#i'm sorry these are considered convenient and EASY??

[biitchcakes]

whoever invented the ball closure piercing is a god damn sadist i just know it

[kookslastbutton]

Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | chapter v

✑ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.

pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, actor!taehyung x ceo!reader

genre/AU: angst, smut, fluff, loverstoexesto ?, coworkers2?, unrequited love

Word count: 14k+

Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, Taehyung is 32, swearing, tornado of emotions, morally grey characters, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of broken home/families, mean relatives, mentions of therapy, struggles of self-blame, regret, guilt, denial, self-deprecating in some areas etc., mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of sexism in the media and business world, there is one scene depicting some physical violence (tame) , finally some fluff!, and I won't spoil any more

playlist: Unkiss Me, Apologize, Hate That I Love You, etc.

a/n: OMG....ignore the fact that this is releasing a month after ch. 4. 🫠 i'm sorry. On the bright side, I'm VERY excited to share this with you AND this actually isn’t the last chapter. There’s one more after! I hope you enjoy 🥰 ALSO, this is GP!Taehyung in this chapter (....😮‍💨)

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"This can't be right," you mutter to yourself for the umpteenth time, eyes heavily fixated on your laptop screen. You've been scrolling through the latest press releases all morning, a cup of tea growing cold beside you.

Ever since Jimin’s text last week, rumors about your ex-husband stepping down from his position at JeonX practically spread like wildfire, with nearly every journalist adding their individual spin on the matter—some suggest personal issues, while others hint at possible disagreements within the company.

Despite the influx of information, however, it all remains too vague and inconclusive. An official statement from the company directly would help clear up speculations, but it’s been crickets. Their silence only makes you consider the validity of the rumors even more.

Why would they make such a critical leadership change right after their newest product launch though?

This question, among others, continuously swirl in the back of your mind and you find the entire predicament ironic. You used to be one of the first to know the ins and outs of the company, easily able to distinguish the truth. Now, you're left in the dark like everyone else, dependent on the media for answers.

Before your eyes have time to skim the next group of articles on your screen, your phone rings.

It's Taehyung.

“Hey,” you answer casually, momentarily forgetting the significance of the call.

“Morning!” His voice is gravelly yet carries a cheerful tone. He seems quite upbeat for a foggy Saturday at 8 a.m. “Are you still okay to carpool to my parents' place today? Tan and I are on our way over.”

Dammit. Of course, this isn’t just any old Saturday—it’s the day of Taehyung’s family gathering. It had slipped your mind that you asked to ride together a few days prior. Given that it would be a five-hour long commute, driving separately seemed less convenient and enjoyable. Besides, you’d miss out on having Tan on your lap, his head poking out of the passenger-side window.

“Yeah, I’m good to go,” you reply, trying to sound more confident than you feel. “I’ll be ready when you get here.”

“Great! See you soon.” Taehyung hangs up, and you put your phone down with a deep breath.

To be blunt, you're still extremely nervous about the affair. Surely his family knows who you are and has seen their fair share of articles about you. So how will they react when you show up next to Taehyung at their family function? He says they’ll like you, but it's hard to accept.

Nonetheless, you know how important this family gathering is to him and how much he wants you to be there. Not only is it a family event, but it’s also a celebration of his recovery from a motorcycle accident that could’ve been much worse.

As you pour your cold cup of tea down the sink, you try to push away the unsettling mix of thoughts, focusing instead on the next task at hand— how you should dress. Prior conversations with Taehyung advise you that something polished would be ideal for the occasion, as his family appreciates a touch of elegance, yet your mind blanks on a tangible option. Surely, there’s something in the back of your closet that would do the trick. Right?

Well…you’re right-ish.

Upon searching through rows of hangers, arms growing tired, you finally find a somewhat suitable sundress. You’re hoping it won’t look too casual, but you don’t seem to have a better alternative with your closet currently overtaken by work clothes.

Wasting no further time, you quickly slip the dress over your head and observe how it fits in the mirror. Not bad, you think, before deciding on a few complimentary jewelry pieces. The saving grace of this choice of clothing is that it can easily be dolled up, which is exactly what’s needed today.

Soon, you hear the muffling of an engine and when you peek through your bedroom window, you’re unsurprised to see Taehyung’s car pull into the driveway with a very excited Tan poking his head out from the backseat. A small smile forms on your lips at the sight.

Sparing one final look in the mirror, you slide into your shoes, toss your bag over a shoulder, and head outside to meet them.

“Hey!” Per usual, you're met with a warm smile as you hop into Taehyung's car but before you can return the greeting, Tan bounds onto your lap, tail wagging eagerly. “God, I’m so sorry about him,” Taehyung reaches for his dog, but you quickly reassure him it’s alright.

“I’m happy to see you too, Tan,” you laugh, petting him affectionately. Your focus then shifts over to Taehyung, "Thanks for coming to get me."

“Of course,” he replies, smile widening as he watches Tan settle into your lap. “I’m really glad you’re coming with me," he continues, pulling away from the curb. "My parents are looking forward to meeting you.”

You nod, trying to calm your fluttering nerves. “I’m looking forward to meeting them too.” This time, when you glance his way, you take in his attire—a crisp white button-up shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows, and black dress pants. It’s a classic look, yet it seems oddly refreshing on him. It's not like you expected Taehyung to look bad or anything; far from it, but did he always have to look this good? A queasy feeling soon settles in the pit of your stomach...maybe you should have worn something else.

Before you're able to fully turn away from him, Taehyung speaks up. “You look really nice today,” he says softly, eyes lingering over your face and down your body before shyly refocusing on the road. “That dress is beautiful on you—it really suits you.”

“Oh, thank you,” you reply with a shy smile of your own, unexpectant of his comment. “You don’t look half bad yourself.”

Something about the subtle exchange of compliments stirs a bundle of nerves in both of you and even with averted eyes, neither of you finds it entirely unpleasant.

The rest of the drive is long, but luckily, soon fills with lighthearted conversation and laughter. It's become easier and easier to be around Taehyung, you think.

After more than a few bathroom breaks—mostly due to Tan’s persistent whining—you finally catch sight of Taehyung’s parent’s house.

It’s even more picturesque than you imagined, with its charming architecture and well-tended garden. In the distance, the ocean glimmers, tying the scene perfectly together.

“I meant to mention earlier, but my parents have an oceanfront view,” Taehyung says casually, pulling up to the house. “We can go down there later if you’d like. It’s private access.”

“Really?” You glance over at him with anticipation, your excitement clear. You can already taste the saltiness of the water. “If it’s really okay, I’d love that.”

“It’s more than okay,” he assures with a smile. “In fact, it’s a done deal. The best time to go is in the evening. We can even use the excuse that we need to take Tan for a little stroll if necessary. Family bonding can get a bit overwhelming without a few breaks.” He lets out a chuckle but stops when he notices your slightly demure expression.

“Hey,” he turns to you with gentle eyes. “Everything okay?”

You blink, momentarily pulled from your thoughts. “Oh, yeah, sorry. I was just thinking it’s been a while since I’ve gone to any kind of family affair. They know I’m coming, right?”

Understanding your apprehension, Taehyung shifts the gear into park and places a light hand on your arm. “Absolutely, and please believe me when I say they’re more than ready and excited to meet you. They’ve asked about you so many times—I’m pretty sure I’ve lost count. I’m really happy you’re here with me too, so I hope you don’t feel like you’re intruding because I promise you’re not at all. And if at any point you need a moment to yourself, take it. I want you to feel as comfortable as possible, and I’m confident my family will want the same.”

With his hand on your arm, you find yourself wrapping yourself in the comfort of the gesture, nerves slowly easing in the process. “Thanks, Tae,” you reply, feeling a tad lighter than before.

“Are you ready?”

You nod, signaling him to remove his hand to take the key out of the ignition. As his hand leaves your arm however, you feel a subtle, unexpected shift—wishing the warmth of his touch could linger just a moment longer.

But hold up.

Since when did he affect you like this?

Dwelling on it further proves to be futile because before you can blink, the house’s front door swings wide open, revealing an older, petite woman with a kind and inviting smile. You both step out of the car immediately, Tan happily trotting around the yard confidently.

The woman pulls Taehyung into a big hug once close enough, and it’s all the evidence you need to deduce that she must be his mother.

“We were wondering where you were!” she starts. “Everyone’s here except you.” It’s a light scold, not that Taehyung minds from the giant grin spreading across his face.

“Forgive me, Mom. I guess we’re fashionably late,” he replies.

Mrs. Kim looks up and down her son with adoration, hands still gripping his arms. “Look at you,” she coos, as if proud. “My son is so handsome. I’m so happy to see you here, healthy and well.”

“Mom, this is __.”

Her eyes then shift to you, standing somewhat awkwardly beside them. If possible, her warm expression brightens even more, taking you by surprise.

“My goodness, I’m being so rude," she says, stepping toward you. "It’s wonderful to finally meet you, honey. Are you okay with hugs?”

“Sure.” You offer a sincere smile and embrace her. When you do, you feel a sense of peacefulness that you hadn’t ever before, soothing any lingering tension. You can’t help but assume that many of Taehyung’s qualities must come from her.

“I’m so pleased that my son brought you today,” she says, pulling back from the hug. She takes in your clothing as well. “You're absolutely lovely, my dear. Doesn't this color work wonderfully on her?” She glances at Taehyung, who merely nods in agreement.

“You’re the one who looks beautiful, Mrs. Kim,” you return the compliment, feeling a tad embarrassed by all the praise. “I love your earrings by the way. Are they jade?”

She nods, pleasantly. “Thank you for noticing. They’re indeed jade. My husband gifted them to me for our anniversary last year. I told him he didn’t need to get me anything, but that man is so persistent. Speaking of which, you should come inside and meet him.” She turns around at once and ushers you and Taehyung into the house. He allows you to go first.

As you follow Mrs. Kim up the steps, Tan bounds ahead excitedly. The aroma of delicious food fills the air the further you walk, and soon you’re greeted by a cozy, homey atmosphere.

Finally, you find Taehyung’s father in the kitchen, washing his hands at the sink. “Honey, Taehyung’s here and he brought __ with him.” Upon hearing your name, the man quickly dries his hands on a towel and extends a friendly hand your way, eyes twinkling.

“Hello, __! I’m glad you could come today. We’ve heard so much about you.”

“Likewise,” you reply, “Thank you for welcoming me into your home. It’s gorgeous in here.”

“Well, we have our son to thank.” He directs his attention to Taehyung, reaching out and patting his son on the back with a proud smile. “He bought this house for us after all. He’s a good son.”

What?

You glance at Taehyung in surprise, intrigued to learn more about this new bit of information. However, seemingly flustered by the comment, you decide it’s better to save it for another time. His mother is quick to step in.

“Taehyung, dear, why don’t you show __ around and introduce her to everyone?” she suggests smoothly. “They’re all in the living room. We’ll gather everyone to have lunch soon.”

Taehyung nods at the suggestion and begins leading you through the house, until you reach the living room at the end of the hall. The room is even larger than you anticipated upon entering, its high ceilings finished with a delicate glass chandelier. A grand piano sits in the far corner as well where a number of children huddle together, each taking turns playing a few notes.

One by one, Taehyung starts introducing you to his relatives and despite your initial apprehension, each person you meet greets you with nothing but warmth and kindness. Not even a single person shows discomfort towards you or makes a dig into your personal life (though you’re certain they’re well aware of who you are). It’s no wonder Taehyung boasts about his family so often—they truly are a close-knit and respectable group of people.

At least, that’s what you think until Taehyung asks, “Where's Auntie and Uncle? I haven’t seen them yet.”

One of Taehyung’s cousins looks a bit hesitant before replying, “Oh, Tae, I’m sorry, but we haven’t heard anything from them so they might not be coming today. Maybe they had last-minute plans. It’s a bit of a shame, really.”

An odd silence settles over the room at this, conversations lower in volume, and a few knowing glances are exchanged among relatives. The abrupt shift seems to throw a wrench into your previous statement of closeness since, evidently, the absence of Taehyung’s aunt and uncle casts a dark shadow over the cheerful gathering.

Sensing an awkward lull, Taehyung tries to lighten the mood with a bright smile. “Well, I’m sure we’ll still have a great time. I’m just happy to see everyone here.” He gently redirects the conversation to something more upbeat, attempting to remedy the unusual tension.

Just then, a small figure bursts into the room, capturing everyone’s attention.

A little girl, no more than six or seven years old, runs straight toward Taehyung with arms outstretched. “Taetae!” she shouts, using the affectionate nickname as she latches herself around his legs.

Taehyung's face breaks into possibly the happiest grin you’ve seen in response as he kneels to lift her up effortlessly, holding her close as she giggles. “Hey, sweetheart! I missed you!” His voice is filled with affection, though there’s a hint of shock as well.

Eagerly, the little girl secures her arms around his neck. “I missed you too! Mommy and Daddy said we might not be able to come, but here we are!”

“Well, I'm so glad! Have you been a good girl for your parents?” he asks with a playful tone.

The little girl nods vigorously. “Yes! I’ve been helping Mommy with so much lately.”

“Good job!” Taehyung says, giving her a high five.

You’re unsure exactly how the two relate, but the longer you watch the interaction unfold, the more evident it becomes that Taehyung’s a natural at connecting with children. His playful demeanor and patience make it clear that he has a special way with them. It’s heartwarming to see, quite honestly.

“Taetae, who’s she?” the little girl asks suddenly, her big, curious eyes setting on you.

Taehyung smiles and gestures for you to come closer. “This is __. She’s my friend.” He looks at you and adds, “This is my little cousin Eun-ha. We’re quite close.”

“Hi, Eun-ha,” you greet with a soft smile. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

She doesn’t return your greeting, but rather leans into Taehyung’s ear and whispers something you can’t quite hear.

Taehyung chuckles softly, though it does little to conceal your curiosity. “No, Eun-ha,” he says, shaking his head. “We don’t kiss like in my movies. But yes, she's very pretty.”

Though you wish otherwise, your surprise is barely hidden as you process the revelation.

“Why not?” Eun-ha asks, puzzled. “You kiss lots of pretty people in the movies.”

Flustered, Taehyung clears his throat. “Who’s letting you watch my shows? You’re a little young for those I think.”

“She likes to watch them when she can’t see you,” a new voice interjects.

Following the voice, you see two adults entering the room– Taehyung’s aunt and uncle. Their expressions are clearly stiff and somewhat distant, a stark contrast to the warmth of the rest of the family.

“Well, I guess it’s okay then,” Taehyung responds, maintaining his usual beaming smile. “Auntie, Uncle, it’s good to see you.”

His aunt and uncle offer polite but somewhat curt greetings.

“Glad to see you’re alright, Taehyung,” his aunt says, her tone lacking warmth.

“Hello,” his uncle adds, his expression neutral. “I see you’ve brought a guest.” He nods toward you.

“Yes, this is __,” Taehyung introduces you, “She’s a friend of mine and a colleague as well.”

The pair glance at you briefly, their eyes betraying a lack of interest.

“Nice to meet you,” his aunt says, though the thickness in her tone suggests otherwise.

“Likewise,” you respond, trying to match their formality with a friendly smile.

“You know, when I heard my nephew was bringing a guest, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect,” she continues, though the implication is unclear.

“I’m sorry?” you ask, trying to grasp her meaning.

“My apologies. I work as an editor for a journalism outlet, so I’ve come across your name before,” she explains. “It’s always interesting to see people in person after reading about them. I can’t say I ever imagined having the opportunity today.”

“Oh,” you say, trying to keep your composure. “I hope the coverage has been accurate.” You know they haven’t been, aside from a couple of progressive news outlets. Based on her rigid stare, you don’t think she belongs to either of them.

“They’re accurate most of the time,” she replies, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Although, there are always…different perspectives on such matters.”

You offer a polite, tight-lipped smile in response. Despite your best efforts to remain composed, however, your hands unconsciously clench into fists at your sides, indicating your bubbling discomfort.

