so quick that you don't even get a good taste of yourself on his tongue.

"Later, impatient needy witch." He scolds you. In retaliation, you reach for his nipple and pinch it, making him growl. He squeezes your hips and leans in to leave a hickey on your neck.

"You made me this way." You complain, propping yourself up on your elbows and pressing your lips to his, stealing a kiss from him with a giggle. He pushes you back onto the bed, your head bobbing, and he smiles, showing you his black teeth.

"And I plan to do much more to you when you're my wife. So, will you marry me, little witch?"

"Why doesn't this sound like a question but a threat?" You ask, smirking, not yet giving him the answer he wants to hear. You can barely contain your chuckle, watching as he furrows his hairless eyebrows at you in irritation.

"I've been asking you for a week, it's your fault my tone changes from day to day when you keep me waiting."

"Don't you know that the best things are worth waiting for?"

"They are. And I've been waiting for you for years. So maybe you can finally end tihis? Can you do this for me, my right hand? Will you be my baroness?" He asks you, stroking your cheek, giving you his full attention as he waits for your response. But you just can't help yourself from teasing him a little bit more.

"Such a high promotion… people will think I slept with you to get it." You joke stupidly, enjoying your small victory, when he rolls his eyes at you in annoyance. You're lucky his daggers were abandoned halfway from the door to the bed... otherwise you would have ended up with a dagger at your throat long ago. Not that he would ever hurt you. Just to scare you a little.

"Y/N..." He growls at you and nuzzles your temple. You place your hand on his neck and pull him into a gentle kiss, lazily brushing your lips against his. A low murmur escapes his throat as he pulls you closer to him.

He's practically lying on top of you, keeping his body weight on his arms but letting you feel every inch of him against yours. You enjoy this newfound intimacy with him. This closeness, sense of security, love, deep adoration, and peace. So how can you say no to him when he prolongs every second of your kiss, tries to maintain contact with your body as long as possible, and treats you with a tenderness he has never shown to anyone before?

"Yes... yes, I will marry you." You whisper, smiling as you watch his reaction. He doesn't believe you at first, trying to make sure you're not joking with him again, and when he makes sure that you have no intention to take back your words, he leans in, crushing his lips against yours.

You smile throughout the kiss, even as he pinches your sides, his form of punishment for teasing him for so long. He bites your lip, just enough for him to taste your metallic blood on his tongue, sealing the deal between the two of you. You take his hint and bite his lip yourself, drawing blood from him.

"About damn time." He murmurs against your lips, letting you take a few breaths before trapping your lips in a needy kiss again.

Such a moment of bliss and tenderness between you is very much needed. Especially after recent events. However, you know that you won't be able to enjoy peace with him for long. But as long as you both had each other's backs, you could face the world. And soon you will have one more little human to protect.

You stand in your blood-red wedding dress, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Baroness of Giedi Prime. Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought you would come this far, especially not when you boarded a Harkonnen ship in fear to escape the Bene Gesserit and your destiny. The destinies you were meant to fulfil... just a little differently than the Reverend Mothers would have wanted.

"The essence of the bride hunt is that she runs away from her groom. She is not supposed to be waiting in their chamber for him. I didn't expect you to make it so easy for me to catch you. This isn't like you." Feyd grumbles, suddenly finding himself behind you. You sigh as he wraps his arms around you, pressing your back against his chest. You take his hand in yours and squeeze, resting your head on his shoulder. You can't help but smile as your black and gold wedding rings reflect in the mirror. "You've ruined my fun, wife. And I should consider leaving the veil outside our bedroom door as an insult and your lack of faith in my abilities to find you."

"I didn't feel like running away from you today. You could say you've had your fair share of bride hunting over the years I've been here." He chuckles against your neck, placing a few small kisses there.

"So clever. My baroness. My wife." He purrs, marking your neck, releasing one of his hands from your grip, and removing the ruby necklace from around your neck.

"I have a gift for you." You tell him before he starts stripping you out of your wedding dress. Black diamonds woven into your dress create beautiful, embroidered red flowers, and the sleeves and neckline of the dress are decorated with lace, of course, also in the colour of blood. You think Feyd sacrificed a few slaves on purpose to show the seamstresses... the perfect colour for your wedding dress.

As beautiful as the dress was, you'd also rather have it lying on the floor. However, you need to tell him something important before he starts your wedding night.

"You have? I did not expect it. I have nothing in return for you. I can always…"

"You will not bring me the heads of your concubines on a gold platter. We agreed that they would become my servants and that would remain so." You interrupt him before he can propose it to you again. You watch him take a breath before he speaks again. You place your finger on his lips, silencing him, knowing full well what he wanted to say. "I don't want anyone's head. It's enough for me that you hung Atreides' head like some kind of decorative horn in the throne room. By the way, we'll have to take it off when the Emperor's delegation arrives."

"Again, you're spoiling my fun, wife." He grumbles, offended, but doesn't let go of you from his embrace. He rests his chin on your shoulder and looks at the two of you in the mirror. He plays with the bandage on your hand and smiles, remembering how he pierced your joined hands with a dagger a few hours ago. You were his. His baroness. His woman. "What do you have for me?" He asks, nuzzling your temple before pressing a kiss to your earlobe.

Your eyes meet in the mirror as you take his hands in yours. You gently slide them down from your collarbones, over your chest, and into your belly. You press his hands so he can feel the tiny pregnancy bump through the fabric of your dress.

You watch his reaction carefully, biting your lip as you try not to smile at his shocked look. His fingers press further against your stomach, as if to make sure what he feels is real. He tenses when he realises it's true.

"You are… how long?"

"A few weeks."

"A few weeks?" He asks, both surprised and offended that you kept him in the dark for so long. You frown at him and turn to look at him properly and not through the mirror.

"I wanted to make sure she is okay and grows properly."

"She?" You frown when you hear the disappointed tone with which he receives this information. You feel the anger boiling inside you, all the joy and excitement leaving you as you realise this isn't what he expected. That he expected you to give him the Kwisatz Haderach first.

"Yes... is that a problem?" You ask him, furious. He realises what it might have sounded like to you. He sighs, looking away from you and focusing on the wall behind you. He clenches his fists and takes a few breaths, trying to calm down and not think about how you could ever accuse him of discriminating against your unborn child based on gender.

"NO. Not at all. I don't care about the sex, as long as it's healthy. I just... thought we were going to have a boy first." You shudder slightly, remembering what Atreides had shown you on Arrakis—the future that would await you at the hands of your own son. But it was different then.

You did everything to prevent your future from being like this: you confessed your love to Feyd first, you made sure that you showed him the same devotion as he showed to you, and you made sure that your firstborn would be a daughter. However, there was still a small seed of fear in you. After all, Feyd killed his mother, so how could you be sure that, ironically, your potential son wouldn't do the same?

"What's wrong?" Feyd asks, cupping your chin between his two fingers. You flinch, but you don't move away from him.

You place your hand on his, holding it in a tight grip as you steady your breathing, not even noticing that you had found yourself in such a state of panic. You close your eyes and focus on your breathing, the beating of your heart, and the feeling of Feyd's hand in yours as you try to calm down.

"I… had… visions."

"Of course. Visions." He replies mockingly and removes his hand from your grip. He takes a few steps back, looking at you with reproach and bitterness in his blue eyes, which now resemble the ocean in a dangerous storm. "I thought that by defeating Atreides, we were done with visions, fate, destiny and especially with hiding important information from each other. But I guess I was wrong after all. Well, so do you. You can take the Bene Gesserit out of the order, but you can't take the order out of the Bene Gesserit."

"Feyd… it's not like that." You say this as you reach for him, but he pulls away from you before your fingertip can touch his skin. It hurts you that he thinks you have any connection to these witches, but you can't say you're surprised by his behaviour or that it's unreasonable. You just couldn't tell him what you saw without worrying about him getting paranoid.

"So what's it like?! You're not hiding anything from me? You don't make decisions completely by yourself? I understand that you want to be your own boss and make your own decisions, but you're my wife! What would you do if the roles were reversed? What if I hid from you what you hid from me?!"

"Feyd..." You try again, but this time he pulls away from you as if your touch would burn him. Before you can say anything, he storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him with such force that you're sure everyone in Giedi Prime heard it.

You sigh in defeat and lean your head against the wall. You hiss as the crown on your head prevents you from leaning back comfortably. You yank it out of your elaborately styled hairstyle and throw it across the room, not even flinching when the jewels shatter on the floor.

"Don't worry my sweethearts, everything will be fine. Dad's a little mad at me, but he's right. Even if he acts like an overgrown, spoiled little baby. I promise you that I will do everything to make us happy. All four of us." You whisper, wondering how the hell you're supposed to deal with your angry husband. This is not what your wedding night should be like. But was anything in the two of you's lives as it should have been?

"I'm having a little déjà vu, aren't you?" You ask, leaning on the doorframe of his private training room as his 'toy' falls dead under the blow he received from the furious man which now is your husband.

You're reminded of how you found him here in a similar condition a few months ago. Only then were you just his right-hand man, and he showed no... visible signs of interest in you. And now you were his wife and pregnant. And thousands of other things happened along the way.

"Leave." He growls at you and plunges his blade into the dead man several times. You sigh, throwing the towel you brought for him to the nearest chair and pulling out your own dagger.

"Fight with me." You request, looking at him carefully. He stops in his process of punching holes in the dead man's body, changing it into a sieve, and he looks at you in shock.

"You are with child." He responds emotionlessly, going back to abusing the prisoner's body.

"And? I haven't been pregnant that long that I can't kick your ass." You can see that this comment irritates him by the way he plunges the dagger deeper into the man's flesh. He clenches his jaw tightly, trying his hardest not to snap at you. After all, you were pregnant. He had to be gentle with you.

"Get out of here, woman. I won't fight you in this condition." He replies firmly, turning his back to you and walking to the table to pour himself some water.

You take a closer look at the muscles in his back; his body is painted red with the blood of the people he killed in his rampage. You purse your lips, shaking your head.

You sneak up on him and press the blade to his throat as he drinks. His Adam's apple bobs at the feeling of your cold steel against his neck. He turns his head to give you an annoyed look, as if you were a cat that had scratched him with its claws.

"Y/N..." He mutters menacingly, clenching his hands into fists. You lean in, lips brushing his earlobe and biting it after you whisper back:

"Feyd."

The low growl is all the warning you get. He pushes you away from him and reaches for his blade. You block his attack, your steels colliding with each other in a distinctive clanging sound. He doesn't move to attack first, watching you carefully and blocking your every attack as you try to leave a small scratch on his skin. You're furious that he's holding himself back and that he's making sure his blade doesn't even touch your skin, which is exposed by your regular combat gear.

You growl as you manage to break through his defences and stab him in the shoulder. He screams in anger and finally starts attacking you. You gasp, blocking his blows every now and then, and for obvious reasons, he doesn't hit you from the waist down. You're starting to get tired, but the adrenaline coursing through your veins and your own pride won't let you stop your fight. Feyd notices it, though. And he decides to end it.

He drops his blade and grabs your arms tightly. He pushes you against the wall, pinning you against it with his body. You both breathe quickly, staring wordlessly into each other's eyes as you press the dagger to his neck. His black blood drips from his shoulder onto the floor, the only sound in the empty room apart from your ragged breaths.

"I love you. Don't ever doubt that." You whisper and lean forward, capturing his lips in a furious kiss. His fingers dig into your arms even more, surely leaving small bruises in the shape of his fingertips as he uses his body to block you from making any movement.

You moan, pressing the dagger harder against his throat as he bites your lower lip. Feyd growls, and with a quick, confident movement, he grabs the gun from your hand and throws it across the room, unknowingly hitting the dead man's body.

You moan as his hands land on your hips. He lifts you up, rubbing his length against your pussy and biting your chin. You growl, digging your nail into his neck and wrapping your legs around his hips, gasping as you become wetter with each of his light thrusts into your clothed core.

"If I knew that all I had to do to get you like this was to argue with you, I would have done it the moment you chose that disgusting cake for our wedding."

"The cake was delicious, it's not my fault you're such a picky pain in the ass." You mumble back and bite into his neck. He moans softly, grabbing your hair in a tight grip.

"I quite like being a pain in your ass." He says this and grabs your hips. You wrap your arms around him and hold on to him as he carries you through the halls of the Harkonnen stronghold. You hide your face in the crook of his neck, trying to ignore the curious glances from the servants and passersby who look away as soon as they meet Feyd's hostile gaze. "I wish I had the opportunity to get you out of that dress. You looked beautiful at our wedding."

"I won't wear that dress again just because you decided to do your monthly sulk today. It took the maids an hour to put me in it." You grumble as he opens the door to your chambers.

"Do not worry honey. I'll undress you. And I will dress you up. And I'll undress you again. I have all the time in the world, my wife."

"And here I thought you'd rather spend your time differently than dressing me like a doll. More… active and enjoyable." You giggle as he places you on the bed at your remark. His fingers wander under your black linen shirt as he unhurriedly undresses you.

"Do you doubt that I have the time, skill, and stamina for both?" He proves his point by leaving a few hickeys on your neck. You smirk, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him closer to you. You wonder since when he has so much power over you (and you over him) that it only takes a few hours for you to reconcile.

Either you've come a long and successful way in developing your relationship, or you're simply getting too old for constant drama and want to finally have a moment of peace. But you weren't complaining if every little fight you had would end with you acting like idiots in love with each other again at the end of the day.

You sigh, drawing patterns on your husband's head. His arms tighten around you as you move, as if he's afraid you'll try to get away from him.

"As much as I like this, I must remind you that you have other responsibilities as a baron besides holding me."

"Possible. But holding my pregnant wife is my most important duty, to which I choose to devote myself completely today. Especially since you are getting closer to giving birth. The birth of twins, I would like to point out." He mumbles, pressing a kiss and rubbing his nose against your bump, and nuzzling into you.

"It's just childbirth, not a fight on Arrakis against the Fremen." You joke, rubbing his back. He purrs, snuggling even closer into you, making sure his arm wraps protectively around your belly.

"I'd be a lot more confident about your safety if you went to fight those rats instead."

"Said the man cuddled up to his pregnant wife." You try to ease his concern just a little. But you know your husband very well. Enough to know that he's stubborn as hell to give in so easily and forget about his fears.

"Does it bother you that I'm forming a bond with my unborn heirs?"

"No. Not at all."

"So let me continue, little witch, or I will silence you." You laugh, fully aware of his ways of shutting you up. He rolls his eyes at you, stands up, and kisses you, making you giggle even more. He breaks the kiss and presses his lips against your forehead before returning to his position as your protector.

"I'll be alright. We're okay. All three of us." You assure him and place your hand on his cheek, caressing it tenderly.

"I should punish you for hiding something so important from me again." He brings up the fact that… I missed telling him that yes, you are pregnant, but with twins. A girl, as you said, and a boy.

"That was months ago. Besides, there are many things I told you. Like my visions and everything. And I didn't get an award for it, so you can say we're even."

You defend yourself, and he just chuckles. A rare thing. But it seemed that with you and in the solitude of your shared quarters, (yes, he refused to have separate bedrooms. Something about how he had waited too long for you to spend even a night without you in his bed now anyway.) he did it a lot more often.

"You're way too smart, little witch. If you didn't love me, you would dethrone me in a week."

"Maybe even less." You banter with him with a smirk. You squeal as he tickles you, feigning outrage at your insult. You grab his hand in a tight grip and stop him.

You both freeze when your stomach suddenly bulges in one place. Feyd looks worriedly from you to your belly and hesitantly reaches up with one finger to stroke the small bulge. It disappears as quickly as he touches it. You giggle, realising that one of the kids must have stuck out its leg.

"I will teach them to fight. Both of them. They will be great leaders. One will get Arrakis and Lankiveil and the other will get Giedi Prime. They will support each other and fight for each other. They will get everything."

"Everything we didn't have."

"Yes." Feyd says thoughtfully, examining your belly. He presses his mouth there and cups your belly with his hands. You giggle when you suddenly get kicked by one of the twins, and you pull him towards you to hug you again.

"To be honest, I expected the first thing you would do was make them fight the snakes to prove their strength."

"I'm not my uncle."

"I know." You say and press a kiss to the top of his head. "You're… so much more. Someone much better than anyone ever wanted or thought you were. Never doubt it."

He nods and hugs you tighter. You sigh, happy with how close he is to you and the way he holds you. You could assure him that everything was fine, but the truth was that you were afraid of what the future would bring. If you were wrong... no. You couldn't think like that. You had Feyd by your side. And that was all that really mattered.

"We should name the girl Katerina."

"Katerina? Why?" You ask, turning your gaze towards him and frowning. The last thing you would expect him to do was to think about names for your children.

"I have a good feeling." He replies with a shrug and pulls you closer to him. You know him too well not to know he's up to something. However, you decide not to ask him about it. After all, each of you deserves to have your little secrets. Something you both learned to respect.

"Well, since you've already named the girl, I want to name the boy." He smiles and kisses the corner of your mouth at your request.

"And what do you want to name our son?"

"Feydor."

"Feydor? Why?"

"I have a good feeling." You answer him the same way. He rolls his eyes, but he doesn't ask you anything either. He hugs you tighter and presses his lips against your forehead. It's nice to have him so close to me and feel almost... normal.

Even if your normal was completely different from what was generally perceived as one.

"Your son got lost in the halls of Giedi Prime, the guards and harpies barely found him." Feyd grumbles as he enters the war room. You look up from the papers and watch as your husband slumps onto the sofa with a glass in his hand.

"My son?"

"Our son." He corrects himself, knowing full well better than to raise your ire with such a simple mistake.

"Are you blaming me? Need I remind you because of who Katerina almost killed the heir of Caladan last week because she was bragging about her fighting skills by actually fighting that boy in the arena?" You reproach him. He rolls his eyes and puts his half-full glass on the table next to him, not protesting or arguing with you. "I thought so. So don't blame me for teaching our son my tricks when you teach yours to our daughter."

"I can't believe how easily you turned me into an obedient husband." He complains, standing up and walking over to you. He rests his chin on your head and looks over the conquest plans you've made, glancing at the reports from the front that Rabban sent you.

"It wasn't that difficult at all." You banter with him and cup his chin. You kiss him, enjoying the softness of his lips. He cups your cheek in his hand and deepens it, moaning into your mouth.

You stop when you hear giggling coming from the secret corridor leading to the room. You raise an eyebrow and listen, realising that it's your twins trying to sneak up on you two.

"These kids are going to kill us both."

"We won't give up without a fight, my Baron." You whisper, standing up silently, making no sound as you two establish a 'plan of attack' on your children.

"Oh we certainly won't, my Baroness." He agrees with you with a smile. You answer him with your own, your teeth as black as his.

A moment later, the laughter of your two children echoes throughout the Harkonnen stronghold as you go on a little chase through the secret corridors.

The dagger that Feyd gave you hangs as a decoration in the war room. The steel is old but in good condition, although it is chipped in several places. Or rather, melted under the influence of the blood and wounds you inflicted. You never decided to repair it. It was a reminder of what you went through. All the way from being Feyd's right hand to the Baroness. His wife. The mothers of your two children.

Any visions of the future you had were good. Maybe not perfect, but what would your life be without a little bit of struggle? You and Feyd have proven that you can overcome any obstacle, enemy, or anything that could tear you apart. You were above fate and destiny.

And you will fight for your family with everything you have. Against every Bene Gesserit and everyone who wanted to hurt you or separate you. Being Feyd's right hand has prepared you perfectly for this.

So, this is the end. It feels strange to part with this story (it's the first time I feel this way). At first it was supposed to be just a oneshot, but thanks to your comments and involvement in the story, this miniseries was created. Thank you all for every comment, heart and all the love for this story. Thank you!!!!! (And I hope you will stay longer, for another mini-series with Feyd. ;D) Thank you so much again!! 😊🥰🩵🩵🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🩵🩵 ~ Kasagia

Taglist: (I REALLLLY hope that everyone who wanted to be here is here...😅 I;m sorry if I missed someone <3) @skymoonandstardust @prettybubblesintheair @thegabbyh @himesuedi @wo-ming-bai @beebeechaos @mamawiggers1980 @moonsoulk @avidreader73 @heartarianagran @dreamlandcreations @ancientbeing10 @lovereadingfanfic @jeansjoie @workof-a-rr-t @aixicl @ladyredstar1991 @evangelineimagine @hobobobo-fett56 @happyant3 @marsflys @aaaaaamond @kamcrazy123 @k1swass @yum-yahgurt @tyns13 @oh-you-mean-me @menari @tyns13 @vaf24 @dacreshoney @emrennoll-blog @tian-monique @slightlypossessed @celestialadrift @lauramooij05 @flaps200 @chixnugg22 @aaaaaamond @marvelfangirl04 @sw33tsnow @emeraldsgirl @imyourbubblegumpop @tempt-ress @harkonnin @k1swass @alana4610 @cloudroomblog @lotus-888 @lowlyloved @spoolsofgreenspoolsofblack @w3ird11 @kythefangirl25 @hobobobo-fett56 @nj452896 @oneandonlybbygrl @noirecatt @iloved1lfs0 @mamawiggers1980 @lololfixu @barnes70stark @obsessedvibee @aaaaaamond @workof-a-rr-t  @oneandonlybbygrl @alexa4040 @lowlyloved @toertchen @em-100 @caintheking @justarandomflowerchildofthenight @hrtifyeren @psychoffin @avidreader73

[mattscoquette]

✧ ˚🎀 twitch stream

your key entered the slot of chris and nicks apartment, you letting yourself in quietly. matt had been in and out of meetings all morning, and you were stuck at work until the later afternoon, so your boyfriends brothers were babysitting the girls until matt was able to pick them up. from there, he decided to just spend some time with his daughters and their uncles because it had been quiet some time since they all were together. you climbed the stairs, entering matt’s room to see him sat back in his gaming chair, a controller in hand while both of your daughters were sat on either side of his lap.

one of the little blonde-haired girls looked over to you, her eyes lighting up. “mommy!” stella cheered, clambering off of matt’s lap to run over to you. you quickly crouched to her level, opening your arms to envelop her in a hug.

“hi baby,” you smiled, playing a kiss on her cheek, “how are you?”

she pulled away, flashing you a gapped-tooth smile. “look! my tooth fell out!”

“wow, and how did that happen?” you asked quizzically, now standing at your full height.

“ask uncle chrissy.” matt chimed in, your other daughter, lorelai, still sat on his lap.

you laughed, going over to matt, noticing he was streaming live on twitch. your arms wrapped around your boyfriends shoulders, placing your head next to his as you gave him a quick kiss on the side of his jaw.

“hi my love,” he said, turning his head to the side to give you a real kiss. “how was work?”

“it was okay,” you sighed, pulling away. you directed your attention towards lorelai, who’s attention was fixed on the monitor in front of her. “you like this game, sweetie?” you laughed, her focus amusing you.

“mhmmmm,” she hummed up at you, nodding her head. “uncle nick told me he’s better than daddy, but i don’really think so.”

“i am better than your daddy.” nick chimed in, his voice echoing loud from matt’s computer speakers. this caused you four to laugh, stella finding her way back to her dads lap.

“nick you’re literal dogshit at this game.” chris argued over the call.

“chris,” matt scolded, trying to cover his daughters ears. “why don’t you tell everyone how my daughter lost her tooth today, hm?”

“yeah, i’m curious to know too.” you agreed, glancing over at the chat as the commented were filled with compliments to you and the girls, everyone saying how the stream instantly got better since you got there.

“well, you know how it was loose already, right?” chris began, taking a large swig of his drink. you all hummed in agreement. “well, me and stel were playing on the couch, and she wouldn’t stop jumping off the side onto me.” this caused you to laugh a little loud, that sounding exactly like stella.

“next thing i know, she misses my arms and bangs her face into my shoulder, and when she comes back up her front tooth is gone.” chris exclaims.

“you tell mommy what happened after that, munchkin.” matt told stella, diverting his attention away from the game to look at the young girl sitting with him.

“uncle nick had to push the couch to get my tooth!” she giggled.

“my goodness,” you sighed, “that sounds like quite a lot of trouble.”

“and uncle chrissy said that stel’s gon’get so much money from the tooth fairy.” lorelai told you mater-of-factly.

“of course she is, lo.” chris agreed, smiling wide, making a mental note to slip matt a twenty before you all leave tonight.

“daddy, what’re all these words on the screen say?” lorelai asked, instantly changing the subject. she was looking at the monitor that displayed the twitch chat, all the comments coming through at a rapid pace.

“try’n read them, lo, show mommy how we’ve been practicing your reading.” matt told her, wrapping his arm around her tightly and planting a kiss to her head.

she leaned forward, squinting as she tried to read the words as they flashed on the screen. “oh! i see my name!” she exclaimed, looking up to her dad and pointing.

“yeah,” matt smiled, looking at the comments with her, “and look, there’s sissy’s name too, and mommy’s.” he told her, showing her the comments had their names in them.

the young girl giggled, grabbing her sisters arm to get her attention “look, stel, they saying your name!”

stella smiled, her face lighting up as she recognized the letters that spelled her name. her eyes squinted, seeing the chat began to say more words that were at a five-year old level and at a slower pace so they were able to read. “daddy! daddy! look! that one says cat!” she squealed, nearly falling off matt’s lap as she posted to the monitor.

“good job, baby.” matt smiled brightly, hugging both his girls tightly.

matt and his brothers continued to stream for about another hour before the girls began fussy, saying they were hungry. as he ended the stream, chris and nick came into matt’s bedroom to say goodbye to their nieces. they both wrapped the girls in bear hugs, chris even picking them both up and spinning them around, planting a large kiss on each of their cheeks.

“call me tomorrow morning when the tooth fairy comes,” he told stella, placing her back on the ground, “and lorelai, you call and tell me how much she brought your sister, got it?”

both the girls giggled and nodded, saying goodbye to nick and chris once more before joining you and matt in the living room as you made your way back to the car to head to you and matt’s shared apartment for the evening.

authors note: aaa first thing in the dad!matt au!!!! i’m so super excited for thisss. not sure how often i will update but whatever yall want for this i will try to deliver

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: @alorsxsturn @sturniolossss @cammie4298 @franticroads @sturnsssbow @cams5sos @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @mattscurlygirly @simply-a-simper @sturnifyed @freshlovie @imwetforyourmom @69isabella69 @mattsturnxoxo @stonermattsgf @mmay4ever @pettydollie @fawnchives @pr1ncessmatt @lanas-doll @55sturn @grimholic @livvy4realll @freshloveee @hollandsangel @mattspolitank @luverboychris @selenascorner @jetaimevous @sarosfilms @l34n

[clockwayswrites]

Part 2

Part 1

Danny & Cass, Cyan, Wind chime bells @wandixx

Cass placed the backpack down on the kitchen counter, unzipped it, and spread the opening purposefully.

Alfred looked from the bag to Cass, one pointed white brow raised. Keeping her eyes locked with Alfred, she took an apple from the fruit bowl and placed it inside the bag.

A moment later the brow lowered and a small smile pulled at the corner of his lips. “Ah, looking for a picnic, Miss Cassandra?”

Pleased he had gotten it, Cass nodded eagerly and held up two fingers.

“A picnic for two? Is one of your siblings joining you?” He asked.

Cass shook her head.

“Ah. Are you off to see a friend?”

Cass nodded and scooted the bag a little closer towards Alfred.

“Well then,” Alfred said after a beat, “any allergies your friend has?”

She took a moment to think about and then shook her head. She’d always seen Danny eat everything that either of them could get their hands on.

“And is your friend human?”

That was an odd question. Cass’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“You would not believe the things that both Master Richard and Master Jason got up to,” Alfred answered, looking like a man who had been long suffering.

Cass gave a little giggle, which softened Alfred’s expression.

“If you will give me a small time, I will put together a meal for you and your friend. Perhaps, while I do so, you would go and let Master Bruce know that you are going out.”

That seemed odd, but Cass figured it was part of being in a family now. They often liked to know where she was or tell each other when they were going somewhere not the manor or would be be back to the manor. It was still taking time for Cass to be used to all of these rules that weren’t rules.

Knocking she understood now, it was apparently polite and sneaking through the shadows was not. To that end, she knocked on the door to Bruce’s study and waited for the slightly distracted ‘come in’ to enter.

“Cass,” Bruce said with a smile when he looked up from his work. “How are you doing today, honey?”

Cass gave him a thumbs up as he turned on the tablet on his desk and spun it around for her. Her tongue stuck out just slightly as she looked for the right images.

🦢🫱🥪🎒 🏠🐦‍⬛➡️🌆

Bruce watched her put in the images. “Ah… Alfred is putting food in a bag for you and you’re going into the city?”

Cass nodded.

“Alright…,” Bruce said slowly. He tapped the edge of the tablet in a soft rhythm. “Thank you for letting me know. First off, do you have your phone with you?”

Cass pulled it out of her back pocket.

“Good. Do you remember what we talked about with the emergency button? How even if you don’t think you need the help, you should press it if there’s any trouble?”

Cass swiped over to the left screen and the large button on it before locking the phone again.

“Alright. Are you willing to wear an alert bracelet too?” Bruce asked and purposeful leaned back into his chair and forced himself to relax. “That way if your phone is taken or breaks you can still press the bracelet. It has a tracker in it, but we won’t use it unless we need to or you tell us too.”

It didn’t really mater to her, she wouldn’t be here if she didn’t trust them, so Cass gave a little shrug and help out her wrist.

Bruce gave an amused snort and opened up one of his drawers. “If you’re any example, daughters really are easier than sons.”

The bracelet, black of course, was a little snug, but it was low profile enough not to get in the way. Cass adjusted it just slightly before she was satisfied. She was confused though when Bruce stood.