“Well, I’m sure those articles are just one side of the coin,” Taehyung chimes in, attempting to smooth over the conversation. “I’m of the mindset that you really don’t know a person until you spend time with them. And I can assure you, those overpriced tabloids have it all wrong.” He shoots you a reassuring look.

In the midst of it all, Taehyung’s father steps into the room, oblivious to the tension. “Alright everyone, it’s time to eat!” he announces, his voice carrying a cheerful note. “Let’s gather around now.”

Neither you nor Taehyung’s aunt speak another word to each other as you follow his father into the dining room. You take a deep breath along the way, an attempt to steady yourself.

As lunch begins, Taehyung’s father stands at the head of the table, a broad smile on his face as he raises a glass.

“We want to thank everyone for being here today to celebrate Taehyung’s recovery,” he begins, his voice filled with heartfelt sincerity. “We’re grateful for this family and for the love and support that has carried us through. To Taehyung!”

“To Taehyung!” everyone echoes, lifting their glasses in a unified cheer.

From then on, the meal progresses smoothly, with conversation gradually returning to pleasant topics. Dishes are passed around, and laughter helps lighten the mood. Taehyung’s parents share stories of their journey together, their voices rich with wisdom and nostalgia. As you listen, you get a glimpse of the morals that have shaped their family. It’s so different from your own upbringing, and you feel honored to be a part of it today.

Yet it's still difficult to ignore the lingering heaviness in your chest from your earlier interaction with Taehyung’s aunt. Even now, her sour expression is directed your way, though she seems to withhold her remarks, perhaps due to Mr. and Mrs. Kim’s presence.

Don’t take this personally, you repeat in your head. There’s likely some underlying history or traditional views being projected onto you. This isn’t really about you…don't take it personally.

Midway through the meal, Taehyung’s mother intrigues everyone by pulling out a collection of old photographs. She begins sharing the backstories of various childhood photos of Taehyung, the corners of her eyes crinkling with joy and amusement as she recounts each memory. Taehyung, visibly flustered, tries to hide his blush as his family teases him.

“Oh, look at this one!” his mother exclaims, holding up a particularly old photo of a much younger Taehyung with a hilariously exaggerated hairstyle. “He was so determined to be a rock star!”

The room bursts into laughter, and Taehyung grins sheepishly, his cheeks rosy. “Is this really necessary? I mean __’s here…”

“Come on, Tae, it’s cute!” you say with a smile, giving his arm a playful shove. As you do, Taehyung’s aunt’s eyes widen slightly. Her gaze shifts sharply between you two, and a flicker of disapproval crosses her face. You stop your playfulness upon first notice, finding it hard to ignore.

“It’s embarrassing,” Taehyung retorts, unaware of his aunt’s reaction.

“Oh hush,” his mother replies with a warm smile. “Let a mother indulge in the memories of her children. You’re all grown up now, and with your busy schedule, I hardly see you anymore.”

“Alright, fair point,” Taehyung concedes. “Carry on.”

When the meal winds down, Taehyung’s aunt clears her throat and speaks up. “Is everyone ready for dessert? I’ve baked a homemade cake,” she announces, tone carrying a hint of forced cheerfulness. Turning to you, she adds, “Would you mind assisting me in the kitchen, __? I could use an extra hand.”

Taehyung immediately offers to help, but his aunt insists on speaking with you alone, masking it as an opportunity to get to know you better.

Once you’re in the kitchen and away from prying eyes and ears, Taehyung’s aunt’s demeanor shifts abruptly. She returns to her previous blunt and unreserved nature. “I need to be honest with you,” she begins, her voice low and steely. “I don’t think you should be here.”

Her words sting, yet a part of you can’t help but wonder if there’s some merit to them.

“I know this is a family event, and I’m sorry if it seems like I’m intruding. Taehyung invited me.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” she dismisses, venom lacing her tone. “I mean, you shouldn’t be here with Taehyung.”

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to—”

“Oh please, don’t pretend I don’t have eyes, Ms. __,” she interjects sharply. The use of your formal name sends a chill down your spine. “You may be friends now, but I can see there’s more going on beneath the surface. Unlike the rest of my family, I won’t just stand by and let it happen. So, if you think you can charm your way into my nephew’s life just like you did with that ex-husband of yours, then you’re mistaken. I won’t allow you to ruin his life.”

Ruin his life? You ruined Jungkook’s life and now you are about to ruin Taehyung’s? Confused and hurt, you finally realize the root of the matter–she's convinced you’re a gold digger.

You’re stunned by the accusation, struggling to find words as she continues. “There’s nothing you can say to change my mind either. Even if the articles aren’t exactly true, you still have a past, and Taehyung deserves better—someone without all these complications. Don’t you agree? Maybe if you hadn’t been married before and were ten years younger, things might be different. But honestly? A woman your age should already have a family of her own.”

Silence falls heavily in the kitchen after her final words, the only sound being your labored breaths. Your throat goes dry and your hands clammy as some of your deepest insecurities take root, striking right at your core.

It’s true—you’re 30 years old, divorced, and without children. It’s a stark contrast to your peers.

You’d always imagined your life turning out differently, but here you are, alone and without any kind of companionship. You weren’t expecting to be reminded of it all today.

“I think you’ve made yourself clear about how you feel,” a voice speaks up, and you think it’s yours, until you realize it’s much too deep.

Taehyung’s aunt looks momentarily stunned to see her nephew standing in the doorway, his expression a mixture of shock and anger. But she quickly regains her composure. “Taehyung, I was just—”

“Please don’t,” he interrupts, voice firm. “If I had known you were going to be this cruel towards someone I deeply care about, then I’m sorry I invited you.”

He steps closer, his gaze unwavering. “You have no right to judge someone you don’t know based on rumors and assumptions.”

His aunt’s face softens, though her disapproval remains. “I’m only looking out for you. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I don’t need you to protect me from my own choices,” Taehyung replies, his voice calmer. “I’ve made my own decisions, and __ is a part of that. If you can’t respect that, then maybe you should reconsider how you approach these situations.”

Taehyung’s aunt stands silent for a moment, her gaze shifting between Taehyung and you. She seems to weigh his words before finally nodding and turning back towards the dining room, her displeasure still evident.

Taehyung turns to you, his face etched with worry. “Are you alright?”

You hesitate, unable to give a clear response. “I… I think I need some air,” you finally say.

“Maybe it’s time we take that walk down to the beach,” he suggests gently. “What do you think? Of course, if you’d prefer to go solo, that’s completely your call too. I’ll understand either way.”

You nod, appreciating the idea. “I’d like you to come with me.”

“Let me grab Tan and we can head down,” Taehyung says with a reassuring smile.

The sound of the waves grows louder as you approach the ocean, providing a soothing backdrop to your racing thoughts. It's even more beautiful up close, you think, observing how the sun reflects off the water.

As you walk along the shore, Tan runs ahead, chasing the waves and barking playfully. The sight of him brings a small smile to your face, easing some of the heaviness in your chest.

Taehyung walks beside you, his presence peaceful, though neither of you are quick to speak.

Finally, after a few minutes pass, he breaks the silence.

“I’m really sorry about what happened back there," he says quietly. "My aunt's always had more traditional perspectives, but I didn’t know how rigid they’d gotten. Regardless of how she might've made you feel, I want you to know that you’re very important to me and I couldn't care less about what the public says. The rest of my family seems to love you too so far."

You take a deep breath, the salty air filling your lungs. “It’s not your fault, Taehyung. But thank you.” You pause, your face visibly conflicted. “To be honest, I’ve heard variations of it before from other people. I just didn’t expect her to be so… direct.”

He nods, turning to you with sincerity. “I know it was hurtful, and even though I didn’t hear everything she said, you didn’t deserve it. It's not true, either.”

You manage a small, tight-lipped smile, but it hardly matches how you feel inside. “Well,” you begin, continuing your walk, “some of it's true, I think.” Taehyung looks at you with concern, though you struggle to hold his gaze.

“Wanna sit?” he suggests lightly, gesturing to a spot on the beach with a clear view of the waves ahead. "Tan'll be fine to roam around on his own."

You nod slowly in reply, a gentle breeze caressing your face and feathering against your legs as you move.

Once you reach the area, you tuck the skirt of your dress beneath your thighs and take a seat on the soft sand. Taehyung sits down beside you.

“So,” he starts again, his eyes never leaving your face, “what’s true?"

You take a moment, watching the waves crash against the shore before forming a response. “It’s just…” Your voice falters as you search for the right words. “I’m 30 years old. The natural course for someone my age is to have a family, a couple of kids, and of course, be married. Or at the very least, have a reliable romantic partner.”

“Instead,” you take a short breath, “it feels like I’m living in a completely different reality from everyone else. Divorced from a big shot CEO, without children, and painted as some kind of spinster or gold digger for the media to exploit. Being a woman, there's really no in-between which makes it that much harder to overcome."

Upon finishing your thought, an unmistakable nervousness bubbles up within you. Had you just overshared? Were you too honest? Although unsettled, everything in you hopes that you didn't just overstep your boundaries with Taehyung, as the two of you hadn't had this deep of a conversation before. You find yourself holding your breath as he replies.

"To have all that unnecessary pressure placed on you is unfair,” he says quietly. “I can’t imagine how tough it must be to feel disregarded and reduced to so little. I'm so sorry, __. I'm sorry that we gets so fixated on image and what’s deemed proper that we often forget the real meaning behind things. I know it might be hard to believe, but there’s more to your story than what others see or say. More than even you might think, too."

As if inevitable, your vision goes misty and a tear spills down your cheek upon hearing his words, though you're quick to wipe it away. It's not that the words themselves are monumental, but rather, they confirm the closeness of your relationship. Few people have ever understood or cared to understand you, so you had stopped expecting it altogether, especially after your divorce. Yet somehow, Taehyung always surprises you, being one of the few who truly does.

Feeling a bit more comfortable, you admit, "I know it's probably an overstatement, but I can't help but feel like I'm alone in ways that are hard to escape. Some days I just don't know what to do with it all. Does that make sense?"

“Sweetheart,” Taehyung says softly, taking the hand you used to wipe your tears and lacing his fingers with yours. The warmth of his touch sends a comforting spark through you. He’s never called you that before, and it feels unexpectedly intimate—almost domestic, if you didn’t know better.

“It makes complete sense, especially given what you've gone through and still are. You don’t ever have to feel alone anymore though,” he continues. “I’m here for you. You have Jimin and Namjoon too. And the three of us? We’ll always have your back.”

Your eyes soften as you meet his gaze. He’s looking at you with such warmth and innocence, yet he hasn’t fully grasped the weight of your words.

“I appreciate it,” you say gratefully. “It’s not all one-dimensional, though. When I say I feel alone, I mean relationally as well because, given my age and marital status, it's unlikely I'll find any real companionship. I’m just considered ‘used goods' after all.”

“Used goods? Who the hell said you're used?” Taehyung’s voice rises, not in anger but in genuine offense. Amid his reaction, his hand slips from yours.

“Our entire society?” you retort, raising your voice before lowering it again, realizing he means well. You pull your legs up to your chin and hug them. “I’m divorced, Tae. I’m no beauty queen. Just used goods, as I said.”

You both stare out into the distance, falling into a brief silence.

“Well, I for one think you’re very gorgeous,” he says softly, still gazing ahead. “So please, don’t call yourself used. You’re definitely not.”

“Tae—”

“Do you wish you were still married?” he interjects gently, eyes returning to yours, searching for the truth. He wants to add, To Jungkook? but keeps it to himself, not deeming it his business.

You take a moment to process his question before responding.

“Some days I do,” you admit. “Not just with anyone, though. I’ve already learned my lesson the hard way. Jimin tried setting me up with a few of his coworkers a while back, but I declined. They’re so far away that I doubt anything would work out. Plus, not to be harsh but who in their right mind would risk it with me anyway?”

“I mean...I would,” he replies almost immediately, insistence in his voice. There's no trace of bluff at all and for a moment, your heart feels like it's doing about a hundred somersaults in your chest. Taehyung's seriousness makes it seem like he means it in a deeper way, but it can't be—he’s merely speaking figuratively because of your closeness.

“Of course you would,” you reply, grabbing his hand again and smiling gratefully. “Because you love me, right?”

You pose the question playfully, feeling your mood lift slightly, but Taehyung’s expression turns stunned, like a deer caught in headlights.

“I do,” he finally murmurs, deep and meaningful, a soft glimmer in his eyes. “I really do.”

"Hu-" you choke on your words, still trying to process his. You never finish, though, as Taehyung suddenly moves to stand up, a newfound cheekiness taking precedence over his face.

“Come on,” he says, “on a warm day like this, we should find a way to enjoy ourselves. Dance with me.”

“What?” you ask, though to be honest, you're not surprised by his spontaneity. “Dancing is a no, Tae. You know I have zero rhythm.”

He doesn’t reply to your argument but instead draws his phone from his pocket, tapping around until light jazz music starts playing. He turns up the volume as loud as he can before placing it on the ground beside you.

“What are you doing?” you watch as he begins swaying his body from side to side, snapping his fingers when the beat feels right.

“I’m dancing by myself since you refuse to get up.”

You laugh, “I happen to like it this way. You can be my source of entertainment.” You adjust yourself so your legs are stretched out in front of you, feet crossed as you lean back on your arms.

He chuckles and continues dancing in small circles. You feel a little guilty the longer you watch. But then...

“__,” he calls your name, low and raspy. He steps over towards you and leans down until he's face to face with you. You like the way the sun glows down on his face, and the thought crosses your mind—he looks incredibly handsome. “__,” he calls your name again, and you realize you've been staring a little too long.

“Sorry,” you reply. “Sun’s making me dazed.”

He gives his usual boxy smile, and damn, why are you feeling so affected by him today? It’s not usually this much.

“Will you please dance with me? I don’t mind dancing by myself, but I prefer a partner.” He pouts and you know you’re done for.

“I’m not going to be good though,” you reply, reluctantly rising from your comfortable seated position. Taehyung pulls you into his hold the moment you’re on your feet. It's a little rougher than he meant, and your bodies accidentally collide in the process.

“Shit, my bad,” he says, taking a small step back.

“It’s fine," you assure, doing the same but not before catching a whiff of his cologne. You can't quite place the scent, but it’s nice...really, really nice.

As the music continues to play, you both sway gently to the rhythm. Taehyung’s touch is warm and steady as he guides you through each simple step. You feel a strange sense of comfort and safety in his arms, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world fades away.

“I didn’t realize you were such a good dancer,” you start. “You’ve been keeping secrets from me.”

He spins you gently, and you let out a surprised laugh, the sound mingling with the soft notes of the jazz music. “I had to take ballroom dancing lessons for a role I played years ago,” he replies smoothly, “but I enjoyed it, so I kept it up.” When you come back to him, he holds you a little tighter, and the closeness feels more intimate and special than you anticipated.

“You’re doing great, by the way,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. "Even with barely any practice."

“All thanks to you,” you reply, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “I guess it’s kinda fun.”

“See? Not so bad,” he says with a triumphant grin.

You glance towards the ocean, feeling a rush of spontaneity yourself. “The water looks so inviting. We should go in.”

He quirks a brow, taking in both of your more formal attire. “Dressed like this?” he asks.

You don’t answer. Instead, you slide out of his hold and run towards the water, laughing and splashing him once he’s close enough behind you.

“Hey! This was expensive!” he shouts, but there's no threat in his voice, only amusement.

“Well, you shouldn’t have worn it around me then!” you tease, splashing him again.

Now nearly drenched, Taehyung huffs and bends down to scoop water into his palm. “You’re gonna get it…” You back away quickly, but he follows after you. “Come here, I have a very special gift for you __,” he says mischievously, water spilling from his hand as he chases you.