He gave her a soft smile. “I’ll drive you into the city. I have some paperwork there I should get anyways.”

That was a little bit of a lie, but Cass decided not to call him on it and simple held out her hand for Bruce to take.

-

“You aren’t supposed to come out here anymore,” Danny said. He’s trying to look mad— arms crossed with a wide stance, but the way he looked at her from under his black bangs gave him away.

Cass patted the spot on the roof next to her. It’s one of their favorite spots to watch the sunset together. Not only was the view of the sunset over the waters amazing, but when there was a breeze they could hear all the bits of metal tied to the bridge next to them clink in the wind. It made Cass sad to think of Danny watching it up here alone now.

He gave an aggrieved sigh but took the indicated spot. Once he’s seated, Cass starts pulling out the food. There are bulging sandwiches, fresh fruit, salty chips, and best of all cookies.

“Wow,” Danny said. His hand twitched like he wanted to just reach out and start eating before the food disappeared.

Cass handed him a sandwich.

“You still shouldn’t be out here,” Danny protested, but the words were muffled by the large bite of food.

Cass just smiled and started on her own.

[wingzie]

The Definition of Jikook: Through Others Eyes

“Becca, how would you define Jikook?” In the last few months I have been asked this several times. And not by Jikookers. Since my bad experiences with offline events, I decided (in typical “me” fashion) to just throw myself out there and keep moving forward. This included joining more Twitter GC’s or Discord Servers and going to more offline events. In one of the most recent events, I lived locally and wanted to help. Therefore, I offered to escort some anxious Army from the train station to the venue.

Anyway, I was still cautious about going and, though there were a few odd moments, the event went really well overall. Something else kindled during this event that I did not expect: The desire to talk more about jikook. Before, even mentioning Jikook as a unit and not as Jimin and Jungkook was almost seen as a taboo. Especially compared to the other units that we are familiar with. Due to me no longer giving a damn and using my main twitter account, people relating to the event knew who I was and they had questions. Very interesting questions. About Jikook. About their enlistment. About the travel show. This was a pleasant surprise and it shocked me that some of these people already knew quite a lot without me telling them anything. Including some information that I thought was only in the Jikook circles. I asked one person why they didn’t talk about Jikook as much on Twitter and they said because they were scared with all the shipper fights. Which is quite valid really. If all you see whenever Jikook is mentioned is constant fighting, then you would distance yourself. It made me realise something though: 

Even if someone isn’t talking about Jikook. They are still watching and are very much aware of what is going on.

Sometimes we amplify the wrong things and we give the loudest voices to the negative comments. When I do the Live Reactions series, I will sometimes have hundreds of positive screenshots to go through and then(somehow) pick twenty-five of them for the thread. It was really interesting to see so many people talking about Jungkook going Live whenever Jimin went overseas or about the travel show. It also reminded some of moments that were sadly forgotten about.

This touches on something else too. Our traditions as a fandom have somewhat changed. With the removal of the social media awards, we no longer boost BTS’ history like we used to. Elon has also changed how we find content, with the removal of “moments” and advanced searching now being really difficult to find things. There is still hope though. With Jin’s return, it was lovely to see so many asking about Jin as a person or how Festa would work. Sharing old memories and watching Bang Bang Con together added so much value to our experiences together as a fandom.It’s something we should treasure. 

BTS have shared so much with us and it’s why I’ll forever be thankful for archive accounts. With every post or comment shared with others, we encourage them to learn more about the members or to watch content they may not have seen before. I experienced this myself when I mentioned Bon Voyage to someone who didn’t know what it was. They had only watched “In the Soop” and were excited by the concept of the members going abroad together. I hope they enjoy it!

Going back to Jikook, I have seen an increase of positive engagement surrounding them. This includes in both online and offline spaces. It makes me excited for when the travel show comes out and the conversations it will create, with so many already floating around. When I am asked how I define them myself, I try to turn it around. It doesn’t matter what I think about Jikook or how I define them. That should be obvious by my account. What matters is how others do and the respect that it holds.

[luvymelody]

NAME : katsuki bakugou + shoto todoroki , boku no hero academia

SONG : moment , vierre cloud

SUMMARY : todoroki and bakugou hate each other's guts, a mutual feeling. but another mutual feeling started to blossom when yet another person starts liking y/n. or do they? wc : 3.3k

[part 1] [part 2] [you're here]

(bakugou is lowky insanely ooc in this soz guys)

(and er if u want pt 4 its gonna take a bit to come out ILY GUYS SORRY)

todoroki glared into the back of bakugou's head, if looks could kill, bakugou would be 18 feet underground actually.

bakugou's arm was around y/n's shoulder, pulling her in from the cold as she huddled herself up to bakugou to keep herself warm.

after the conversation about the two of them liking y/n, she kinda just, forgot about the whole thing after a day.. or maybe she didn't and just didn't want to talk about it. she seemed fine with talking to bakugou and todoroki though, like nothing had even happened.

todoroki strutted towards them, appearing next to y/n's right side as he held onto y/n's hand, grasping it in his hold.

"hey, you two."

todoroki greeted, (is that ooc orrr..) a small sarcastic smile appearing onto his face as he narrowed his eyes at the blonde boy on the other side of y/n.

"hi shoto! it's so cold- come closer you're like a heater!"

y/n pulled todoroki's arm in closer to her, wedging herself into todoroki's arm while also still holding onto bakugou's arm.

"we were doing just fine before you came over here, thanks."

bakugou said with a twitching eye, his previously relaxed hand turning into a tight fist as y/n closed her eyes to try and distract herself from the cold conditions.

"maybe you could use some more work, bakugou."

"think you need it more, half-and-half."

-

the bell rang as everyone started to stretch and stand, or stand and stretch. y/n leaned back in her chair after the bell rang, her wings tensing up in a way that bakugou hadn't seen before.

before bakugou could get up to walk out with y/n, a speed of light whipped past him, standing on the spot next to the winged girl.

“hi y/n.. do you wanna go now?”

“oh hi izuku!”

‘izuku?’

“yeah, let’s go!”

‘yeah let’s go? since when did she call him izuku?’

bakugou thoughts thundered in his head, a headache forming as he stood up, banging his hands on the table. making the two people infront of him jump in surprise.

“where you going, angel?”

"izuku and i are going to go eat at a new cafe!"

the winged girl had on the prettiest smile that bakugou would admire if he could, forever, but still, the underlying feeling that creeped under his skin, making him narrow his eyes at the two, mostly midoriya.

'she didn't ask me?'

"'kay, do whatever you want."

bakugou grumbled, standing up and walking past the two, but not before shoving his shoulder into midoriya's as he walked past them.

y/n worriedly turned her head towards the blonde boy who left the classroom quickly, sighing when he was out of sight.

"see what i mean?"

"kacchan's always like that, don't worry y/n."

-

todoroki silently listened to the playlist that y/n made for him a few weeks ago, zoning out while walking home.

him and bakugou had never established the situation with y/n, instead staring each other down whenever the other was too close to y/n, the 'competition' between the two of them just thickening even more.

todoroki looked up from the ground to press the button to cross the street, waiting for the light to turn green. looking up, he saw the new cafe that y/n had been rambling about for the past few days. todoroki asked her if she wanted to go with him, but she said that she was going to be busy for the next few days, so her answer was no.

you wouldn't know how weird he felt when he saw midoriya and y/n in the window seat of the same cafe, talking with each other as sweet foods were settled between them on the table.

todoroki squinted his eyes at them, not believing them as he crossed the road quickly, getting closer and closer which made him realise that it was infact, midoriya and y/n- quickly moving out of their sight but he was still able to see the two together.

he was on y/n's side, not being able to see her face as her head bobbed down, her hands on the table as midoriya put one of his hands on hers, his thumb rubbing against her hand slowly.

that was what todoroki saw, before he walked away quickly, blinking rapidly as he felt a weird stinging feeling in his eyes. something blurred his vision, and before todoroki knew it, wet tears rolled down his cheeks as he quickly wiped them away.

he never felt like this for anyone. so why should he give the feeling up for his friend?

-

for the next few weeks, midoriya and y/n continued to hang out, mysteriously disappearing together as todoroki and bakugou caught onto the two of them, but never voiced out their proper opinion.

-

"team battles!"

all might exclaimed excitedly, his hands on his hips as chatter filled the group of students that were huddled together.

"not again.."

"what? i thought you liked it last time."

"last time?"

y/n questioned, her head turning to the two guys on her right, sero and kaminari who turned to her.

"near the start of first year, we did this exercise."

"it was sooo boring though, me and jirou got beat in 3 seconds.."

"'cuz yaomomo is super smart, dingus."

jirou hit kaminari on the back of the head as he yelped, y/n and sero laughing as jirou tugged on y/n's hero costume, pulling her away.

"here are the teams!"

the two girls looked up at the screen, the partners being randomised on the spot as people's jaw dropped at the sight.

"hero team midoriya and l/n versus villain team bakugou and todoroki?"

"that sounds pretty fair to be honest.."

"but bakugou and todoroki? bakugou's gonna be too proud to do anything with todo-"

"do you wanna die?!"

bakugou yelled at kaminari, holding his collar as y/n patted his back,

"calm down, katsuki.."

y/n then was distracted by midoriya, who was insisting that they should plan out for the match against the two boys.

"okay!"

y/n walked away with midoriya as bakugou had turned, looking at the retreating pair as his jaw tightened.

-

silence was between the two powerful boys, a topic that they were waiting for the other to mention.

"oh my gosh, what's wrong with you?"

bakugou sighed, looking at the half-white half-red haired boy.

"what? nothing's wrong with me."

"cut the bullshit. you know that izuku and y/n have been, hanging out. do you think he likes her?"

bakugou answered the question that lingered on their both of their minds for the past weeks, todoroki clenched his jaw, his head going back as he leaned back into his chair's back rest as he looked up to the ceiling.

"i think so. i see midoriya holding her hand a lot."

"what?!"

bakugou had shot up in fury, his right fist clenched as his eye twitched. todoroki had moved his head back up normally, looking at bakugou.

"mhm."

bakugou breathed heavy, teeth gritting as he stormed out of the room. but then, he stopped before the door frame, without turning his body or his head, but instead opening his mouth.

"you better not make me lose this, not infront of y/n."

an unspoken speech was said between them, as todoroki nodded, standing up and walking behind bakugou.

'midoriya/izuku will not make us lose infront of y/n.'

-

the battle was, uneventful for y/n.

midoriya and y/n had planned out for the two of them to split, bakugou was most likely going to go after midoriya and todoroki was mostly likely going to go after y/n, so they theorised to stay on the outer layer of the building to avoid the two and to get the bomb.

what they didn't think would happen is bakugou and todoroki both going for y/n together.

y/n whined as the cloth covered her mouth, struggling in the hold that bound her which was the ropes, being placed against the wall as bakugou looked down the hall and at the two while todoroki tied her up.

"sorry y/n, this is to prevent you and midoriya working together to make it easier for me and bakugou."

"hey idiot, don't tell her our plan."

"you be quiet."

"watch your mouth!"

todoroki secured the rope around her arms tightly, tugging on it to see if it would fall, but y/n's whines were starting to fill his ears as he looked up at the girl, tugging down the cloth around her mouth.

"since when did you guys get rope? i thought it was only us that got the cuffs.."

"we found it on our floor. let's go bakugou."

todoroki stood up after he patted y/n's cheek, turning his head to bakugou who looked at him, but then his eyes trailing down to y/n who looked up at him.

"shut it icyhot."

bakugou walked towards y/n, crouching down to pull the cloth back over her lips as y/n jokingly glared at bakugou, but then her eyes lightened up as bakugou smiled a tiny bit.

"bye angel."

y/n mumbled gibberish, but bakugou assumed it was 'bye katsuki! bye shoto!'.

temporarily, it did help bakugou, giving him the strength to want to beat midoriya's ass.

-

midoriya ended up in the nurse's office, passed out.

when the match ended and y/n was untied, she quickly shot up, running towards the nurse's office to see midoriya as all might blinked at the girl that was running further and further down the hall.

she opened the door, seeing recovery girl kiss the passed out boy as she had a sigh of relief. she walked slowly towards the chair next to his bed, leaning over him to check his face for injuries, seeing a small cut from probably ice and a burn beginning to form on his arm.

"that bakugou boy is always burning someone."

y/n looked up to recovery girl who was starting to dress midoriya's burn.

"and todoroki and him together? bad matchup for injuries."

"mhm, you could say that again."

y/n leaned back, crossing her arms and closing her eyes in her seat.

"i'll leave you to it, i'll be in my office next door."

"okay recovery girl."

y/n stood up to bow to the teacher who was leaving, collapsing back into the chair once recovery girl left, sighing under her breath as she leaned on the bed midoriya was lying on, rubbing his scarred hand in worry as bakugou bursted into the office, scaring y/n to nearly falling out of her seat.

"omg- oh, hi katsuki."

y/n smiled at him, quickly bringing her hand to herself as bakugou's eyes were too quick, darting between midoriya and y/n's hand.

"i think so. i see midoriya holding her hand a lot."

the old memory made bakugou shake his head in frustration, stomping towards y/n as she held her hands up, slightly worried as she sweatdropped and bakugou caged her between the chair's arm rests, his hands gripping onto the arm rests as he towered over y/n, making her lean back as heat raised in her face.

"what's the deal with you and izuku?"

"izuku?-"

"are you fucking dating? just kiss and get over yourselves."

"WHAT? KISS?"

"yeah kiss! we all know you're dating!"

"why would you think i'm dating izuku, katsuki?"

y/n had a furrow in her brow, blinking up at the blonde boy as he rolled his eyes.

"i saw you holding his hand, just now."

"no you didn't."

"yes i fucking did. icyhot also saw you guys holding hands."

"oh my gosh- where?"

"plenty of fucking times."

-

it was raining at the moment, todoroki walked behind the two of them with an umbrella covering his head. it was the day after he saw the two of them at the cafe together.

y/n caught midoriya's hand as he was falling, pulling him up by the tight grip that she had on his hand. bringing midoriya back up to the umbrella that they were sharing.

the two of them didn't know todoroki was walking behind them, going back to talking out of reach of todoroki's ears.

-

"did you see deku patching up y/n after training today?"

uraraka said, leaning over the table to whisper to tsuyu and todoroki who were on the other side, iida already starting to do his chopping motion.

"it is rude to intrude on other people's business, uraraka!"

"i know! but, they were so open about it.."

"how so?"

todoroki asked, a little intrigued as he gripped onto his chopsticks tighter.

"well, i was exaggerating a bit, but the door for the nurse's office was wide open, and i saw deku like on the floor infront of y/n, wrapping her leg. i thought that it was really cute!"

uraraka grinned as tsuyu nodded along.

"mhm!"

a loud echo of chopsticks breaking were heard as todoroki quickly hid them under a heap of tissues next to his bowl on the tray.

"what was that?"

"idk maybe smth over there"

todoroki had excused himself, getting up and fast walking towards the nurse's office and peeking in to find midoriya sitting criss-cross on the floor while holding onto one of y/n's hands, y/n rambling about something as midoriya stared up at her, listening to every one of her words.

-

the class had a cooking class and they were to be paired up quickly, midoriya had made eye contact straight away with y/n when the teacher said that they could choose their partners, so they were together.

midoriya whisked some cream as y/n continued to flip crepes on the pan. bakugou from the station behind them was watching y/n as her hands moved skilfully. but then, midoriya blocked his view of her hands, bakugou's eyes trailing up from y/n's hands to midoriya feeding y/n.

midoriya held a spoon infront of her lips, a hand underneath the spoon just incase she dropped any as she opened her lips to try the cream. her face was the same for a second, until her eyes lit up as she excitedly hit midoriya.

"that's so good, izuku!"

"thanks y/n!"

"teach me how to make some one day, okay?"

"yeah of course!"

bakugou grumbled under his breath, looking back down to his pan after a bit and flipping the crepe to see the whole circle of batter was black, burnt to a crisp.

"wow, i thought you were a cooking expert."

kaminari said as he came up next to him while whipping cream in a bowl.

"shut the fuck up!"

-

"does any of that shit ring a bell?"

bakugou's eyebrows were in a permanent scowl, y/n blinking up at him, slowly processing his sudden ramble about her and midoriya. shortly after, she broke out in a small laughter, holding her stomach.

"what the h-hell? you guys are so quick to jump to con-clusions!"

y/n held her hands over her mouth in shock and to hide her giggles as bakugou's face became blank, blinking down at the girl as he gritted his teeth.

"hey! stop laughing at me!"

"i'm not laughing at you- it's just-! haha!"

eventually, y/n stopped laughing. smiling as she straightened up in her chair and bakugou had straightened his posture too, crossing his arms over his chest while standing a bit infront of y/n.

"i don't want to have to explain this twice, you know where shoto is?"

"don't know. i'm not his parent."

y/n frowned a bit, then stood up, looking back at midoriya for a second and looking back at bakugou.

"let's go find shoto, please?"

y/n purposefully made her eyes a bit bigger, a pout on her lips as bakugou rolled his eyes, already grabbing her arm and pulling her out of the office.

"let's go find icyhot."

-

they searched for 5 minutes, finding him with one of their classmates.

"shoto! i wanna talk for a sec!"

y/n called out, her hand cupped over her mouth to echo her voice and todoroki quickly whipped his head towards the source of the noise, seeing bakugou's grip on y/n's arm wasn't the most, pleasant thing to see ever.

-

y/n stood infront of two boys who sat on chairs infront of her. one slouching in the chair as the other sat straight with his back onto the chair, you can guess who is who.

"first off, i'm.. sorry that i've been avoiding, you know, it."

y/n suddenly got nervous, she was never nervous, except for the one time that she was sandwiched in between bakugou and todoroki but anyway!

"i didn't want to deal with it at the moment because i didn't know what to say so i just, didn't say anything."

"its okay, sorry if i pressured you at all to say anything."

"we, icyhot."

"whenever i speak for you, you tell me to shut the fuck up."

todoroki turned his head to bakugou as bakugou looked at todoroki with his eyes for a few seconds, then turning his eyes back up at y/n.

"shut up bastard."

"anyway! to explain everything with izuku- he's like my brother."

the two boys blinked up at the girl for a minute, todoroki looking down at the floor, taking this new information.

"huh."

"yeah, he's like a brother to me. and that time you saw us at the cafe, shoto-"

-

"i just, don't know."

y/n sighed, her head going slack as it hung forward, then feeling the soft touch of midoriya's hand on hers, his thumb rubbing her hand.

"i don't wanna mess up my friendship with either of them. i really like the both of them but i, i don't know."

"don't worry. we can wait until you do. i'll wait right next to you until you do."

midoriya smiled tenderly at the girl, as her head perked up at his words and the warm touch of her cup made her feel better.

"will you really?"

"really."

-

"he was helping me out because of you guys, i didn't know what to think so for a bit, we've been talking."

bakugou had stopped slouching, his elbows resting on his bent knees as his head was perked up at her, slightly tilted while listening to her and zoning out, staring at the floor.

todoroki was hanging off of every word that the girl was saying, listening to everything and anything that came out from her lips.

"sooo that's why i wanted to talk to the both of you now. i didn't want to explain it all over again but i just wanted to tell the both of you that, i really do like you- both of you!"

y/n exclaimed quickly, her lips closing shut as she quickly thought of the next words to say.

"and.. i need just a bit more time."

todoroki swallowed a gulp that he didn't know that he had. his eyes darting around the room, not wanting to think of anymore time not being spent with y/n. all time with y/n was precious and he didn't want to waste that.

"so please, let's just act like nothing happened. before this all happened, just for a bit."

silence filled the empty classroom that they were in. y/n kept her head low as she waited for one of the boys of say something, anything. she wondered if she was being selfish, already spending weeks distancing herself because of some feelings that she didn't know how to admit?

"alright."

her head snapped up, looking at the blonde boy as his gruff voice was the one to break the silence. bakugou stood up, shoving his hands in his pockets as he took strides to stand infront of y/n, the feeling of todoroki's eyes on the back of his head as he stopped infront of the winged girl.

"take all the time you need, angel."

y/n's lips trembled as she held in a cry, nodding up at the boy.

"thank you, katsuki."

"yeah i know. icyhot?"

todoroki looked at bakugou, his eyes leaving y/n's face as todoroki had noticed that she looked like she was about to cry.

"are you gonna wait? for her?"

"yes, of course i would."

todoroki answered without hesitation in his system, walking up to them as he held out a tissue for y/n to use for her tears, all the while as he slipped a hand on her lower back, rubbing in circles with his palm.

"i would do anything for y/n."

[stuckybangs]

Thank you to all the participants in this year's reverse bang! We're thrilled to present the incredible 34 collaborations in this round! From the artists, to authors, to betas, pinch hitters and cheerleaders, we thank you all for being a part of this year's bang!

Under the cut you'll find all the collaborations from this year. Enjoy!

Touch Me and You'll Never Be Alone [not rated, wip] art by @metalbvcky written by @hanitrash

Bucky is barely managing to get by on his own, but is proud of the small, safe life he's created for himself. He's even content to thirst in secret over the insanely hot older man that recently moved to the area. But when a popped tire and an early season winter storm combine to throw their paths together, Bucky's carefully constructed life is about to get flipped upside down.

hold my body (hold my breath) [Teen, 2/2, 16k] art by @alwaysabrighterdarkness written by @teenytabris

“You were born in a storm. On a rocking boat, too. Maybe that’s where all this started,” his ma had said, kissing his head and rocking him in her arms. “Demanded to come into the world in an in-between place. Couldn’t wait to get to America,” she joked. Steve didn’t know what that meant, but he did know that even imagining a boat out there, getting tossed by waves, made him feel ill enough that even looking at the rain made him retch weakly. His ma tutted, and pressed a hand to his forehead. -- Steve has always had an all-consuming fear of water, and nearly drowning twice only made it worse. One day, after just turning on a tap sends him spiraling, he has to consider what his breaking point is.

Runaway [Teen, 8/8, 20k] art by @alwaysabrighterdarkness written by @mandyyvibes

Steve still felt a little guilty that Bucky was willing to do all that for him. Did he really deserve his unconditional loyalty? He could’ve picked anyone at school to be best friends with, but he picked him, and Steve would never know how he got so lucky. The thought of running away was comforting, anyway, even if maybe they couldn’t actually leave for a while. Days, weeks, months. — In which Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes grow up together under circumstances that no child should have to face, and Bucky paints Steve daydreams of a better life together, if only they could run far enough.

Finding You With Open Arms [Gen, 1/1, 8.5k] art by @taybay14 written by LuxuryVelvetStudebaker

Coming home means the big things are the little things

Some legends are told [Explicit, 2/2, 26k] art by @rufferto9 and @chaosmanor (additional art) written by @chaosmanor

Twenty-eight billion kilometers. Four thousand years. That's how far Bucky has gone to get away from HYDRA, and that's how far Steve will have to go to bring him home.

The art of shadowboxing [Explicit, wip] art by @burnin-brighter written by @dharmasharks

In 1918, Bucky is forced to flee New York with his family. In 1923, he returns as a prize fighter, determined to send money to his sisters and stay far away from the gang violence that destroyed their home. And then Steve Rogers shows up. These days, Bucky’s childhood pal isn’t facing down neighborhood bullies. He’s taking on every factory owner in the Garment District—and every gangster they hire to intimidate union members. By joining the fray as Steve’s bodyguard, Bucky can finally stand up to the mobsters who took so much from him. And if that means spending a whole lot of time by Steve’s side…well, that’s just an added bonus.

In the Mood to Let You Know [Mature, wip] art by @burnin-brighter written by @voylitscope

Bucky's never liked keeping secrets from Steve, but there are a few things he hasn't told his best friend over the years. These days? There are three. The two new ones he begins keeping in the summer of 1925, and that one massive secret he's been holding onto since 1918. (Or: During the height of the 1918 flu outbreak in New York, a seveneteen-year-old Steve spends a month indoors. Steve and Bucky write letters to pass the time and keep in communication. By the time Steve is out and about again, they've said a few things they'll never say out loud.At least not until 1925, when Bucky can't seem to stop running into Steve in unexpected places. )

Desert Fires [Explicit, 1/1, 9.6k] art by @zanthems written by @buckybarnesdeservestobehappy

Bucky doesn’t plan to end up high and naked in the desert with stars shining in the heavens and his eyes with his dick deep inside a dainty, beautiful man with sparkling sapphire eyes and chapped, bitten lips that drive all coherent thoughts from his mind. He didn’t intend for any of it to happen, but that’s where he’s found himself, nonetheless.

Coffee, Sugar, and Pine [Mature, wip] art by @taybay14 written by @buckybarnesdeservestobehappy

There’s nothing Bucky loves more than his cat Alpine and an excellent cup of coffee. After three tours in the army, he’s probably earned a few breaks and an IV of caffeine. When he steps into a café in Brooklyn where a spunky redhead mans the cash register and a sassy blonde with sparkling blue eyes concocts delicious hot beverages, Bucky realizes he’s found his perfect drink and perhaps his ideal mate. Now, he can’t stop thinking about how to guarantee that he’ll have both for the rest of his life.

Let's Do It [Teen, wip] art by @skullfragments written by @trinitydaydabbles

Even before Steve drags him up before the crack of dawn to go running, Bucky is already plotting his revenge. If only Steve didn't know him so well, maybe the day wouldn't devolve into a game of one-upmanship.

Human Lens [Teen, wip] art by @taybay14 written by @chaossmagic

Torn from his old life and dumped unceremoniously in the 21st century, and then having to face an alien attack just months after coming out of the ice, Steve Rogers is struggling to come to terms with everything he's lost and isn't sure the title of Captain America is one he feels 100% comfortable with anymore. Alone, deeply lonely and desperate for anything to help him feel like his old self again, he stumbles across the work of fellow veteran and photographer Bucky Barnes, who specialises in helping wounded soldiers reclaim their bodily autonomy and sense of self after injury in combat. When he asks Bucky to take his own photograph, he finds the connection he's been looking for the entire time. And, as it just so happens, Bucky finds exactly the same thing.

Taking Pictures [Gen, wip] art by @taybay14 written by @leavinghopeao3

Reporter Steve Rogers and photojournalist Bucky Barnes stumble across a conspiracy at the heart of the United States government. Will they be able to stop it before it's too late? And will this fight bring them closer together?

lost to time [Mature, wip] art by @rufferto9 written by @burnin-brighter

As Steve returns the last Infinity Stone, he realizes there is nothing for him to return to in 2024. His friends, the ones who are still here, have families they want to be with or people they need to help. Steve has no one. Bucky died in 1944, Natasha died on Vormir, Tony perished in the fight with Thanos. What is he supposed to do? There are many options in front of him, though before he can make up his mind, a ghost from his past appears. Could it really be his Bucky?

A Game for Two [Mature, 1/1, 9.9k] art by einahpets written by @dontcallmebree

Steve will never forget the itch under his skin, the need to peel the world back until it finally felt right. He knows he would have gotten it then, would’ve finally latched his teeth around this amorphous, unnamable thing that had been haunting him if it weren’t for the Winter Soldier. If it weren’t for Bucky. And ain’t that a trip and a half—if not for Bucky. Story of his fucking life. The hands of fate are familiar, loving, and too cruel by half.

Til the End of the Line [Teen, 7/7, 14.7k] art by @taybay14 written by @xoxobuckybarnes

Back home after their first tour, the Avengers are getting ready to record their second album - they just have to write it first. Lead singer, Bucky Barnes, struggles to write a song that's not about his childhood best friend, the drummer of the band, Steve Rogers. The problem is, Steve has no idea how Bucky feels about him. When another childhood friend starts leaning on Steve, Bucky must decide if it's time to let his crush go, or to finally be brave and let Steve know how he feels.

Plan Bee [Gen, 1/1, 15k] art by britbrit99 written by @hkandiu

Steve is still getting used to the 21st century and begins to frequent farmers markets, where he becomes a regular customer of Shield Apiary, a small business selling all things honey. As he enters that sweet chapter of his life, Tony decides to take on a new project - finding someone for Steve! Steve lies to the team that he's already dating someone but before he can come clean, Tony reaches the wrong conclusion that Steve is dating one of the owners of Shield. Except, Steve's never met Bucky, much less gone on a date. Becca somehow talks the men into pretending to date to help Steve, and the month isn't what anyone expected...

The Beekeeper & The Gardener [Gen, 10/10, 13k] art by britbrit99 written by E_Greer

Every morning, Bucky likes to greet the dawn and watch morning runner guy. Every morning, Steve likes to sip his coffee and watch plant guy. One morning, runner guy and plant guy meet.

Let Us Partake in Summer’s Bounty [Teen, 1/1, 11.8k] art by britbrit99 written by @theflailing

Spring was one of Steve’s favourite seasons; it was a time of renewal and intention, a time to plant the seeds of things that will yet bear fruit, both literal and metaphorical. It was a time when the chilly grip of winter gave way to the lush green of new growth; it was when the world took its first deep breath and stretched its limbs after the long, somber solitude that preceded it. Although Steve was born in the height of summer, his mother always said that he did not belong there. “I did a reading, the day you were born,” she would tell him often, a soft and loving sparkle in her eyes. “Your heart belongs to the springtime; it is an omen that marks your soul.” -8- Steve is never one to turn down a request for help, and as he prepares to accept this call for aid, he reflects on his life, the friends he has made, and the community he serves.

I'll Use You (As A Focal Point) [Teen, wip] art by @taybay14 written by @lynlee494

The Soldier’s understanding of the world begins to unravel after he completes a mission and finds a helpless, shivering, and soaking wet kitten. Unable to leave, knowing the frail thing will die in the elements, the Soldier makes a choice... The Soldier can not risk contact, capture, and the inevitable return to Hydra and captivity would bring. He may remember Steve Rogers, but he also remembers Captain America. Similarly enhanced, the Captain would have the advantage, the Soldier’s movement would be limited with the kitten’s safety to consider.A surveillance approach is the safest angle to take. There had been notebooks at the museum exhibit, so there may be more memories to be dredged up if Steve Rogers still keeps journals, keepsakes, things that may stir up more memories - more pieces to fill in the expanse between Bucky and the Soldier.He’ll seek out Steve Rogers, who seems to feature in nearly every memory with Bucky, but he’ll be cautious. Can hopefully glean from the exposure more about the time before Bucky – before he – was presumed dead in a war. From before Steve’s Bucky became Hydra’s, time stuttering by till the Soldier was born.

5 Times Bucky Tricked Steve Into Washing His Hair +1 Time He Didn’t Have To Ask [Explicit, 8/8, 34.8k] art by @taybay14 written by @norelationtoatticus

During the worst of his recovery, Steve used to wash Bucky’s hair for him. Now, Bucky is a semi-stable hundred year old man who can bathe all by himself… but he misses Steve washing his hair for him. Asking for it? Out of the question. Lies, subterfuge, and expertly crafted machinations to manipulate Steve’s big, soapy hands right where he wants them? Much more Bucky’s style.

Piece By Piece [not rated, 10/10, 34.7k] art by @skullfragments written by @taybay14

Steve and Bucky are discovered on the bank of the Potomac & brought to Stark Tower. From the beginning, everyone has one thing on their mind: Help Bucky. It’s going to be hard, but they're ready to give it everything they’ve got - and they’re the Avengers, so they’ve got quite a lot. *** “Hey, Buck,” Steve says, his voice soft. Bucky lays on his side, pressing a cheek to the soft carpeting, wishing he hadn’t ruined all his blankets. He hates feeling cold and it’s a little cold in his room. “You don’t have to talk or come out or anything, but… I’m going to lay here, okay? All night. I’m going to stay right here so you don’t forget that it’s different now. So you don't forget that you’re safe. You’re not alone.” Bucky doesn’t know what to say to that. Even if he did know, his tongue is doing that heavy-sticky thing again. Instead, he slides his flesh fingers under the crack in the door, barely able to fit the tips, and waits. A moment passes. Then Steve’s fingers are pressing right back. And maybe Steve is right. Maybe things are different, maybe he is safe, maybe he’s not alone. Maybe - just maybe - he’ll be able to get himself back after all, piece by piece.

Now That I've Met You [Teen, 3/3, 11k] art by @louikazooie written by @megs-bee

First day back from vacation, not even inside the building yet and Bucky’s boss calls, telling him to head straight up to the executive suite. “The short version is that we’ve found ourselves with a VIP who needs a personal assistant immediately,” Pepper sighs. “The longer version is that we discovered the previous assistant was selling information on said VIP’s schedule and other high-security details which resulted in, among other issues, an attempted…let’s call it assault.” Pepper hands over the StarkPad open to what Bucky recognizes as a personnel file. Commander S. G. Rogers. If he’d been drinking his coffee at that moment, he’d have choked.

The Rest Are Stories To Tell [Teen, wip] art by @taybay14 written by @endlesstwanted

After he broke free from HYDRA with Steve and his new friends’ help, Bucky is working on reconnecting with himself living in the Avengers Tower with his cat Alpine. Soon, a dream brings back memories of his time as the Winter Soldier and one specific location in which he supervised experiments like the ones he went through. The team works together to figure out what’s real and puts the pieces together to prepare against a potential hidden thread by HYDRA before they run out of time —or the experiments run out of time. What would happen if, on top of this, Bucky discovered a secret related to Steve and me that would tie them together more than they have ever been?

out of the darkness, out into the light [Mature, wip] art by bergamotene written by @burnin-brighter

There were very few things Bucky disliked in life, although chaperoning his sister at every ball of the season was one of them. It was boring, long, and overall unpleasant. Or it used to be, until the day Bucky laid eyes on the most beautiful man he had ever seen at such an event. The man wasn’t familiar, Bucky would have remembered seeing him before. And after the first night, Bucky saw him everywhere. While he slept, while he daydreamed, while he walked around town. There was no escaping this stranger. And perhaps Bucky did not want to. What was the worst that could happen if Bucky were to let himself give in to his thoughts, to his urges?

Penumbra [not rated, 1/1, 12.7k] art by bergamotene written by @bonky-bornes

There was nothing more dangerous than having a soulmate. That’s what James had been taught his entire life. Being bound to another, life for life, got one killed just as surely as treason. Anyone with the mark of a binding was executed. Kings and peasants alike, it didn’t matter. There was nothing more dangerous than secondary loyalty to your Kingdom. James mastered the art of knives and silence, he learned to move like a shadow, unseen and inescapable. Bondeds were a disease, and he was a cure. He’d rather have his hands stained red than see his people suffer. Bondeds killed to protect one life. James killed to protect them all. - The Northern and Southern Kingdoms have been at war over Bonded Pairs for years. When a temporary armistice is proposed, and James is invited to the Southern Kingdom, it's one last chance to find a way towards peace.

No Better Version of Me [Teen, 3/3, 26.8k] art by @koreanrage written by @film-in-my-soul

Like Steve’s got a shooting star fused to his pulse (and hell, it just might be), he makes a wish. Thanos is stopped from making the snap. But just because Steve managed to save everyone else, it doesn't mean he can save himself.

no years of silence in the shadow of regret [Gen, 1/1, 9.7k] art by @koreanrage written by @hipsterdiva

“I’m fine,” Steve says again without looking at him. “You don’t have to stay.” It takes a while, and for a second, Steve thinks that perhaps Bucky will get up, pack his bag and his cat and leave. For a second, Steve hopes that’s what’s gonna happen. Then Bucky speaks. “I know,” he says. And stays. Or, Steve has baggage, communication is difficult, and (baby) steps are taken.

A Safe Place To Land [Explicit, wip] art by @kahey2804 written by @gloromeien

Bucky Barnes had it all—grease under his fingernails, dog fur behind the cushions of his couch, a cozy place to call his own. The house, the truck, the dogs, the works. A ride-or-die, close-knit community. A patch of land he could wander. A mountain view to inspire him. After six tours of duty and nine months in captivity, Bucky knew how bad things could get, so he didn't dare ask for anything else. Especially not someone to hold. Until a tall, blond super-soldier crash-landed into his quiet life and threatened to make all his dreams come true. For now.

Soul Mates and Circumstances [Explicit, wip] art by @kahey2804 written by @sunriserose1023

It’s a classic story. Boy meets boy, they share an instant connection. They have a night of pure heaven, and then life steps in. That’s the story for Bucky and Steve. They had one great night, then radio silence. Until they manage to cross paths again, but they seem destined to ghost each other. Maybe it’s just not meant to be. But what if it is?

All Along - It Was You [Explicit, 8/8, 34.k] art by @burnin-brighter written by @taybay14

It all started with a suggestion from Natasha - which should have been Steve's first clue that it'd end in trouble. She suggests a BDSM club that allows photostatic veils for anonymity, knowing Steve has growing desires he's been desperate to explore. Of course, she didn't bother to warn him of three very important facts: 1. Bucky Barnes is a member of this club 2. Bucky Barnes is apparently gay 3. Bucky Barnes is a dom Steve is stunned when he comes face to (veiled) face with Bucky Barnes himself his first night at the club. His brain malfunctions. Surely, that's the only reason why he does the incredibly idiotic thing of accepting Bucky's invitation to play with him. He knows he shouldn't - but what will one night of lies hurt? One night to scratch the itch, to get Bucky Barnes out of his system once and for all, and then Steve can move on. Except when Bucky keeps giving him chances for more, Steve finds himself unable to walk away. Like Steve said before... trouble. Unfortunately for him, he's always been a magnet for that kind of thing.

Complicate this world you've wrapped for me (I'm acquainted with your suffering) [Explicit, wip] art by LadyGigi written by @hanitrash

The Captain is sent on a mission to prove his ability to perform without the assistance of a STRIKE team. What he doesn’t know is that it’s more than his competence being tested…because if he passes, the face of HYDRA—and the fate of the world—will be forever changed.

Stephanos of the Glade [Explicit, 9/9, 22.6k] art by @murkycrush written by @wolfiefics

Escaped gladiator slave Iacomus discovers a new path in life as a guardian of a mysterious glade and it's equally godlike inhabitor, Stephanos, the river god of the Aneine River. With Stephanos' intercession, he learns to live a life outside of slavery with the help of Artemis, Ares, Demeter, and many other Greek/Roman gods. He finds his purpose in helping Stephanos protect the river from one who would cause it harm. Possibly to the death.

Covert Display [Explicit, 1/1, 8k] art by @murkycrush written by @buckybarnesdeservestobehappy

For decades, Bucky suffered, but he’s finally back with Steve, completing missions together, and going home to a shared apartment. Despite their past, nothing’s happened between them since waking up in the twenty-first century. Until it does. Bucky just never intended for anyone else to see.

I Wanna Break a Sweat, Eating Your Juicy Cake [Explicit, 1/1, 13.4k] art by @mxaether written by @theflailing

When Bucky finally has some time off work, he books a flight to DC to visit his best friend and old college roommate, Sam. While there, Bucky decides that he needs to blow off some steam, and a Grindr hookup is exactly the thing that will scratch that itch. When the hottest guy on the planet starts sexting him, Bucky can't believe his luck. But the universe has more in store for Bucky than he ever could have hoped for, and with the luck that he's about to have, maybe he should buy a lottery ticket, because it feels like all of his dreams are coming true.

Thank you again to all the participants this year!

[izzystizzys]

There are outsiders inside the Guard headquarters - capital O Outsiders, in Thorn’s mind, whose palms are growing sweaty inside his gloves. There’s a crackle of static across his HUD which temporarily blurs the bright orange markings across Commander Cody’s armour in front of his eyes, and he wonders a little faintly if making a break for it would be worth it.

Maybe if he kicked the Commander in the shin. Emotionally, if not realistically.

General Kenobi hums deeply into his mysterious Jedi beard, and Thorn abandons that line of thinking. It would just mean leaving Thire in charge anyways, a thought he shudders at. Fox has been gone for only eight hours and twelve minutes, and already Thorn wants to spend the rest of his life in the scream closet. He has considerably more empathy for the Marshall Commanders refusal to keep to anything approximating an existent sleep schedule all of a sudden.

“This is a very strange turn of events”, the General remarks, for the seventh time that hour. He’s been hm-ing and ah-ing his entire trip through HQ, making that line of tension threatening to snap Thorn’s spine draw up tighter each time. He’s going to give Stabby a nervous breakdown, at this rate. “As I understand it, Marshall Commander Fox was considered rather severe to the point of disproportionality in his consciousness of duty.” General Kenobi’s face does something very strange. “Even considering the evidence and facts, I cannot picture him assassinating the Chancellor and kidnapping a Senator.”

Thorn can, actually, a thought he doesn’t voice. Assassinating the Chancellor, that is. A good number of the Guard can picture themselves doing exactly that, and Stabby needs to be physically restrained from doing it on a regular basis. He also cannot picture Fox kidnapping a Senator, though, especially that one.

Which is why this stinks to high heaven.

“General”, Cody breaks the awkward silence Kenobi was evidently waiting for Thorn to fill, “Fox didn’t kill the Chancellor - he couldn’t have. He would never -“ The 212th’s wonder boy pauses briefly, searching for something to say that conveys more gravitas than trust me, I just know. Evidently, he doesn’t find it, because he finishes lamely on, “- he just wouldn’t.”

Shows you how much you know, ori’vod, Thorn thinks acidly, with all the pent-up rage of two years’ time watching Fox silently break apart at the seams.

“We will get to the bottom of this, Cody”, Kenobi says soothingly, with the hope for someone who hasn’t been chewed up and spit back out but Coruscant. “I promise, the Jedi are doing-“

A loud banging noise drowns out the rest of Kenobi’s sentence, and then promptly cuts off the rest when part of the ceiling suddenly caves in with extreme prejudice - no, Thorn realizes, that’s the air vent being launched at the ground followed by a dark, blurry shape of long dreads and sandy Jedi robe. Heartbeat thundering in his throat, Thorn barely stops himself in time from unloading his blasters into the stranger and is only slightly comforted by Cody’s equally drawn blaster. Only Kenobi is unimpressed by the turn of events, Jedi space-spidey-senses and all.

“- everything we can”, he finishes dryly, flicking a speck of dust off his fellow Jedi. “Commander Thorn, meet Quinlan Vos. Quinlan-“

“Yes, yes, good morning or afternoon, whatever”, the Jedi - Vos - intercepts. Thorn doesn’t point out that it’s advanced evening dipping into the night-cycle, because it might make him lose his shit for good. “We have a problem, Obes. There’s some creepy shit going on here - Force, all of you need therapy.” That last bit is aimed at Thorn, he’s pretty sure. The furrowed brow definitely is. “And some heavy-duty medical assistance, I’m pretty sure. What the kriff is up with that?”

Kenobi’s eyebrows are steadily inching towards his hairline, and beneath the bucket and general assholery Thorn is sure Cody’s are doing the same. He’s rescued by a sudden chime from the Commander’s com signalling a priority level one message, and Wolffe’s grey armour that pops up.

“Kote, thank kriff I caught you - there’s some seriously weird stuff in the Chancellor’s office, the General said to get Kenobi over here as fast as possible. No sign of Fox, but-“

Which is when Vos decides to pipe up by throwing a comlink at Kenobi that makes Thorn’s chest grow cold with panic, because it should be locked behind several bomb- and thief-proof doors deep in the lower levels. “Right, I might be able to help with that!”

Which is when, to Thorn’s growing horror, the comlink lights up and all he can do is watch numbly as Fox’s voice crackles through.

“-kriffing Sithspit is going on, Thorn, you can’t just send out distress signals and then not answer, was your growth tube kriffing dropped or -“

A loud, familiar wailing sound interrupts Fox in his rant, just as it was starting to get good. Thorn wants to bang his head into the wall. Thorn wants many things.

“MEESA NO MEAN TO IMPALE THE CHANCELLOR ONSA PEN, MEESA SORRY!”

[bananayuyu]

Hopeless Desire - Part 2

Pairing: Yunho x f reader

Genre: smut, fluff, angst

Word count: 9.6k

Summary: You were Mingi's younger sister by six years, and had a crush on his best friend Yunho since you were nine. You harbored this crush for years, never thinking it would go anywhere. Little did you know, Yunho had recently started to feel the same. But you're his best friend's little sister, so what can he do?

Chapter Summary: Mingi finally finds out, not in the way you intended.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, fingering, use of a vibrator, oral (both m and f receiving), some throat fucking, some pet names, more vague mentions of toxic family dynamics, more vague mentions of Mingi having mental health issues, pls lmk if I missed anything!

A/n: Thank you all so much for the feedback on part 1! It means the world to me. This is my first fic that I'm publishing publicly so I am so grateful. I hope you all enjoy <3

All three of you were frozen. Yunho fixed you with a sharp gaze, still clearly confused at your presence. But now you noticed it was changing, his eyes narrowing and head tilting every so slightly in an obvious sign of anger or frustration. You still sat in your chair unmoving; you couldn't help but notice the way his gaze was affecting your body, the way your arms were tingling and your lower stomach fluttering. Anxiety and excitement can feel shockingly similar, sometimes. You couldn't tell which you were feeling.

"Yunho, I-" you begin to explain yourself, but Mingi cuts you off in anger.

"No no, tell me what the hell is going on first," he says, shockingly stern and strong coming from him. The only time Mingi is ever stern is when he's protecting you, or thinks he is. You realize now what he thinks happened, that Yunho has upset or offended or hurt you in some way. He must think Yunho took a joke to far, or, or...

"Mingi, just-" but he cuts you off again, making you feel patronized.

"I thought when you started talking to me earlier that you were finally gonna admit that you two had been dating, but now-"

It's your turn to cut him off now. Yunho's as well.

"What?!" you both say in unison, Yunho's gaze now back to Mingi.

"Oh, so you aren't dating?" Mingi says with exasperation.

"Well, not really, not yet," Yunho stumbles. You put your head in your hands and curl up into a ball, seeing this whole conversation crumbling apart in front of you.

"Not yet? What does that mean? You've obviously upset her, what the hell did you do?!" Mingi's voice is rising in volume, unable to keep his anger under control. Mingi doesn't get angry often, but when he does it can consume him in an instant.

"Mingi, let me explain-"

"You probably told her you loved her just to sleep with her or something-"

"Mingi, I haven't slept with her! Calm down!" Yunho has raised his voice now too. At this admission you shoot him a hurt look, not understanding why he'd lie. Just because he hasn't put his dick in you doesn't mean you haven't had sex. You thought he was someone who understood that.

"You haven't?" Mingi asks, seeing the look you gave Yunho.

"Well, not technically-" but Yunho is cut off by Mingi lunging for him, slamming him against his front door and slamming the door shut in the process. The loud bang is awful and makes you jump, hands jumping to your ears a the painful sound. You start to feel panicked, your heart racing much faster now. Mingi has Yunho pinned to the door by his shoulders, but Yunho managed to get an arm up in time to have some leverage against Mingi's own chest. The two struggle against each other, Yunho at a disadvantage being stuck to the wall. Out of the corner of his eye he sees your eyes filling with tears, your hands stuck to the sides of your head. You aren't even looking at them, as if not looking will mean this isn't happening. He knows how much you hate when people fight. It was something that happened with your parents and other members of your family far too often when you were growing up.

"Don't do this shit in front of y/n!" Yunho yells at Mingi. "You're just upsetting her, you have no idea-"

"You just fucking lied to me!" Mingi screams back. "What the fuck does 'not technically' mean?!" He pushes harder into Yunho now, trying to push free the one bit of leverage Yunho has. Both of them are tall but Mingi has obvious strength on Yunho, and you see Yunho's eyes widen in fear and pain, Mingi's superior strength terrifying now that it's turned on him. You see his mind working quickly, trying to formulate a plan. His eyes meet yours and they've changed again, this time begging you for help. He looks away quickly but the message was unmistakeable.

"Mingi!" you call, the momentary distraction giving Yunho just enough time to duck below Mingi's arms and shove his torso away to allow him the space to escape. But Mingi doesn't stay distracted for long and jumps on Yunho again, tackling him to the ground this time. The two tussle and grapple and you look away again, unable to watch as they hurt themselves over this argument. You imagine tomorrow morning, the broken fingers or bruises or damaged furniture that has to be repaired. The explanation of the situation to managers, to the members. You want to yell at them to stop, to not hurt themselves, but you can't bring yourself to. You know it won't put a stop to anything.

"Mingi. Mingi just stop," you finally hear, the sounds of their brawl having died down. You glance over carefully, as if about to look at the scene of a bloody crime. But you're only met with Yunho on top of Mingi, pinning his arms to his chest and not letting him move. Neither one looks injured, at least from where you sit some feet away.

"I'm gonna fucking kill you if you hurt her," Mingi says, still struggling under Yunho, but only half-heartedly, clearly understanding he's stuck.

"Mingi, almost nothing has happened between me and y/n. If you had let us speak earlier you would have heard that."

"So you haven't been dating for like the past year?" Mingi asks, and it sounds genuine.

"No. Did you think we were? And we just hadn't said anything?" Yunho says this like he's hurt by the accusation, but you can also read a bit of guilt in his tone. Because some things have happened, and Mingi still doesn't know.

"We all did," Mingi replies.

"We?"

"The members."

"And none of you ever asked me about it? You just talked about it behind our backs?"

"It's not like we talked about it at length or anything. It was just something we all collectively thought." Mingi pauses a moment and Yunho sighs, clearly upset by this revelation. "You guys are like all over each other all the time when she's over, what were we supposed to think?"

You watch their conversation from you chair still, your anxiety and frustration bubbling over. You decide you can't take it anymore. You get up and walk quickly to the front door, trying to hold in your tears and make no sound. As you open the door they both call your name, but you don't care to turn around now. Stepping into the hallway you let the tears run down your cheeks, slumping down to sit with your back against the wall. You don't sob, you barely make a sound. You just breathe deeply and let the tears flow, letting yourself check out for a bit.

The door opens a few minutes later and Yunho emerges, moving slowly. He closes the door and looks at you for a moment, wanting to hug and kiss you and make your tears go away. He breaths in to steady himself, about to say something. But you speak first.

"I need to talk to my brother," you say. He just nods and moves back inside, knowing you don't want to move. Mingi steps out a few moments later, coming to sit down next to you.

"Yunho told me what's happened," he starts. "Is that what you were going to tell me earlier?"

"Yes, yes it was," you sigh. "I wish I said it sooner, so all that shit didn't happen."

"I'm sorry, but I thought he had hurt you or something. I just..." Mingi is talking self consciously, back to his more normal self.

"You know how much I hate when people fight around me," you say.

"I know." Mingi's heart twinges with guilt. And shame too, because he knows to whom you are really referring when you say 'people.' It's one person in particular, a man that Mingi doesn't want to be like in any way. "You seemed upset though, you looked at him like you were so upset. Are you sure he didn't hurt you?"

"Mingi, the thing he was doing that was upsetting me was how hesitant he was being with me. We both finally figured out we like each other only like days ago. But he still was keeping his distance from me sometimes. When I finally talked to him he said it was because he was worried what you would think, and what the members would think. He said he had to talk to you first. But then I realized I should really be the one to talk to you first. So I came over here to do that. And then I waited, and I waited, cause I was so nervous. I'm sorry this is happening, but no Yunho has not hurt me." You look at him with frustration. "Do you really think he'd do that?" you ask.

"No, but you never know what people are capable of. I have to protect you if I can," he says.

"Mingi, I protect you," you say.

"Too much. You're my younger sister, I should be protecting you more." Tears were forming in Mingi's eyes and neither of you realized, so suddenly tears are streaming down his cheeks. You move over and give him a hug, tears forming in your eyes too. You sit like that for a moment, you both mumbling 'I'm sorry' to each other. The hug is cathartic for you both.

"Mingi, Yunho and I both like each other. Is it gonna be a problem if we date?" you ask. Mingi shakes his head, but you can sense trepidation.

"I just really hope you don't break up and then things are tense between you. I hope you're really considering that possibility."

"Of course we are," you say without hesitation. And then you sit and think for a moment, realizing maybe you haven't. You take the moment to do some reflecting, to just sit and think on it. It hits you suddenly. "I think I've loved him since I was nine," you admit.

Little did you know, Yunho over heard this last part. He was just coming to check on you two and had just put his hand on the door. He paused, warmth swelling in his chest, and turned back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After you reconciled with Mingi the boys had their own talk, also making up. You could tell Mingi was still feeling on edge and you understood he would need time to process the news. But really, it was good news mostly. He thought you both had been hiding this from him for months. In reality, it had only been a few days.

You left the apartment after hugging them both, the emotional turmoil of the evening exhausting you. You still couldn't believe that they actually fought and you feel mad. But you also feel relieved that Mingi finally knew everything. You walked slowly down the hallway, standing patiently at the elevator door.

Then Yunho was jogging down the hall, seeing the elevator open and determining he could make it. At the last moment he snuck in surprising you, a little out of breath. Suddenly the two of you were in this small isolated space, and the air felt electric. You remembered now how he looked when he looked mad, how your insides churned when he stuck his glare on you. You look at him now, his face serene, like usual. You loved how sweet he was. But you also liked that angry side, too. You feel so embarrassed for feeling this way, knowing damn well how destructive and dysfunctional it can be for a man's only show of emotion to be anger. But you couldn't help loving how it looked on him. You wanted him to be angry again, angry at you.

"Are you busy tonight?" he asked, moving over to your side of the elevator to wrap his arms around you.

"Wow, so smooth," you say, rolling your eyes.

"Oh, you've heard that one before? Didn't realize you got around so much," he teased. You lightly hit him in the ribs, knowing how sensitive the area was. You look up at his grimacing face and you laugh, relieved to finally be joking around again. You realize the elevator is almost to ground floor so you pull on his shirt to kiss him, relishing the few moments of privacy you two still have left. As the elevator opens you both part and begin walking out the front doors, keeping a consistent and almost tangible amount of space between you. The tension in the air is severe; you think if someone walked between you they might get electrocuted.

"You never answered my question," you says as you exit the building.

"I have to study tonight," you say, turning to him. "I have important things to do." He rolls his eyes slightly, but you can tell he's a little disappointed. "I'm sorry, I really do have some reading I need to get done tonight. I can't."

"You don't think you'll have any trouble focusing?" he asks, smirking.

"Trouble focusing?" you ask, exaggerating your confusion. "I think I'll be just fine, thank you." You go to give him a quick hug goodbye but instead playfully smack him, earning yet another pinch on your waist. You squeal and turn away, determined not to change your mind. You really should spend some time studying, and you really do feel like you need some alone time. But mostly, you hope that if you wait a few days to see him again that Yunho might be pent up enough to get a little angry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three days passed.

Sometimes life gets really busy for a few days; sometimes responsibilities require your attention 24/7. These days were like that. You had forgotten you had to be at work more days than usual this week, due to the elementary and middle school kids you tutored having their standardized mid-semester exams. For three days after classes you spent nearly your entire evening with them, trying to calm their nerves and help them learn. You liked your job, for the most part. It was why you had stayed for several years. But those three days were a bit trying. Talking down young kids from bouts of anxiety took it out of you.

This all meant that to Yunho, it seemed like you were keeping your distance. He and Mingi had filming for a music video those three days, but whenever he tried to call you didn't answer, and your texts came back slower than usual. The last day he got to come home early but when he asked you to hang out you said you had work. He swore you didn't usually work that day. He thought you were the hesitant one now. He felt a little hurt but also not sure if he was even reading things correctly. He realized he really, really cared what you thought of him. It was a scary realization.

Finally your weekend came and you had a day entirely to yourself. Realistically you hadn't been wanting to keep your distance from him for three days, even if you had thought you'd give it a try. You longed to be spending the evenings with him when you were at work with the worried kids. You worried you were coming off poorly now, like you didn't really care. You kept saying sorry for missing a call or not texting back for hours on end. It was just one of those times. It just happens every once in a while. But finally it was over.

"Y/n," Yunho answers your call. His voice is bright but there's a layer of annoyance in his tone. You'd by lying if you said it didn't excite you a little.

"Hi, are you busy today? I finally have a day off," you say.

"Are you saying you want to hang out with me?"

"Yes, Yunho. Duh."

"Well, I'm just asking cause yesterday you didn't want to."

"What do you mean, I had work!" you say.

"You don't work on Fridays though," he says. He sounds almost hurt, but he's still in a joking mood.

"I had to work extra cause of elementary and middle school exams. They're next week."

"Oh, so you weren't lying then."

"Yunho!" You can't believe he's accusing you of this. "I wouldn't lie and say I had work when I didn't have work, who do you think I am?"

"So you weren't trying to piss me off so I'd come to your house one night and throw rocks at your window or something?"

"Yunho, you're insane," you reply.

"You didn't answer my question," he says.

"I'm not going to."

"Alright, fine," he says. And then, "I'll be over in a minute."

"Okay," you say, and slump back down on your bed, unbelievably excited.

It was early in the afternoon. You had slept in and then eaten a large breakfast, hungry and exhausted from your extremely busy week. You finished a load of laundry you desperately needed to do and managed to clean up your bathroom a little. Finishing these small chores made you feel good. Now you finally had time to do whatever you wanted the rest of the day.

Yunho arrived quickly, not caring if he seemed desperate. He was desperate, desperate to see you and hold you after your three exhausting days. You felt the butterflies as soon as your call ended, and now with him standing in front of you your skin felt on fire. Your knees felt shaky, your heart rate shooting through the roof. You almost felt nauseous from how excited you were. You hoped it didn't seem weird. He stepped in a hugged you, pulling your head to his chest. And then you heard his heart beat and felt it too, how blazingly fast it was beating. You felt the jittering of his nerves, the way his skin felt hot as fire when you brushed a hand over his arm. You squeezed him tighter; it felt like the only way to alleviate your nerves. As you pressed into him you felt how taught his muscles were, how rapid his breathing. Finally, you felt what must be his cock pushing against your hip. Hard already, very hard. Your breath hitched. Your roommates were in the living room setting up a movie, but Tae had just walked in.

"Hey, Yunho, how are you?" Tae asked, kind as ever. You felt Yunho jump slightly at his voice. His eyes had been closed upon realizing just how excited he was to see you. He was mid trying to find a way to calm himself when Tae walked in.

"I'm good, thank you. How have you been?" he asked. Surprisingly steady, you thought. You felt him releasing your hug and moving you away from him slightly, and momentarily you were immensely confused. But then he spun you around and put his arms around your shoulders, still needing your body in front of his to cover a potentially noticeable bulge that was forming in his pants. Tae wouldn't say anything, wouldn't care. You knew that. But he didn't.

"I'm good too, just busy with my thesis. Are you sure you're okay, you look a little pale?" Tae asked, genuinely oblivious to what was happening.

"I honestly just really have to pee," Yunho says with a chuckle, and all of you chuckle with him. "Can I use your bathroom, y/n?"

Clever, you think. Don't know if I would have thought of that.

"No, absolutely not. No peeing in this house," you joke. Yunho sees this as an opportunity as well; he figured you might say something along those lines. He begins tickling you which has you shrieking and running away towards the hallway and saying, "okay, okay", and he sprints after you, able to leave the kitchen in a rush in a way that doesn't appear suspicious.