You both end up playing in the water for the next ten minutes, splashing and laughing until you find yourself regaining confidence. At some point, Taehyung unexpectedly tackles you from behind, his arms wrapping so tightly around your waist that no amount of movement would free you.

You find yourselves too lost in amusement to notice your closeness until small droplets of water begin falling from above.

"Was that rain?" You stop all movement, but his grip doesn’t loosen. "Tae?" You call his name when it seems he doesn’t register your question, twisting your head over your shoulder to peer at him.

“Oh…um, sorry,” he finally stammers, a faint blush rising to his cheeks as he realizes the tight hold he has on you. His body flushes against your back.

“No, it’s okay…” you struggle to conceal a blush of your own, the warmth of his embrace a little overpowering. "So, I think we should head back. I'm pretty sure it's raining."

He nods and slowly unwraps his arms from around you. "I agree, but where's Tan?" His eyes frantically scan around the beach. "Tan!" he calls, and soon, two fluffy, slightly damp ears pop out from behind a rock.

"Aww," you exclaim, bending down to pick up the little dog when he trots over. "Look at him. We neglected the baby."

Taehyung snorts at your remark. "He'll be okay. It barely started."

You pretend to cover Tan's ears and shoot Taehyung a faux alarmed expression. "He can hear you, you know."

Taehyung chuckles and gently cups Tan’s face while he nestles in your arms, planting a soft kiss on the top of his head. “Sorry, buddy,” he says with a grin. As he looks up, he catches a prolonged gaze in your eyes and raises an eyebrow. “What? You want one too?”

“Oh, uhm, no,” you laugh, a bit nervously, shaking your head. “It’s just nice to see you so endearing.” You think back to how Taehyung had interacted so sweetly with his younger cousin, Eun-ha, earlier. It’s a side of him you're finding increasingly appealing.

Taehyung's gaze softens as he replies, “I like to take care of those I love.”

Love, you repeat quietly to yourself. It sounds so different when he says it.

You smile and, side by side, head back to the house.

The faint drizzle of rain quickly turns into a downpour, with a flash of lightning illuminating the sky and thunder rumbling in the distance. Despite the potential inconvenience, Taehyung’s parents insist that it would be better for both of you to wait until morning to drive back.

"It isn't safe," his mom advises, fluffing a pillow in the guest bedroom. "The two of you can stay here for the night. I’d offer the living room sofa too, but some of your cousins are staying over as well."

"Thanks, Mom," Taehyung replies, and when she leaves the room he casts a brief glance your way. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“What? No, you can sleep in the bed with Tan." You pause, eyes scanning the room for an alternative spot. “This chair looks pretty comfortable. I’ll grab a blanket and make do.”

"Okay no, I’m not letting you sleep on that old, dusty chair and risk waking up with a giant kink in your neck.” Taehyung places his hands on his hips, his tone firm. “Why don’t we just sleep in the bed together? For some inexplicable reason, my parents chose to put a California King in here so there should be plenty of room. I’ll even sleep on top of the covers.”

“No, it's fine. Tan needs his space."

“Sweetheart." There it is again, that same petname from earlier. Why do you not seem to hate it? "Tan is so tiny he’ll literally curl between us," he argues, though it does little to convince you.

“Tae, I told you it’s—”

“Alright, I’ll take the chair then-” Taehyung starts to move toward it, but stubbornly, you block his path. There's no way he's sleeping on a chair when you're the guest here.

“You will do no such thing!" Naturally, you place your hands on your hips. “This is your home—well, your parent's home and I won't be subjecting you to sleep on something that small. Seriously Tae, I'd fit much better on it than you would given our height differences.”

A small, frustrated sigh escapes him as he counters, “I'd really rather you be comfortable, especially in an unfamiliar environment. So can we please stop arguing about this? It’s really unnecessary. Either I take the chair or we both find a way to share the bed. You can’t tell me you and Jimin never shared a bed before, and he’s your friend too!"

“Yes, but that’s different,” you insist. “Jimin and I have been friends for years! There’s a strong trust built between us.”

“What do you mean by that? You don’t trust me?” His face mirrors that of a sad, puppy-dog.

“Tae, it’s not that at all,” you say softly, trying to sound reassuring. “I do trust you. It’s just… I guess I just meant that Jimin and I have a long history together. We’ve grown very comfortable with each other in ways you and I haven’t yet.”

Taehyung’s brows furrow in concern. “What are you really worried about, __?”

You shrug, feeling a bit flustered. “Nothing…”

Your mind immediately drifts back to the beach—how he listened, held your hand gently, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, and what it felt like to be held so close under the rain. Everything felt so genuine, warm, and openly vulnerable.

You share similar feelings with Jimin, but they have limits as you are definitely only friends… best friends, to be precise. With Taehyung, you figured it would be the same; however, after today, you're realizing more and more how unsure you are of where the limits are (or where you want them to be), and it startles you.

But it’s not this alone that fuels your apprehension tonight— there’s something else.

“You know I won’t do anything right?” Taehyung asks, his voice earnest. “I sleep with five pillows!”

You raise an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “Five? What the hell, Tae? Are you a princess?”

“Yes,” Taehyung says, more nonchalantly than expected, “but stop deflecting. It sounds weird and a bit kinky, but why won’t you sleep in the bed with me?”

Should you tell him?

Your expression grows serious as you explain, “Because it can be very intimate,” you murmur softly. “Maybe I'm overthinking it all, but the last time I shared a bed with someone it...uhm...it was…”

“...with your ex-husband,” Taehyung finishes for you, his tone gentle with understanding. His eyes soften as he looks at you.

“Yes…” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s silly, but I haven’t done it in a long time. Even Jimin and I haven’t shared a bed in years.”

“I’m sorry…” Taehyung says, his voice filled with genuine regret.

“Tae, you don’t have to be sorry,” you say, shaking your head. “It’s my own issue. I’ll just sleep on the chair, alright? It’s only one night.”

“Not happening, you’ll take the bed with Tan.”

“Seriously,” you start to protest, but he’s already moving toward the foot of the bed with determination in his eyes. He grabs the blanket from the end and rushes over to the chair with haste. You run after him, pulling at his arm, and both of you end up laughing, the tension gradually breaking.

“It's been a very long day and I'm quite tired, __. How about turning off the lights, please?” He spreads out the blanket and settles into the chair with a satisfied sigh. Then, there’s a loud creak followed by a distinct cracking sound.

“Fuck—” Taehyung swears as the chair suddenly collapses under his weight. He rises from his seat, grimacing at the broken chair. “I knew it was old, but damn, I didn’t think it was that old.”

“Shit, please tell me this wasn't a family heirloom or something.”

“Uh… I don’t think so?” Taehyung scratches his head, looking sheepish. “I’ll let my mom know in the morning. It’ll be fine, okay? No worries. But, um, I’ll sleep on the floor instead.” Taehyung then grabs a couple pillows and a blanket and starts forming a makeshift bed on the floor. While you watch him, your heart softens despite your exhaustion.

“Alright, enough,” you sigh, exasperated. “If we keep this up, we’ll just be going in circles all night. Let’s just share the bed, Tae. It’s not worth you being uncomfortable.”

Taehyung looks up, concern written over his face. “Are you sure? I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable either. I’m happy to—”

“I’m sure,” you cut him off, doing your best not to overthink it. “You're the one who'll be driving for five hours tomorrow anyway, so let’s just get some decent rest. It's okay, really.”

After a good long pause, you both end up climbing into the bed, each taking your own side as Tan curls himself at the foot of the bed. Taehyung reaches over to turn off the light, but despite the calmness of the room, you find yourself unable to sleep right away. You’re unaware he feels similarly until he unexpectedly breaks the silence.

“Are you warm enough?” he asks quietly. “We have more blankets if you need them.”

You turn slightly toward him. “I’m okay for now, but thanks for checking.”

He gives a soft, reassuring smile. “Alright. Just let me know if you need anything. Sleep well.”

“Thanks, Tae.” You roll back onto your side and close your eyes. “You too.”

As the night deepens, the storm outside continues its relentless drumming against the windows. At some point, Taehyung jolts awake to a faint but unmistakable sound.

He blinks groggily at first, adjusting to the dim light filtering through the curtains. Then he notices your restless movements and hears you murmuring softly in your sleep, a note of distress in your voice.

"__?" he asks quietly, still half-asleep. "Are you okay?"

When you don’t respond, he shifts closer, concerned by the unease on your face. Seeing your share of the blankets has slipped off, he gently tugs them back over you, making sure they cover you comfortably.

Amid the movement, a muddled groan escapes your lips—something between a whimper and a sigh, "Mmm… no…"

It doesn't take a genius to figure out you must be having a nightmare of some sort. “It’s just a dream,” he whispers soothingly, brushing a stray hair from your face. “You’re safe here with me.”

He gently takes your slightly trembling hand and holds it gently in his. “I’m right here, __,” he sighs softly. “No matter what happens, I’ll always be here.”

Taehyung isn’t sure how much time passes before your restlessness stops, but he stays awake, hand clutching yours until it does. Eventually, assuming you’ve finally entered a more peaceful sleep, he releases your hand and rolls onto his side.

What he doesn't expect is for you to unconsciously follow him over, your body snuggling against his back. The warmth of your body against his is comforting, but he knows he can't let you stay there and risk any awkwardness in the morning. So with the utmost care, he rolls over to face you and gently adjusts your body until you're lying comfortably on your back again.

"I hope you'll be able to sleep better now," he whispers, his voice barely audible above the storm. "Goodnight."

Following the reunion, you and Taehyung part ways with mutual thank-yous and promises to see each other soon.

Time seems to vanish afterward as you find yourself increasingly buried under an endless pile of work projects. Apparently, over the weekend, a notable investor reached out to your company with hopes of setting up a meeting.

Namjoon is nearly tripping over his words when he relays the message to you.

"Can you believe it?" Your secretary stands within a foot from your desk, excitement evident in his voice. "They want to meet with us! This could be huge for our company."

You share his enthusiasm but your need to remain holistic in the matter tempers your ability to feel overly zealous. Meetings with investors always carry significant opportunities; however, there's no guarantee a deal will be struck. Truthfully, it depends on a number of factors, their level of interest outweighing them all.

Plus, every meeting requires extensive preparation—late nights where you tirelessly hunch over your computer, perfecting every detail of the pitch and this one promises to be no different.

"Did they happen to mention a time or date for further discussion?" you ask, matter-of-factly. Namjoon nods, pulling out his phone.

"Yes, they suggested next Wednesday at 10 AM.”

You weigh the proposal in your mind. “That should give us enough time to get everything in order, then,” you conclude. “Please put it in our calendar and let them know we’ll be ready to meet on that day.”

From then on, the remainder of your week unfolds exactly as you anticipate—relentless preparation, long nights, and meticulous planning until the small of your back aches for relief. One might say it's an exaggeration, but the only breaks you can afford are for primal necessities like eating, sleeping, and using the bathroom.

Even your weekend is spent within the walls of your home office, a far cry from previous weekends when you used to visit the book café or meet up with Taehyung.

Speaking of which, you haven’t really gotten to see each other since his family gathering and though it was only a week ago, the lack of his presence leaves you feeling a bit disheartened. He replied to your text yesterday, but even so, it was brief—something about a new project or talk show interview was keeping him busy as well.

By the time Wednesday arrives, your neck is so riddled with the stress of the upcoming investor meeting that you can barely focus on your proposal notes. Everything in you hopes that the investors will be impressed enough to partner with you, but thinking about it does nothing except heighten your nervousness.

In search of some kind of solace, your mind wanders to Taehyung instead. The memory of the small dance you shared with him on the beach is once again vivid, as if it happened just moments ago—the soft sand beneath your feet, the sound of the waves, and the way his gentle hands gripped around your waist.

But why does this memory, out of all the possibilities, feel so soothing?

You've been struggling to come to a plausible conclusion since the day it happened, yet deep down, you know it’s not as trivial as it seems. You miss it, your subconscious hums, you miss him.

Just then, Namjoon pokes his head into your office, signaling that the investors have arrived in the conference room. You send a curt nod in reply and gather your notes, refocusing your mind on the task at hand; everything else will have to wait.

Turns out, you might have been a bit too pessimistic about the investor meeting. They’re surprisingly pleased with your plans and proposals, nodding along to each of your points. However, their request for a day or two to reach a final decision catches you a tad off guard.

Rather than grapple with the uncertainty though, you decide to mentally prepare for whatever comes next... starting by decompressing at the bar downtown, a glass of their strongest alcohol in hand.

At first, finding a seat proves to be a challenge as you navigate through a sea of sweaty bodies. But luck, seemingly on your side, provides you with an empty chair at the far end of the bar. While you sit and order your drink, you can't help but wonder what Taehyung might be doing tonight. Should you text him to see if he’d join you, even if only for fifteen minutes?

Slipping your phone from the side pocket of your bag, you curse silently at your apparent haste. Your subconscious was right—you really have missed him, damn.

All at once, your thoughts are put to an abrupt stop when you take a quick glance around the bar, your gaze unprepared to land on two familiar silhouettes at the opposite end—Namjoon, with Taehyung next to him, drinks in hand. You don’t know how you failed to notice them before. They’re laughing, clearly enjoying each other’s company, and for a moment, your face lifts into a smile.

But that smile quickly fades when you catch sight of two women sauntering over to join them. Your initial joy is swiftly replaced by a sharp sting of jealousy and you chastise yourself for the feeling. Who are you to react this way? Taehyung can do whatever he wants—why should you care who he’s out with?

Forcing yourself to shake off the feeling, you take a sip of your drink, but your gaze keeps drifting back to the group. It’s obvious that the taller of the two women, arguably as stunning as Taehyung, is laser-focused on him, her hand brushing his arm lightly as she laughs at whatever joke he’s just told. Probably a dumb one, you think bitterly; it's obvious she's not just there for the humor and booze. It's strange to witness, as you've only known Taehyung to allow a few, select women to touch him so openly—his mother, his onscreen cast members, and you.

Okay __, stop, you scold yourself. This is a bad idea; you’re getting too involved for your own good. Hastily, you finish your drink and head out of the bar, the cool night air brushing against your skin. If Taehyung goes home with her, it’s none of your business.

You're barely a few feet outside the bar's door when you hear commotion echo from a nearby alley. Alarmed, you whip towards the noise, your eyes widening in disbelief. There, in the dim light, you see your ex-husband doubled over, clutching his stomach, while a shadowy figure stands in front of him, fist clenched.

You’re not sure where the courage comes from, but within seconds, you're springing to action, racing towards the scene with a surge of adrenaline. “Hey!” you shout as loudly as you can. The attacker glances back, frazzled, then bolts into the night, leaving Jungkook hunched against the alley wall.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” you ask frantically, rushing to his side and helping him to his feet. He flinches away from your touch initially, his face a mix of panic and agony. “It’s me, Jungkook. It's __. Can you hear me? It’s okay, I’m here,” you reassure him the best you can, hoping to ease him.

Jungkook takes a few shaky breaths, body still weak as he struggles to hold himself up against the wall. His eyes are glazed, and he seems disoriented. “I… I didn’t expect you,” he mutters, his voice strained.

Offering him an arm, you help him steady himself. “Let’s get you out of here, okay?” He nods weakly, and as you guide him towards the parking lot and into the light, you ask, "What happened back there? Do you need me to take you to the hospital?"

Jungkook sighs, wincing slightly. “No, it’s... I’m fine. He was just a kid—no more than 21. Angry, probably a little drunk, and accused me of being the reason his father got fired. At first, I was confused, but then I vaguely recognized him as being one of our employee’s sons. Pretty sure it was my dad who fired his—I was probably just an easier target."

You both fall into a contemplative silence as you continue walking. Of course Jungkook's father, the chairman of the company, would be behind this, you think. Previous times spent with him had shown you how ruthless he could be when it came to the "well-being" of his company. Whoever the kid was, he probably had a right to be angry, but physically taking it out on Jungkook wasn’t justifiable by any means.

“You sure you don’t need a doctor?” you ask, glancing at him with concern.

He shakes his head dismissively, "Don't worry about me," he replies. "A couple of punches to the gut won't kill me. I think it's about time I head home though."

You nod in agreement. “Where did you park?”

He points to a spot on the far left side of the parking lot, and you nearly groan at the sight. “Did you have to bring your bike tonight?” you ask, a hint of exasperation in your voice.

Jungkook gives a weak smile, understanding the inconvenience of the situation. “Thought I’d ride it in case I needed to get somewhere fast,” he replies, his voice strained but with a touch of humor.

"Come on," you say, walking him toward your car instead. "We might not be married anymore, but there’s no way in hell I'm letting you ride your bike home in this condition. You can pick it up tomorrow."

Jungkook chuckles weakly. “Damn, and to think we were about to ride it together for old times’ sake. You used to be pretty good with my motorcycle back when you were my girlfriend, __." You roll your eyes, patience thinning. If this is another one of his sexual advances, you’re long over it.

"Yeah, well, that was before Taehyung’s accident scared me half to death," you retort. "And for the record, I was never your girlfriend. We went from work partners straight to I do." You open the passenger door and help him into the seat, giving him a gentle shove. "Now sit tight and no more motorcycle talk."

Jungkook leans back and raises an eyebrow with a playful smirk. “Well, what are we gonna talk about then? It’s a twenty-minute drive to my place.”

You slide into the driver’s seat and start the engine, giving him the go-ahead to enter his address into your car’s GPS. “Are you really whining already?”

As Jungkook taps away on the GPS, you’re suddenly reminded of a series of past car trips you shared with him. It’s almost like déjà vu.

“Seriously, __,” he starts, allowing his playful demeanor to fade. “Thank you for doing this for me. I know we… well, we aren’t exactly on the best terms.”

From the corner of your eye, you observe the way he aimlessly stares out the window, unsure whether to meet your gaze.

"We may not be in the best place, but that doesn’t mean I’d just leave you there," you sigh, gripping the steering wheel tighter. A long pause follows afterward until the question that's been gnawing at you finally slips from your lips. "How's everything with the company?"

Seemingly unfazed, as if he’d been anticipating the question, Jungkook replies, “I’m guessing you’ve heard the rumors.”

“Hard not to,” you say, keeping your eyes on the road.

He takes a deep breath before continuing, "Well, it's um... it's a sabbatical. I know it's probably a shock, right? My father isn’t too thrilled about it, so he’s delayed the official announcement until we reach a final consensus. But things have been... complicated. Our newest product launched recently, and it’s doing well, but now I think I need some time for myself. To take a step back.”

Well, shit.

Even with all the rumors, you never would have guessed in a million years that the truth of the matter was an impending sabbatical. Jungkook has always been the type to work himself until his hands bleed, so this is the last reason you expected to hear.

“I’m glad to hear you’re finally letting yourself have a break, but honestly, it doesn’t sound like you at all. Feel free not to share, but what do you mean by ‘complicated’?” The way he frames it sounds almost ominous.

“You really want to know?” He finally glances at you for the first time since getting into the car, his eyes carrying a hint of vulnerability.

“Only if you want to share,” you reply cautiously.

He looks down at his hands, gathering his thoughts. “So, remember when we last saw each other a few months back? Well, I’ve been reflecting a lot on our relationship since then. I know I wasn’t fair to you, __, and I really wish I could take it all back. You never deserved any of it. I was incredibly selfish and I’m truly sorry.”

You remain silent, thrown off by how quickly everything circles back to your fragile past together. Still, you allow him to speak.

"Before we parted ways, you suggested I see a professional, and… I thought I'd finally take your advice for once. It’s strange because I’d never gone before, but…”

He pauses, searching for the right words. “I’m starting to understand a lot about myself—why I react the way I do and how I handle things. It’s been tough, but I’m trying. I guess I’m taking this sabbatical because I need to figure myself out, away from work, so I can be better and stop hurting people around me."

For the first time in a long time, as you listen to your ex-husband, you realize he's beginning to sound genuinely mature. If it's true that he's been seeing a therapist and taking a sabbatical to prioritize his well-being, then you're extremely proud of him.

Yet, a small part of you remains stubborn, wishing he had made these changes earlier—imagine where you might be now if he had.

“Thank you for being open enough to share this with me," you respond slowly, careful not to misspeak. "Though I’m still a little surprised, I have to say I’m really proud of you for seeking help. I’ve been seeing someone as well, and it took me some time to settle in too, but I suppose that’s part of the healing process—being uncomfortable to an extent. We’ve had our share of challenges with one another, but despite everything, I’ll always wish the best for you, Jungkook—including your health and mental well-being.”

As you pull into the driveway of his house, parking the car near the front door, Jungkook takes a deep breath and turns to you, visibly affected. "It means a lot that you'd say that, __," he starts hesitantly, hands fidgeting in his lap. "I know I've made a lot of mistakes, and I understand if you can't forgive me completely. But I want you to know that I am sorry. I wasn’t fair to you and I'm not proud of my behavior at all."

You nod in response, a small, tight-lipped smile forming. His remorse for the past is finally sincere, yet even now, as he looks at you with those hopeful eyes—the same ones you carried for months on end—you know he's searching for more than just your forgiveness.

But this time, you don’t think you can offer him more than that.

Because while you grew fond of him during your marriage, you've come to realize how unearned and misplaced that affection was. He broke your heart not once, but twice. And although you can never hate him, deep down, you can't ignore the lingering sting you feel when you're around him.

It's both sobering and eye-opening.

So, rather than reversing into old emotions, you simply say, "I believe you, Jungkook, and I think with time I'll be able to forgive you. If there’s ever a time when you’re in dire need of help, like tonight, I’ll do my best to be there. I’m afraid that’s as far as we can go, though."

It’s written all over his face that it’s not what he was hoping to hear, but respectfully, he doesn’t press further.

"I understand," he says, fingers reaching to for the passenger door handle. "Thank you again for being there for me tonight, and for driving me home. Please feel free to reach out if you ever need me as well. I hope for the best for you too, however and with whoever you choose."

The two of you exchange a brief look of gratitude before he finally pulls the door open and steps out of the car, making his way to his front door.

"Have a good night, and rest up," you call out to him. He smiles, gives a wave, and heads inside.

As you slowly back out of the driveway, you sigh, leaving only one person ruminating in your mind: Taehyung.

Then, inevitably, images of the stunning woman at the bar with him intrude your thoughts, stirring a deep, unsettling emotion within you.

Does it really matter that much who he's out with?

Are you really that jealous about it?

Mentally, you go back and forth as if plucking petals from a large sunflower… Yes. No. Yes. No. Until—Silence.

You can't seem to give a straight answer. It's like the closer you and Taehyung grow, the more undefinable and knotted your feelings become. Yet, the further apart you are, the more unnatural it feels...

Well, your indecisiveness doesn’t get any better by Friday because, finally, after what feels like an eternity, you and Taehyung have plans.

You’re heading out for dinner at a restaurant of his choosing tonight, as he insisted you go somewhere new. Where could it be? You have no clue, and while surprises aren’t usually your thing, his enthusiasm when you confirmed plans earlier has left you intrigued. There’s also this faint, inexplicably giddy feeling in your stomach that won’t go away, coinciding with a slight nervousness.

With such a seemingly important occasion, you find yourself in front of your bedroom mirror, twisting from side to side in what’s probably the fifth outfit you’ve tried on. But nothing seems to fit quite right. You’re feeling especially frustrated to be frank, as something that usually takes you twenty minutes is turning into a whole hour.

You end up tossing one final dress over your head—a bit more elegant for the occasion, but it’s one of the few items you own that accentuates your body down to the last detail. The dress hugs around your waist and falls just above your knees, its rich color perfectly complementing your skin tone. But isn’t it a little revealing? The neckline dips down further than you remember.

Crap—the alarm on your phone suddenly chimes, reminding you that Taehyung's arriving in ten minutes. You're running out of time.

"You’re being ridiculous. It’ll be fine,” you reassure yourself, smoothing down the skirt of the dress. “You're just friends. He won’t care.”

“Friends” stings more than you anticipated, leaving a bitter aftertaste and a deflated feeling in your chest.

Nevertheless, you give yourself one last look in the mirror, apply a quick swipe of lipstick, and head downstairs. Just as you finish slipping on your shoes and grabbing your purse from the coat rack, the doorbell rings, causing your heart to leap from your chest.

Deciding to rip it off like a band-aid, you toss open the door, and there he is—standing on your doorstep with his signature boxy grin and gently tousled raven hair. Taehyung's dressed in a tailored blazer and matching slacks over a crisp white t-shirt, and you find yourself at a complete loss for words as if you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be around him.

Maybe it’s something in the air, but he appears equally stunned, looking you up and down with wide eyes. His gaze soon softens into admiration as he takes in your entire appearance. “Wow,” he chokes, clearly impressed. “You look amazing.”

You feel a rush of warmth at his compliment and muster all your strength to keep from looking away flustered. “Thank you,” your voice wavers slightly. “You look pretty great yourself.”

Tongue in cheek, he replies with a playful smirk, “I was hoping you’d say that,” which prompts you to lightly punch him in the arm.

“Don't be arrogant.”

He chuckles, rubbing his arm with a grin. “Shall we head out?”

You nod and step outside, locking the door behind you.

The drive to the restaurant is a brief one, and you're immediately struck by the charm of its exterior when you arrive—stone walls, covered with vines of ivy and warm glowing lanterns. Inside is even more beautiful, with wooden shelves lined with old books and bottles of fine wine wrapping around the room. You're starting to understand why Taehyung was so insistent on bringing you here; the place perfectly reflects his taste and, unexpectedly, yours as well.

One of the hosts leads you to a deep mahogany table after confirming your reservation. The closer you get to it, the more you notice the crisp white linens and small tealight candles that sit on top, setting a romantic scene. If you had to describe the feeling, it would be as though you’ve been transported straight to a quaint corner of France.

"So, what do you think?” Seated across from you, Taehyung looks at you with bated breath. His fingers fidget with the edge of the table, nervously anticipating your verdict.

“Honestly? It’s so charming,” you reply, glancing around in awe. “I didn’t even realize we had a place like this around.”

At this, his demeanor relaxes, and a pleased smile spreads across his face. “It’s a bit hidden, but once I found it, it quickly became one of my favorite spots.” He pauses, then adds, “This is actually the same restaurant I wanted to take you to months ago, before my accident.”

“What? You’re serious?” you blink in shock as the realization slowly sinks in. You take another look around the restaurant—the rows of books, the bottles of wine, the elegant dining atmosphere—and suddenly, it all makes sense. How did you miss it before? “I’m sorry we didn’t come sooner,” you say softly, regretful of having turned down his offer before.

“It’s okay,” Taehyung's quick to reassure you, reaching out to lightly touch your hand. “What matters is that we’re here now. And honestly, I’m just happy to finally share it with you.” He gives you a warm smile, and immediately, you feel a small lump form in the back of your throat.

“Thank you for bringing us here tonight,” you say, “It’s wonderful, and I’m really glad we could make it up.”

“Of course,” he replies, “I thought it was a place we’d both enjoy.”

Everything about his responses seems to carry a heightened level of endearment and attentiveness, as if there’s more hidden beneath them.

Perhaps selfishly, you also sense there’s something uniquely special about this night—something you believe only exists between the two of you. So, when Taehyung retracts his hand, you feel a fleeting instinct to reach out and grasp it again, but you stop yourself short.

What are you thinking? This isn’t a date.

Needing a distraction, you grab the menu and start scanning the options.

Taehyung sees the way your gaze drifts and tilts his head, a concerned expression on his face. “Everything alright?” he asks gently.

You nod, forcing a smile. “Yeah,” you reply, trying to sound casual. “I'm just getting pretty hungry with all the food I smell.”

He chuckles, "Same here," then picks up a menu of his own.

The two of you sit in silence for the next few minutes, fixated on the food and wine list. You find yourself stealing glances at him from time to time, and unbeknownst to you, he does the same.

After the waiter takes your orders, Taehyung leans forward, resting his chin on his palm. “How’s everything at work been? I’ve been meaning to ask.”

Your face lights up at this. “Highs and lows," you reply, voice brightening, "but we got some exciting news today. I met with a potential investor earlier this week, and they’ve agreed to partner with the company. It’s a big win for us!”

Sharing your enthusiasm, Taehyung raises his wine glass, implicating you to follow suit. “This calls for a toast,” he says. “I know it must have meant long nights for you, but I’m so glad they recognized the value of you and your work. Seriously, __, you should be incredibly proud of this!"

You clink your glass with his, a light chuckle escaping you. There's something uniquely satisfying about sharing even the smallest things with him.

The conversation flows more comfortably from there, with Taehyung eagerly asking about the details of your new partnership. You reciprocate by asking about his current work projects, and soon, you both get lost in discussion, naturally causing your conversation to grow increasingly spontaneous. By the time your food arrives, the two of you must have easily covered fifty topics.

With the evening gradually becoming one of the most enjoyable you’ve had, the initial butterflies you felt at the start almost fade away... almost. That is, until you near the end of the meal and Taehyung looks at you with a seriousness in his eyes.

“I’m really glad we could do this tonight," he says, "We’ve both been so caught up with work lately that we haven’t had much time to spend together… I’ve missed it."

"Missed..." The simple six-letter word echoes in the back of your mind in a hushed murmur. It feels nice knowing you aren’t the only one affected by the recent distance.

“Me too,” you reply, more breathy than intended. Before you can fully process your words, you find yourself adding, “I’ve missed you a lot myself.”

A flush of embarrassment twists in your stomach the moment the words leave your mouth. You shouldn’t have said it like that—it almost sounded like… pining? God, you can’t even blame it on the alcohol at this point; you barely had one full glass of wine. Contrary to what you'd expect, Taehyung looks at you with a hint of shyness.

“You know,” he begins, briefly eyeing your dress, “you really do look great tonight. I’ve been a bit worried these past couple of weeks, seeing how much you work and how little sleep you get. But now… I'm relieved to see you looking so well.”

You blush. If only he saw you before tonight—greasy hair, bloodshot eyes, and oversized sweats on, you think. Evidently, tonight was an exception.

"I guess I've been worried about you too if I’m being honest,” you admit, shifting slightly in your seat. "The last time we saw each other was at your family reunion. It feels like it was ages ago for some odd reason."

“I know what you mean,” he says softly, gaze lingering on yours a moment longer than usual. “It’s strange going so long without seeing each other. It feels…unnatural.”

All at once, you pause, unsure if you heard right. Did Taehyung really say "unnatural"? It’s exactly how you’ve felt about the distance this entire time, but you hadn’t expected him to feel the same. Your mind struggles to process the sheer coincidence and its possible implications—was there something more to your relationship than you had realized?

While you try to make sense of it all, Taehyung’s raspy voice pulls you back to the present. “Well, uh, we should probably head out,” he suggests lightly, breaking the silence. You nod in agreement, though it does little to deter you from your thoughts.

You find yourself fidgeting with the hem of your dress the entire drive back, occasionally glancing at Taehyung in silence. His hands grip the steering wheel tightly, eyes focused on the road, yet you could’ve sworn his mouth parted at one point as if he was about to say something. But then, he held back. You wonder what he might’ve wanted to say, but you’re no better—hesitant to breathe a word yourself.

Why are neither of you speaking all of a sudden? It feels tense and unfamiliar.

In what feels like a blink of an eye, you're standing at your front door again, Taehyung close beside you. The space between you feels smaller this time, with unspoken words still lingering, but it’s clear that despite having your keys in hand, neither of you are ready to part ways just yet.

“__?” He speaks first, voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes?” You respond, turning to face him fully.

Taehyung takes a deep breath when you do, his usual warmth replaced by a heavy, unreadable expression. “There- there's something that’s been on my mind,” he begins, voice trembling slightly. “I've been going back and forth tonight on whether or not to tell you."