As soon as you enter your bedroom and close the door, you cannot stop giggling. Yunho goes to tickle you again but you fight back, attempting to tickle him too. It doesn't work very well, given how much longer his arms are. Soon he's grabbed you and hits that spot under your arm that tickles the most, so you collapse to the floor. He supports your weight so you don't fall, but now you're pinned to the ground and totally at his mercy. "Stop, stop" you keep giggling, kicking your feet in an attempt to hit him where it hurts most. "Yunhooooo" you finally whine, the giggles subsiding, and he knows you're truly done. He used to tickle you a lot more when you were little, after Mingi revealed how much it made you laugh. He hadn't done it in a while, not like that. A flash of nostalgia hits him, realizing how much time has passed. How he missed those days sometimes, before there was so much pressure. When you were little he could baby you and take care of you however much he wanted when you were together. Now he stares down at a full grown adult, and the thought of his own age hits him. How much time has passed. He longs for the old times again, sometimes. When you were only ten and sweet as can be. Growing up, dealing with your family, it had changed you some. It hurt him to think of all that weighed on you, all the responsibility you took on so young. He sometimes wished he could go back.

But then there were times like this when he was so glad for the change. He had probably liked you longer than he ever would admit to anyone, given your age. He never really considered the truth of it a few years ago, because of how shameful it felt to like someone so young. It wasn't like he ever felt that way about other high school girls, so he told himself his feelings were just born from how much he loved and cared about you. But he couldn't deny it now, looking down at you, his dick still rock hard in his pants and his eyes unable to leave you. He couldn't deny how the print of your nipples through your thin shirt made him salivate, how the curve of your waist into your hips, the curve of your belly was what he thought of each night when he touched himself to sleep. And that cute pout, that pout that made everyone melt a little bit. Now when you turned it on him it just made him want to give you everything, to make you come over and over again.

Just as he is about to lean down to kiss you, a knock sounds from your door.

"Y/n, that movie you wanted to watch is on Netflix, if you still want to!" Nari says from the hallway. "I'll be in the living room, just let me know, no pressure." She walks away, not wanting to disturb you two.

Yunho leans down again, in an instant having forgotten what Nari said. But then you remember your thoughts from three days ago, about maybe pissing Yunho off, just a little.

"We should watch it, it's really good," you say. All you get is a 'hmm' in response. Yunho kisses you now, slow and sensual and like he wants to do more. You can tell where it's headed, and your pussy isn't opposed. But you want to see if you can resist, just this once. "Yunho," you say. He looks at you, eyes almost glazed over with lust. This is gonna be a hard sell, you think. So you give him that pout. You haven't used it intentionally in a while, but you used to all the time when you were kids. To get him to buy you ice cream, or get him to make a phone call for you that you were dreading. Even once to talk to a teacher for you. It was always effective then.

And it's effective now, too. Of course it is.

"What?" he asks, pulled back slightly, just wanting to give you whatever you want.

"I wanna watch the movie, I'm sorry," you say.

"No no, no apologizing. We will do whatever you want," he says. "I'm sorry for jumping on you. I just couldn't resist." You start giggling again.

"It's okay, I liked it," you say.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The movie is so good that you are at times distracted from the ever present bulge you can feel pressing against your ass. With Yunho's arms wrapped around you, you feel almost sleepy, so unbelievably comfortable. Maybe this extreme sense of comfort made you act so bratty. You weren't really sure where it came from. When Yunho offered you popcorn you refused, asking instead if you could have the corn chips you kept in the kitchen pantry. When Yunho told you the way you were sitting was putting his leg to sleep you whined and complained about having to move. Then when he relaxed his arms away, worried he was overwhelming you by holding you so close, you forcefully grabbed them and put them around you again. By the time the movie ended he was fairly lost, not sure why you were acting that way. He was pretty sure you didn't even like corn chips.

The two of you made your way back to your room, Yunho walking slowly in trepidation. He really, really wasn't sure. He felt like there was something you weren't telling him. Maybe she just needs a little more time, he thought.

"Do you want me to get going?" he asked you.

"What?" you asked in return, wide-eyed.

"You seem, I don't know," he stops himself. "You like corn chips now?" He feels it's a reasonable question to ask. You try to keep a smile from forming on your face. You should have known how easily he'd see through you.

"Yeah," you say, awkwardly. You don't know what else to say.

"You didn't even eat any after I went and got them for you," he says.

You stand silently, not sure where to go from here. Usually playing around and messing with him feels so fun. But this is feeling a little weird now. It wasn't authentic, and he knows it. You start to feel a bit bad, and think you should just tell him what you want. But that feels daunting too. You just stare at him, unable to speak, unsure of what to say.

Yunho moves closer to you, seeing that pout forming again, seeing your brain work overtime. He runs a hand through your hair and settles his hand at the nape of your neck. He stares deeply into your eyes, capturing the entirety of your attention. In a low voice, he speaks deliberately.

"Baby, what do you want?"

You blush at his words and smile, closing your eyes to savor the way his voice sounds. You feel an intoxicating mix of guilt and excitement bubbling in your stomach, but you can't bring yourself to speak. Your throat is tight and all you can do is let out a whine.

"Use your words. Tell me."

It feels like he is commanding you now. You feel like you might lift off the ground, like he is made of magic and could make you levitate if he wanted to. Your throat suddenly lets you speak, lets you get enough of a breath to get it out.

"I want you to do whatever you want to me," you say, your voice barely audible. But Yunho holds onto every syllable, like you've yelled it at him through a megaphone. He pulls your face up to his, his lips devouring yours, leaving nearly no room for you to breathe. He's grabbing you intensely, a hand firmly set on one of your ass cheeks and grabbing roughly at it.

"Do you want me mad, is that it?" he asks, his voice still low and even. He doesn't feel out of control by any means, but you can tell you've elicited some pent up frustration. All you do is giggle, so happy that your plan has worked.

"Get on your bed, and take off your clothes," he commands, not wanting to wait any longer. He's had this idea since he was here last; at that time it felt like something he should approach slowly, and ask you first. But now he realizes it's probably the sort of thing you want. After pulling off his shirt and pants he makes his way for your bedside table. As you remove your panties you see him opening the top drawer, pulling out a small pink wand that you have stashed there. Your heart nearly drops at the sight of it, the way it looks almost small in his hand, the way he so confidently went for it.

"Yunho!" you say, in shock. "How..."

"I accidentally saw it last time I was here, baby. I can't stop thinking about you using it on yourself. You probably use it every night don't you? When I'm not here to make you come?"

Your blushing again but this time you look rather embarrassed, your arms wrapped around your chest to cover yourself. Still, you undressed as he said. It's as if you can't disobey him in this state. You've never felt like this before with anyone. Like you don't have a care in the world, like your brain has turned off almost entirely except for the parts necessary for survival. Like you know Yunho will take care of you, no matter what happens.

Yunho can sense this shift in your mind, but sees you covering yourself and has to check.

"Are you okay?" he asks, almost sternly. You know it's because he needs to know, for his own sanity.

"Please don't stop," you say as you nod, voice breathy and needy, arms still covering yourself. Your waiting for him to say it, waiting, waiting-

"Stop covering yourself." Finally. You take your arms down, almost presenting your chest to him. His breath hitches slightly, but you can't see it. His face remains neutral; he feels oddly at home being in control of you like this.

"Lay down," he says. Then, "spread your legs, let me see you." He moves down to you, hands running up and down your legs. But his eyes won't leave your pussy. He moves his face closer, now kissing and biting into your inner thighs, relishing how soft they feel against his cheek. Now he can smell you slightly, the sweet and musky scent making him feel almost drunk. He wasn't planning on it but he can't resist, and moves his face down to get a taste of you. He moves his tongue up your pussy slowly, savoring the warmth and sweetness. He settles himself down and wraps his hands around your thighs and you can't stop staring at his hands, long and veiny in the heat of the room. He licks you slowly again, then settles at the top, brushing gentle circles over your clit. Your body reacts instantly, your back arching and your head falling back, your legs moving in and surrounding his head. He can tell your clit is really sensitive, and doesn't want to overwhelm you at first. He pulls back and licks even more gently, slowly pushing your legs back down so you are completely spread for him. You feel his warm tongue stroking back and forth, his gentle movements causing such intense feelings. You sigh and relax into the feeling, your eyes closed and mind on another planet. It takes a little while for your body to completely give in and Yunho can tell, but he doesn't mind taking the time. He likes the idea that this might take a while. He could spend hours between your legs, tasting you and making you moan.

Suddenly you feel close, each stroke of his tongue sending sparks through you, and then you're coming undone, your whole body feeling warm and tingly. Yunho's tongue is unrelenting and soon feels like too much, so you grab onto his hair and pull at him slightly. He pulls up his face and you see his lips glistening with your slick, his eyes dark as they meet yours. He moves up to kiss you, wanting you to taste yourself. The kiss is sweet but intense, Yunho grabbing onto your waist to hold you as close to him as he can.

"I'm sorry I took forever," you say between kisses, feeling a little embarrassed.

"Don't ever apologize about that," he says, kissing you again, holding you tight. You know he says it to be kind, but in this context it also feels like another command, so you vow to never do it again.

Yunho rises, moving down and spreading your legs again to see you, see how puffy and pink your pussy looks. It makes him salivate and he wants to dive back in immediately, but then he remembers his original plan and grabs the wand he had dropped on your bed. He moves down between your legs again, then slowly strokes his fingers through your slit, careful not to shock you with his touch. "Relax, baby," he says in a whisper, the depth of his voice reaching into your bones. You do as he says and open your eyes, smiling at him as he starts to stroke you again, covering his fingers in your slick and then moving them down into position. He slowly pushes two into you, and after a few slow strokes adds a third. You feel yourself stretch a bit to accommodate the added finger, the feeling only briefly painful and then entirely perfect. Your head is thrown back again and this time you wish you could open your legs even wider, wish you could take more of him. He starts pumping in and out of you consistently, waiting until you start opening up even more. Once he feels your walls relax just that little bit more he picks up the wand, turning it on to its lowest setting. You inhale sharply, nervous at how intense it will feel. "It's okay," he says. "We'll stop if it doesn't feel good." But your anxiety was for nothing; as he presses the wand down onto your clit you feel immediate white hot pleasure, the feeling more intense that you've ever known. With both his fingers inside you and the wand on your clit your orgasm builds quickly; as you feel yourself about fall over the edge it builds even more, and then it happens a second time. You feel like your pussy is on fire, like you are a dam about to break. "Yunho, yunho," you squeak out, your brain having completely left you, but something in you wanting him to know how good he's making you feel. But he can tell anyway, from the way your squirm and open yourself even wider for him, by the sounds you are making. You come hard, your eyes rolling back and legs shaking uncontrollably. A bit of droll leaks out of your mouth onto your pillow without you noticing, the feelings enveloping you too intense for you to register literally anything else. A small and quick burst of fluid leaves your pussy and covers Yunho's arm. "Good girl," he says earnestly, sure he just made you squirt.

When you finally come down from your high you can't stop talking. You crawl over to him and wrap around him, feeling suddenly so excited. "That felt so good," you say, nuzzling your head into his neck. "I've never come that hard ever, I don't think."

"Good," Yunho says, placing a satisfied kiss on your temple. "I want you to feel good." You smile up at him, scrunching up your face in happiness.

"You always make me feel good, even when we're just hanging out," you say. Yunho wraps you up in his arms, his heart not able to handle your sweetness.

"You're too sweet for this world," he says. You nuzzle into his chest at his words, so happy to be praised.

You settle into a comfortable silence for a few moments, your breathing finally returned to normal. You hug Yunho, feeling his breaths rising and falling. And then he breathes in like he's about to say something.

"I want to make you come again," he says.

"I don't know if I can, after that..." you trail off, quietly laughing at yourself.

"I think you can," he says, a mischievous smile on his lips. "Get on your hands and knees."

You do as he says, arranging yourself near the top of your bed to give him room behind you. You arch your back and stick your butt out towards him, and when he taps on one of your knees you spread them apart further. "Good girl," he says again, and you can feel your pussy clench, your wetness feeling cool against the air. He slowly enters his three fingers into you again, your pussy now so wet that they slide in easily. At this angle he can reach so deeply inside you, and it feels like his fingers might be feet long. You feel his movements in your whole abdomen and it's intoxicating, and suddenly you really wish it was his cock inside you, reaching deeper than even his fingers can, splitting you open with forceful thrusts. He reaches towards your shoulders to push them down, flattening your chest and face against your bed with your ass still in the air. Once he has you exactly where he wants you he goes for the wand again, this time switching it onto a slightly higher setting, determined to make you come again. As soon as it makes contact you are again met with white hot pleasure, the intensity of it still surprising you, the multiple points of stimulation making you feel small and submissive. He increases the intensity of his fingers, pumping them into you faster and putting even more pressure on that spot you love so much. Soon you are screaming into your pillow, and Yunho is thankful you are coving your mouth yourself. He would, if he had a free hand to do so. Soon he feels your pussy twitching around his fingers, and then you are clamping down on him so hard, your legs shaking so hard and your body slumping down slowly, unable to hold itself up in your challenging position anymore. Yunho slowly removes the wand and turns it off, then slowly removes his fingers, licking them to again savor the taste of you. You lay slumped in an almost concerning way, so Yunho leans over and moves your hair out of your face to see a blissful smile and blush red cheeks.

He moves to the bathroom to grab a washcloth, coming back to wipe of your thighs and ass and make you feel clean. His movements feel so comforting, you wish you could live in this moment forever. Once he finishes he goes back to wash off his own hands. You flip yourself over, grabbing your favorite plushy and trying to collect yourself. Sweat has stuck your hair to your forehead and cheek, and you feel like you must look ridiculous. You're still a shaking mess lying naked on your bed, your chest rising and falling in rapid breaths. As he exits your bathroom you look over at Yunho in just his boxers and see how hard he is, his considerable length highly visible. All this time he pleasured you, never asking for anything in return. But you wanted him to. You wanted him to use you, however he pleased. He had given you too much not to get something in return.

"Please, can I suck your cock?" you ask him, the words coming out more as begging than you intended. Yunho is caught off guard, his hand running through his hair halting, his eyes meeting yours.

"Baby.." he trails off, the image of your beautiful lips wrapped around him sending sparks through him. He's deliberately held off seeking his own pleasure from you. He's deliberately avoided getting his dick involved. He doesn't know why, really, but he holds it over himself like some sort of rule. Maybe it's a slight punishment. Maybe he doesn't want to scare you. He's bigger than average and doesn't ever want to hurt you, just because you are so eager.

"Please," you say again, more exasperated. "Please Yunho, I really want to. But only if you want to, of course."

Your words have him questioning his own rule. He realizes his own worry, his own nature of holding back. Why should he with you?

"Okay, come here," he says, helping you sit up and then move off your bed, bringing you over to your bedroom door and sitting you on your knees with your back supported. He's brushing hair out of your face and then leaning down to kiss you again, wanting you to know how much he cares. How he worries. How he needs you to be alright for his own peace of mind. As soon as he pulls away you are reaching for his boxers, pulling them down and watching as his cock springs free, the length and girth of it taking you by surprise. You knew he was big, you could tell from looking at his crotch more times than you were proud of. But seeing it up close was something different. You feel your pussy clench around nothing, your body craving to be filled.

You lean forward and lick his tip, grabbing the base of his shaft with your hand to help guide you. You wrap your lips around it and suck, gently at first and then harder, a feeling of pride swelling in you as you hear him lowly groan. Yunho can't believe this is happening, can't believe he is finally getting to feel the warmth of your sweet mouth on his cock. He is rock hard now, desperate for the pleasure and release he had given you over and over again. You pop your mouth off to lick a stripe up the base of his shaft, coming up to the bottom of his head and tasting the saltiness of a bead of precum that had escaped him. You now settle into a rhythm, moving you mouth as far down on him as you can so he's covered in your spit, using your hand and mouth in tandem to illicit as much pleasure as you can. Yunho is holding himself up by the door behind you, desperately wanting to fuck your mouth, the feeling of your hot tongue on him like nothing he's ever experienced. His right hand comes down to brush your hair out of your face again, so he can see everything, your mouth stuffed full of him and your eyes fluttering open and shut as you bob your head back and forth.

Yunho can't help himself, the pleasure is too great, and suddenly he finds himself thrusting slightly, the tip of his cock grazing the back of your throat and causing you to gag. He's alarmed at his own aggression and pulls back, expecting you to be alarmed too. But instead you pop off of him, and with lust filled eyes look up. "You can fuck my mouth if you want, you know. I'd really like that," you say, in lustful sincerity. Your voice when you're fucked-out is quiet but assured, your mind focused on one thing only. It makes Yunho feel like he could come on the spot. He runs a thumb across your lips and cheeks. "Baby, are you sure?" he asks. You nod. "I promise I'll be very gentle," he says, moving his cock towards your lips again. "You don't have to be," you say right before it enters your mouth again. Your words make Yunho's head spin, and he shakes his head involuntarily, out of disbelief.

He enters your mouth slowly, his large hand holding the back of your head to support you. He starts with shallow thrusts, feeling the warmth and wetness of your tongue along the underside of him, the feeling blissful and enthralling. You are looking up at him, eyes wide and full of excitement, your mind barely able to comprehend that this is really happening. You have imagined this moment many, many times. He thrusts become slightly deeper, his tip reaching almost to the back of your throat now. You breathe through your nose, keeping your mouth as open for him as you can. Finally he hits the back of your throat and moans, causing you to gag and a single tear to form in your left eye. "You okay?" he asks gently, pulling back slightly to let you recover. But you don't want him to stop so you suck on his tip and nod your head up and down, still making eye contact with him. His head falls back at the sight, you nodding at him with his cock still in your mouth. You move forward and gag yourself on him, then lean back slightly and look at look at him with pleading eyes. He takes the hint, moving forward again and finally fucking your mouth in earnest. His thrusts are controlled and deliberate, their speed picking up slowly and consistently. He loves the warmth of your mouth, the tightness of your throat squeezing his tip, the feeling better than anything he could have imagined. He was already so wound up from making you come so much, he's not going to last long. You can feel it, can sense in the way his breathing changes and his body changes, like he's filling with pressure and it needs to be released. Suddenly he's pulling out of you and coming on your face, your open mouth catching some of it. You savor the taste and swallow, licking your lips to find more. He watches the lewd image in front of him and feels like the wind has been knocked from him. And then, as he comes down fully, the feeling like he's done too much hits him.

"Sorry baby, let me go get a towel," he says. You whine, grabbing onto his arm to pull him down, not wanting him to leave just yet. You want him to see the beautiful mess he's made up close. Once he's at eye level you smile, batting your eyes at him. "Oh, so you like that I made a mess of you?" he says, another shake of his head from disbelief. "You are so naughty..." he says, clearly pleased. You giggle and stick your tongue out at him. "You can clean me up now," you say, eyes expectant.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that night the two of you lay in your bed, your head on Yunho's shoulder and your legs intertwined with his. The events of the day had left you both sleepy, the feeling enveloping you quickly after you finished your dinner. After some begging Yunho helped you get ready for bed, helping you brush your teeth and get undressed. You felt so hazy you thought you'd fall asleep as soon as you laid down. But once you were settled under the covers with him your mind started wandering, and you were unable to put a stop to it.

"Can I ask you something?" you ask him.

"Of course," Yunho says, through a yawn.

"You know the day you showed up to Mingi's and I was already there, when we both were gonna tell him about us, were you mad at me?"

"No, I wouldn't say mad," Yunho starts. He sighs. "I was just really confused. I had told you earlier I was going to go talk to him, and I thought you would have told me if you were planning to go tell him before me. I thought I was going to be the one to break it to him, the one to bear the brunt of it. I though it would be best because I'm the one he'd probably be mad it, not you. I felt like you telling him first would make him... even more mad at me, I guess?"

You pause for a moment, guilt sinking into your chest painfully.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was going to tell him," you say. "I was just really focused that day on the fact that I should tell him first. He's my brother, I felt like I should be the one to do it."

"It's okay," he responds, hugging you tighter. "I"m sorry about what happened that day, that wasn't okay."

"It was Mingi's fault," you say.

"It wouldn't have happened if I just told him sooner that I liked you."

"I could have told him earlier too," you say.

"Baby, stop. You don't need to take responsibility for that mess," Yunho says, comfortingly stroking your cheek. He sighs more deeply now, feeling his own twinges of guilt. "I don't say this to make you feel like I think you're immature or irresponsible, but I think you should know how I truly feel. Given your age and your inexperience, I feel like I need to take responsibility here. I should have approached this whole situation with more care. I should have spoken to Mingi about it sooner, even if I was worried it might mess up our friendship. I should have talked to you directly about how I felt, before I let you sleep over and kissed you and..." he trails off, but you know what he meant to say.

"Before you made me come?" you finish for him. "Can you not even say it out loud now?" you ask, giggling.

"I guess not," he says, embarrassment making his cheeks warm.

"Do you feel like you have to be really careful with me, otherwise I might push you away?" you ask.

"I feel like I have to be careful with you because it's the right thing to do," he answers.

"Is that why you haven't put your dick in me yet?" you ask, the darkness of night making it easy for the words to escape you. Yunho sucks in a sudden breath at your words, at how crass and direct you're being.

"Y/n..." he trails off, and you feel the tenseness of his body.

"Sorry, did that make you uncomfortable?"

"I just really wasn't expect that," he says, collecting himself. In truth your directness turns him on, but he feels a sort of shame about it. "To me you are a very pure person, very good-hearted. Not exactly innocent, given all that you've experienced. But I don't want your first time to be rushed or bad. I realize we've already had sex but... I don't know, it's fucking illogical, I know, but I wanted to wait to do that."

"Yunho, I've already had my first time," you admit, thinking back and cringing at remembering Kim Wonsik, the boy you dated for two months during your final year of high school. He certainly didn't take his time when it came to putting his dick in you. It wasn't the worst first-time experience ever; you had heard several horror stories from other girls in your grade. But it wasn't exactly good, either. You hadn't told almost anyone about the relationship, only Mingi after the whole thing was over. It hadn't been something you wanted to share. You knew the news spread quickly through your school, as every little bit of gossip always did. But to tell Yunho or any of the boys felt so daunting. You felt embarrassed by it at the time; you were questioning your sexuality and scared of anyone knowing, anyone asking questions or pressing too hard. You had liked Wonsik, but not really the way you knew you should. You were just tired of never experiencing anything, and when the opportunity presented itself you decided to try. It was over and done with quickly, and Wonsik never spoke to you again. It all felt embarrassingly clunky and messy, in comparison to everything else in your life. Things like that were easy for you to keep from people, especially at that age when you still lived with your parents and only really thought of how quickly you could move out.

"Oh, I didn't realize," Yunho responds, his head spinning a bit. He would be lying if hearing that didn't elicit some feeling of jealousy from him, but he holds himself back from saying anything that would betray that feeling to you. He knows it's a little hypocritical to feel that way, given that he's been with two girls before you.

"I've dated one boy, and one girl," you admit, everything now just spilling out of you. "I hope that's not an issue for you."

"Of course not baby, not at all," he says, pulling you up so you're laying on top of him. You sigh from relief, letting your body completely relax on top of his.

"You've dated before, right?" you ask. You remember a girl from years ago, maybe even from before the boys debuted. You can't remember the timing exactly, but you vaguely remember a panicked Yunho breaking up with her, knowing that in his early years after debuting things just wouldn't be able to work.

"Yes, there was one girl I dated right before we debuted. And then there was a girl like four years ago now. We dated for a year."

"Are you still in contact with her?" you ask, a little shocked at how long the relationship was and the fact that you never heard of her before. Well, Yunho never knew of your two relationships either, you realize.

"No, things became very tense between us. She never even met any of the members, or my family. We were both very busy, and she struggled with me being an idol and how much I travelled and was gone. It went on longer than it should have, and by the time it ended we weren't on very good terms. I think she ended up moving back to Japan after we broke up, cause her family was from there. I'm not really sure, to be honest. But I haven't spoken to her since then."

"That sounds rough," you say, not sure how else to respond.

"I definitely don't want to repeat that again," he says, squeezing you. "Please tell me if I'm making your life harder. I really, really don't want to do that."

"I promise I would if it ever came to that. But you make my life better and always have, I can't foresee that happening," you say.

"It's hard to know what might happen," he says, wanting to get everything out in the open. "I certainly hope it never comes to that. But if it does, you better tell me."

"Okay, I promise," you say, trying hard not to sound as sarcastic. But he conversation was feeling too serious; you couldn't help how the words slipped out, your mind wishing to ease the intensity of things.

"Are you not taking me seriously?" he asks, moving his hands now to your most ticklish spots.

"No no, I am. I promise," you say, giggling into his shoulder and moving our hands to protect yourself.

"There's something else we need to talk about, too," he says.

"What?"

"If you want me to 'do whatever I want to you,' then we need to talk about it. So I can actually keep you safe." You giggle at his immediate change of subject, him repeating your words from earlier.

"What do we need to talk about?"

"I need to know what stuff is off-limits for you, so I can make sure I don't do anything you don't want. Cause I'm sure there really are things you wouldn't like, even if you don't think there are."

"Okay," you say, somewhat stumped. You haven't really thought about it in detail in all honesty. "Can I think about it?"

"Of course, baby," he says. "Oh, is it okay that I call you baby?"

"Yeah, I like it," you giggle, squirming against him.

"Is there anything else you want me to call you?" You start giggling, too embarrassed to say. "Hmm okay, what about doll?" he asks, and you giggle more. "Okay, what about princess?" you squeak involuntarily, making Yunho laugh. "My princess," he says in a low voice, stroking your hair and making you feel horny all over again. You start rubbing yourself on his thigh, burying your head in his shoulder. You feel a bit shameful about liking these pet names but the shame also feels good, making you feel tingly and warm.

"We need a safe word, too," he says.

"Mmm, let me think," you say, scrunching your face in concentration. "What about... waffles?"

"Waffles?" he repeats, laughing. "Okay, waffles it is."

You both lay quietly for a while, soaking in a processing your conversation, your mind still wandering. You yawn deeply, causing Yunho to yawn too. He plants a kiss on your forehead, now stroking a hand along your back to help put you to sleep. A final thought crosses his mind, something he feels he must say.

"Just so you know, you can always punch or kick me too, if anything I'm doing is hurting you or isn't what you want. If you can't speak for some reason, or you forget to. I want you to do that if you need to."

A tear forms in your eye and falls gently off your cheek onto Yunho's shoulder, and he looks down at you to see another streaming down your face. He reaches over to wipe it off gently, watching your face for any more signs of distress.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"Yes. It's just, no one cares for me as much as you do."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @mingtinysworld @pautiny27 @yoonjikim @ateez-atiny380 @luvleejuyo @soupyjoy @casterole

Love you all <3

[lulublack90]

Prompt 17 - Pic 'n' Mix

@wolfstarmicrofic June 17, word count 706

Previous part First part

Sirius’s sweet supply seemed endless. He’d shown Remus what he’d brought with him after they’d finished their lion bars. He had Snicker bars, bags of Maltesers, more Mars bars, Milkyways, Milkybars, Rolos, M&M’s, the plain ones, the peanut ones and the biscuit ones, Haribo Starmix, Haribo Tangfastics and a fat bag of Pic ’n’ Mix. Remus had drooled over the selection. 

“Wow, your parents must be missing you,” He said dreamily as Sirius passed him a bag of Starmix. He ripped the blue bag open and popped a fired egg into his mouth. 

“Ha! Yeah right,” He shook his head as he laughed quietly. “These are all from Effie Potter. She knows I like a chocolate bar, and she always goes overboard.” Remus felt like there was more that Sirius hadn’t said. 

“So James’s mum sends James with sweets for you?” He asked cautiously, wanting to know why someone would send a boy she wasn’t related to so many branded sweets. 

“I, er, kind of live with James,” Sirius said awkwardly, dragging his fingers through his hair and yelping when one got caught on a tangle. “My parents kicked me out when they found out I liked boys. My little brother still lives there, but if the rumours are true he should be getting disowned any day now. But I doubt it will go that far. They’ll give him an ultimatum and force him to marry a suitable bride as soon as he’s out of school.” Sirius screwed up his face and huffed at the floor. “They need their heir after all,” He said darkly. He stood in silence for a second before he shook his head and plastered a huge smile on his face. “Anyway, enough of the tragic origin story. I live with James, and Effie and Monty are my parents now, and I’ve never been happier.” Remus stood up and wrapped his arms around Sirius, holding him tight. 

“Your real parents sound proper shit. I hope they get chased down the road by angry magpies,” Sirius collapsed into laughter, shaking against Remus. 

“Oh my god, Remus. Thank you, thank you for that image. Oh my god,” He repeated, wiping tears from his eyes. 

The cabin door banged open and James dragged Peter in, who was pressing a clump of cotton wool to his face. 

“I slipped on the dock trying to get the kayak out of the water. Pomfrey says it’s not broken, but I have to sit down quietly and hold this to it until the bleeding stops.” He grumbled as he went and sat on his bed. 

“I swear you’re cursed, Pete,” Sirius said seriously. “I’ve never known anyone who has so many accidents on a regular basis as you. You must have done something awful in a previous life for this level of torment.” Peter stuck his fingers up at Sirius. Sirius gasped at the audacity. “That’s it, you’ll be a fat little worm that can only eat lettuce in your next life now,” Peter stuck his fingers up again and left them there. Remus couldn’t keep the snort that escaped him as he laughed at the pair. James came over and plonked himself on Remus’s bed and helped himself to Remus’s Haribo. 

“Then you must have done something truly terrible to have parents like yours,” James quipped, coming to Peter’s defence. Sirius spun on him, pointing his finger. 