“Okay, what is it?” you ask, pulse quickening.

“It’s about us..." He hesitates, gnawing on his bottom lip slightly before continuing. "Earlier tonight, when I said I've missed being able to see you, I wasn’t lying. If anything, it was likely an understatement because, no matter how busy I was, I kept thinking about you—our time at my parents' place, and how you always came to visit me when I was in the hospital."

He pauses, his fist clenching nervously.

"I’ve realized since then that maybe the reason why is because somehow…you've always been more than a friend to me,” he confesses softly.

Searching your face for a reaction, Taehyung mistakes your blank expression for discomfort. Little does he know, however, that your stillness is merely due to shock, as every nerve in your body threatens to awaken. It feels surreal, you think. Sure, you had a small inkling that tonight felt different and Taehyung was sweeter than usual, but eighty percent of you chalked it up as nothing more than overthinking or projection.

Now, you realize how short-sighted you’ve been, convincing yourself that you could only ever be friends and denying the rest when it's been quite the opposite.

“I’m sorry," he adds sheepishly. "It must be a lot to take in. I don’t want to lose you or our friendship, but with my feelings growing, I think I’ll always want more. I thought it would be better for you to know.”

You see the sincerity in his eyes as he speaks, and though he patiently waits for your response, you’re unsure where to start. It’s not that you question Taehyung’s genuineness or intentions, or that you don’t reciprocate his feelings—you haven’t shared such a deep connection with someone in a long time, if ever.

Rather, it’s the years of a mostly apathetic marriage that leave you feeling wary.

What would a relationship with Taehyung be like?

Would you truly love each other?

For how long?

What startles you most is the possibility that if you and Taehyung really do this and it doesn’t work out, you’ll be left even more devastated than before.

When you finally speak, your voice wavers slightly. “To tell you the truth, a big part of me is relieved that you told me all of this,” you admit slowly, your hands clammy. “I thought I sensed a shift between us at your parents' and again this evening. But I also thought I was reading too much into things, convinced it was just us getting closer as friends do."

"I guess what I’m trying to say is that I was wrong because I've been wanting more with you too," you continue. "It's like the further away we are, the worse I seem to feel, and I can't help but wonder what it would look like if we were more than friends. The thought scares me as much as it excites me, though…for reasons I'm sure you already know."

You're uneasy about how he'll react until, all at once, his eyes fill with warmth and his hands gently reach for yours, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on the backs.

“Do you remember when we were at the beach and you asked who’d risk it for you?” Taehyung asks. You nod, recalling the exact moment. “You also asked if I loved you, and I agreed to both that day. I didn’t realize how much those words would come full circle, but I meant it then, and I mean it now. I will love you, __, in the way you've always meant to be. I'm pretty sure I'm at least halfway in love with you already, and not just because we're friends."

Wordless, you stand facing each other, your hands still held in his, eyes steady in the brisk night air. His gaze then drifts from your eyes to your lips and back again. The movement is subtle, but in that brief moment, you let your eyes fall to his lips as well.

Taehyung’s waiting for your answer, but you can’t stop thinking of what would happen if you just…

Adrenaline takes over from there, and before you fully process it, you’re leaning in to close the distance between you, pressing your lips to his. The sudden touch catches Taehyung off guard, but he quickly responds with gentle, tender kisses. A soft smile tugs at his lips as he deepens the embrace, one hand finding its way to your face while the other rests on your back, pulling you closer.

Sooner than you realize, he begins deepening the kiss as well, eliciting small, breathy moans. At this point, you can feel the tent forming in his trousers, but he makes no move to grind into you yet. Rather, the hands that grip around you tighten, not enough to hurt, but enough that your body pushes further against his firmer chest. You suspect your back will meet the hard surface of your front door within the next three seconds, allowing your entire neighborhood a show, but before then, you're interrupted by a subtle stirring in the pit of your stomach.

"Wait, I'm sorry-" you suddenly break the kiss, a rush of nerves returning. It’s been a long time since you’ve shared such meaningful kisses with someone, and the intensity of it has you feeling overwhelmed. "I'm so sorry," you repeat.

When Taehyung sees you aren’t backing away but rather standing completely still, he settles his hands around your waist, gently drawing you further into a soft embrace. "You don't need to apologize," he assures. "I'm the one who took it further than I should've when I want this to be comfortable for both of us.”

You take a small breath, "You didn't do anything wrong, Tae, I'm just a little nervous due the newness of everything. I think I’d be best if we wait before going any further tonight….but I’m also not ready for you to leave yet. Is there any way you could maybe come in for a bit? To lounge?”

Taehyung nods, “I completely understand wanting to wait. The last thing I want to do is rush anything.” Concerned about possibly pressuring you, he adds, "Are you sure about me coming in though? It's getting late and I don't want to keep you up."

"Please," you murmur, "just for a little while, if you can.”

“Okay," he agrees, thumbs brushing lightly against your sides, "I can stay."

a/n: ajdfhg, TYSM for reading!! Love you all 🥰

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no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[togenabi]

my home is where your heart is

inumaki toge x reader

♡—your things keep winding up in toge's place, and his things in yours. what are you going to do about it?

word count♡— 1k

genre♡— fluff. pure fluff

content notes♡— blushy toge, established relationship, moving in together, dancing in the kitchen in the refrigerator light vibes, megumi gives advice

also on♡— ao3

author's note♡— this is an overdue request! anon, if you see this I'm sorry this took me a while! I kept it short, but did not hold back on the fluff. please enjoy!

“Toge,” You call for your boyfriend, who is currently sprawled over your couch. “Have you seen my charger?”

Toge looks up from his phone, pausing for a moment to think. After briefly looking confused, he lights up and lifts his hands to sign, ‘I think you left it at my place.’

“Ah,” Not again. Must this always happen? “Remind me to get it back next time we’re there.”

He nods and gets up, gesturing for you to hand over your phone. Toge moves to charge it with his own charger.

“Thanks.” You kiss his cheek, relishing the way he blushes. Flustered, it takes him more than one try to plug the charger into the wall socket. You can’t help but shake your head at him. He’s just too cute sometimes.

About the case of things going missing, however, it happens to Toge too.

You were cleaning up your apartment when it suddenly started raining. Thoughts of Toge in the rain immediately caused you to worry, but you managed to calm down somewhat. He should be fine since he has an umbrella.

Only, he doesn’t. You stare at the compact, foldable umbrella in horror. It’s positioned beside yours at your apartment’s entryway.

Toge, completely drenched, arrives at your place an hour or so after that. Luckily, you anticipated as much, and already had a change of clothes, towels, and warm food ready for him.

He gives you a kiss on the cheek this time, walking backwards into the bathroom, forming a heart with his hands and a goofy smile glowing on his face.

The more time you and Toge spent in each other’s places, the more your things seemed to shuffle about. Your book on his desk. His jacket in your closet. An accessory of yours on his bedside table. That snack he bought is somewhere in your cupboard. It was getting confusing, how your lives were getting tangled up in two separate places.

“The solution is obvious, isn’t it?” Megumi asks one night when you bumped into him at a convenience store. “Move in with him.”

“Oh.” Speechless, you can only blink at him in response. “We’ve never really talked about that.”

Megumi shrugs, “Sounds like that talk’s overdue, if you ask me.”

And maybe it is, because you’re seriously considering it when you can’t find a single pen in your apartment. Why do ballpens vanish when you need them, and why are there so many of them when you don’t?

But of course, you find your favorite ballpen in a mug Toge had turned into a pen holder, sitting with his other pens and markers.

You must have been staring at the pen—at his desk—for quite some time. It makes Toge look at you with concern in his eyes.

“Takana?” He asks, checking on you while resting a hand on your arm.

Snapping out of it, you try to gather your courage to bring up living together. There’s no reason for him to say no, right? And you’d be fine whichever place he chooses. Or maybe, you could meet in the middle and  look for somewhere new?

The thought of apartment hunting with Toge strangely sends butterflies in your stomach. But before you get ahead of yourself, you have to properly ask him about it first.

“What do you think about living together?” You blurt out, and your heartbeat feels rapid and unsteady. Suddenly, it feels like you’re confessing to him all over again.

Toge breathes out a laugh, pulling you into his arms. Nestling his head into the crook of your neck, he accepts. “Shake.” 

“Really?” Stunned that it was that easy, it takes you a second before you return his embrace. “Where should we go?”

He pulls back to kiss the tip of your nose cutely. Smiling, he motions to sign, ‘Wherever you want! I’ll follow you anywhere.’

It takes several weeks of planning and headaches, but you and Toge manage to find a new home. It’s close by, still in the same neighborhood that you’re used to. You didn’t want to move too far from this community and your loved ones. 

Other than that, your main goal was to find a place with more space than either of your previous residences. You wanted to organize storage properly. Contrary to your expectations and true to his word, Toge wasn’t picky at all. He was just happy to always be close to you.

As you were unpacking food and supplies in the kitchen, you looked over at your boyfriend. He was sitting cross-legged on the carpet, configuring the wifi. 

“Toge, should we have food delivered? Or would you like to cook in the new kitchen?”

Mouthing, he responds, ‘Cook.’

You gasp, delighted he chose so. “Okay! Let me know if I can help you.”

He quickly fiddles with the wifi router before waving at you to come over. You laugh, “I meant I’d help with the cooking, but sure.”

Toge gets up, taking one of your hands in his. He presses something on his phone before reaching for the other.

The expression on his face is playful and sweet as he places your hands behind his neck; your fingertips brush against the ends of his hair. Music starts playing the moment he holds onto your waist. 

It’s strange, nothing has changed about the room. You’re still surrounded by countless unpacked boxes from the move, and yet the apartment has never felt so vibrant. 

Is it the music? The song he played fills the space and bounces back from every corner, breathing life into your new home.

It could also be the way he dances with you, making you feel like there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. No other’s company you’d rather have.

Or, it must be all of that and how he looks at you while he mouths, ‘I love you.’ Because you love him too.

A few days later, while out on a date, Toge asks if you’ve seen his charger.

You hum in thought. “Did you leave it at home?”

Amused, he looks at you funny before pointing to your heart. ‘Is it in there, then?’

“I don’t understand.” You admit, waiting for him to elaborate.

‘My home is where your heart is.’

© togenabi 2023 | see here to be added to my taglist ♡

taglist: @flowerjun @songsofadelaide-archive @mellozhi @luccaaedd @ihaveanexistentialcrisis @starszns @msmisasoup @appalost @akakaze @isentsworld @hellyyy06 @lownna

[ominous-horse-noises]

im ab to be annoying ab dimension20 fhjy but im genuinely loving the character arcs for the bad kids this season?

kristen going from self-annihilatingly stupid to trying to build a genuine bridge with the man who not only wielded the religion that traumatised her (bobby dawn), but also was trying to ruin her life, just bc she thought a grieving father ought to be comforted in some way? her genuine distress at being unable to revivify buddy even though the two had only had negative interactions, or her biting her tongue in front of her parents so she could better look after her little siblings? grappling with the fact that she still, on some level, expected practising religion to be easy and convenient for her as a holdover from an entire childhood spent being a Chosen One, and finally putting her nose to the grindstone and committing to working her ass off for a deity that couldn't even benefit her for a hot minute? making an effort to be cordial with tracker's new gf and letting go of that codependency? the kristen applebees from ep20 would NOT do all the same stupid shit as ep1 and i love that.

fabian being humbled by the narrative again and again has been an absolute treat for his character. the whole ivy/mazey situation was great: freshman/sophomore year fabian would've gone for ivy no sweat, i mean her character seemed pretty similar to pre-redemption aelwyn and he had a huge crush on her then. but this time, when he realised he'd hurt a genuinely great person, and intentionally swallowed his pride to make it up to mazey, even though it required him being 'uncool' with the whole twister thing. his general arc of learning that earnestness and humility doesn't make him less of a man felt like a natural extension of fabian defining his own version of masculinity- sure, a 'maximum legend', but also someone deeply involved in the arts, and someone who is less afraid of saying sorry and being vulnerable in front of someone he likes

fig. fig fig fig. what a woman. its been absolutely fascinating watching build her sense of identity over these three seasons. at her core, fig is a character that loves so deeply. in freshman, she was terrified of the depth of her own devotion, so she tried to distance herself emotionally from everyone. in sophomore, she built herself around that love for other people. in junior year, fig's arc has been learning she can do both: that she's defined by her love for others, but not solely by it. ik emily wanted to retire the character before this season but i think fig's paladin arc was the best capstone to her journey possible.

gorgug's arc has been about establishing clear boundaries for himself and i love it. im aware there's been some Discourse ab the mango soda scene but to me that was pretty easily chalked up to teenage insecurity. a big part of gorgug's arc was trying to believe in himself when everyone around him told him he was too dumb to follow his passion- imagine struggling in an area that you have no natural aptitude for, and someone comes along and also trounces you in the one area you thought you were the best in. i'd be petty and reactive too (gorgug follows up calling her a freak with the fact that she beat the shit out of him, so its clearly him just still smarting from a bruised ego and not actual malice). in general, i've really like gorgug learning to put his foot down and say enough is enough without completely losing his gentleness.

adaine hasnt had an obvious arc, but considering she addressed most of her baggage in the first two seasons, i'm not surprised. i would've liked to see the other bad kids address her 'teenage adult' behaviour, but her self-awareness about it and relying on fabian to pull in clutch for the oracool stuff still felt like she'd learned to rely on her friends at least + her reaching out to aelwyn and the two of them healing from their parents together has been rewarding it its own right.

riz is perfect and has learned nothing. his neuroticism is part of his natural swag

[ronearoundblindly]

I am sorry but I'm going to need a Ransom story with this prompt. It can be RoaR or a one-off, he can love it or hate it in this space, he can see it over Reader's shoulder on the computer screen, your choice!

o.0 oh boi oh boi oh boi! Fall Vibes but it's gonna be my summer challenge submission to @the-slumberparty's Sundae Bar, featuring the flavors Cookies and Cream (soulmates) and Rocky Road (rags to riches) with the topping Oreos (marriage of convenience (reluctantly)). Also my second entry for @stargazingfangirl18's Birthday Bonenanza, featuring a babe in love and cranky about it + "can you just...hold me please?"

For Show Ransom Drysdale x poor!soulmate!reader

Summary: Ransom hates that you--his soulmate and wife--are nothing like him.

Warnings for smut and Ran's a**hole brain (rude, nasty thoughts that he barely even believes). Classic Lexi--this is cheeky, y'all, but you know it's because I can't help myself... MINORS DNI. Find all-age friendly fic on my Light Masterlist. WC 2.1k

Ran didn’t believe in love to start, but this is fucking ridiculous. Opposites attract? Get wrecked, asshole. He’s keeping opposites on the other side of the house. It’s not far enough.

It’s standard practice for the confirmation of matching soulmarks to act as a de facto marriage contract—common law, if you like,—and Ransom Drysdale fought tooth and nail to make you prove you had his name on you. He needed to see it with his own eyes or fuck that shit.

His is obvious; he can show it off. In fact, Ran is surprised by how long it took you to come forward, considering his family and status, considering his lifestyle of being very visible.

But no, he had to wait for a fucking database to pop out record of his match from your healthcare provider, and he had wait for that because the government knew about your health…because they know such things…about people who need their fucking money. The registration of soulmarks puts the financial responsibility on the soulmate if they end up having the means.

Now Ran is responsible for you, a woman he made lower the front of her panties in open court to reveal his goddamn name in his own goddamn handwriting imprinted right above her goddamn cunt, and suddenly it became his cunt, his problem, his responsibility.

You’re not even fun. You had no money and didn’t care to have any, so you moved your few, ratty belongings into his home, replacing nothing, offering nothing in return for his—well, in return for every fucking thing he has now being yours, too. It’s so fucked.