“Hey, I was wrongly accused or else how do you explain me finding you and our parents?”

“He’s got you there, James,” Peter said, his voice slightly muffled by the cotton wool. 

Remus sat back and listened to them tease each other, thinking he must have put up with a lot in his previous life to be this lucky now. He popped another Haribo into his mouth, only realising it was a heart when it hit his tongue. He smiled to himself and threw a gummy bear at the back of Sirius’s head, pointing at an unsuspecting James when he turned around. Sirius launched himself through the air, landing on James and toppling them off Remus’s bed entirely. Remus stretched his legs out fully. This is the life, he thought as he folded his arms behind his head and relaxed.    

[vashti-lives]

Crimes against my person are being committed by a goblin of unknown origin.

[moonlit-orchid]

good evening to everyone except a certain few fucking anons

[theinconveniencing]

😐😐😐😐😐😐😐😐😐

[phantomrose96]

If anyone wants to know why every tech company in the world right now is clamoring for AI like drowned rats scrabbling to board a ship, I decided to make a post to explain what's happening.

(Disclaimer to start: I'm a software engineer who's been employed full time since 2018. I am not a historian nor an overconfident Youtube essayist, so this post is my working knowledge of what I see around me and the logical bridges between pieces.)

Okay anyway. The explanation starts further back than what's going on now. I'm gonna start with the year 2000. The Dot Com Bubble just spectacularly burst. The model of "we get the users first, we learn how to profit off them later" went out in a no-money-having bang (remember this, it will be relevant later). A lot of money was lost. A lot of people ended up out of a job. A lot of startup companies went under. Investors left with a sour taste in their mouth and, in general, investment in the internet stayed pretty cooled for that decade. This was, in my opinion, very good for the internet as it was an era not suffocating under the grip of mega-corporation oligarchs and was, instead, filled with Club Penguin and I Can Haz Cheezburger websites.

Then around the 2010-2012 years, a few things happened. Interest rates got low, and then lower. Facebook got huge. The iPhone took off. And suddenly there was a huge new potential market of internet users and phone-havers, and the cheap money was available to start backing new tech startup companies trying to hop on this opportunity. Companies like Uber, Netflix, and Amazon either started in this time, or hit their ramp-up in these years by shifting focus to the internet and apps.

Now, every start-up tech company dreaming of being the next big thing has one thing in common: they need to start off by getting themselves massively in debt. Because before you can turn a profit you need to first spend money on employees and spend money on equipment and spend money on data centers and spend money on advertising and spend money on scale and and and

But also, everyone wants to be on the ship for The Next Big Thing that takes off to the moon.

So there is a mutual interest between new tech companies, and venture capitalists who are willing to invest $$$ into said new tech companies. Because if the venture capitalists can identify a prize pig and get in early, that money could come back to them 100-fold or 1,000-fold. In fact it hardly matters if they invest in 10 or 20 total bust projects along the way to find that unicorn.

But also, becoming profitable takes time. And that might mean being in debt for a long long time before that rocket ship takes off to make everyone onboard a gazzilionaire.

But luckily, for tech startup bros and venture capitalists, being in debt in the 2010's was cheap, and it only got cheaper between 2010 and 2020. If people could secure loans for ~3% or 4% annual interest, well then a $100,000 loan only really costs $3,000 of interest a year to keep afloat. And if inflation is higher than that or at least similar, you're still beating the system.

So from 2010 through early 2022, times were good for tech companies. Startups could take off with massive growth, showing massive potential for something, and venture capitalists would throw infinite money at them in the hopes of pegging just one winner who will take off. And supporting the struggling investments or the long-haulers remained pretty cheap to keep funding.

You hear constantly about "Such and such app has 10-bazillion users gained over the last 10 years and has never once been profitable", yet the thing keeps chugging along because the investors backing it aren't stressed about the immediate future, and are still banking on that "eventually" when it learns how to really monetize its users and turn that profit.

The pandemic in 2020 took a magnifying-glass-in-the-sun effect to this, as EVERYTHING was forcibly turned online which pumped a ton of money and workers into tech investment. Simultaneously, money got really REALLY cheap, bottoming out with historic lows for interest rates.

Then the tide changed with the massive inflation that struck late 2021. Because this all-gas no-brakes state of things was also contributing to off-the-rails inflation (along with your standard-fare greedflation and price gouging, given the extremely convenient excuses of pandemic hardships and supply chain issues). The federal reserve whipped out interest rate hikes to try to curb this huge inflation, which is like a fire extinguisher dousing and suffocating your really-cool, actively-on-fire party where everyone else is burning but you're in the pool. And then they did this more, and then more. And the financial climate followed suit. And suddenly money was not cheap anymore, and new loans became expensive, because loans that used to compound at 2% a year are now compounding at 7 or 8% which, in the language of compounding, is a HUGE difference. A $100,000 loan at a 2% interest rate, if not repaid a single cent in 10 years, accrues to $121,899. A $100,000 loan at an 8% interest rate, if not repaid a single cent in 10 years, more than doubles to $215,892.

Now it is scary and risky to throw money at "could eventually be profitable" tech companies. Now investors are watching companies burn through their current funding and, when the companies come back asking for more, investors are tightening their coin purses instead. The bill is coming due. The free money is drying up and companies are under compounding pressure to produce a profit for their waiting investors who are now done waiting.

You get enshittification. You get quality going down and price going up. You get "now that you're a captive audience here, we're forcing ads or we're forcing subscriptions on you." Don't get me wrong, the plan was ALWAYS to monetize the users. It's just that it's come earlier than expected, with way more feet-to-the-fire than these companies were expecting. ESPECIALLY with Wall Street as the other factor in funding (public) companies, where Wall Street exhibits roughly the same temperament as a baby screaming crying upset that it's soiled its own diaper (maybe that's too mean a comparison to babies), and now companies are being put through the wringer for anything LESS than infinite growth that Wall Street demands of them.

Internal to the tech industry, you get MASSIVE wide-spread layoffs. You get an industry that used to be easy to land multiple job offers shriveling up and leaving recent graduates in a desperately awful situation where no company is hiring and the market is flooded with laid-off workers trying to get back on their feet.

Because those coin-purse-clutching investors DO love virtue-signaling efforts from companies that say "See! We're not being frivolous with your money! We only spend on the essentials." And this is true even for MASSIVE, PROFITABLE companies, because those companies' value is based on the Rich Person Feeling Graph (their stock) rather than the literal profit money. A company making a genuine gazillion dollars a year still tears through layoffs and freezes hiring and removes the free batteries from the printer room (totally not speaking from experience, surely) because the investors LOVE when you cut costs and take away employee perks. The "beer on tap, ping pong table in the common area" era of tech is drying up. And we're still unionless.

Never mind that last part.

And then in early 2023, AI (more specifically, Chat-GPT which is OpenAI's Large Language Model creation) tears its way into the tech scene with a meteor's amount of momentum. Here's Microsoft's prize pig, which it invested heavily in and is galivanting around the pig-show with, to the desperate jealousy and rapture of every other tech company and investor wishing it had that pig. And for the first time since the interest rate hikes, investors have dollar signs in their eyes, both venture capital and Wall Street alike. They're willing to restart the hose of money (even with the new risk) because this feels big enough for them to take the risk.

Now all these companies, who were in varying stages of sweating as their bill came due, or wringing their hands as their stock prices tanked, see a single glorious gold-plated rocket up out of here, the likes of which haven't been seen since the free money days. It's their ticket to buy time, and buy investors, and say "see THIS is what will wring money forth, finally, we promise, just let us show you."

To be clear, AI is NOT profitable yet. It's a money-sink. Perhaps a money-black-hole. But everyone in the space is so wowed by it that there is a wide-spread and powerful conviction that it will become profitable and earn its keep. (Let's be real, half of that profit "potential" is the promise of automating away jobs of pesky employees who peskily cost money.) It's a tech-space industrial revolution that will automate away skilled jobs, and getting in on the ground floor is the absolute best thing you can do to get your pie slice's worth.

It's the thing that will win investors back. It's the thing that will get the investment money coming in again (or, get it second-hand if the company can be the PROVIDER of something needed for AI, which other companies with venture-back will pay handsomely for). It's the thing companies are terrified of missing out on, lest it leave them utterly irrelevant in a future where not having AI-integration is like not having a mobile phone app for your company or not having a website.

So I guess to reiterate on my earlier point:

Drowned rats. Swimming to the one ship in sight.

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐘𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐙𝐀 𝐅𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ❞

❝ WHAT HAPPENS WHEN TWO YAKUZA HEIRS ARE FIGHTING OVER WHO GETS TO MARRY YOU ?? ❞

✧ pairing: yakuza!satoru gojo x f!reader x yakuza!suguru geto

✧ summary: you had no patience for the yakuza lifestyle your grandfather had -- you wanted to live a normal life, but when it leaks that your grandfather is in talks to have you engaged to one of two yakuza heirs -- you realize you're in deeper than you thought -- especially when they both fall in love with you.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, fluff, inspired / dialogue / scene concepts taken from the manga “yakuza fiance,” (which the fic is named after), reader's age is ambiguous, but all are 20s+, violence (as expected from mafia / yakuza stories), blood, stsg have tattoos, implied satosugu (just a passing mention of dating briefly), stsg have sadomasochistic tendencies, a little ooc, switch! gojo (very sub gojo), switch! geto, oral (f + m), deepthroating, handjob (m), fingering (f! receiving), double penetration, sex (p in v), creampie, poly relationship implied ending,

✧ wc: 18,476

“I don’t want to marry either of you,” 

And your statement is met with confused stares — and normally stares like this wouldn’t be terrifying to the average person, but these were not average men you were dealing with. 

Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto were anything but average — in many ways. 

Both were incredibly handsome — Satoru was blessed with a piercing blue gaze of the heavens and snow white locks that could stun any person into silence, and Suguru was no slouch either — with long inky black locks tied into a neat bun and his sharp features and his almost all too alluring smile — the two of them looked like they belonged to a modeling agency. Both were also brilliant, attending one of the best high schools in Tokyo, before going to the best university, leading in their respective specialities (Satoru studying physics, while Suguru chose literature). 

And, the two were both the heirs to two of the most dangerous Yakuza families in all of Japan. 

But right now, they are your biggest problems, personified. 

Their families were both vying for your hand in marriage — thanks to your meddling grandfather who shipped you off to Tokyo to get a would-be Yakuza husband — your yakuza family hoping to broker peace after decades upon decades of fighting with one of the other two biggest yakuza families around — the Gojo and Geto families respectively. 

“Excuse me?” Suguru speaks first, a single eyebrow raised, arms crossed over his crisp white button up. 

“I’m not here for this yakuza bullshit. I’m trying to live my own life — and I’m not in the mood to get swept along in my grandfather’s wishes for me to get married,” your hand is in your bag, fingers curled around your collapsible metal pole, “and I don’t care to know either of you, I don’t really care to stick around you — especially because all its earned me is the disdain of all the other students who have crushes on you — so how about we simply tolerate each other for this year?” 

Satoru whistles, “how disappointing,” his eyes raking over you from head to toe, “you’re worse than your reputation — we heard you were a stuck-up, spoiled rich girl that would do anything to get her way, but turns out you’re just normal,” he sticks out his tongue and makes a gagging noise, “how boring,” 

“Truly tiresome,” Suguru hums, his bangs falling in his dark gaze, “I was looking forward to a woman who could match up to us — maybe fuck me up, punish me, and strip away my dignity — type of girl who’d ruin my life, do you understand?” 

You stare at him, lips parted, brow furrowed, “What?” 

“In other words, we were hoping you were much more interesting than you were — as you are now, you’re just useless,” Satoru sighs dramatically, his pink lips curled in a smile, “bor-inggggg,” 

“You might as well go back to Osaka, or wherever it was you came from,” Suguru shrugs, hands in his pockets, as he pulls a cigarette and a lighter, “you could stay, but as it stands, you would be better off back home — maybe it would even start a war — that could be fun, Satoru,” he remarks, his grin growing more sinister by the minute, as he places the cigarette between his lips, and lighting it. 

“Let’s actually not be so hasty, Suguru. She could have some use,” he holds out his fingers to frame you between them, “could be worth something if we have her work at one of our families clubs — selling her body. She could make some use for us,” he says cruelly, “Otherwise, go back home, and let them know we’re the ones not interested in you,” he says, brushing past you along with Suguru. 

And you couldn’t decide which one of their smiles were the most bone chilling — and why you couldn’t quite find your voice in that moment. And you didn’t — not until you finally reached home, your phone ringing. 

“How’s it going, dear granddaughter?” you could hear the grin of the old coot even over the phone — and how could you tell him you wanted to go home now? You had hoped to go there to give two rejections — not earn two of your own. You hoped to stick out the year before leaving this place behind, if only to appease your grandfather. 

“I’m fine, but I think…I think I’m homesick,” you sit on the edge of your bed, hunched over, hand holding your head up, propped against your knee. 

“Why’s that? Did something happen?” 

“Nothing, I just—” 

“You’re not coming back home,” and your hopes fall, “one year, you have to stay one year no matter what. Don’t care if you have to fight with every bone in your body and fiber of your being — last a year,” 

“But why—” 

“Make those boys fall for you, and then break their hearts, heh — your grandfather is a heartbreaker and I know you can do the same,” and you know his lips are curled in a smile not too dissimilar to the two men you met today, “don’t forget where you come from — and what you’re worth,” and he cuts the line, as you stare at your phone, before tossing it away and lying back. 

Well, you know what you had to do. 

~~~

“Morning,” you know where’d they be — the only free period they had together that they spent in the dining hall with their entourage — including some girls who had been harassing you about how you knew the pair — ones you had suspected in fucking with your locker, smearing mud all over your shoes. A small retaliation for capturing their precious crushes’ attention.

The two heirs only stare for a moment — it had been two weeks since they had seen you, “thought I had gone home?” 

“Surprised you didn’t,” Suguru remarks, utterly disinterested from the look in his eyes, despite the smile plastered on his lips, “guess I lost the bet, Satoru,” 

You raise an eyebrow at Satoru, “you thought I’d stay?” 

“Thought you'd stay to take me up on my offer to sell your body,” he holds out his hand as Suguru slaps a stack of bills in his palm, “did you?” 

“I did actually,” your lips curl, as their gazes slide to one another, before you drop a bag on their table, “one kidney, 5,000,000 yen,” and you take delight in the smiles that slide off their expressions, as they stare at you, Satoru looking over the lip of the bag before you knocked it over and let the stacks of money spill over the table, “it took two weeks since it took a while to arrange and recover, but it was well worth it,” 

The pair only can stare — expression unreadable and words seemingly stolen from their mouths, as you only smiled down at them, your gaze digging into their faces like daggers.

Suguru’s eyebrows knit together, “How did you—“ 

“Friend of a friend,” you shrug, “I’ll have to be on a low sodium diet and probably do blood work a little more frequently but you were right about one thing — I was being weak,” you lift up your shirt to show the bandage on your side, their eyes wide, as they can only stare, “I won’t be making that mistake again,” 

And you place your foot up on their table, leaning in, as the mask slips from your face, and your anger surges forth, “listen here, you masochistic fuckers, I’m not scared of either one of you. I don’t care if I have to crawl home choking on my own blood, I’ll be sure you’re choking on each other’s as I drag you both to hell. I’m staying here, whether either of you like it or not,” 

“You can’t talk to them like that—“ one of the girls pipes up, her lips twisted in a frown. 

“I can talk to them however I want - do you know who I am? I come from a family just like there’s but we actually know how to cover up our crimes,” you chuckle, head tilting, “do you know how easy it’d be to get rid of you two?” Your gaze slides to the other girl, “it’d be all too simple — and trust me, I’d get my hands dirty if it’s the two of you,” your lips curl into a wide grin as you add, “after all, you guys did me the favor of dirtying my shoes already,” 

And the two blanch white, all indignance replaced with genuine fear — and you had never known someone could look at you as someone to be feared. 

And you didn’t know you would like it so much. 

You staple the smile on your face again, as the two heirs still sit speechless in their seats, eyes glued to you,  “Well that’s all,” you slide back, “I have to head to class—” 

But then your wrists are caught — pulling you back, as you find yourself pinned on either side by the two heirs, your body tense, before your gaze slides between them, “What?” 

“Marry me,” they both say simultaneously — and you gape at them. 

You are pushing them back, palms pressed against their chests, but find yourself met with two immovable objects, instead trying to squirm out of their grips. “What?” And their grips loosen enough for you to take a step back, but their hands remain around your wrists. 

“I have to have you,” Suguru presses a chaste kiss to the back of your hand, dark gaze lidded as he looks up at you, and a shiver climbs up your spine, “I’ve never been so terrified or turned on in my life — it must be love,” 

Satoru is the same, mesmerized with eager words, “I want you to do what you promised, Princess — ruin my life,” Satoru’s lips curled in a wide grin, “want you to completely fuck me up, dominate my entire life — and there’s only one way to do that, marry me,” 

Suguru only scowls at Satoru, “You know Satoru, it’s very rude to propose after your best friend does,” Suguru’s gaze slides to him, “she’s mine,” and his other hand finds your shoulder, pulling you against his chest, even as you struggle against their grips, “her family reached out to mine first,” 

“Fuckers, I swear to god, let me go—“ but they act as if they can’t hear you, a current of possessiveness sweeping their thoughts away. 

“So what? Her family decided to ask for my hand — looks like yours wasn’t good enough,” Satoru only grins, pulling you against him instead, his breath warming your flushed skin, as you grimace, “and I’d make her happier than you ever would.” 

“Want to take this outside, Satoru?” Suguru’s glare sent chills down your spine, but Satoru’s lips split into a smile so wide, you were afraid his head would crack in two. 

“Why? Feeling lonely? Go by yourself,”

And finally you stomp on Satoru’s foot before elbowing Suguru in the stomach, drawing groans from both boys, as you stumble away from them, whirling to face them, “Don’t treat me like your goddamn property or that I’m a prize to be won,” your words slip like venom from your lips, “don’t ever fucking touch me without asking,” 

“Of course, we’re sorry,” Suguru only grins after, holding his stomach, but he still looks all too delighted, “you should reprimand us like the scum we are, isn’t that right Satoru?” 

Satoru nods, pouting, “Yeah we deserve more of a punishment,” and your skin crawls at their eagerness. 

“I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you two, but I don’t want anything to do with it,” you walk away, hiding your dumbstruck expression, but the two only followed you. 

“You can’t just walk away from us, you have to decide who you want,” Suguru calls after you, their long strides meant they caught up all too fast, and you’re armed with your collapsible pole now, pointing it at both of them. 

“Two minutes ago, both of you thought I was normal and boring,” your eyes narrow — was this another plot to just sell you to some club? 

“And I’m sorry about that sweetheart,” Satoru’s arm is around your waist again, while Suguru’s fingers intertwined with yours, “we were clearly wrong — and you have to take responsibility,” 

You stare at them, “for what?” 

And he’s leaning to whisper in your ear, “I’m so hard for you right now,” And you’re whirling on them with the pole, but they both expertly dodge your assault, before you’re hurrying away. But they let you go, watching after you with a grin. 

“This is going to be fun,” Suguru remarks, looking at his best friend, “I can’t guarantee I won’t kill you for her hand,” 

Satoru only smirks in reply, “You stole the words out of my mouth, Suguru.” 

~~~

It had been a week — a week of you trying skillfully to evade the two yakuza heirs. 

And you had failed. No matter how fast you left your classes, where you hid, where you sat — the two always found you. And now you have resorted to sitting outside to eat your lunch, being careful to avoid any stray glance of your presence. You sat, back against the building, as you held your head, bento box in your lap — how long until they would get the message? How long until they figured out you wanted nothing to do with them? 

Your grandpa had told you to make them fall for you, but you didn’t think you had too much more to do with how the two were following you around, dogging your every step. 

How would you last another year? 

You opened your bento — at least for once, you could enjoy your lunch without one of them— 

“There you are,” and your lunch nearly goes tumbling out of your lap, but you grasp it, keeping your food from spilling out of your bento, and you turn to meet the gaze of Suguru, leaning against the windowsill, “you’re a fast one, sweetheart,” his head tilted and lips curled in his signature smile. 

“How the fuck did you find me so fast?” you stare at him, brow furrowed, “it’s barely been five minutes, and this campus is huge,” 

“It’s the power of love, of course,” you cringe, and he laughs, bringing his knuckles to his lips, “oh rather, it’s the power of the tracking device I slipped in your bag,” 

And you blink, “You what?” 

He shrugs, “Well how else would I have found you so quickly? I’ll slip it in your shoe next time,” and he sighs, as you dig through your bag, before turning it upside down and letting your things spill out on the grass, “besides, there’s a good reason I’m tracking you,” and you find the tracker before stomping on it, digging your heel into it, crushing it into the dirt, “there’s been a kidnapping of another Yakuza heiress,” 

And your eyes flit to him, and he’s still smiling at you, “Who?” you continue to collect your things, shaking out textbooks and examining your things for any other hidden trackers. 

“You’ll learn tonight — come to the compound tonight — you’ve been formally invited by both my father and Satoru’s father,” and he’s hopping out of the window, fingers brushing yours as he hands you your pencil case, and he’s all too close now, his warm breath warming your lips. 

“And if I refuse?” and his lips curl in a smirk. 

“You’d be offending not only my family, but Satoru’s as well—” and he’s rising to his feet, offering you a hand, “and it might end in an all out war, but that would be just fine for us — would it for you?” 

You glare at him, taking his hand reluctantly, as he helps you to your feet, and you brush the dirt from your skirt and legs, “Fine, what time?” 

“After school, Satoru will be waiting by the gates for you,” he smiles, as he settles next to you, pulling out his own lunch, and you tilt your head, “oh are you curious about me? I have my own business to attend to,” 

“Is that what the other bastard is up to?” and he chuckles at that, taking a bite of his food. 

“Something like that.” 

~~~~

“Took you long enough, pretty,” the Gojo heir’s eyes drag over you like spotlights as he leans against the gate outside, the other students staring as you two speak, whispering as they walk by, slowing down to either catch a longer glance at Satoru or hear a bit of your conversation, “with being so quick to leave for lunch, I thought you’d be just as quick leaving the building,” and he’s offering you a drink from the vending machine that you reluctantly take. 

“Well, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to being a spectacle,” you grumble, as you power walk away from the burgeoning traffic jam that Satoru was causing, and he follows behind, “why do they all stare anyway? They know you're a yakuza, don’t they?” 

“Part of the draw,” he shrugs, the hiss of his own soda filling the air as he pops it open, “everyone wants what they can’t have, but don’t worry, I only have eyes for you, sweetheart,” you grimace as he sips at his soda, raising an eyebrow, “so what can’t you have?” 

You both finally reach the heart of the city, bustling with people left and right — the one thing you couldn’t get used to from the quieter life you led, “Some peace and quiet, apparently,” you adjust your bag on your shoulder in a tighter grip, if only you could lose him in this crowd and be done with all this shit, but it wasn’t that simple, and then it occurs to you, “did you put a tracker on me as well?” 

“Nah, I just used Suguru’s,” he smiles, as he downs the rest of his drink with his head thrown back, before crushing the can in his hand and tossing it away in the recycling bin nearby, “plus, I didn’t have time, been busy with other things, unfortunately,” 

“What things have you—” 

And you’re suddenly tugged into an alleyway, an arm around your neck and a hand clamped over your mouth, “Don’t struggle, it will only make it more difficult for you,” the man whispers in your ear, as another two men draw closer to your sides, “we’ll kill you if you do,” 

You can’t scream, but you don’t need to — because the man who grabbed you screams first. 

“Who the fuck are—” and he screams, his hands slipping from your side, the thump of his body against the pavement making you flinch, as you slowly turn to find Gojo, as he only glares at the other men, before his gaze slides to you, softening with a smile. 

“Sweetheart, it’s okay, come here,” and you swallow, before taking shaky steps to his side, and he’s pulling you behind him, “wait here,” 

It happens far too quickly.

Or maybe it’s just a blur now. Because now he’s beaten the three men into submission, their scarlet blood splattering against his uniform, the wet squelch of their flesh as he punches and kicks them, his shoe digging into their sides. He winds his fist back again. 

“That’s enough,” you say hoarsely, swallowing thickly, “they’re barely alive,” 

“More than they deserve,” he mutters, before sighing and grabbing one by his shirt, fabric straining against the dead weight of the man, and pulls him close, his hand connecting with his face as he slaps him awake, “You hear me? Listen,” he shakes him, until the man’s eyes blink open, bleary, “You see me? Don’t forget my face. You touch her again — and it’s the last thing you’ll see before the afterlife, got that?” 

“Yes,” the man slurs. 

“That’s my girl,” he jerks his head at you, “she’s mine and if you or any of your stupid friends or family see her, don’t talk or touch her, much less even look at her,” and his lips curl again, “or I promise my family and the Geto family will slaughter you — until there’s nothing left.” and he drops the man onto the ground, “let’s go,” he mutters, shaking the blood off his knuckles, before using the inside of his uniform jacket to wipe the rest off. 

“Your uniform, it's—” and he glances at the blood seeping into the fabric of his jacket and crisp shirt, and you’re digging through your bag, “I have my hand towel and some—” and he’s shaking his head. 

“I have a sweatshirt I can wear in my bag,” and he’s tugging off his uniform jacket and unbuttoning his shirt, and you can’t look away fast enough — not before seeing the tattoo littering his back. 

A large lion against his back, seemingly roaring, against a backdrop of bamboo, stared back at you, as your breath catches in your throat — he wasn’t just a spoiled heir, he was a real yakuza. And what he did to those men — his eyes met yours again, as he tugged the sweatshirt on, lips still in that ridiculous smile — it was likely the least of what he could really do to them. 

“Oh, sorry, guess I never told ya,” he pulls the orange sweatshirt down, pulling a pair of sunglasses on, and your horrified expression in the circular black rims stare back at you, “sorry for scaring you, sweetheart,” 

“You’re really—” you cut off, heart caught in your throat. Yeah, you had spent too much of your life surrounded by men covered in tattoos, but these two — their auras — were on another level that was simply — terrifying. 

“A yakuza?” he finishes, peering at you over the rim of his sunglasses, “Surprised it took you this long to figure out — thought you had that pieced together a while ago — what? I assume your family shielded you from that kind of violence — probably had guards on you 24/7 so no one would mess with you. Well you aren’t in Osaka anymore,” his fingers intertwined with yours, his larger hand engulfing yours as he tugs you along away from the alley, the faint groans of the men disappearing into the ambient noise of the city, “Stay close, princess.” 

And you flushed, biting your lip. There was a lot you didn’t know, but you knew you better learn — you spare one glance back at the alley — and quick. 

~~~

You both arrive back to the compound, as you’re funneled into a room, you get a glimpse of Suguru in an adjacent hallway, his clothes as bloodied as Satoru’s was, if not more. His dark eyes catch yours and his lips curl, as he holds his hand up as a greeting, mouthing, “Yo,” 

You’re shepherded away to sit, and soon enough, Satoru and Suguru join you, as you fidget in the middle of the room, the three of you sit on cushions, while another cushion directly in front of you. Your fingers can't help but toy with the ribbon on the front of your uniform — what if this was just a ruse to sell you off? Maybe they even found out about you selling your kidney? Anxiety swirled in your mind, dragging down your body to even the tips of your toes, your body buzzing and stinging with thoughts. 

“This really is just a talk to discuss the missing Yakuza heiress,” Suguru cuts through your thoughts, as you stare at him, slack jawed, and he only shrugs, leaning back against his hands flat on the floor, “you’re not hard to read, sweetheart,” 

“Besides, if we wanted to kill you, why not let you die in that alleyway?” Satoru chimes in, ever so helpful, as you glare at him, before his gaze slides to Suguru, “did you take care of that like I asked, Suguru?” and he nods, and before you can ask a question, the door slides open. 

Instead of the heads of the household, a yakuza comes in, sunglasses stare back at you, his dark brown hair slicked back, shaved on the sides of his head, as he stared down at the three of you, “The heads won’t be able to make it to this meeting — something has come up,” 

“Yaga, good to see you,” Suguru chirps, while Satoru only sighs, hands behind his head. 

“Glad to see you haven’t gotten yourself killed since you’ve been away, old man—“ and Satoru earns a fist to his head, “ow!” 

“Keep it up and you’ll get something worse than a whack to the head,” Yaga grumbles, taking his seat, “you must be the girl,” he eyes you up and down, “I’ll get straight to the point — the Akazawa heiress is missing. She’s assumed to be kidnapped,” he hands you a photo of her — shoulder length black hair, her eyes look past the camera, her head tilted downwards, but her hazel eyes pierce through the picture. 

“How long has she been gone?” Suguru asks, “any chance that she just ran off?” 

“There’s a chance she’s been sold off for a couple hundred thou,” Satoru remarks, crossing his arms, “people would pay a premium for a yakuza heiress,” and his eyes slide to you, and you glare back. 

“We don’t know — maybe she ran off, maybe she’s been sold, maybe there’ll be a ransom coming in at one point or another, or maybe she’s dead—” and you bite your lip, “but we can’t take the risk, especially since we have a similar heiress under our care now,” Yaga says, crossing his arms with a hefty sigh, “that being said, you’ll be staying at the compound until further notice— your things have already been brought here,“ you gape at him, mouth nearly hanging open, “and you’ll have Satoru or Suguru with you at all times — their schedules have been rearranged to have class with you,” 

“But—“ and Yaga shoots a look at you that silences your protests. 

“These orders came from the three heads, including your grandfather, would you like to defy them?” And your mouth clamps shut, your head falling. 