You don’t want to show off, and he has no intention of showing you off. He can’t be seen with you, not without the proper clothes or jewelry, and you refused to get them. Instead, Ransom leaves you alone in the house, doing whatever he wants, whenever he wants, as always. He won’t talk to you because he just gets furious every time. He’s not going to have deep conversations about the state of the world, though he might have one social justice issue he can fight for: the mother-fucking law that made you his wife without question.

Ran slams the kitchen cabinet storing all-white, matching stoneware mugs when he notices what’s missing: your single, sad, flea market mug. It’s clay so it always looks dirty, and he hates it.

He lightly punches his own neck in irritation.

He didn’t stand a chance fighting the marriage, not with your name in deep, port red letters creeping up his throat, higher than any turtleneck he’s ever owned. Coupled with his legal name resting snuggly beneath your pubes, it was obviously, technically accurate that you’re soulmates. When was the last time someone challenged that system, he thinks. That might be a better use of his money than—

Where are you anyway?

For all his annoyance, he hasn’t set eyes on you for days.

His house is large enough (and he spends so much time anywhere else) that you have your own room, which you didn’t question, and the kitchen is easy enough to share when one of you eats out with other people (as he does two to three times a day). You get the slightly bigger and more formal living room while Ran gets the den with the big TV. Really it’s been the perfect system for almost forgetting you exist.

He pours tea into his clean, white mug and leaves said big TV fairly loud on some program he wasn’t paying attention to, leaning over the granite countertop to see if he can spot you from this angle.

No luck.

He steps closer, sipping.

A little closer, more sipping, a purposeful smack of his lips to grab your attention if you are just around the corner.

There are two openings, both far larger than doorways, to the living room, each through the central hall. When he doesn’t immediately see you, he steps to the farther opening. What the—

What’d you do to his couch?

Is that every single pillow and blanket from your side of the house?

Did Yankee Candle Company throw up in here?

What, the fucking fireplace wasn’t enough ambiance for you? You had to make some sort of nest with his stuff? And there’s that ugly-ass mug, no coaster, on his super-expensive, reclaimed hardwood coffee table.

A pillow shifts.

No, not a pillow; it’s your back, and when you shift again, Ran sees one of the plush throw blankets slink farther down your bare skin. It’s the largest swath of your body he’s ever seen.

You lay with your arms folded, peering out the windows behind the couch, and you still haven’t fucking noticed him.

He huffs before realizing he isn’t listening to the faint TV anymore, but when he ticks his head, he sees your TV isn’t on either.

“”I think of nothing but you as I fall asleep at night”—” Ran hears a woman’s voice fake a deeper tone before switching to normal “—Javier says, pulling her soft curves into his hard body—”

You sigh dreamily and wiggle on the cushions. The blanket slides over the swell of your ass.

Ran stops moving mid-sip of tea.

“”Please, my darling, let me have you—“ this is fucking terrible, he thinks “—as only a lover can.””

Alright, now Ransom is just sad. You’re naked in his living room, rubbing your thighs together and listening to an erotic novel on your phone.

“Chloe felt his digits dance across her clavicle, his eyes enchanted by her heaving bosom…”

Go out to a club or restaurant with him? No. Wear nice clothes he could buy you? Nope.

“”Javi,” she gasps, distracted by his rough palm groping her breast hungrily, “I can’t believe you want me.””

Ran is going to fucking gag at the whining appall in the narrator’s voice.

Why listen to this awful shit instead of show off him as your husband? From the quick shiver racing down your spine and the curl of your toes where they hang over the cushion’s edge, it’s because you’re fucking horny for it.

Good god, how low are your standards?

He stalks forward, feet hitting the floor hard until he reaches the plush rug.

Startled, you peer over your shoulder at him, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights, and you begin scrambling to recover yourself.

Ran puts his cup down by yours. “Don’t move,” he orders, and to his surprise, you obey, keeping you head turned his direction and sinking back into the pillows.

“”How could you doubt? From the moment I met you, I adored you.””

He swivels to face the same direction as you, reaches out his hand and mime the stroke he’s contemplating tracing over your curves.

“”I’m yours,” Chloe breathes, Javier’s growing member signaling his desire against her silk-covered core.”

Ran finally bends until the tip of his middle finger grazes the inside of your thigh.

As he drags it over one cheek and down the other, you whine and push your ass toward his hand.

That’s…not bad, all things considered. You are his wife, after all, and you clearly want to be fucked. He won’t argue that having some other woman’s name scrawled on him hasn’t limited his game for quite a while. Financially independent or not, when a pussy is presented to him, Ransom will say ‘yes.’

He stops noticing the audio from your phone and just dives in, no sentiments or kind words of his own. He simply unbuckles his belt, pops the button of this jeans, and rips that zipper down before teasing your folds to find enough slick at your entrance to swirl around. He spreads you and your wetness with purpose. Each second that passes drives Ransom a little bit more insane.

Impatient, strung out like a virgin on prom night, he rushes to shove his pants out of the way and kicks one knee up between your legs, his other foot still on the floor. He pumps his fingers inside you until he’s knuckle-deep and nearly dripping, manhandling your hips to the right height to sink his tip into you.

Ran groans at how fucking good you feel. He’s probably just desperate. He’d be excited about any ol’ means to come right now.

He snaps his hips in small thrusts until his whole length glides in and out in seamless stimulation. You’ve buried your face in the pillow, so he can’t hear if you make any noise. He can, however, see your hands scratch at the upholstery and clench into fists. He can see you deepen the arch of your back, angling his dick to fuck just slightly down through your channel. The pressure squeezes the spongy head of his cock like a vice. He’ll never say it out loud, but your pussy is fucking perfect. God fucking dammit.

Ransom relentlessly drives into you, catching the sideview of your breasts bouncing each time his thighs slap yours. He smacks your ass once just to see if it jiggles for him, and that’s when your hand snakes to disappear between your legs. He expects you’re going for your clit which is good because he’s about to get off and get lost, but instead, he feels your soft fingers cup his balls.

He’s so enamored by the sensation that he switches to tiny pulses deep in your cunt while your hand wraps and rolls his sac gently. Twitching and tensing, Ran unabashedly moans until your walls constrict around his length.

He’s got to make you do that again.

Ransom collapses forward to lean over you, his own hand diving to find your clit, resting his palm right over your mound and soulmark. Every inch of his body burns hot with need. He humps wildly, resting his chin over your shoulder.

“”I don’t care how, Javi, just stick it in there. I need you. I need you so badly…””

“Jesus Christ,” Ran growls, “are they still not fucking?”

A giggle bursts from your lips, a sweet, happy sound he’s never heard from you before, and you reach for him. Your palm lands on his soulmark, your fingers curling to scratch the hairs at the nape of his neck, and there’s…there’s…

He can’t comprehend how your body fits his so well. He can’t reconcile this sudden swell of obsession in his gut for you. He’s enveloped in a binary system of souls, gravity tugging at that connection between you.

Ran doesn’t believe in love or destiny. He refuses. He believes in pleasure and perception, in accumulation and ownership.

The only thought left in his static-filled head is mine, mine, mine, mine.

He falls over the edge first, a satisfied shout punctuating each spurt he plants within you, furiously working your messy clit and kneading one breast in his free hand until he feels that squeeze again, and again, and again, dying to a flutter just as your shared cum leaks out around his cock.

By this time, Ran is panting and resting a sizable portion of his weight on you, knees knocked loose in his onslaught, pushing you both flat to the chaise cushion, feet dangling off the end.

You still hold each other’s mark in a comforting palm.

He’s speechless as the room fills with heated love declarations amidst passionate sex and bad dialogue. Ran tries to catch his fucking breath. He’s glad you don’t speak either.

Everything about his life—his past, his present, his future—sits utterly raw in front of him, and he can’t cope.

He makes the mistake of peeling his body off yours, releasing you and dislodging your hand. The cold emptiness which immediately sweeps over him is sickening, and Ran barely waits for you to roll onto your back before he wedges himself between your legs again, instinctually laying on his side, pressing his sweater-clad shoulder against your sopping folds just so he can rest his soulmark right on top of yours.

Euphoria returns to his body and mind, thick like honey and all-consuming.

He doesn’t want to admit it. He doesn’t want to talk about. He doesn’t want to live a moment without you.

Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.

Mercifully, the audio speaks for him.

“”Can you just…hold me please? That was…that was…””

“”So intense,” Javier rumbles, “so beautiful.””

Ransom, the preening trust fund baby, has finally found something all his own, something he doesn’t want to share, something shown only for him.

He refuses, however, to call it ‘love’…

…yet.

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

A/N: I'm fine.

[pricegouge]

As requested, follow up to this. 141 x gn!reader, but price is the only one fucking reader explicitly. no gendered language for reader and no genital description, but there are multiple orgasms so make of that what you will. reader wound up being pretty civilian-coded in this one though, sorry

CW for under (re: straight up not) negotiated public/viewed sex. John just basically decides he's gonna fuck you in front of his boys and that's that on that. dub con touching. this turned into a bit of a punish johnny fic for literally no reason, sorry. (it's me. i'm the reason. i vibed too hard with reader in these two fics and i don't like those freaky blue eyes sorrrrrrrryyyyy.) but! he can have some pet play as a treat. uhhh… barest hint of belly bulge 💛

John has never dressed you before, but he catches you with one too many buttons undone the day after burning his dog tags into your sternum and you know you've struck a chord by how he zeros in on the gauze he can see poking out above your hemline. Within the hour he's announcing plans to have his boys over for dinner the next night and assembling an outfit for you before bed.

"Just want you to look nice, pet," he says, eyes far too eager. "Want to show you off a bit, you know?"

Pressed trousers and silk button down, John insists you wear the gold chain he'd bought you for your third anniversary, which conveniently means you have to wear your top unbuttoned just a bit too much to be appropriate, in order to make it all settle nicely against your skin. John asks how the silk feels against the tender spots around the burn and when you say it's fine, he carefully removes the gauze that covers you. You let him because it was more precaution than anything - John's insisting - the burn there more superficial than generic baking mishaps, or hair straightener run-ins.

It didn't stop him from staring at it hungrily, eyes glued to you as you flit about the house, getting ready for guests. You know that look well, though it takes you a moment to place what specifically it's intended for.

"What happened to Mr. The-Boys'll-Know-What-It-Is?" you quip, palm hiding the mark from him as if being demure.

John just shrugs, uncowed. "I tried something for you…" he reminds you, walking away before you can even reply and you gulp because, while that's true, you don't entirely know what it is he's asking you to try.

***

You're not entirely sure how it got to this point. The 'showing off' turned to 'let them see,' turned to curious fingers tracing John's marks, to Soap asking if he could mark you because John hadn't fully considered who he was talking to when he brought up heat play. 

Turned to that stormy look in John's eyes he sometimes got when you were acting bratty and he thought you needed a reminder just who you belonged to.

You've never seen it turned on anyone else, except maybe the occasional brave waiter. You've never given any thought to how that would play out until John's got you sprawled out across the dinner table you haven't even had time to clean off, fingers working you open while he works you with lips and tongue, squeaks and shrieks of protest going unanswered. When you try to lever yourself up for the fourth time, John pries off of you with a wet smack, voice gruff when he tells Simon to hold you down.

Despite the wide-eyed look you turn on him, Simon takes this order just as easily as any other. Coming around the head of the table, you hear the wood creak as he hauls his considerable weight onto it. He walks his knees up until they're flush with your back, presses you flat against his thighs with a sturdy palm splayed right across John's dog tag.

"Easy, pet," he rumbles, and you do your best to ignore the growing thickness pressing against your shoulder.

You would respond with something quite biting, if not for John's own teeth pressing against the crease of your thigh threateningly.

It's Soap who breaks the standoff, shoving at Ghost's hand with a needy, 'Fock, Si, lemme see.'

For all your complaining, you miss John's mouth the second it's gone. He sits up far enough to stare at the younger lieutenant menacingly, voice a low growl when he tells him to keep his hands off you.

Soap huffs, but sits back in his seat, unfortunately close to your face. Gaz doesn't give John enough time to return to his task, asking for permission to play with your nipples with the kind of shit eating excitedness you know is equal parts eagerness to play, and a desire to piss Soap off.

John doesn't even glance at you to gauge your opinion on the matter. "You may," he rumbles before taking your sex back into his mouth almost aggressively.

"Ah, ye fockin' -," Soap curses, but whoever and whatever the fuck they are, you never learn, too distracted Gaz's plush lips brushing over the silk of your shirt, tongue hot and wet through the thin fabric.

It catches you off guard and you can't help but cling to him, palm flat against the nape of his neck. 

"No touching," John growls against your skin, mouth slick from where he's been working his tongue alongside his fingers.

You and Kyle both look, but John's eyes are firmly on you. You nod in understanding, folding your arms up over your forehead on instinct. You'd almost forgotten about Simon, but when he draws both your wrist into one hand and holds them against his chest, you're reminded of just how fucking spread thin you are. 

"Cap," Soap whines, but it's Simon who answers - John's mouth too preoccupied. 

"Wait your turn, pup."

"Not gonna get one if you keep being so fucking entitled." John separates from you to speak, but only technically, voice humid and thick against your skin. When he sinks back into you, a third finger joins the first two.

"John," you whine, and Gaz must take that as a challenge because his breath fans cold across the soaked material of your shirt. It clings to your skin, reveals the outline of the jewelry there. He catches one of the ball ends between his teeth, tugging gently. 

You think you hiss, but it gets swallowed up by Simon's appreciative hum. "Never pegged you for the type, pet," he purrs. "Wanna see mine?"

It's instinctive, the way your hands flatten against his chest, searching.

Ghost laughs, leans over you as best he can. "Lower."

"D'ye hear tha', cap?" Johnny cries. "Ghost's tryna get your hen tae touch his cock."

You can feel John's broad shoulders shrug between your legs. "Sooner let him than let you brand my hen."

The way you gulp back your panic would be audible, if not for the slick sound of Price's fingers in your cunt, or the popping of your buttons when Gaz decides he's had enough of your shirt. You watch John for a reaction, but he gives none. Watches Kyle almost apathetically when the lieutenant gets his lips on your nipple. His voice is like a rockslide when he instructs the other man to use more teeth.

You keen when you feel Kyle's pretty white teeth on you, head knocking back into Simon's plush lower belly. You feel the latter's hand slide across your chest to your neglected tit, but your focus shifts to the abandoned burn, distracted by the way the heated skin tightens when exposed to the cool room air. The only one who seems to notice is Johnny, upsettingly blue eyes darting back and forth from your own down to the inflamed mark on your chest. 

He waits until John is thoroughly distracted, fingers grinding deep against that spot that makes you arch and clench and gasp. "Does it hurt, bonnie?" he whispers, his movements obvious under the table. "Or does it feel better now, wi'out Ghost's ham fist on it?"

You would answer, except the abuse your piercings are weathering combined with the brutal manner John's fingers move within you have your breath coming hard; thoughts even harder.

"An' how 'bout this oone?" Soap continues, free hand daring to slide along the table, down your side. His finger hovers menacingly above the lighter burn there, still covered with a bit of gauze. John's watching, gaze burning you more than anything he's done thus far. You feel ungrounded, unmoored, like you're floating above yourself despite the three and a half sets of hands that hold you down. 

"Such a wee, sweet little thing."

Your tension cuts violently before it can properly build when he presses his thumb to the mark on your thigh and you realize he isn't even talking about you. 

Simon holds you with your hands trapped to your chest, the heat of your burned palm pressed flat against your tender sternum. You've never felt your hand throb before, skin flushed with more than just arousal. It's novel, adds a thread of discovery to your shudderingly good peak alongside the feeling of so many weathered hands on you.

John doesn't give you a moment to recover, pulling you by the hips until you slide bonelessly into his lap. He lines his cock up with your slackened hole without much preamble, the huff of his breaths betraying just how much he needs you. 

Tipped forward until you're flush against his chest, John's voice is a husky whisper meant for you alone when he tells you how good you are, what a perfect pet you've been.

It's hard to listen, brain still tripping over the orgasm he'd just pulled from you. "C- can't."

"You will," he assures, and your breath leaks out of you in a high keen when he angles your hips just right against his own, cock so deep inside you you're surprised you can't see it in your stomach. 

As if he wants to test that limit, John tilts you back against the table with one palm flat against your tummy. You know he's feeling for himself there, eyes like molten lava spilling down your front until he finds what he's after and he leers up at you, pressing down against your walls until his cock grinds hard into you. Your hands scramble against the table behind yourself, palm searing when your grip threatens to break the blister there. You're so concerned with bracing yourself you almost don't notice the way the table doesn't jolt away from John's ministrations, too weighed down by Simon's heavy form shuffling across it to lean over you, eyes nearly a physical weight where they bore down on the place John has you split open, fucking into you furiously.

"C'mere pup," Simon rumbles, and Johnny scrambles to his side, eager as he tucks himself under Ghost's arm. "See that? See how well this little pet takes cap's cock?" Soap doesn't say anything, but you gather he nods by the way Simon continues undeterred, "That's why cap gets to brand this pretty skin and you don't."

He's not even talking to you, but the notion has you cursing, lolling your head back until it falls against Simon's pec. He doesn't let you off the hook, holding your head up and directing you to look at John. "There's a good pet. Eyes on cap when he makes you cum."

It's Kyle's hand that pushes you over, though, quick and clever when he works you with spit-slick skin across your abused flesh. You don't dare look at him when you cum, but you tilt your head against his chest, breathing in the strong scent of him - spice and sweet, so much different than John, but just as comforting.

John lets you ride it out (forces you to, rather, grip firm where he rocks you against himself until your moans are stuttery and your hole flutters more so than properly clenches.) When he pulls out, he guides you to your knees and you hold your mouth open instinctively, but John tilts your head back with a broad palm to the base of your skull, lets you watch from your odd angle as he fucks his fist. It takes you a moment to realize his eyes are on Johnny, the younger man nearly shivering under his captain's glare.

"Whose pet is this?" John asks, nearly indecipherable in his lust.

Automatic, "Yours, cap, please -. Fuck, wanna -."

"Ask pretty and I'll let you lick it up."

"Shite," you hear Soap hiss, voice just as quivery as you feel. "Please, cap? Please let me clean yer cum off yer pet?"

John only grunts, breaths hot and heavy as a bellows as he turns back to you. It doesn't take long. You wrap your hand around his more out of habit than necessity, and John groans long and deep as he cums across your chest, painting the hot skin there in blazing stripes that make you gasp and flinch minutely away.

It takes him a moment longer of staring down at you to settle, stroking your cheek with his rough knuckles until he decides you've both had enough, motioning Soap closer with a lazy curl of his fingers.

There's not enough room between John's thighs for the both of you, but Soap has no problem crowding you from around John's calf. His tongue is hot and rough and slobbery and you cry out in disgust when his first instinct is to slurp rather than lick. John just laughs at you both, leaning back in his chair as he holds Johnny's head to your chest with a firm grip on the man's mohawk. 

"Keep behaving yourself, pup, and I'll let you clean up the other boys' messes, too."

[sunnylua]

loml | G. Satoru

angst, arranged marriage;

-

You had to excuse yourself from the table. The sight of a woman, who’s now the fiancee of the man who swore he’d give you the stars and the moon, intertwining her fingers with his. It made you want to throw up. Your heart clenched in the worst way as you stepped out of the café.

Such an idiot. He really thought it was a good idea for me to meet her.

You left for a few years and you came back to this. The love of your life marrying someone else.

He had to excuse himself too, following you outside. He gently tapped your shoulder once he reached you.

“Hey, is everything okay?” He asked, his signature smile on his lips, which immediately faded when he sensed something was off.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just needed some air.” You replied.

“You’re a terrible liar.” He leaned back on a wall next to you.

A dry chuckle escaped your lips. “I hate that you know me well.”

His expression continued worried. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?” He was still your best friend after all.

You sighed. “I don’t know, I just don’t feel very comfortable.” Uncomfortable was an understatement. You felt like your heat was being ripped out of your chest.

He nodded. “You don’t feel comfortable seeing us together.” You didn’t want to admit it to him, but he already knew.

“Can you blame me? How was I supposed to expect you were going to marry someone… and so suddenly.” You looked away from his eyes, you felt ashamed.

Satoru let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to surprise you like this. It's just..." He took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts and articulate what he wanted to say. He knew that there was no easy way to explain the situation.

“It's just... my clan. They basically forced me to marry her. They wanted someone from another powerful family to continue their bloodline. It's a stupid tradition, I know..."

He paused for a moment, his eyes searching your face for any sign of understanding. He wasn’t trying to make excuses, he just wanted you to understand the difficult position he was in.

You sighed. “I can’t even be mad at you…” As much as you wanted to blame him for it, you couldn’t. You knew it wasn’t his fault, or hers.

Satoru’s shoulders relaxed, relieved that you weren't angry at him. He took a step closer to you, his hand gently reaching out to touch your shoulder. He looked into your eyes, his expression filled with guilt. "I never wanted this, you know? I never wanted to marry someone I don’t even love...”

You took a deep breath, looking away from him. “You look good together, might be convenient.”

Satoru's jaw tightened as he clenched his fists at his sides. He knew deep down that what you said had some truth to it, but hearing it out loud made him feel a pang of frustration and anger. "Is that all you see it as? A convenient arrangement? Do you think I actually wanted this, that I'm happy to marry a woman I don't even love?"

“I know you don’t, but that’s what it is now.” You were saying things you didn’t mean, your logic fighting with your emotions.

Satoru's expression softened once again. He knew you were right, but hearing it from you stung nonetheless. He let out a defeated sigh and leaned against the wall. "Yeah... you're right. That's what it is now. A convenient arrangement that I'm forced into."

You looked at him, seeing his sad eyes made your heart ache. “I’m sorry this is happening…” You sighed.

Satoru shook his head, his eyes falling to the ground. He appreciated your sympathy, but it didn’t make the situation any easier to bear. “Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault. I’m the one who should be apologizing to you. I should have told you about this sooner..."

After a short silence you spoke. “Don’t invite me to the wedding.”

Your words hit Satoru like a punch to the gut. He flinched slightly, his mind spinning. He hadn't even considered the wedding. And now, hearing you refuse to attend... It hurt. A lot. "You... what?”

You press your lips, your eyes were getting teary “God, don’t even tell me the date or the place.”

As your eyes filled with tears, Satoru's expression turned pained. He hated seeing you like this, but he knew he was the one who caused it. He swallowed the lump in his throat and spoke quietly. "I... I won't tell you the date. But... Damn it, yn. Will I even see you again before that?"

“Would it make sense to?” Your tears finally ran down your cheeks.

Satoru's voice caught in his throat. He knew the answer to your question, but it didn’t make it any easier to accept. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. "No... it probably wouldn’t make sense. But damn it, I don’t care. I want to see you."

You slightly shook your head. “It’s not fair… for me or for her.” Your voice cracked. You wanted to tell him that you loved him and you’d wait for him. To run away with you.

Satoru frowned at your words, his brows furrowing. "Since when were you so concerned about what's fair? Since when has life ever been fair to us?"

“You’re right. Nothing is fair.” Your voice became firm as you looked at him again.

Satoru took another step closer to you again. "Exactly. Life's not fair, and we've both been through our fair share of unfairness. But that doesn't mean… that doesn't mean we have to give up on the things we care about."

“So what will you do, huh? What, Satoru?” You were getting irritated, this whole situation wouldn’t have been happening if you didn’t leave for that stupid mission. “Are you going to ignore the fact that you’re getting married and meet me behind them all?”

Satoru let out a frustrated exhale, running a hand through his hair. He knew that what he was about to say next was wrong, but he couldn’t help himself. "Yes. That’s exactly what I want to do. I want to ignore that I’m getting married and continue seeing you. I don’t want to lose you."

You looked at him in the eyes that were now tearing up despite looking angry. “You know you can’t…”

Satoru’s heart sank as he watched the tears well up in your eyes. He knew you were right, but he couldn’t bring himself to accept it. "Damn it yn, I know! I know it’s stupid and selfish, but I can’t help it. I can’t bear the thought of losing you."

“I don’t want this either… but you’re losing me.”Those words escaped your lips hurting both the both of you. Those words resounded loudly as if they were the only words that could be heard.

Satoru’s heart squeezed in his chest as you said those words. He took a step back, his arms hanging limply at his sides. "You’re right, I did. But I don’t want to accept it. I don’t want to accept that I can’t see you anymore. That I can’t touch you.”

“It’s time to start facing it, Satoru.” You said quietly looking away.

“Easier said than done… how do you expect me to feel when I’m losing the woman I love the most in my life.” He said irritated.

“And how do you think I feel? Coming back after two years to see you hand in hand with the perfect woman?!” You almost cried saying this, feeling like you had a knife twisting in your chest.

Satoru took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He hated seeing you so upset, and it was killing him knowing that there was nothing he could do to change the situation. "I wish things could be different. I wish I could choose who I wanted to be with. But the clan…" He trailed off, his voice filled with bitterness.

“It’s always the clan…” You said under your breath. “There’s no more today say. You… you should go back inside. We’ve been here for so long.” You wiped your tears with the back of your hand.

Satoru looked conflicted. He didn’t want to go back, he wanted to spend more time with you, but he knew he didn’t have a choice. He reluctantly nodded, his expression resigned. "Yeah, you’re right. I should go back."

He looked at you, his eyes red and tear stained cheeks. “I’m sorry, yn. I really am…”

“I am too…”

The both of you parted ways. Walking back to your new lives without each other. It turned from calling the love of your life to loss of your life.

-

Lua’s note: damn

[ratatouillewastakendammit]

OMG I LOVED THE Tomorrow, I promise SO MUCH 😭🔥🙏🏻 have you considered of making part two? id be begging on my knees

I'm so glad you liked it!! Thanks for the request! (Also for the person who requested the Hawks version of this trope, it should be done soon! 💙)

Tomorrow, I promise

Pairing: Dabi x Reader

Warnings: language; slight smut/suggestive; as always I have no beta reader and this was made in maybe under two hours because I wanted to get it to yall quickly <3

Find part one here!

"You ready to beg yet?"

In all honesty, your answer would've been yes.

The desire to give in was heinous, to throw away your pride for the tickle of heat budding below your abdomen and that wicked smile coming from the man above you.

Then you heard the knock on the door.

Practically falling off of the bed, your right knee hit the floor, pulling a curse from your mouth as the wood scraped against your skin. You scrambled to your feet, allowing yourself a deep breath for composition before turning the knob.

Magne and Compress met your line of sight, both looking upward as your door creaked open, the hinges rusted with age and lack of care.

"Good morning!" The redhead grinned, lowering her sunglasses to get a better view. "We figured it had been long enough for the quirk to wear off, so we wanted to check on how you were doing..."

Her voice trailed off, face scrunching in surprise. At first, you weren't actually sure why.

Until you felt the wave of heat gnawing at your back.

Eyes narrowed, Dabi had a hand placed on the left side of the door frame, leaning slightly and wearing an expression of pure annoyance.

Magne bit her lip. "Did you two-"

"No!" You sidestepped a few inches, heat blooming in your cheeks. "We definitely did not."

Dabi scoffed, muttering a quiet, "Yeah, thanks, assholes."

"Plus Shigaraki wants to see you two, talk about tomorrow's mission or something." Compress, seemingly able to ignore the less-than-kind comment, nodded to the stairway. "Unless, of course, we're interrupting anything."

Grabbing his free arm, you yanked Dabi in front of you, effectively pushing the group out of the room. "Nope, sounds good. See you soon, bye."

The hurried burst of words was followed by the slam of your door and a sigh. The sound of relief echoed through the space, now devoid of that warmth you kicked yourself for missing. Body resting on the wood, almost like a barricade to the world outside, you pushed yourself forward and towards the dresser.

Picking out a pair of jeans and a hoodie was easy.

Facing the rest of the League was not.

You tried to listen to your leader's explanation of what would be going down tomorrow, fidgeting under the cerulean gaze stemming from across the room.

For what seemed like hours, Shigaraki droned on and on about how pissed off he would be if you messed up again. It felt like a millennium before he waved you all off with a lazed flip of his hand.

Jumping up from your chair far too quickly, you sped-walked to the stairs, going at least two at a time in the direction of your room.

Unfortunately, you weren't fast enough.

Deft hands slid around your waist from behind, picking you off from the mismatched wood and tossing you over Dabi's shoulder.

"Put me down, asshole!" You yelled, ignoring the way his hand rested ever-so conveniently over your behind.

"Sorry, doll," he replied, ushering a soft squeeze to the area above your thigh. The sound he earned drew a wicked grin across his features as he opened the door to his own room. "But not happening."

Locking clicking into place, he marched forward and tossed you onto his bed.

That seemed to be happening far too often lately.

"Wanna know what else isn't gonna happen?" He was on you before you could sit up, hands placed on either side of your body and arms caging you in. "You aren't gonna sit there and pretend like you don't have a thing for me."

"Why the hell does it matter?" You scoffed. "You don't feel the same, so just let it go. Try your best not to be a prick for once."

The words pulled at your chest, but the silence was worse. Abundant and humid, it hung over the air like a toxic gas as Dabi stared at you.

"Are you fucking serious?"

"I-"

"Do you know how fucking hard it was to watch you sit there and bat those pretty, little eyes and go on and on about how much you liked me? How hard it was to say no when you, of all people, are practically begging for me to take you?"

"So, you just wanted to sleep with me."

Rolling his eyes, he smirked. "If I wanted a simple fuck from you, I would've done it yesterday when you were frothing at the mouth."

"I was not." You mumbled, face heating.

"Oh, come on, princess. You gotta admit how needy you are for me at some point." Dabi cradled your chin with his hand, pulling your face upward as he inched closer, the warmth of his breath tickling your ear and sending a chill down your spine. "Or else I can't show you how much I like you."

Tongue running across your neck, his free hand moved under your shirt, hesitating just enough to give you a chance to pull away. When you didn't, his fingers traveled beneath your bra, cupping your chest gently.

He pinched your nipple, earning a small moan. "So, let's hear it."

"Fuck," you cursed, back arching into the warmth of his touch. "Yeah, fine. I like you too, or whatever."

A smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. "You can do better than that."

"You're an asshole."

"And you're an idiot." He pushed his lips against yours, tongue skimming the bottom, begging for entrance, a request that you happily indulged.

The heat of his touch coursed over your body, warm and inviting and absolutely nothing like the mask he wore. It felt safe, a pure contradiction to what the world saw. The idea that he was only like this with you made your chest feel light.

When he pulled back, taking that heat with him, it was like the air had been sucked from your lungs. Still, the way that he looked at you had a pleasant fervor running through your limbs.

"How the hell could I not like you?"

[cloverthebarbearian]

Alone Together

Rolan x GN!Tav 6.1k+ words (Explicit, AFAB descriptions used for Tav) (P.1: The Party)

Finally finished Chapter 2 of the first fic I ever started, hope y'all enjoy! It's, uh. :) Yeah :)

"I'm sorry," he said, pulling back on impulse. His voice was trembling, his mouth aching to return to Tav's embrace, "Is this okay? I… I should have asked first, or -" They kissed him again, savoring him as if he were the wine they meant to share tonight. "Yes, Rolan," Tav smiled against him, kissing him softly between their words, "This is more than okay." "We're both drunk," Rolan continued between Tav's peppering onslaught of kisses, "I don't want us to… I don't want you to… come to regret anything…" Tav leaned into him, catching his lips in a kiss more tender and intimate than any of the starved, frantic ones they had already shared. When Tav finally pulled back, they held Rolan's gaze. The spark of infernal fire in his eyes twinkling back at him in the reflection of their own. "Don't talk like that, Rolan. I came here because I wanted to… I want to be with you. There'd be nothing to regret," they wrapped their arms around his neck, holding the back of his head in their hands, kissing him again. And he held onto the moment for dear life. Tav released to take a breath, their lips tracing his own. "Whatever you want tonight. Whatever you need, I'm yours."