“No, sir,” Yaga rises, leaving, but not before ordering the two heirs to show you where you’ll be staying, “and any real threats to you appear, and your classes will be made online and you will remain under guard in the compound,” Yaga adds before disappearing behind another door. 

“It won’t be that bad, Princess,” Suguru grins, as they walk you to your room, “now we can really get to know each other before we’re married,” 

“Don’t you mean before we’re married?” Satoru says, as Suguru only smiles back at him. 

“I would rather not marry you, Satoru, dating you for a week was enough—“ and Satoru opens his mouth to reply. 

“I’m not marrying either of you,” you rub your head, feeling the beginnings of a headache creeping on your temples — you barely could make it through the day with enduring the amount of insanity these two already inflicted, you were sure you’d murder one or both of them if you had to spend 24/7 with them, “we should be keeping a low profile from now on, not going out—” 

“Except for the dates we have planned,” Satoru says, offering you the key to your room, and you unlock the door, stepping inside. 

“Especially not for those.” And you slam the door shut and lock it. 

Your eyes take in the boxes that surround you, full of the things from your apartment, and sigh. 

Fuck, this really was your life now, wasn’t it? 

~~~

“Why are you staring at me?” you can’t ignore Suguru’s stare in the subway, even when you refuse to meet it. The light from the windows flooded into the subway, flickering as the carts sped by, as the two of you hung onto the grab handles. Your usual peaceful ride to university was now impeded by Suguru who stood by your side, his eyes seemingly glued to you. 

“I see that your left side is slower to respond than your right,” and you shift under his gaze, “that’s why your bag is always on your left side, so you can spot a threat easier and have a stronger grip, smart,” 

You raise an eyebrow, “How did you figure that out?” 

He shrugs, “From observation — I also move a little slower on my left — I even blink slower,” and you face him, staring into his eyes, trying to notice any difference between the two eyes. The only thing you could see is how pretty they really were — dark and lidded, not as bright or striking as Satoru’s, but just as mysterious. 

“I can’t tell,” you tilt your head, and he only smiles. 

“There isn’t a difference, but I got you to stare into my eyes, didn’t I?” and you glower at him, your remark cut off by the influx of people flooding into the cart. Fuck, you never had seen it this full before. You forced yourself not to cringe under the tight quarters — you could handle this, it wasn’t a big deal, even as the people sandwiched themselves all around you, anxiety biting at your nerves. And then you’re knocked around by the crowd as the cart jerks, but then, Suguru is pulling you lightly so your back is pressed against a wall and he’s caging you in, his body protecting you. 

Your breath catches — he’s so close, “You don’t have to—” and your gazes meet again, your breath catching, your bag caught between your bodies. He’s nearly pressed against you, the heat from his form seeps into your own. And he smells good, despite the sticky heat of the summer lingering — something musky but sharp at the same time — what was that scent? 

“You seemed uncomfortable,” he says, his hand holding onto the grab handle above, “this seemed like the easiest solution, especially so I can protect you — it would be much easier to shield you with my body this way,” 

“Shut up,” you grumble, as he chuckles, before you’re sighing, “I’m not used to taking the subway — I used to have a car that took me back and forth,” you chew your lip, “I didn’t want you to think I couldn’t take care of myself,” 

“Makes sense to have you driven — as a yakuza heiress, they wanted precautions,” Suguru nods, his eyes sliding around the cart, “you never know,” 

“Is that why your eyes keep scanning the subway cart?” you raise an eyebrow. 

And his lips curl, “I did say I’d protect you with my life, didn’t I?” 

“Did you mean that?”

A chuckle escaped his lips, a noise that makes your breath catch, as the cart jerks again, pressing you both even closer, “I never say anything that I don’t mean, princess.” 

~~~

“Is following me around really necessary even after classes?” you hadn’t bothered to pull your usual disappearing act — it was counterproductive in multiple ways (the first being that either of them would find you and the second being you had to be glued to one of their sides at all times), “it’s not like someone is going jump from the shadows and kidnap me on campus.” 

“You don’t know that for sure, do you, princess?” Satoru drawls lazily, as he twirls his dinner knife around his fingers with a skill that said he’d done it a million times before — probably instead of doing the thing he was supposed to be doing, “a man comes up behind you while you’re studying or shopping, presses a weapon or gun to your side, just out of view, and he’s got the perfect hostage,” 

You raise an eyebrow, “You sound like you’ve done it before,” and the knife stops between his middle finger and pointer, the tip pointed at you, as he looks at you over the rim of his sunglasses. 

“Don’t get jealous, sweetheart, you’re the only girl I’d want to kidnap,” he leans forward and swipes a mochi from your plate — even though he had already ate his own — and you scoff, as you turn your attention back to your neglected dessert, choosing to use your brain cells to focus on your food instead of this psycho. 

“How lucky,” you mutter, as you stab your remaining mochi instead of your escort, “do the two of you have to take shifts like this? I’m surprised the two of you aren’t glued to my sides 24/7 together,” 

“We thought it was only fair the two of us split our time — and as much as I’d like to spend each and every hour with you, we both unfortunately have other responsibilities to tend to,” and he takes a bite of the mochi, “plus, this way, we get to spend time with you alone without the other interfering, and trust me, if I saw you with Suguru,” his lips curl, “I’d interfere,” 

“Well you don’t have to be worried about that, because I don’t plan on being with either one of you,” you reply, “I’m here to finish school and go home as soon as I can,” 

“You won’t be saying that once I make you fall for me,” 

You get to your feet, as you pull out your wallet — but Satoru waves you off, already pulling out his card for the waiter, “You’d have a better chance making me fall for you if you tripped me,” you roll your eyes, as you round the booth, and quick as a light, you trip right into his arms, your body bumping against his chest as his arms steady you. A hand tilts your face up to meet cerulean eyes filled with mirth, “did you trip—” 

And then you spot the chair leg you had tripped over oh-so-gratefully, “I don’t need to resort to those measures to make you fall for me, princess,” his finger traces your jaw with a featherlight touch, “I have plenty of other ways to do that,” 

You get to your feet properly and shove him away, as he chuckled, as you rolled your eyes, “Maybe in your twisted dreams, but—” And Satoru is tugging you away from the booth — a tight arm around you waist, as you stammer, “what the fuck are you—” 

“Guy’s been following you — just spotted him from a distance,” he murmurs, and your shoulders tense, resisting the urge to look back, “just keep walking with me, don’t worry,” his arm gently squeezed you, “won’t let anything happen to you, princess,” 

“Don’t call me that,” you murmur, as he leads you back inside the closest building, “where are we—” and he’s pulling out his phone, texting several people. 

“Getting us a ride in case I need to get you to safety, and letting Suguru know of the situation,” he offers you a small grin, “I could send you back, but that would be that and you will be on lockdown. Things might be getting a little more interesting from here — so it’s your choice, will you stay or go?” 

You considered your choices — you could run away from this, go back to the compound, but going back was a guarantee that you would be stuck 24/7 in the compound and stuck there for the remainder of your time here. And these two would take full advantage of that. Plus, your mind wandered to the girl who had been taken — you wanted to know more about what happened to her and why you were being targeted next. 

“Let’s go,” and his lips curl. The two of you round several street corners, Satoru’s arm remains tight around your waist, as he leads to a more and more secluded corner of the city, “is this the right move?” your hand wanders into your pocket, fingers around your collapsible pole. 

He sighs dramatically, “Do you have such little faith in me, sweetheart?” 

“Considering the two of you are insane, yes, I do,” and he clicks his tongue at you, “where—” 

And someone punches you, fist connecting with your left cheek as you stumble sideways into the wall of a nearby building. You hear the cock of a gun, your eyes catch sight of the weapon pointed at Satoru. You caught a glimpse as your eyes flicker open, several men stand behind him, all bearing weapons of some sort. 

Your ears ring, as you clutch at your head, as you struggle to get your balance, your vision in your left eye blurry from the impact,  “Come with me, and your girlfriend won’t have to watch you die,” you feel something warm run down your nose, and you touch it — scarlet stains your fingers. 

Fuck. 

Your eyes flicker back to where Satoru stands, eyes flickering to you, a shiver running down your spine at his hard gaze — not a hint of euphoria left — his lips a thin line, and his fists clenched, “I’ll fucking kill you,” his words leave in a whispered hiss, and quick as lightning, the gun is knocked from his fingers, and Satoru’s got him pinned down, fist winding back to punch his head in. The other men don’t hesitate to join the fray, just as Satoru doesn’t hesitate to take them down, blood spilling from their bodies as they fall one by one. 

You said you would be stronger — that you wouldn’t let this happen again. You weren’t some person who needed to be sheltered away. Your fingers clutched at the pole in your pocket, pulling it out, as you slowly uncollapsed it — you were a yakuza heir, just as much as these two were. 

One of them got up to shaky feet, lifting up his knife to stab Satoru from behind, “DIE!” and you slam into his side, hitting over the head with the pole — a grisly crack as the pole nearly snaps against his skull. 

“Fuck off and die!” the words leave your lips as you taste your own blood dripping from your nose. And you can feel Satoru turn to see you, eyes wide as he stares —  your words burn as much as your head hurts, as you wipe the blood from your nose. 

And the men are all down now, as Satoru walks over to you, and his fingers reach gently for your face, as he examines the blood dripping, “it’s just a nosebleed,” you say, and his gaze softens ever so slightly, before darkening, as a groan comes from the man that punched you. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” your heart flutters at his gentle touch, the calluses of his fingers against your cheek, as he pulls tissues from his pocket to wipe the blood from your nose. 

And his eyes linger on your face for a moment, before he turns to the culprit, fingers clenched tightly around the napkin soaked in your blood. 

He drags the man up by the collar, shaking him, a gurgled groan leaving his bloody lips, “You might want to go, sweetheart — I have to make sure I let this one die for ever laying a hand on my woman—“ and you clasp your hand on his shoulder, shaking your head. 

“He’s half dead already — you don’t need to finish the job,” and he pouts, shaking the man again for good measure. 

“You said he should die—“ 

You shrug, “People like this aren’t worth the trouble of killing. And you don’t need more problems on your hands — so if you’re doing this for me, don’t bother. Let’s just go,” 

And you see his lips slowly curl into a grin, as he pulls you into a hug, arms around you waist, as he runs his fingers through your hair gingerly, “I didn’t realize you cared, sweetheart,” and you frown, “don’t want me getting in more trouble, huh? If it’s for you, I’ll oblige, but you owe me one,” and his fingers slide under your chin. 

“Oi, is the party over without me?” A familiar voice calls, Suguru walks over, several other Yakuza in tow, his sleeves rolled up, as he takes a once over of the situation, seemingly uninterested in the scum, his eyes falling on you and Satoru, lingering on the blood that still was trickling from your nose. His eyes narrowed, “which one—” 

“It’s already taken care of, Suguru,” Satoru rubs the back of his head, “but for your information,” he kicks the one who had punched you in his side, forcing him to roll over, a slight groan escaping his lips, “that’s the one who hurt her,” 

Suguru nodded, stepping over the bodies as if it was nothing more than a spill that had been yet to be cleaned up, as his hand brushes over your chin softly, drawing close, a sharp gasp leaving your lips when his fingers decide to travel to your nose, “It’s not broken, just bleeding, but I should still get her checked out at the compound,” 

“You?” Satoru furrows his brow, “you’re going to leave me—” 

“To clean up your own mess? Yes, I am,” Suguru smiles, “because it’s my turn to keep watch,” as he shows his watch, already well past midnight, “and I should be getting her back to the compound,” the two glare at each other, a tension settling over the scene that you were far too done with. 

You sigh, stepping past both of them, walking over the bodies splayed out on the floor, “Let me know when you both decide,” you yawn, hands in your pockets now, “I need sleep,” and Suguru follows behind, and you don’t see him turn to smirk at Satoru. 

~~~~

You swore someone was watching you. 

A presence loomed over you, hovering slightly, as you shifted in your sleep, a sigh parting your lips as you turned, still caught between in realms of deep sleep as you drifted in and out, eyes fluttering open a moment, and caught sight of a shadow. 

No, it was nothing. It was nothing. And then you’d wake to sunlight filtering through your windows, eyes fluttering open, but you would still wake with the lingering touch of someone else against your face. 

But each morning you’d check the locks, and it would be locked, with no signs of tampering — and you’d be left wondering if it was a dream or not. 

It had been like this for the last week — you’d sense a presence, for a split second of what you thought was consciousness, and then it would be morning again. 

And finally, you decided to stay awake, a knife you had pilfered away from the kitchen under your pillow. You let your eyes drift shut, drifting in and out of a half sleep, until you hear it. 

The slow slide of the door opening, and the soft close of the door behind. The person takes nearly soundless steps towards you, before leaning above you and you feel the faint brush of hair against your skin, before leaning back with a quiet sigh. 

Suguru?

And his fingers slide through your hair softly. He watches over you, quietly, until you turn to face him, eyes open. 

“You know it’s really creepy to break into a woman’s room in the middle of the night,” and Suguru blinks, before his lips curl in a small smirk, “and it’s even weirder when you just sit there to watch her sleep,” 

“Just trying to make sure you’re safe, sweetheart,” 

“In a locked room?” And he shrugs. 

“I broke in easily,” and you scoff, as he rakes his own fingers through his hair, “who else would keep an eye on you?” 

You sit up, crossing your arms, “Surprised you and Satoru aren’t in here,” 

“We take turns,” and you stare at him, as he leans back against the wall, “all we do is keep watch princess — would you have let us in otherwise?” 

You open and shut your mouth, before you find words again amidst the haze of frustration, “I’m not so fucking helpless that you both need to sit here and watch me sleep,”

“We have been doing this since the threats began nearly and you only noticed recently,” he points out, his eyes catching the faint light of the moon, as cautious and patient as Suguru was — his expression as indiscernible as a new moon was, “and it’s only because Satoru had gotten sloppy,” he shrugs. 

You rub at your temples, “you’re not the only one who is a yakuza—“ 

Suguru tilts his head, “Princess, you don’t know what it means to be one — not even your fingers have never been bloodied, and it should stay that way—“ 

Your fingers close around the handle of the knife as you lunge at him — you snapped. You were tired — tired of the men in your life running your life — your grandfather, these yakuza heads, and these two idiots — all of them treating you as if you were spineless. 

And you weren’t. 

His hand darts out — and it happens quickly. The knife clatters against the hardwood, and he’s pinned you underneath him. 

You glare, embarrassment licks at your cheeks like flames — you had placed your fingers on the stovetop and what were you expecting other than to get burned? You can’t meet his gaze, and you’re expecting another lecture or sanctimonious attitude, but instead, his fingers skim your cheek, “You should pick your battles wisely, sweetheart — because not all of them will let you off the hook,” and he leans close, breath warming your lips, as your eyes can’t help but squeeze shut. 

Only to wince after a sharp flick to your forehead. 

And his weight leaves you at once, your head turning to find him examining the knife you had stolen, “You should also choose a better weapon than a kitchen knife — especially one as dull as this one,” 

You scowl at him, “Well, how else will I defend myself?” 

And he smiles, shrugging, “Isn’t it simple? Use the weapons already at your disposal,” 

Your brow knots together, “What weapons?” And his hand is sliding the door open, as he casts one more glance over his shoulder, lips curled in that insufferable smile. 

“The ones sworn to you.” 

~~~~ 

“You’re staying home tomorrow from class,” the thermometer is plucked from between your lips, the white haired yakuza scrutinizing your room, cerulean eyes catching the pile of tissues you had failed to stuff properly in your trash bin, “how long have you had this, Princess?” 

You lay bedridden and pouting as you draw the covers over your face — you had not been feeling well this whole weekend, but you developed a fever last night. You thought it would be gone by the morning, “Just since this morning,” and he’s tugging the covers away, his brow wrinkled, and then you see it, bandages on his forehead, “when did you get hit on the head?” 

And he blink, fingers running through his hair, “This? It’s nothing,” and you raise an eyebrow, “if you must know, it’s just my punishment for taking you into the thick of things the other day,” 

Your brow wrinkles, “Who—“ 

He waves you off, “It’s not important — the important thing is that you get better — can’t have my future wife succumbing to the flu, now can I?” And you scoff. 

“I’m not your future wife,” you mumble, and you hear a small chuckle from him. And then your muscles begin to grow heavy, eyelids fluttering shut under the weight of exhaustion, and your skin feeling far too cold for your burning insides, “Gojo, I’m not—“ 

And you slip into darkness. 

You can feel the world around you move, the sounds of wind brushing against your skin, and the flicker of lights in your eyes. Your lips part, a desert inside your mouth with no oasis in sight, “where—“

A voice quietly shushes you, fingers raking through your hair gently, lulling you back to sleep. Was it your grandfather? No, he never coddled you like this. Not even he had his yakuza to look after. You were expected to care for yourself —- you couldn’t show weakness. 

Not as an heir — even if you were just a kid. 

And when you do wake for a moment, it’s with some prodding, a voice whispering for you to open your mouth at the press of a medicine cap to your lips, and your eyes flutter open to catch a glimpse of blue eyes — so you do, swallowing it with water. 

You fall into the arms of sleep again, only waking to your head slightly aching, and a distinct void in your stomach. You reach around blindly for your phone, and find that it’s still Sunday, nearly the evening. Your eyes adjust as your gaze spots the last glimmers of the sunset in the window. 

How long have you slept? Like four hours? You sighed, slumping back into bed, as you stretched. Your fingers pressed to your forehead, still a slight fever, but it was definitely lower. Maybe you could sleep for a bit longer, and you turn on your side only to find a familiar, not-so familiar sight. Your lips can’t help but curl a little. Again there is someone in your room, but instead as your eyes flutter open you see that Satoru has dozed off.

You hold back a chuckle, as you slowly get up, drawing a little closer. His head was against the wall, slightly tilted, soft breaths leaving his lips, arms crossed. He had a prescription medicine next to him along with a water bottle. Your fingers reach for the medicine, and you glance it over — seeing that it was prescribed earlier today for you. 

Your brows knit together, when did you—and then it comes back to you slowly — the lights, the sound of wind and cars — he drove you to a hospital. And his shoulder starts to slip 

And then you reach for him, trying to make sure he didn’t hurt himself. 

That’s when he grabs you — his eyes fly open, as he grabs you by the wrist, pulling you close, his hard topaz gaze cuts through you, until it slowly fills with recognition. His fingers digging into your wrist loosen ever so slightly, as he blinks. 

“Sorry about that, sweetheart,” but his fingers don’t leave your wrist, “are you feeling better?” 

“I am,” you admit, as his other hand reaches up to brush against your forehead and then neck, sending hest crawling up your skin for a different reason. 

“Looks like the medicine worked,” he sighs, leaning back, “guess I can scratch beating up that doctor off my list,” and you furrow your brow, “it was a joke, Princess,” 

“Why did you take me?” You asked and he tilted his head, “I mean you could have had me looked at here, so why did you—“ 

“As much as my father pays for these services, they don’t work weekends, usually — we do have an on-call physician, but,” he shrugs, as his thumb brushed back and forth against your wrist, right where your pulse was, “I didn’t want to wait,” 

And your eyes slide to the bandages around his head, “but you couldn’t get that checked out?” 

“Worried about me? I’m touched, Princess,” and your fingers reach for the bandages and brush against his locks, “hey, you—“ 

“It’s coming loose,” you lean over and slide your hands until you find where it’s coming undone and tie it tighter, fingers brushing against his soft locks — noting the undercut you hadn’t noticed before, “there,” 

“Thank you,” he murmurs, as your eyes meet his and your breath catches, your face an inch or two from his. And he looks different in the dark of the room, illuminated by the last vestiges of sun that were quickly fading into the night — softer. 

“Why did you take care of me?” And he blinks a moment, taken aback and he tilts his head, “someone else could have—“ 

“I wanted to,” he cuts you off gently, “why would I let someone else do it when I could? It was the least I could do,” and it was your turn to tilt your head, as he adds in a whisper, “I let you get hurt. I should have sent you home,” 

“If you had tried, I would have stayed anyway,” and he chuckles. 

“I know,” he murmurs, “and I know what it’s like to tough through things as if you’re invincible — as if nothing can touch you — and it’s only a matter of time until it does,” and your fingers brush against the bandages on his head, as you dare closer, less than a breath away. 

“Maybe I should make you take your own advice,” you whisper, and his lips quirk upwards in a smirk. 

“I’d love to see you try, Princess,” he adds with a grin, “you know I’d love to submit to you anyti—“ 

And you swallow the rest of his sentence with your lips, a chaste brush that leaves your entire body burning for more — a spark to kindling that you told yourself you wouldn’t start. But, your lips part his to see his soft gaze meeting your own, before finding your lips again, how could you not? 

“I’m going to get you sick,” you manage between kisses, lips meeting and parting, as he chuckles against you, a vibration sending a shiver that definitely wasn’t from your fever.

“You’re worth it, Princess,” but he kisses you one last time, noses brushing, before your stomach rumbles loudly in the relative silence of both of your soft pants. You flush, and he can’t hold back his laugh, as you smack his shoulder.  

“Shut up, I haven’t eaten since breakfast, thanks to someone,” and he’s still laughing as you try to smack him again, but he catches you by the wrist. 

“Don’t forget, I really like it when you punish me,” his lips press to your wrist, your breath catching for a moment before you hit him again on the chest regardless. And he laughs, leaning on his hand, “oh what will I do with you, sweetheart?” 

You scowl at him, rolling your eyes, “You can start by getting me dinner,” you grumble, and he repents, getting to his feet, “Satoru?” And he pauses, eyes flickering back, “thank you,” you manage, biting your lip all the whole, unable to meet his eyes or see the smile on his lips. 

“Anytime, Princess.” 

~~~~

You hadn’t seen Suguru or Satoru all week. 

Once a sought after rarity l, but now a foreboding concern. Satoru had been away on business — you didn’t care to know what, but you knew he’d come back only more clingy than ever. You chewed on your lip — especially after the kiss. 

Fuck. You kissed Satoru, you buried your face in your hands, what the fuck were you doing? Could you use the excuse that your fever had rendered you momentarily insane? No, Satoru would only crack a joke saying that he’s crazy for you too. 

What was your plan? You were only trying to bide your time for a year — not become further entangled 

You lay back on your bed, as you scroll through your phone — but Suguru was a different story. You heard from Satoru that he had returned. Yet now there was some random yakuza checking in each hour  — and even worse, keeping you confined to the compound. 

And a small part of you did worry for them as you tossed your phone aside — those fools may have death wishes but that didn’t mean you wished the same. 

You leave your room, sighing as you explore the compound. You had done your fair share of exploring, but you had never wandered into Suguru or Satoru’s quarters. You had been told by each of them where their rooms were, only for you to glare at them for providing you the implication. But now…maybe it was useful. 

You walked through the halls — seemed like most people were away at the moment. When Satoru had captured those people who had attacked you both, there was information learned about who was targeting you and of where that girl who was taken could possibly be. But it’s not like you were able to find that information out — unless you went looking yourself. 

Satoru and Suguru’s rooms were close to each other’s — but Satoru’s room was locked, as you tugged at the door to no avail. You glared at the handle as if it was the white haired idiot itself, before turning to Suguru’s door. 

You pressed your ear to the door, it was silent, not a single noise inside. You pull at the door and it opens. You step inside — the room is neat, a desk in the corner, along with a bed on the opposite side, but not much else. There were a few other things — a dresser with a few containers tucked beside it and a small bookcase against the wall near the desk lined with books on each shelf. 

It wasn’t what you expected — though you didn’t know what to expect. You stepped into the room, glancing around, as you approached the desk first. You rifle through the papers, finding nothing relevant — only papers from class and a few scattered notes that had nothing but addresses and initials scribbled. 

And then the door opens, you freeze, before you slowly turn to see Suguru, his clothes tattered, blood dripping from his arms and soaked through his white button up. His gaze is dark and heavy, until he finds your eyes, his brow wrinkled. 

“What are you doing?” no ‘sweetheart’ or ‘Princess’ — just a question. 

“I was looking—“ but you bite your lips, as you watch his shoulders slump, “what happened—“ 

And he draws closer, as you slowly take steps back, until he’s looming over you, his arm pressed above you, “Princess, you shouldn’t get involved in these things, unless you want to end up like this,” and the smell of death rolls off of him, the heaviness of his gaze could drag you down to the depths of hell — but you didn’t care. 

“Sit down,��� and he blinks, before you’re pressing him onto the bed, “I’m going to get a first aid kit and some bandages,” 

“Sweetheart—“ but you’re already out of the room, returning with a first aid kit and bandages, “where did you—“ 

“Well after that first time Satoru and I got jumped by those people, I figured it would be good to stock up on things,” you pull out scissors and tape, and you dampen a washcloth you had stored in the kit with a water bottle you had grabbed. “Take off your shirt,” he hesitates, “getting shy?” 

Suguru’s lips curl, before he sighs, unbuttoning his shirt, “You know I rather you hurt me than take care of me,” and you scoff, as you busy yourself with preparing the materials to tend to him. 

“Well it looks like someone else already did that for you,” and your eyes meet with his bare chest, the red and black ink of his tattoos encroached onto his shoulders, but more than that — bruises bloomed on different parts of his body, scars from old wounds of various ages littered his skin, and dried and fresh scarlet clung to his skin from fresh cuts. 

You take the washcloth, slowly starting to run it over his body, the white cloth marred with his blood, he doesn’t flinch even as it cleans his cuts or wounds.  

“Why are you doing this?” And your eyes meet his, his amethyst eyes cut through you. 

“Because you’re hurt,” 

“Just because I’m hurt doesn’t mean you have to help,” you sigh, as you urge him to turn so you can clean his back next, the sight of his tattoo on his back unsurprising now as you continue to clean it. 

“Doesn’t mean you don’t have to either,” he gives a soft chuckle, “what’s your goal here sweetheart?” You urge him to turn again, as you begin to clean the blood from his arms. 

“Do I need to have a goal?” And he turns to face you, leaning even closer, as his black locks fall in his eyes. 

“Everyone has one — didn’t you have one for coming in here?” And your hesitation is all the answers he needs, “curious about what’s going on with those people after you, huh?” 

There wasn’t any use lying now, “Wouldn’t you be?” 

“I would be, but I wouldn’t get caught, now would I?” and you scoff, as his lips curl, “we have been tracking the group that we suspect has the heiress, and we have been interrogating the people that you and Satoru secured,” ‘secured’ — more like nearly murdered by the way Satoru acted. 

“And where were you?” 

He sighed, “Dealing with some loose ends — and some other business that my father had me deal with,” and he adds, “I had to make sure a message got out — so no one would ever attack you like that again,”

And why does your heart squeeze at the thought, “Why are you so willing to tell me?” And your hands begin to clean and wipe his palms. And you set the washcloth down, beginning to bandage some of the larger cuts and wounds, and his fingers intertwined with yours, as you glance up. 

“Because you deserve the truth,” he shrugs, “and even if I lie, you’ll figure it out, so why not tell you to begin with?” And he leans even closer, fingers skimming your cheek, “plus I don’t keep secrets from my future wife,” 

“I’m not marrying you,” but you don’t pull away, as he’s even closer now. 

“Well, you said never before — and I’ve worn you down to a ‘not’ — it’s only a matter of time,” and his words make you want you to pull away, to scoff at his words and leave, but you don’t. 

Why can’t you? 

“And I thought Satoru was the one full of himself—“ and his lips find yours, his kiss was more insistent, his fingers find your jaw, featherlight before it finds purchase on the back of your neck. You could taste the faint taste of blood, lingering on his lips, 

“And you also thought Satoru was a good kisser,” he smirks, as his lips ghost down your jaw, nose brushing against your cheek, as you pause — how did he— “well now you know what a good kisser is actually like,” 

Your eyebrows knit together, “Geto—” 

“Suguru,” he corrects you, he tilts his head, his thumb cupping your chin, and your lips find the other’s, his forehead pressed to yours. Then his phone rings, and the moment’s broken. He pulls away just as fast, as he turns to answer his phone, “Hello?” he listens, a man’s voice on the other end, “I understand, okay.” and the call ends, as he offers a smile to you, “I have to deal with some business, but I’ll be back later. And then it looks like I’ll be your escort while Satoru is away.” 

“What business—” but he’s brushing past you, going to his wardrobe to grab a fresh shirt, buttoning it swiftly, before pulling on another jacket, as he turns to glance at you over his shoulder. 

“You know better than to ask me that,”

“But you said you would be honest,” and he shrugs his shoulders, a smirk on his lips, as he heads out of the room. 

“I didn’t say when.” 

~~~~

“We have to tell her,” Satoru stood, hands in his pockets, leaning against the wall of the compound. Suguru clicks his lighter again, flicking it on and off — he had quit a few months ago when you had told him that you hated the smell. And he didn’t miss it, but he still carried the lighter — old habits die hard, “the pictures we got — they are getting better at tracking her without us noticing. And these other fires we’re being sent out to deal with — it’s leaving us with less time to protect her,”

“Do you have to?” Suguru asked, flicking his lighter closer, the silver outside glinting in the low light of the moon, “isn’t it safer for her to stay in the dark for now?” 

“Staying in the dark doesn’t mean she won’t put herself in danger one way or another without us knowing,” Satoru shrugs, “she said even if I had sent her home that day that those men were after her, she would have came after me,” 

Suguru gives a terse chuckle, “I don’t doubt that she would,” he sighs, gaze towards the inky darkness of the sky, dotted with faint stars that he couldn’t see but knew were there — just as these threats were, “if she found out that her grandfather was threatened too? There’s no way she would wait,” 

“So what do we do?” Satoru scratched the back of his head, “we could send her back home — she might be safer there than here,” 

“Her grandfather told us—“ 

“I know, but what choice do we have, Suguru?” he sighs, and Suguru can’t help but quirk his lips. 

“You know if we do this, we may have to fight her grandfather to stay engaged with her,” And Satoru smiles, shrugging. 

“I know, but we can handle it, can’t we?” Satoru leans back, “we’ll just have to fight him on it. Why? Are you afraid?”  

Suguru gives a short chuckle, “Since when have you known me to be afraid of anything?” And he turns his gaze towards the door, “so when should we tell her?” 

But they don’t notice that you’re pressed against the door, your fists clenched. And they were right about one thing — you wouldn’t wait. 

~~~~

CRACK! 

Fuck, your eyes burned as you tried to open them, the sharp pain in the back of your head radiating all over, as your eyelids refused to open. What happened? You tried to hold your head, only to have your wrists strain against something rough — rope? The fibers dig into your wrists as you try to stand, only to find them bound to something else. 

“Finally awake?” it was a woman’s voice — and your eyes still can’t quite open — fuck, this wasn’t part of your plan, “take your time, they said they wanted you in pristine condition so I can’t have you falling apart on me later on,” she scoffs, her footsteps receding away, and you could hear the quiet murmurs of other voices — men, by the baritone. 

Your eyes burned as you adjusted to opening them, still fighting the urge to flutter them shut under the pain. The dim light swung overhead, a warehouse from the bare floors and even barer walls and ceilings overhead, barely illuminated in the flickering exposed lightbulbs hanging over the middle of the room. 

“Where am I?” You choked out, voice wavering in a way that made you want to grit your teeth and chide yourself for the fear that seeped into your words. 

The quiet click of heels came closer, “Don’t recognize me? Well I suppose you never did see my face in person,” and you knit your brows together as she stepped closer, leaning in far too near for your comfort, “I should thank you for your efforts in trying to find out what happened to me. It made it far easier to kidnap you,” 

Her hazel eyes were even more startling in person. 

“The Akawaza heiress,” you stare at her — her hair had grown a little past her shoulders now, ends slightly curling at them, “I thought—“ 

“I was missing? I was,” her lips curled, running her sharp lacquered nails through her black locks, “but it was my choice,” the screech of chair legs scraping against the floor makes you flinch ever so slightly, as she sits in front of you, her legs crossed, “I’m being rude — how is your grandfather?” 

“Fuck off,” you spit, and she clicks her tongue. 

“And here I thought you had manners, but I suppose the city’s changed you, little princess?” she hums, leaning back, wood of the chair creaking as she did, “or maybe your boyfriends did,” you say nothing, scoffing, as she sighs, “or knowing your grandfather, you probably didn’t have any to begin with,” 

Rage fills your veins, lava bursting from them as the venom leaves your lips, “Don’t talk about my grandfather like that—” 

“Why shouldn’t I? You never cared for the yakuza before, right? Is your grandfather not included in that equation? Or maybe it was because he kept what he did behind closed doors, and never bothered to tell you the truth,” and you’re not fast enough to stop your brow from furrowing, and she latches onto it, “Oh he didn’t tell you, did he?” 

“You really love the sound of your own voice, don’t you?” you murmur, and she laughs at your remark, her nails clicking against the forearm of the chair — lacquer on wood that began to grate on your nerves, “can you get to the point of all this shit? Why the fuck am I here?” 

“Because your grandfather is picking and choosing who he favors — and so I decided to take his heart, and I’ll only give her back if he gives me what I want — ” and then you see the way her lips curl and her jaw is cut, and it occurs to you. 

Your grandfather had said he was a heartbreaker. 

“You’re his granddaughter,” and she smirks, her nails falling still. 

“Do you see the family resemblance?” she leans against her hand, elbow against the arm of her chair, “it would be nice to meet you — if I didn’t have to possibly kill you,” 

“So you want to be the heiress? I never wanted to be one in the first place—” 

“Do you think that matters?” she scoffs, “what matters is the choice your grandfather makes —  and he’s chosen you — with no regard for the other children he has had,” her gaze falls downward, “do you know what it is like to watch your mother vye for the approval of someone who never truly cared for her in the first place?” 

Your gaze falls downward, “I don’t know,” you admit, “but is all this worth this? What do you think he will even do for me?” 

“He’ll meet my demands, and each hour he doesn’t, he’ll get another finger of yours,” she pulls a knife out, the blade glinting in the dim light, as she rises to her feet, your body straining back as she draws close to you, running the flat of the blade down your cheek, “should I start with your left hand or right?” she pulls the blade back, and you smile, “what—” 

And you lean your head back and smash your head against her own. The crack of your skulls colliding rung in your ears, along with the knife clattering to the ground, as you felt warm droplets ran down your face, and she stumbles back, clutching at her forehead, scarlet staining her face and fingers, “It’s funny you think that I came to you without a plan — how do you think I found you?” 

“It wasn’t on her own,” and a hand on her shoulder, before she’s pinned to the floor. Satoru’s eyes slide to you, a smile on his lips, as she’s struggling, trying to look for her men, “looking for your goons? Suguru has taken care of them by now, unless he needs my help,” 

“Akari isn’t the only one who likes to hear herself talk,” Suguru runs his fingers through his hair, “Satoru, you haven’t even untied her,” his footsteps echoing as he approaches you, bending down to pick up Akari’s knife. 

“A little busy at the moment, Suguru,” Gojo has Akari pinned with one hand, “unless you’d like her to get away,” and Suguru shrugs, as he slips the knife under your restraints and cuts them off, “are you doing alright, sweetheart?” 

“I’m fine, just my head’s aching,” and Suguru pulls a cloth from his pocket, wiping the blood from your face, your eyes closing and nose wrinkling as he does, “did you call my grandfather?” 

“Yeah, I don’t have a death wish,” Satoru replies as he hauls Akari up and hands her off to his associate to take her. 

You get to shaky feet, “Hold on,” you walk over, grabbing Akari by the front of her blouse, silk wrinkling under your grasp, “fuck with me or my family again, and I won’t be so lenient,” you shove her off, and then you add, “but I’ll talk to my grandfather about some sort of possible arrangement for your mother,” 

And then you wave the yakuza off and they take her away — assuredly to Kyoto to be dealt with by her grandfather. 

“Are you really going to talk to your grandfather about her?” Suguru asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“It’s the least he could do since he caused me to be targeted,” you grumble, rubbing your wrists, as Satoru takes his suit coat off and places it around your shoulders, before a smirk pulls at your lips. 

Suguru tilts his head, smiling, “Well, how would he feel if he knew you got kidnapped on purpose?” And you shrug. 

“He doesn’t need to know that.” 

~~~

“I’m surprised you guys agreed to my plan,” you hiss as Satoru takes a damp cloth to clean the dried blood from your face, while Suguru is knelt, bandaging your ankles — their rough and bruised hands somehow still gentle, “I thought you would never let me wander into danger,” 

“Well, we knew we had to do something when we realized you were listening to us, didn’t we, Princess?” Satoru snorted, and you could hear the smile gracing his features — even with your eyes shut — “and this was the best way to ensure you weren’t hurt,” 

“Relatively,” Suguru adds, as he finishes bandaging one ankle, “did she do anything else to you?” 

And Satoru’s hand pauses as they both wait for your answer, and you shake your head, “No,” and Satoru pulls the washcloth away, your eyes fluttering open to meet two skeptical gazes, “really, I’m fine,” your lips curl after the two of them look away, Satoru turning to grab a bag of ice for your forehead, while Suguru busied himself with bandaging your other ankle, “is this threat the reason my grandfather sent me to Tokyo?” 

The timing had lined up — Akari had started the threats not a few months before — after she had reached legal age, the perfect age to contend for the position of successor to her grandfather. And by sending you here, your grandfather thought he was putting you out of immediate danger — but he didn’t know Akari would make her way to Tokyo. 

“More or less,” Satoru sighed, as you flinched when he pressed the ice pack to your head, the condensation from the bag already clinging and dripping down your face, “the geezer wanted to find the source of the threats against you—and by sending you here, to your potential fiancés—“ 

“I would be safe protected twofold by two of the biggest families—“ and you blink, pulling the ice pack away from your face, “the engagements — that’s why they were leaked — it was to protect me,” you mumble, “so that means—“ 

“You can go home if you want, Princess,” Suguru says, looking up at you, expression as inscrutable as it always was, “the engagements were only pretense,” 

“You both knew?” And Satoru sighs, scratching the back of his head, and why does it feel as if his nails are carving out a piece of your heart. 

“The old coot swore us to secrecy, we didn’t have—“ 

“But, everything, the two of you…the engagement—it’s over,” you say slowly, gaze falling downward. You should be happy, relieved, thrilled — you could go home, what you wanted to do from the start. You could get your own apartment or transfer to a different university—and leave this behind, a bad dream washed away by the events of a new day. So why? 

Why did it hurt? 

“Don’t tell me you’ll actually miss us, sweetheart?” Satoru teased, a force more than anything — bittersweet worded coated in a sugary sarcasm, “because I very well may propose here and now,” 

You almost scoff, but Suguru beats you to it. 

“A proposal now? Seems like finishing early isn’t what you just do in bed, Satoru,” Suguru scoffs, as Satoru shoots a glare over his sunglasses, “she’s only eager to get home now isn’t she? "If she isn’t so eager,” he adds, “then she would stop the one she wants from leaving her room, wouldn’t she?” 

And Suguru is slowly getting to his feet, while Satoru also turns to leave — and you don’t think—but you were sure that you truly hadn’t thought a single sane thought since you had arrived in Tokyo—

You grab at the fabric of both their shirts, fingers clutching at it, as your lips curled when they glanced back at you. 

“Who said either of you could leave?”

~~~

“You’re going to have to use your words,” you murmured, fingers ghosting Satoru’s jaw, a delightful shiver parting his lips as you smiled at him, sat spread at the edge of your bed, “what do you want?” You stepped closer, between his legs, daring even closer. 

“Sweetheart, you know what I—“ and a low groan leaves his throat as your fingers slide to the nape of his neck to tug at his snowy locks, “please—“ 

“I know you love this,” you murmur, leaning to press a kiss to his throat, smiling against his skin, “you said you wanted me to hurt you, so it looks like you’re getting your wish,” your eyes slide to the other, sat in a chair, “I know you like to watch, Suguru, so you must be enjoying yourself,” and you’re further unbuttoning Satoru’s shirt all the same — crisp white button up definitely creased and wrinkled as it fell open, tugged out from his slacks. 

Suguru’s fingers flexed against the grain of the wood of the armrests, his muscles taut, his lips a tight line that only matched the fabric of his slacks straining against his erection. The corner of his mouth twitches, and you smirk. 

“I didn’t hear an answer, Suguru,” and you’re placing another kiss on Satoru’s neck, a whine leaving his throat, while your eyes find Suguru’s amethyst gaze darkened to nearly black, his knuckles white against the wood, as you lean down to lick a stripe up Satoru’s neck, who bites his bottom lip. 

“I’d enjoy it even more if I could touch you, or me,” Suguru adds through gritted teeth, “Princess—“ 

And you click your tongue, “You had such patience when you were watching me sleep — so where’s that patience now?” Your fingers graze Satoru’s erection through his slacks, and his head is falling back, as Suguru shifts in his seat, not so subtly adjusting himself. 

You undo Satoru’s belt, unbuckling it with ease, as his cock slaps against his stomach, and you didn’t know it was possible for a dick to be pretty, but Satoru’s was — a deep flush settled over it, pearly beads of precum dripping from the ruby tip. And a distinct heat begins to throb between your thighs. 

“You can touch yourself,” you tell Suguru, his legs twitching to get up, “but you can’t cum until I tell you can,” you run a finger up Satoru’s cock, teasing the weeping tip, a groan leaving the snowy haired man’s lips, “strip, Suguru,” 

And he does, you hear the click of his belt, the sound of fabric rustling, as your fingers tease the slit of Satoru’s cock, gathering precum on your fingers, drawing a grunt from his lips. You can hear the distinct sound of Suguru spitting in his palm, his hand beginning to work at his own cock. 

“Both s’good for me,” you murmur, as you stroke Satoru’s cock in earnest, the quiet moans from both their mouths sending a ribbon of need to your already dripping cunt, “can’t wait to fuck you both, make you my toys,” and you’re pressing a kiss to Satoru’s tip, his pretty, pink lips parting, as his head rolls back again, “but you’d both like that wouldn’t you? Maybe I shouldn’t let either of you cum, make you beg me all night,” as your tongue traces his lovely vein up the side of his cock, “what do you think, Toru?” And your mouth finally closes around his dick, sucking hard that draws a hiss from his lips, fingers fisted in the sheets. 

And Suguru isn’t doing much better, the sounds of his hand squelching and the moans leaving his lips growing louder and louder. 

“Please, Princess, I’m close, I can’t—“ and you click your tongue, a pout on your lips, as you pull away your touch, “baby, I—“ 

“Can’t let either of you cum so fast,” your eyes slide to Suguru, his cheeks flushed a lovely pink that reaches even his ears, as his hand slows, his cock twitching in his fingers, “gotta make you earn it. It’s only right after all the shit you put me through right?” 

It’s a cycle, a cycle of you bringing them both to the edge of orgasm, only to tell them to stop. Their sweat slicked brows wrinkled, as you worked them up once again and again and again — you had lost track of how many times. 

“Please, please, sweetheart,” and you knew you could get Satoru to beg, but you didn’t think it would be this easy, and you let his dick brush against your throat, as you let him fuck your throat, hips jerking, “fuuuuck, I need to—” 

And you’re pulling your lips from his cock with a pop, glancing at Suguru whose black locks are beginning to come loose from their neat bun, more of a mess now than he had been fighting yakuza earlier, and all because of you. 

“Suguru? Wanna cum?” you ask, smirking as his gaze raises to meet yours, a desperate look that tells you everything you need to know, “be a good boy and tell me,” 

He swallows, adam’s apple bobbing, as pre drips down his knuckles, “fuck, Princess,” he’s shaking his head, “ I want to cum, please — I need—” 

And your lips curl, “cum for me,” you murmur before you’re wrapping your lips around Satoru again, his tip brushing against your throat, sucking hard, his fingers finding purchase in your hair. And he’s cumming hard, his hot release slides down your throat, nails digging into your scalp, nearly never ending — even as you pull away, his cum paints your face and lips, and drips onto your clothes. His cerulean eyes glazed as he looked down at you between his legs, a string of spit and cum connecting you to his cock. 

And Suguru was no better. He had cum hard all over his hand and the floor, his cock still somehow half hard, his body slumped back in the chair, as his chest heaved. His hair tie had long fallen away, his long black locks brushing against his shoulders. 

You lick your lips clean of Satoru’s cum, wiping the rest away with the back of your hand, “Made such a mess,” you tsk, as you get to your feet, slipping off your shorts and shirt, before leaning down to kiss Satoru, and he’s still sensitive by the way he jolts against your touch, before melting into it, his tongue parted your lips with ease. And fuck, you hoped he couldn’t see how wet you were — nearly dripping down your thighs at this point. 

And you’re pulling away, your thumb dragging down his lips, as his teeth try to catch the finger between them, but you’re too quick. You turn, a smile on your lips, you make your way over to Suguru. 

You’re wiping up the mess on the floor with your shirt before kneeling, “made such a mess, Sugu,” and he’s staring at you through half lidded eyes, his fingers brushing your cheek, “did I say you could touch me?” 

“You never said I couldn’t,” he murmurs, and god, his voice is far gone, raw and nearly guttural, as his fingers found purchase in your hair, “and I think I earned it after your little performance—“ and he hisses when you lean in, tip of your tongue teasing his slit and licking the dripping cum off his half hard cock, “fuck—“ 

“Not yet,” you smiled, as you started to lick his cock clean of his cum, “but maybe if you’re good,” he grunts as you sink is cock into your mouth, tongue swirling around his length, licking and sucking — and fuck, he was already twitching in your mouth. 

And then he’s easing you off his dick with a tug of your hair, and you’re glancing up at him, a question on the tip of your tongue, but he’s swallowing it with a kiss, as his hands slip down your body to haul you nearly into his lap. Calloused palms find their way to your hips, squeezing lightly, as he pulls away, cupping your chin with his thumb. 

“Suguru—” and you yelp as he picks you up with ease, placing you in Satoru’s lap whose hands wind their way around your waist, his fingers already beginning to tease your hardened buds through your bra, a gasp leaving your lips, as Suguru placed his on your neck with a smirk as he murmurs:

 “Let me show you how good we can be, sweetheart.” 

~~~~

“Tell us what you want, princess,” Satoru murmured in your ear, his warm breath doing nothing to help the needy heat between your thighs, the one that Suguru was knelt between, his large palms spreading you before him, “is she as wet as I think, Suguru?” 

And Suguru catches your gaze, a wicked smile on his lips as he replies, “Wetter, she’s a mess, aren’t you?” you bite your lip to stop a whimper from leaving your lips as his fingers graze the growing wet patch on your panties. And your squirming only makes Satoru grunt, his erection pressed against you, the friction doing little to help either of you. 

“Fuckers,” and Satoru clicks his tongue, a smile on his lips as he turns your head. 

“Think I have a better use for that mouth of yours, sweetheart,” and his lips find yours, right as Suguru toys with the elastic of your panties, snapping it against your skin, Satoru swallows the small noise that escapes your lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth as it does. 

And god, you already can’t even think straight. 

Satoru’s fingers are pushing up your bra, teasing your nipples, as Suguru pressing a kiss to your dripping cunt through your soaked underwear. 

“So pretty,” Suguru murmurs, and Satoru’s lips part from yours, gaze darkening as he drags his thumb down your kiss ruined lips, and he tugs your drenched panties down, “and your cunt is even prettier, isn’t it princess?” 

And you were — your gorgeous pussy was glossy with your pre, dripping all over his fingers when he parts your messy folds, “Bet she’s even tighter, isn’t she?” Satoru murmurs, as his dick twitches against your ass, “

You whine as his words warm your aching pussy, your eyes flickering downwards, as Suguru’s lips graze your inner thigh, and you already know Satoru’s pouting. 

“You’re taking your goddamn time, Suguru, when do I get my chance?” He grumbles, nose brushing against your neck, as you can’t help but chuckle. 

“You got your turn, and now it’s time for you to watch,” and your giggle turns to a soft gasp when his lips press a kiss to your clit, “and sweetheart, can’t wait to see how you’ll punish me for this later — because I’m not stopping until you beg me to,”

Your lips part with a reply, but he pulls a moan from your lips instead as his tongue drags up the length of your weeping entrance. God, fuck, how did you taste this good? His tongue flicked against your puffy clit, drawing lazy circles, your slick already drenching his chin and lips. 

“So fucking good, baby, s’good f’me,” and your fingers are threading their way into his dark locks, pulling him even closer, his lips closing around your clit to suck, “could live in this pretty cunt,” he grunts, the tip of his tongue teasing your entrance. 

Your head falls against Satoru’s shoulders, a groan fell from his lips as his cock dragged against your ass, your slick drenching his thighs and cock alike, “can’t wait to sink my cock into you, fuck,” Satoru murmurs, the wet squelch of your cunt rang in his ears, and he could imagine how wet and warm you’d be once he sunk into you, inch by inch. 

And he couldn’t wait — he needed to do something. 

Satoru’s fingers found their way down your body, tweaking your nipple before one large palm dragged slowly down your front, until he found your clit right above Suguru’s face. 

“Toru,” you gasp, as his fingers pinch your clit and Suguru glares, pulling his lips away for a moment, only to sink a finger back in insteas, drawing a moan from your lips, “Sugu—fuck—“ 

And it’s too much, one more touch and you’re cumming, body falling back into Satoru, as Suguru fucks you through your orgasm. Your release runs down their fingers, as Satoru lifts his hand a moment to lick his fingers clean. 

God, you’re too pretty for your own good, Satoru’s eyes drag over you — your kiss ruined lips, skin shiny from your sweat, and the way your eyes were lost in an endless pool of lust. 

“Suguru was right, you’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” Satoru grin, gently turning your head, and you’re panting, nose wrinkling ever so slightly at his words, and he tuts, “don’t believe me? Well I can fix that,” and his lips find yours again, letting you taste yourself, swallowing your moans, as Suguru continued to finger fuck you. 

Suguru’s finger stretches you open, fluttering, knuckle deep, as your precum drips down his fingers. 

“Remember who’s fucking this cunt, sweetheart,” and Suguru is, another finger parting your needy folds, and between Satoru rubbing your clit and Suguru’s fingers curling to find that one spot, drags against your insides, “fuck, how are we going to fit, Satoru? She’s still so tight,” Suguru grunts. 

You pull your lips from Satoru’s, a whine leaving your lips, “More, please, I need—“ and a third finger joins the other two — but it’s not Suguru’s. 

“Fuck, you’re so fucking soft,” Satoru groans, pressing soft kisses to your skin, only serving to make you keen at their touch, and your walls flutter around their fingers. 

“Fuck, we’re trying to fuck her open and she just keeps getting tighter,” Suguru grunts, while Satoru’s lips find your earlobe, sucking, just as he adds another finger, a moan escaping your lips again. 

Suguru’s fingers fuck at a steady pace, fucking deeper and deeper, while Satoru’s are faster, pistoning in and out while dragging against your walls — and it’s not long until they are working you up to a second orgasm, it’s too fucking good — and they both find that spot in you that has you seeing stars. 

“I’m g’nna—” and Satoru finds your lips in a sloppy kiss, saliva slipping from the corner of your mouth. And you cum, even harder, your swollen folds clamping down on their fingers as they continue to fuck you unendingly through your orgasm. Your lips pull away, only to moan their names, again and again, until they finally slow down. 

“Good girl,” Suguru murmurs, pressing sweet kisses to your thighs, while you come down from your high, walls flutter around nothing at the praise, while Satoru nips at your neck right above your racing pulse. And your eyes find Suguru lazily palming his weeping erection, as you lift your bare foot to rub against it, making him hiss, while you rub against Satoru teasingly. 

“Don’t forget who’s in control,” you kiss Satoru again, before biting his bottom lip, and he’s melting into your touch, “and, you were good,” your foot rubs against Suguru’s cock again, drawing another pretty groan from his lips, “but now it’s time to be obedient.” 

And they are — as you have Satoru sit back against the pillow lined headboard, because if it was anything you knew now — Satoru loved to be controlled, while Suguru liked the illusion of control, even if he didn’t have even a bit of it. So you have Suguru kneeling behind you, as you climb into Satoru’s lap, a small groan leaving his lips as your cunt grazes his hard cock. 

“Such a good boy, aren’t you, Toru?” your fingers run through his hair — and god, his undercut was so fucking hot, as your fingers found his cock, letting the tip tease your soaked folds, as you line yourself up, “tell me what you want,” 

“Fuck, princess, y’know what I want,” and a whine leaves his throat when you let his tip sink into you, only to pull out. 

“Come on, nothing else to say? You always love running that mouth, don’t you? You wanted this, wanted me to ruin you, didn’t you? Well here we are,” you hum, as you press a teasing kiss to the corner of his mouth, “beg me,” 

And his dick twitches, painfully hard, and the words spill from his lips, “Please, please, sweetheart, use me, use my cock as a toy, want you to fuck me so bad, make me yours—” and you’re sinking onto his cock, his length parting your folds, as moans fall from both of your lips. And he bottoms out, your hips meeting his as you do, and you can feel every vein, every ridge, every inch notched inside your walls. 

“Toru, fuck, s’good, s’big,” it feels too fucking good, and he’s so long — god, he was brushing against places you never even dreamed of reaching. And your pussy clenched at the thought of how deep he would go when he would start thrusting. 

“Sure you have space for me, Princess?” Suguru leans back over to press kisses all over your face, before finding your lips in a heated kiss, “might be too tight of a fit,” his nose brushing against your cheek. 

“I’ll make you fit,” you murmur against his lips, your hands against Satoru’s chest, as you shift to cup his chin, “get behind me, Sugu,” 

Suguru smirks, slipping behind you, pressing himself against your back, dragging his cock teasingly against you, “So needy — you’re worse than Satoru,” and Satoru makes a noise of protest, but your walls flutter, making his back arch, “want me inside you, sweetheart?” And his tip teases at your entrance, brushing against Satoru’s cock, causing all three of you to moan, “tell me how much you want us to fuck you, how much you want both of us inside you,” 

“Fucker, I swear to god,” you turn your head, your glare undercut by the desperation on your face, “just fuck me— 

And Suguru sinks into you, your head falling back against him, as both of their cocks stretch your cunt out. You were so fucking full. And the way your walls clenched around them was nearly enough to make them cum. Their groans come in unison. 

“Fuck, Princess, you don’t have to break our dicks off — we’ll fuck you again,” Suguru grunts, his rough palms sliding to your hips to squeeze them. 

“S’good, sweetheart, so fucking right for us,” and you can’t think straight with the two of them inside of you, and you’re moaning. 

“Please, move—“ and they oblige, beginning to fuck you. You moved against Satoru, riding him as best you can, while Suguru fucked you from behind, his balls slapping against your ass. 

Suguru drives into you at a steady pace, causing you to rock against Satoru, your hips pressed against his, as they both drive deeper and deeper into your wet cunt. 

“S’good, so pretty,” Suguru presses sweet kisses to your neck, while Satoru’s eyes flutter open to meet yours, “I’m close, Satoru—“ 

“Me too,” Satoru manages, and his hips begin to meet your thrusts, “you gonna cum for us princess?” And he finds your gaze, the fucked out expression enough to nearly make him cum right there. 

A whine leaves your lips, as they continue to fuck you, and you know you’re so close. And then they find that spot in you again, and you’re falling apart, lips parted in a moan, both their names on your lips. You clamp down on them, toes curling as you cum, and neither of them can last. Their hips stutter as they give sloppy thrusts, until they both cum, 

They groan your name as they spurt their thick cum inside, notching themselves as deep as they could, continuing to fuck their cum inside you with messy thrusts. 

A whimper escapes your lips between pants, as your arms and legs shake from your position, utterly fucked out. You three stay like that for a moment, both of their sweet nothings they murmur to you falling on deaf ears.

And then finally they are shifting you onto the bed, pressing soft kisses to your face and neck, as your eyes flutter shut. There’s shifting on the bed, as one of them leaves for a moment, and you make a noise, only to be reassured that he’ll be right back. 

Your eyes finally flutter open to find Satoru and Suguru cleaning you up with a wet washcloth, and your gaze finds both of their own. Your lips curl at the sight of them, their gentle gaze enough to make your heart ache. 

“Come back,” you whine, and they both chuckle, as they begin to finish drying you off, before tossing the washcloth into the wastebasket, and crawling back beside you. They help you pull a shirt on, before settling in. 

“So needy,” Satoru murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead, even as he buries his face in your chest, his warm breath tickling you as you run your fingers softly through his white locks. And Suguru presses himself to your back, pressing a soft kiss to your neck, his arm around your waist, and yours resting on top of his. 

“What will we do with her?” Suguru mutters, and you can hear the smirk in his tone. 

“Shut up,” you mumble, your eyes beginning to feel heavy, as you give into the warmth that enveloped you from their bodies, as it lulled you to sleep. And your lips curled into a smile, a smile that had you wondering right before you slipped into sleep—

When was it that you fell for them? 

~~~~

You couldn’t do this. Not to them. 

That’s what you had decided come morning — waking up between entangled limbs and soft breaths against your skin — how could you? You felt Satoru shift closer to you, as you leaned into his touch, running your fingers through Suguru’s black locks. You were addicted to their touch only after one night, and now you had to spend the rest of your life without it. 

It was the only way. 

This whole thing was ridiculous to begin with — you never cared to be involved in the yakuza to begin with. You wanted a normal life — or at least as normal of a life you could have with who your grandfather was. You had never expected to end up wrapped up in all of this — and in both of them. 

But you didn’t know if you could choose between them — and you knew, you had to. It wasn’t fair to either of them — not when they had asked you to choose last night and they had indulged you in both of them. And now, you didn’t want to let either of them go. 

So you had to let both of them go. 

You shifted slowly to sit up, Your fingers traced Satoru’s cheek lightly, as you toyed with a strand of Suguru’s hair. They both still stayed fast asleep, quiet snores filling the silence of the early morning, deep in the embrace of sleep after the events of last night and the last few weeks. You didn’t want to be someone like your grandfather — you didn’t know what you wanted and that was enough of an answer wasn’t it?

The two shift in their sleep, and your body grows heavy, your back still aching from last night, as you lie back down beside them, running your fingers over both of their arms. 

Even if you had your answer, you didn’t have to face it for another few hours. And their bodies shifted, Satoru burying his face in the nape of your neck, while you rested against Suguru’s chest. This was enough — enough to last you a lifetime, wasn’t it? Your eyes fluttered shut, sinking slowly back to sleep. You had told your grandfather you’d break their hearts — 

—but you didn’t know you would be breaking yours as well. 

~~~

“What do you mean she’s gone?” Satoru narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms, as Suguru stepped aside to show the empty room you had left behind — a bare husk with nothing left behind, not even a note. 

It had been a day. 

When Satoru had woken up beside you, he could have sworn he was still dreaming, even as he grazed your skin gently with the back of his knuckles, he still couldn’t quite believe it. And when he spotted Suguru pressing kisses to your cheek, he knew it was real. 

“How long have you been awake?” Satoru raised an eyebrow, “it’s not fair to have your fun while we were asleep,” 

And Suguru rolled his eyes, as he rubbed the back of his knuckles gently against her cheek, “I just woke up, and all I did was kiss her, you idiot,” 

“Not fair, that means I have to kiss her too,” Satoru murmurs, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead and cheek, and one even to your nose. Your nose wrinkles in your sleep, and Satoru’s lips quirk upwards, “she’s so exhausted from last night still,” 

“She is,” Suguru hums, as he tilts his head, “what are we going to do about last night?” 

Satoru pauses a moment to consider, “Well, what is there to discuss? She chose us both, didn’t she?” Satoru leaned close to you, to press a kiss to your head. 

“She did,” Suguru props himself up with his elbow on his side, “I thought you weren’t one to share,” 

And Satoru shrugged — he wasn’t one to share, he wanted what was his to be his alone, but with you — the more people to protect you, the better, “If it’s what makes her happy, I don’t mind,” and he adds, “and I don’t mind if it’s you that I’m sharing with,” 

Suguru raises an eyebrow, a chuckle on his lips, “Is that so? Well, good,” as he runs a finger through your hair, “because I feel the same.” 

But Satoru supposed you didn’t. 

“When did she—“ 

“My father told me she contacted her grandfather this morning, and let them know she was leaving — and her single request was to send us away on business so we wouldn’t be able to stop her,” and Satoru gives a bitter chuckle. 

“So that’s it?” Satoru crosses his arms, “why did she—“ and he cuts himself off, “have you tried to call—“ 

“I’m blocked, I assume you are too,” Suguru shook his head, a silence settling over the two of them that Satoru chose to break. 

“Do we go after her?” And Suguru pauses, his brow wrinkling a moment, before he sighs, shaking his head. 

“If she comes back, it has to be her choice,” Suguru slid his hands into his pockets, “otherwise, we’re back to square one,” and he adds, “and I don’t think I can go back after last night.” 

Suguru steps away, heading back down the hallway, and Satoru follows. 

No, Satoru thinks, sparing one glance at the empty room, before pulling the door shut, neither could he. 

~~~

“Why did you come back?” You set another box down, wiping the sweat from your brow, your grandfather simply watching as you brought your things back into your room. 

“What a warm welcome,” you scoff, as you head back out to pick up another — the other staff had offered to help, but you had waved them off, lifting another box, your back still aching — and now you were starting to regret it. But you knew if you didn’t do something to distract yourself — your phone taunting you on the top of your desk — you’d do something you’d regret. 

And you’d already filled your quota for the next six months at least. 

“Don’t get me wrong, kid,” the geezer sighed, as he watched you bring the last of the boxes in, “I’m glad you’re back and the matters are all settled — but,” he tilts his head, “you seem more miserable than before,” 

“I’m just tired,” you reply, but his furrowed brow says he’s unconvinced, as you grab a box cutter and begin to open up the boxes, beginning to sort through your things, “and still trying to wrap my head around the fact you lied to me,” 

And he sighs, “this isn’t about me right now — it’s about you—“ 

“How convenient,” you mutter under your breath. 

“You’re in love, aren’t you?” And you can’t help but freeze for a moment, until you force yourself to continue unpacking, pulling out some of your clothes from the box, “which one is it?” 

The question stabs between your ribs like a well thrust sword between the ribs, finding the center of the problem — along with your heart. 

“Gramps—” 

“So it’s both of them?” and you whirl on him, your eyes narrowing, and he chuckles, holding up his hand, “I didn’t spy — I just took a guess,” he sighed, as he pulled out your desk chair and took a seat in it, “and it looks like I was right,” 

You swallow, your eyes falling to the floor, “I didn’t cheat, if that’s what—” 

He laughs, “I know you aren’t like me, little one,” he leans back in the chair, hands folded in his lap, “you aren’t one to lie — because I know there’s more you hate than liars,” and his gaze grows a little sadder, “And I’m sorry I had to become one of them,” 

You grit your teeth, “I’m not mad at you — I’m just—” you choose your words carefully — because you’re angry, you were upset — upset that he felt as if he couldn’t trust you, “wondering why you didn’t tell me the truth,” 

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, “My past isn’t something I’m proud of, and I wanted to deal with it without involving you,” he sighed, “after everything with our family — I didn’t want to give you another reason to distance yourself from me,” 

“Lying to me isn’t a better option than that,” he rubs the back of his head, “you have to make it right for Akari and her mother — as well as if you have any other kids—I don’t need to know,” you add, when he opens his mouth, “it isn’t fair to them,” and it would be no fairer to not choose between Satoru and Suguru. 

“You’re right,” he raises a brow, “is that the problem? You can’t choose between the two of them, eh?” and your gaze refuses to meet his, “have you talked to them about it?” and your silence serves as an answer, “then I think you should take your own advice and talk to them about it,” 

“What will that do?” you murmur, “they still will want me to choose—” 

“Do you know that for a fact?” he crosses his arms, “I think you owe it to them and to yourself to talk to them, and to your grandfather who can’t stand to see you this miserable at home,” 

“Do you think it will change anything?” and he shrugs. 

“Maybe it will or maybe it won’t,” he tilts his head, as he pulls out his phone to call you a car, “but if it’s a chance for you to be happy, isn’t it worth taking?” 

~~~~

“I want to marry you both,” 

And again, your statement is met with confused stares, as you had all but pulled up to their compound and entered to find them seated together discussing business in a side room — and their stares were still anything but average — but to you now, they meant so much more. 

“Not marry you right now, but maybe eventually,” adrenaline was surely pumping through your system, right? That’s probably why your hands were shaking and your mouth was dry, but even so you knew you needed to say it before they spoke, “I’m sorry for leaving the way I did. I told myself after we first met I wouldn’t be a coward, but I was when I ran away, and I don’t have any excuse,” you swallowed, “but I know what I want — and I want both of you, as selfish as that feels,” guilt crawled up your throat at the statement of that sentence, as if begging you to swallow the words that spilled from your lips back up, “and I don’t know how either of you feel — but if we were to do this, I would want us to be honest and—” 

And the screech of their chairs takes you aback, and you felt your cheeks burn, was this it? 

But instead of brushing past you, they stand in front of you, one of them tilting your head upwards to meet their gazes. 

“Took you long enough, sweetheart,” Satoru’s lips curled, his hand cupping your cheek, “I know we said we wanted you to hurt us, but not like that,”

“Sent us away just to ghost us,” Suguru clicked his tongue, his fingers still under your chin, “I’ll have to plant a tracker on you again,” 

You shake your head, “Wait, what? Are you both okay—” 

“We did say we’d kill the other for your hand, but,” Suguru presses a kiss to your forehead, “But now we realize the more eyes watching you, the better, and,” he shrugs, “we don’t mind sharing if it’s just with the other,” 

“And I know you’ll prefer me sooner or later,” Satoru adds, earning a glare from Suguru, as you only chuckle, “Suguru is always so grumpy—ow!” Suguru smacks on the back of the head, as the black haired yakuza wraps his arms around you, pressing your back to his front. 

“And you are always too busy running your mouth,” Suguru replies, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “sure you can handle both of us in your life?” and you pull Satoru close too, letting his lips brush yours, before turning and pressing a kiss to Suguru. 

“Shouldn’t you be asking yourselves that?” you say, as the two of them wrap an arm around you, “I am supposed to ruin your lives after all.” 

✧ a/n: so this has been a longtime coming. i was supposed to be working on prof geto (5) + my nanami celebration fic but this took over my life and wouldn't let go until i finished. so i hope you guys enjoy!! and this is my reminder why i don't write multi partner scenes like this often because its....difficult. thank you to @gaylatteart for reading and putting up with me <333

✧ taglist: @midmourn, @whore-for-hawks, @ekaterinatepes, @satoryaa, @mandysfanfics, @sodoney, @sukunasfavoritehole, @kazbrkker, @satorugirlie, @itsbokutosjuicyass, @santos4, @levanadragoneel, @talkativetranscendant, @abiiebibie, @simply-a-s1mp, @jolynelovesrain, @deegausserr, @xxemmarldxx, @biancaness, @satoniko, @ackermanbby, @rintoriss, @kentocalls, @marionettte, @bear-likes-mushrooms, @forest-hashira, @catsgomurp, @k1t0u, @rat-loves, @forest-fruits-jam, @wishingforanother, @roseified, @spider-fan72, @caelestine-the-caelicatto, @gojolvrr34, @chosobun, @chuuyasboots, @nanamis-baker, @hanxyy,

[forlix]

𝐝𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞・b.c.

— incurable playboy turned doting boyfriend was a character development arc nobody saw coming for christopher bang, including (especially) his frat brothers.

words・2.8k pairing・frat president!chris x gn!reader genres・fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, college!au, fuckboy!chris, boys being boys, kissing, implied sex so mdni warnings・substance use, talk of past heartbreak

a/n・here is "nobody believes you're dating" w/chan, requested by none other than my @rachalixie for my 2k event !! anny, i hope u love this fic as much as i love u; thank you for allowing me to write something so self-indulgent <3

In the deafening throes of one of Phi Mu Alpha’s spring kickbacks, Minho finds Jeongin and Seungmin standing in motionless silence by the kitchen counter. Both boys are gaping at something with an intensity that dips egregiously into the realm of creepy. He moves to pour himself a shot.

“What the fuck are you people looking at?”

Seungmin prods a pointer finger in the relevant direction. It takes a few seconds of scanning the scene for Minho to find what he’s referring to. He digs a knuckle into his eye, instantly confused by what he’s seeing. Maybe the gaping is justified.

The windows and doors have all been thrown open to invite the balmy April weather into the foyer of the frathouse. There’s a large crowd of people huddled around a long, foldable table stationed before the stairs; Jaehyun clutches a ping-pong ball between his fingers, singular eye squinted shut as he takes aim. The number of remaining solo cups dwindles rapidly, as does the players’ sobriety.

Something—someone—is missing.

Not to say “beer pong virtuoso” was one of the reasons Chris was elected frat president, but you’d think the guy had a career path in basketball with how he’s given the entire Greek life community alcohol poisoning by courtesy of two or three plastic balls alone. Minho has never known him to miss a shot, let alone miss out on a game.

Today, however, the reigning champion is only spectating, seated above the ongoing match on one of the steps of the main staircase.

A beautiful stranger is sitting beside him, cheek pressed to his shoulder as you peer at the match through the bannister.

You say something inaudible. The laugh it earns from Chris is bright enough to pick up from a few streets down. He leans in to murmur something in return, and you slide your hand over his nape to pull his mouth onto yours, light blush crawling up and over your ears. The way Chris melts into you can only be described as familiar, his eyes slowly fluttering shut, finger hooking delicately beneath your chin, grin going lopsided as your lips part—

“That’s enough,” Minho hisses, tearing his eyes away with considerable effort. “Aren’t you ashamed? Just fucking ogling.”

Jeongin shakes his head, grinning. “It’s dinner and a show. We’d be idiots not to.”

By dinner, he must mean the gallon of chocolate milk he’s been drinking from for the last hour. He now holds out said gallon with the intent to cheers. Seungmin picks up the entire handle and does the same.

Minho sighs, clinks his glass against theirs, and they throw back their respective refreshments in unison.

“Anywho.” Jeongin swipes the back of his hand over his mouth before going on. “You guys know who that is?”

Minho resurfaces with a wince, relishing in the bitter aftermath, then motions for Seungmin to give the bottle back straightaway. He arrived to the function late and he’s not nearly as drunk as he’d like to be.

Seungmin obliges Minho only after another heady swig. “No clue. Probably just another fling, no?”

“Mmm,” Jeongin hums in assent. “It’s Chris we’re talking about, after all.”

"Agreed. Case closed.”

There’s an air of finality in Seungmin’s voice—but Minho isn’t so sure.

Perhaps because he has never noticed that Chris had dimples until now; or because you fold so naturally into Chris' side after your kiss ends, head nuzzling against the crook of his neck and hand seeking out his to hold in your lap; or, most likely, because Chris' eyes seem to return to you when he looks at you, as if his gaze drifting anywhere else is but a momentary departure from where it really belongs. As if he comes home every time you come into his line of vision.

Whatever the reason, the idea coalesces in Minho’s mind, even as inebriation begins to fall over his cognitive faculties like a curtain, that the boys have got it wrong.

Jeongin utters his name, jolting him out of his trance. There’s another shot lifted halfway to Minho’s lips that hasn’t budged in minutes. “Whatcha thinking about?”

Minho looks at Jeongin first, Seungmin next, then back at Chris and his stunning companion. He’s not inclined to answer the question in full, but he can in truth. A coy smile crosses his face.

“Threesome?”

Jeongin laughs hard enough to collapse onto the kitchen island. Seungmin drags a hand down his face. “Come on, man.”

In the corner of his eye, you’ve gone back to kissing again, slow and sweet and secretive. Chris' gentle hold on your jaw shields you from view but fails to hide his lovesick smile. Dimly, Minho thinks that maybe his friend has met his match.

Then, he takes four shots in rapid succession—and stops thinking altogether.

Christopher Bang’s love life is like a horror movie and romcom spliced together: a fiasco of a film to which his housemates have front row seats.

The frat’s upperclassmen live in sets of four-bed, two-bath suites comprising a small common space with a kitchen and a sitting area, sandwiched by bedrooms on either side. It is in that common space that Changbin, Hyunjin, and Jisung often see or hear Chris stumbling home after a night out, entangled with a different attractive stranger every time—so often, in fact, that they’ve come to believe that he’s deathly allergic to anything bigger than a one-and-done hookup.

They can’t judge. In part because they’d be throwing stones from glass houses, but also because the man’s penchant for empty physicality is far from unfounded. His past self gave pieces of his heart to the wrong people, contracted first-degree burns from the guileless warmth he sought out. Now, his version of “intimacy” is less a connotation of closeness than it is a self-contradiction, for it should be impossible for so much distance to remain between two people in a single bed.

Chris hasn’t vocalized any of this. Nor have his housemates discussed it with each other. The knowledge simply exists in the air between the four of them like something akin to taboo, dipping in and out of acknowledgement depending on the circumstance.

This might be the circumstance of all time.

At around 11:40 A.M. on a Saturday, three doors in the suite open at once. Hyunjin and Changbin aren’t coincidence—the latter is coercing the former to go to the gym again—but they lift their eyes to the opposite side of the living room, and the slice of milk bread dangling from Hyunjin’s lips very nearly takes a fatal fall. Changbin manages to snatch it up with an extended hand.

Chris has just emerged from his room as well. Your silhouette follows close behind, your mouth stretching into a yawn as you massage the sleep from your eyes. You’re sporting a mesh green sweater identical to one Chris owns. They find Chris' accessories more interesting than his clothes, though: two hickeys peeking out from beneath his jaw and the base of his neck.

Chris sees Hyunjin and Changbin right away, and his expression goes utterly blank, not unlike their faces as they watch you close his door meticulously. You turn around and gasp.

The four of you stare at each other for what feels like multiple business days. At least, Hyunjin, Changbin, and Chris stare at each other; your eyes dart between the men on the other side of the room and the man next to you, silently pleading for him to say something. He does not for a long while.

Then, he lunges for one of the throw pillows on the couch and flings it at Hyunjin like a shot put. It ricochets off his chest and lands on the floor rather anticlimactically.

“Distraction!” Chris yells anyways, grabbing your hand and tearing towards the exit, wild grin on his face. “Go, go, go!”

Your raucous laughter lingers even after you’ve been hauled away, accompanied by an unintelligible, breathless shout of something along the lines of my toothbrush—and then the front door clicks shut, and there are two.

Changbin and Hyunjin lock eyes, struggling to process what just happened. Hyunjin is the first to move, wandering hesitantly into the bathroom that Chris and Jisung share. Nothing about the place looks out of the ordinary.

“Well, shit,” Hyunjin says out loud.

That is, aside from the two toothbrushes slotted in the holder on Chris' side of the counter.

Something moves in the bathroom window, catching his attention. Hyunjin looks over just in time to spot you and Chris dart out onto the lawn two floors below. Chris has his arm draped over your shoulders, yours wrapped around his waist. Your smile is discernible all the way from here, and Hyunjin sees a perfect mirror of it on his friend’s face when Chris glances at the frathouse over his shoulder. 

Has he always had dimples?

Moments later, Changbin joins him in peering out the window. A high-pitched cackle erupts from the older boy’s lips. “Look at that idiot.”

Standing off to the left is a tiny, astonished Han Jisung, his arms full of groceries, jaw sitting squarely the grass and whites of his eyes on full display as he watches you and Chris stroll away.

Hyunjin laughs with his whole fucking body. Changbin whips out his phone and takes a picture.

When you finally breach the topic, it’s because you don’t think you can physically study for another minute—but also because, after multiple long months of fruitless sparring, your curiosity finally wins.

Your boyfriend is seated in your desk chair, feet kicked up onto your mattress with his laptop propped up on his thighs. His features have rearranged themselves into an expression of intense focus as he pores over his production homework. You can hear music blaring through his headphones from all the way here.

You uncross your legs from below you, scootch across your bed, and lift your hands to cradle his cheeks. He startles as if coming out of a trance, then begins to smile when he reads the words hi, Channie off your lips.

His headphones fall around his neck. He sets his laptop down onto your desk with a dull thunk. The next thing to drop is you when Chris seizes you by the waist and tackles you into the mattress. The somber atmosphere of your study session is shattered by your muted laughter and Chris pressing his lips to every inch of your exposed skin he can. He saves your mouth for last.

“Hey, beautiful,” he answers, but only after kissing the living daylights out of you, the syllables soft and silky with adoration. “Missed me?”

You drag your eyes from his brown irises with blown pupils to his sloping nose, from his disheveled dark locks to his cordate lips, so plush and warm against your own that you swear you still feel them there. You brush a hand over the back of his neck, your head now spinning so badly that you barely remember what you wanted to ask him.

“Always,” you say. “I was starting to feel jealous of your homework.”

He chuckles. “Shit, I’ll drop out of college right now, baby. Just say the word.”

“You’re perfect,” you hum.

“Says you,” he murmurs, nudging the tip of his nose against yours.

Your lips find each other’s again—needless to say, your study sessions aren’t known for their productivity. Some time passes before you come up for air. Even afterwards, Chris doesn’t let you go far, pulling you into his chest by the curve of your waist, nuzzling his cheek into your hairline. You only need to whisper for him to hear your question.

“Can I ask you something?”

“'Course,” he returns, and you’re close enough to sense him tighten with apprehension. “Everything okay?”

“Yes, don’t worry.” You print a kiss to the side of his neck for extra reassurance. “It’s just…I’ve been meaning to ask how your friends feel about me.”

He tightens with something else now: surprise, you’re guessing; you’re hoping. You hadn’t seriously considered that the answer could be negative, but it’s dawning on you now that the possibility of that isn’t zero.

“Where’s this coming from?” Chris inquires, his tone opaque.

You hesitate, mentally reviewing your interactions with your boyfriend’s social circle. Hyunjin and Jisung can’t make eye contact with you when they speak to you. Minho does nothing but make eye contact with you whether he’s speaking to you or not. Jeongin and Seungmin can maintain small talk for about ten seconds before they start looking like they’d rather be anywhere else. Changbin is the only one you’ve held a conversation with, and only because you were going up the same stairs at the same time and the alternative would have been mind-numbing silence.

What is the best way for you to say this?

“Well,” you begin, “I can’t help but notice that they act a little—when I’m around, they’re a bit, uh—”

“—crazy,” Chris offers. “Completely fucking bat-shit crazy.”

“Yes. Exactly that.”

Chris threads a hand through your hair, the comforting gesture doing nothing to assuage your worry. It seems there’s some truth behind your impressions. Your next words are tinged with a quiet sadness.

“I’m not imagining things, then?”

“No, angel,” he sighs. “But not for the reasons you think.”

A beat passes. Chris perceives your silence as a chance to backtrack, to opt out of this conversation if it’s one he’s not ready for. He would’ve leapt at the opportunity once.

But he realizes in that moment, with your voice gentle against his ears and your touch so doting upon his skin, how much has changed since he met you: from the color of the sky to the word home and everything in between, including his cynicism towards love and all the iterations of forever it holds. 

With that epiphany comes another, then another: he wants you to know why his friends are acting insane, wants you to know about him and his past and all the wounds of his you never know you healed, wants you to spend the rest of this forever with him.

His pointer finger dusts beneath your chin, a wordless request for you to look at him, and he nearly liquifies when you do and he finds entire constellations in your eyes. 

“It’s a lot,” he mumbles, though he suspects you know that already; he suspects you know about the other stuff, too. 

You bring your hand to the side of his face, bring your forehead to rest upon his. Your closeness washes over him like a low summer tide lapping over sandy shores, a soothing balm spreading over scorched flesh. 

“It’s you,” you breathe. “I will love it just the same.”

Chris' held breath comes out in shudders.

So this is warmth.

Minho and Felix are watching anime on the couch when a knock comes at their door, unfortunately during a pivotal moment of a pivotal episode. 

Minho hits pause with a ghastly groan. Felix laughs and rises to his feet, dashing into his room to grab the two silver necklaces he’ll be loaning out for the evening. “Coming!”

Outside, Chris is standing alone, hips and thighs accentuated by a pair of tight-fitting dress pants, sculpted chest and collarbones framed by a thin, cream-colored shirt with the top three buttons undone. Most of his hair has been pushed off his forehead, leaving a few locks free to fall over his right eyebrow. He’s rolling up his sleeves when Felix opens the door, veined forearms flexing as a result of the effort.

“Well?” He asks. Minho cranes his neck to look past Felix.

Both boys start to holler and whistle like excited macaques.

“What in the Calvin Klein is this?” Felix shouts, spinning Chris around by the shoulders. “You look insane, bro. Holy fuck.”

“What’s the occasion, young man?” Minho inadvertently sounds like a gruff uncle. “Where are you going dressed like that, huh?”

Chris' laugh comes easier nowadays. What’s more, it comes in a way that reaches the rest of him, that ends in a tiny, high squeak that you really have to look for in order to hear.

Felix and Minho can't help but replicate his smile. Those clothes look good on him, yes—but happiness looks better.

“You guys are silly,” Chris giggles. Dimples indent his cheeks as he accepts the necklaces from Felix. “Thanks, man. I’ll give ‘em back tomorrow.”

“No rush,” Felix replies, grinning. “Have fun, yeah?”

“We will.” Chris starts to retreat down the hallway, hands moving to clasp the jewelry around his neck, but not before he blows the both of them a kiss.

“Be back before ten!” Minho hollers; Chris laughs again, turns a corner, and disappears.

Felix closes the door. His smile falters fast. Minho has brought his face mere centimeters away, his expression thoroughly humorless.

“Tell me only the truth, Lee Yongbok,” he deadpans.

“O-okay—”

“Is Chris in a relationship?”

“—oh.” Felix frowns. “Well, yeah.”

Minho blanches. “How—how long?”

“One year, give or take? Anniversary’s today.”

Minho is stunned. Felix is stunned that Minho is stunned.

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

[yanderenightmare]

TW: angst, toxic traits, somewhat bullying, breakup

fem reader

You’re his first girlfriend. He’d never bothered with anything serious before—it seemed too messy to trifle with. He doesn’t know why he suddenly decided. Suppose he’d been feeling a little bored, and something within him saw you as a fool-proof opportunity.

It wasn’t because you were anything special. Actually, it was more the opposite. You didn’t seem like too big of a risk. You were just a normal, honest, nice person—a bit of a loser, too, if he was being honest. He could do a lot better and pick someone of the same caliber as him, someone with a cooler style and presence, but then he’d only get caught up in the competition.

You were more to his appetite—a dorky, blushy lil’ nerd who giggled nervously at everything he said. In other words, no competition at all. You’d never dare break his heart because you frankly couldn’t afford it. And he found solace in that imbalance—knowing he held all the cards and that you could only be grateful he’d chosen you.

At least, that had been what he’d thought. But then, here you are, holding his hands from across the table in a cute little sundae café, telling him how this just can’t work anymore.

He’s confused for a whole minute before it sinks in.

You’re breaking up with him.

He’s confused afterward, too.

You’re breaking up with him?

That can’t be right. You must be joking. He almost laughs, almost cackles, but ends up staying completely silent. Something about that pitiful look in your eye makes his throat tight, and he almost thinks he’s going to cry instead. 

You’re breaking up with him. You, with him. His foot starts to tap. Have you hit your head or something? You’re dressed in a hoodie, for crying out loud, with not an ounce of make-up on—effortless, as if his perception of you wasn’t any of your concern while you’re fucking breaking up with him.

No way. There’s just no way. You must be confused about something, is all. There’s absolutely no way you’re doing this.

“What are you talking about?” It comes angry. Louder than he’d intended, enough to make you jolt in your seat. A couple of heads even turn your way. You wait for them to turn back before answering.

“I just think we’re a bit too different. And… I don’t know…” You were trying to find ways of telling him you weren’t in love with him but ended up deciding it was unnecessary—it wasn’t exactly something he needed to hear even though you had a lot you could say.

You’re rude and arrogant and treat me like some rescue pet you’ve nurtured back to health. You act like you’re embarrassed to be with me even though you’re the one without any friends. You’re selfish and spoiled and—

“If you don’t know, then there’s nothing to talk about. Quit being silly.” He has a furrow between his brows as he picks up the pink menu between the two of you, scanning the different types of milkshakes you could share and forget all about it. After all, you weren’t breaking up with him—that would just be absurd. “Let’s get strawberry.”

“No—”

“Guess we could get mango if you want that instead—”

“I’m not sharing drinks with you—”

“What? You tryna lose weight or something? Not like anyone but me is gonna see you when all you wear are those baggy hoodies all the time. Speaking of which, you should wear mine instead, they’d suit you better—”

“Listen.” You stop his rambling. “I’m not sharing drinks, and I’m not wearing your clothes. I’m not being silly, either. I’m being serious. It’s over—”

“No, it’s not.” His fist bangs against the table—the look in his eye on edge and twitchy. “I asked you why, and you had no good reason—so it’s not, not until you convince me.”

You had wanted to avoid it, but it seems he wouldn’t allow you the grace to spare him. That being said, you hadn’t meant to be so brutally honest…

“You’re a narcissist. You don’t treat me like a girlfriend. I’m more like a charity case or some type of experiment to you. Half the time, it feels as though you’re just playing a game with everyone in your life like pawns for you to shuffle around the board as you see fit.” You’re the one with the furrowed brows now, unable to bite your tongue as you’d kept it in all this time. “I think you should seek help and get your controlling tendencies straightened out before having any type of relationship. Or don’t. In any case, I don’t think I’m the right girl for you.”

There’s a silence. The chatter of the café seems distant. You feel half inclined to apologize as you look at him and stare down the glassy tabletop as if trying to find his reflection for comfort—but then he beats you to the punch.

“You’re right…” he starts softly, mustering the words, and you’re almost proud to see him take it so well, but then there’s a viscousness to his next words. “You’re not the right girl for me.”

When he looks up again, his face is warped—callous and seemingly disgusted by the sight of you. Something about it even seems to lash out at you, seeking revenge.

“I can’t believe I thought I saw something in you,” he sighs. “Turns out you’re exactly what everyone warned me you would be—just a plane-boring old Jane. What a joke—wasting so much time on something so worthless. Forget breaking up with me, I should have broken up with you a long time ago.”

He gets up in a rush and bears over the table, both palms laid flat upon the surface.

“Charity case?” he seethes, then conjures a fake laugh and an even faker grin. “I couldn’t have put it better myself. Enjoy sitting here alone like the loser you are.”

And even though you’re the one watching him walk away while ordering a chocolate sundae for yourself, you can’t help but feel sorry for the poor guy… 

That had been the most emotion you’d ever witnessed come from him.

Obviously, he doesn’t take it very well, stumbling through the café before bursting out the door, but even he’s surprised by how disheveled it had made him. He’s hyperventilating when the fresh air hits him, almost sprinting to his car so that he can lock himself inside it.

But the car only makes it worse as he’s far from alone in there. You’re everywhere. On the hood, waiting for him with a smile. In the rearview mirror, waving at him. In the seat next to him with a pout, asking if you can stay over. In the backseat, naked with a coy twinkle in your eye.

He knows! He has some of your underwear at home—he’ll threaten to pass them around campus unless you beg him to take you back. No, what’s he thinking!? You’ll never come back to him that way. Fuck, what can he do, what’s he supposed to do!? He just called you worthless—what that fuck was he thinking?!

The tears startle him as they drip down and splash upon his whitening knuckles, where he grips the wheel for dear life even as the car stays completely still—safe and sound in the same plot.

There’s a light pink lip balm on the dash. Yours. You must have left it there—maybe on purpose? No… you don’t play games like that. You’d been honest in the café. The fact terrifies him—his heart seems to want to reject it at all costs, the way it tears in his chest.

He picks the slim pink stick up and rolls it around in his hand, which can’t seem to stop shaking. You’d sat on his lap in this very seat, laughing at something dumb he’d said while applying the very same balm on his lip—kissing his forehead while saying something sweet. He knows it wasn’t, but he imagines you’d whispered that you loved him.

When he smears the balm around his lips this time, he imagines kissing you and your soft lips and that everpresent smile he never bothered telling you was pretty.

He’s such an idiot. The birds in the parking lot take flight at the jostling of his car, but no one hears the roar.

And as he sits there in the following silence, wallowing in his own self-pity and regret, he can’t help but feel like the lead of some angsty teen romance.

And like the lead in an angsty teen romance, he swears… whatever it takes… he will win you back.

You will be his again.

BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks JJK – Gojo, Naoya, some young type of Sukuna, or Toji HQ – Tsukishima, Oikawa, Sakusa, Miya twins BLLK – Reo AOT – Eren

♡ (FEMxM) INSERT masterlist ♡ (GNxM) INSERT masterlist