The night air grew cool and quiet as the two walked further away from the party grounds. The silence, the wine swimming in Rolan's head, the feeling of Tav's arm still tightly linked into his own. And Gods, the smell of them - sweat and earth, smoke and… sage? Patchouli, maybe. He couldn't quite place it. Lost in thought, Rolan nearly jumped when Tav spoke.

"Where are you camped at?" they questioned. Their party was camped by the river, near the ruins they had met Wither's in a few nights prior. They knew the refugees were leaving the grove come morning, but they never stopped to consider if that's where they'd be spending the night again, "When Zevlor said you'd all be visiting our camp tonight, I wondered if that meant we'd all be sleeping together."

Rolan's face felt warm at the thought of Tav's phrasing. They didn't correct themselves. Perhaps they didn't notice the possible intimacy behind the words. Perhaps Rolan was overthinking again. He stammered a moment before replying.

"I, um - ah, yes. Well. I suppose some of the other refugees are set up closer to your camp. Those who I think were intent to drink themselves silly tonight. But many of us set up our bedrolls by the gates," he fell quiet a moment, before a slight bitterness overtook his words, "The druids seemed keen on us marching out at first light. I suppose Zevlor thought it wise to make it easy for us to leave at their earliest convenience."

Tav looked up, but his gaze held straight ahead. They weren't sure what to say, if anything, that could help. More often than not, Rolan always had some rebuttal prepared in wait of Tav's attempted encouragements.

So, they didn't say anything. They just squeezed his arm a little tighter as they walked together. And though Tav had stopped looking up to read his expression, they felt his body relax around their arm. Rolan took in a heavy breath, an attempt to clear his mind of the hostility he carried.

"Not that I mind, I suppose," he spoke up again, "High time we left this blasted place. Oh, but, um," he cleared his throat before continuing, "I'm camped atop the hill, east of the gate. I was surprised no one else seemed bothered by the thought of sleeping packed together at the gate like animals. And I, um," he hesitated around his words, "I… appreciate the privacy, when its afforded."

Tav smiled, "I'm sure when traveling with family, it doesn't happen often."

"Ha! No, it does not," Rolan replied with a laugh, "I do look forward to a night free of Cal's snoring for a change."

They soon arrived at Rolan's aforementioned campsite. It was much more humble than Tav was expecting. Though, I guess he isn't traveling with much, they soon thought. Inside the tent, they could catch glimpses of his bed roll, quite a number of pillows, and an even larger number of tomes neatly organized in a box tilted on its side. A make-shift book shelf, with some parchment and ink left on top of the 'shelving', in lieu of a proper desk.

"Ah, just one moment," Rolan gave a quick bow before turning to dig through the rucksacks left in a tidy pile beside his tent. Tav stepped away, taking in the view from atop the hill. They could see their party's camp grounds down by the riverbank. Still going strong, it seemed. Drunk as Alfira was, her voice and musical accompaniment still carried faintly up to the grove.

Tav closed their eyes and took a deep breath in, outstretching their arms and allowing the crisp evening air to embrace them. They knew the peace wouldn't last. But they had now. They were allowed to enjoy this moment.

"Am I… interrupting something?" Rolan's voice carried from over Tav's shoulder. They turned their head around and glanced up at the tiefling man behind them. "I did think we had plans this evening," he joked, holding up an unopened bottle of wine and two surprisingly elegant glasses, "But if you'd rather… um. What exactly are you doing?"

Tav laughed, walking back to the tent and sitting on the thin rugs laid out in front of the entrance.

"Honestly? I don't know. Just… enjoying the calm, I suppose, " they said with a sigh. Rolan sat down next to them, uncorking the fresh bottle and pouring them both a glass. He handed one to Tav as he started taking a sip from his own, an eyebrow raising.

"The calm? Sounds to me like they've got a good hours of dance left in them," Rolan joked, nodding at the party down the cliff side. Tav chuckled, their fingers rimming the lip of the wine glass.

"I just mean I haven't had a moment like… This -" they shrugged, vaguely, gesturing to the air around them, "- In a while," They looked down into their cup. The wine a deep, clean red, "Usually, the nights before rest just leave me thinking of the battles to come tomorrow. It's nice to know I can just… I don't know. Appreciate this," they said with a forlorn lilt, "Whatever this is."

Their voice held that appreciation. But with it was a heaviness. A burden weighing the air so thick Rolan felt as if, for a moment, it were his own. Tav let go of another breath and took a sip of their wine.

"Oh, wow," their eyes grew wide, "Y'know, I'll be honest Rolan. I kind of just thought you were full of it with the whole 'vintage bottle back at my camp' thing. But, this is way better than what they're serving back there!"

Rolan eyes went wide and his jaw went slack in disbelief, "What do you mean you thought I was 'full of it'?! That I'd - That I'd lie just to get you up here? That I'd have some sort of… Some ulterior motive to -" Tav reached their hand out and placed it on his leg.

"Rolan. I'm only teasing. I'm sorry," they squeezed his leg in an attempt to comfort him. They were smiling, but genuine concern was apparent on their face, "Do you not like that? When I… Joke around? Or tease you? I can stop, if it bothers you."

Rolan felt his breath catch a moment. Then he let out an exasperated sigh, "No, no… I'm sorry. Maybe it's just, a mixture of the constant teasing I already receive from Lia and Cal, and… all the stress we've dealt with in the grove. I can tell, I've been… quick to lose myself. I swear, under better circumstances I am significantly more collected. I've just… all this! Has just been… so… augh!" his hands clenched and released at nothing in the air, "Gods, I have just been so anxious to get to my apprenticeship in Baldur's Gate! I feel like every second we spend here is a second wasted. This is all time that could be spent as Master Lorroakan's apprentice! At times I feel as if nobody else cares enough to -" Tav heard it immediately, his voice starting to crack. He caught himself, breathing deep. Then, taking his entire glass of wine down in two large gulps, he tosses the cup aside and lays on the ground, a heavy THUMP accompanying the action. His palms pressing against his eyes, his fingers rubbing his temple. He let out a heavy groan, "This was not at all how I intended the night to go."

Tav gave a soft smile, drinking the rest of their wine and placing the glass down beside them. They laid on their side next to Rolan, their head propped up by one arm, while their other reached over to carefully remove one of his hands from his face. He opened one eye to glance up at them.

"I hope you're aware I'm having a fine time tonight," they said with a smile. Rolan huffed.

"Reveling in my misery?" he said, his tone dry.

"No," Tav replied, pulling his other hand away from his face, "I mean, I will admit. Its nice to see that the Great Wizard Rolan doesn't really have it all together," Rolan's eyes caught theirs. Not angry, but clearly anticipating some sort of following statement. Tav smirked at him before looking away, biting their lip as a shy smile found its way across their face.

"I like seeing you vulnerable, Rolan," Tav said softly, "I like knowing there's someone with… feelings in there. Like, I get thay you're... stressed. This is all very stressful. But… I don't know. When you talk about how much you love your siblings, how much you hate loving your siblings… This all just tells me, you do have a heart. Deep, deep down, somewhere… Even if you try really, really, really hard to convince everyone you're this selfish, arrogant, pretentious, egotistical -" Tav's words were cut short as Rolan's lips planted themselves firmly against theirs, his hand reaching up to cup their chin in his palm.

The sensations experienced in but a half second were overwhelming. His lips were warm, and soft, the taste of fine wine still fresh on his breath. His hand was strong, dexterous. Like a musician, there was delicate experience beneath his touch. Mixed with the now buzzing sensation of fresh wine hitting their bloodstream. Tav felt dizzy, in the best possible way.

Their eyes fluttered shut as they realized what was happening. They felt Rolan begin to pull away, worried he may have overstepped, only for Tav to immediately follow him. Pushing him back onto the ground and pulling themselves above him, falling further into his kiss. The sudden, enthusiastic reciprocation left Rolan purring low into every kiss that followed. One hand still holding Tav's face to his, the other exploring the curves of their body. When Rolan's nails accidentally slipped under Tav's shirt, grazing their bare skin, they let out a shuddering gasp against his lips.

"I'm sorry," he said, pulling back on impulse. His voice was trembling, his mouth aching to return to Tav's embrace, "Is this okay? I… I should have asked first, or -"

They kissed him again, savoring him as if he were the wine they meant to share tonight.

"Yes, Rolan," Tav smiled against him, kissing him softly between their words, "This is more than okay."

"We're both drunk," Rolan continued between Tav's peppering onslaught of kisses, "I don't want us to… I don't want you to… come to regret anything…" Tav leaned into him, catching his lips in a kiss more tender and intimate than any of the starved, frantic ones they had already shared. When Tav finally pulled back, they held Rolan's gaze. The spark of infernal fire in his eyes twinkling back at him in the reflection of their own.

"Don't talk like that, Rolan. I came here because I wanted to… I want to be with you. There'd be nothing to regret," they wrapped their arms around his neck, holding the back of his head in their hands, kissing him again. And he held onto the moment for dear life. Tav released to take a breath, their lips tracing his own.

"Whatever you want tonight. Whatever you need, I'm yours."

I'm yours, he thought.

The words flooded him, a hunger pulsing through his blood, building in his throat. Static leaping across every nerve, every muscle. He took a deep breath in, kissing Tav again before pulling away, focusing himself well enough to whisper, "It's more comfortable inside."

Tav's eyes gleamed in the moonlight as they smiled up at him. Twisting in each others arms, practically crawling across the ground, the two made their way into Rolan's tent. The wizard tried to lay Tav onto his bedroll, but it seemed they had other plans. His little hero may have been smaller than him, but they were certainly much stronger. Tav quickly flipped him onto his back, straddling his legs, their hands tracing down from his neck, across his chest, resting down just below his navel. And they could feel Rolan shifting - and growing ­- beneath them.

And while they tried their best to hide it, Tav was suddenly struck with a sobering awareness of the position they were in. They bit their lip, their face running hot, unsure just how to proceed. Rolan ghosted his hands across their hips and thighs before settling on a spot to secure them. Sensing their shared trepidation, he gripped them slightly tighter, adjusting himself enough to allow his hips to roll into theirs. Tav let out a breathless moan, their hand reaching up to their face and brushing up against their lips. Rolan immediately reached up to grab their wrist, pulling their hand away from their face and towards his own. Tav froze, catching his gaze, as Rolan brought their hand to his mouth.

He kissed and bit their wrist tenderly, careful not to break skin with his incisors, allowing his teeth and tongue to trace the shape of them. Tav's body shuddered, their free hand twisting into the fabric of Rolan's robes. They rocked their hips into him, finding the pressure of the growing arousal beneath them, shifting to line him up with their own aching entrance.

As soon as Tav found their mutual sweet spot, Rolan let out a hissing whine. He gripped at Tav's legs to still them. They immediately stopped, even trying to lift themselves off of him slightly.

"I'm sorry, is that -"

"Its fine Tav, its - Hells, its incredible -" Rolan's words came out between heaving breaths. Tav gently settled back down onto his lap, and his head fell into his pile of pillows. Lifting a hand to run through his hair, he laughed to himself. Without looking up, he spoke, "Its been a while, to be blunt. A good, long while. Well before Elturel, even, since I've…" He took a deep breath, lifting himself slightly and looking over Tav's body. His hands run up and down their thighs, tracing his thumbs inside their legs, meeting their hips. Tav inhaled sharply, pushing themselves against him again in response.

"Gods," Rolan closed his eyes, laying his head back down, still gripping into their hips, "I worry I won't last long with you…" Tav smiled before leaning back into him to catch his lips again.

"I wouldn't hold it against you," they teased, biting his lip. Tav's mouth opened, licking between his lips, seeking entry. He immediately gasped and caught their tongue with his, breathing into them, drinking them in.

Tav's need for him was building as they ground themselves deeper. His hips bucking up and Tav moaning his name into his desperate mouth. He rolled into them again, gripping their hips and thighs tighter as he pressed their bodies together. This time, Tav's moan came out with a giggle, kisses now tracing across his jaw, his neck, below his ear.

"Fuck me," Rolan groaned.

"Are you asking?" Tav whispered.

They felt his cock under his robes twitch against them in response. His hands had moved from their thighs; now gripped tightly around their ass as he pushed himself against them. He was moaning - whimpering, really - from their words, from their touch, his legs practically shaking beneath them.

"Rolan," they sighed into his ear, "You need to tell me what you want…" Their hand sliding between them, under his robes, down to his crotch, stroking his fully erect member still tucked away by his pants.

"Ah!" Gods, he felt pathetic. Having already come undone by the slightest touch, his thoughts flooded with everything he wanted to do, everything he wanted them to do. It was so overwhelming he could barely think, let alone speak. Tav whispered into his ear again.

"Rolan, please," their chest pressed against his. He could feel their nipples puckering beneath their shirt. Tav was unrelenting, kissing and licking his ear, his neck, stroking his cock while pleasuring themself against his thigh.

"I - Ngh! - Tav, I - y-your mouth, please -" was all Rolan could squeak out between his heaving breaths. Tav smiled, biting his earlobe playfully, as if to thank him. Their hand left the length of him to instead unclasp the belt around his waist. He quickly followed their lead and removed the mantle adorning his chest, practically throwing it to the foot of his tent. Preparing to disrobe further, Tav stilled his hands.

"Let me," they whispered, leaning in to kiss him again. Between the kisses, the hums and moans of approval, Tav's hands slipped beneath Rolan's robes. Not fully undressing him, but rather pushing the layers of fabric away from him, revealing the lower length of his infernal chest. The hills and peaks of cartilage that ran across his tiefling bones now exposed, and Tav's kisses left his lips to find the skin at the base of his ribs. His fists clenched at either side of him as he inhaled sharply, their eyes glancing upwards as their tongue traced a line further down.

Slowly - Gods, so achingly slow - their fingers began to slip beneath the waistband of his trousers, his pants pitching shamefully high between his legs. His tail was now thumping to the side of him, causing Tav to release a muffled laugh against his pelvis. They ran their cheek along his thigh as they pulled his pants down with them. His cock dragged down, caught in the taught waistband, before the tip came free, bouncing upright, and dripping with his own anticipation.

Tav's eyes lit up. He was long. And his infernal features seemed to spread across more aspects of his body than they were expecting. The length of him adorned with ridges and divots they had never seen on any other being they'd had the pleasure of bedding. Eyes still wide, a grin creeping across their face, they glanced back up at Rolan.

His eyes were shut tight. Eyes, jaw, fists - all clenched. The only tell about him suggesting any excitement at all was the thick and throbbing member mere inches from their face, and the tail still lashing about the ground.

Before Tav touched Rolan's wanting length, their hand traced up to his, running across his wrist and up his arm, coaxing him to relax. He inhaled deeply, releasing a shaky breath as his hands came loose from their fists.

Eyes still closed, Tav kissed along the inside of his thigh and whispered, "Look at me?"

Rolan gasped quietly as his cock twitched, a pearl of pre release dripping down his length. His hand reached out, searching for Tav's head. He cupped their cheek as he allowed his eyes to lull open.

Tav held his free hand while the other ran up his thigh before allowing their thumb to tease and trace the skin at the base of him. His hips rolled slightly as more pre cum dripped from his head in want. Tav wrapped their hand around him, and made certain his eyes were trained on theirs as they licked their lips and left soft kisses at the base of his cock.

"Hells below," Rolan moaned, hips rocking with hesitation. Tav's mouth opened as their kisses grew sloppy, their tongue laving the side of him, their lips gently sucking at his skin. His hand had left their cheek and ran through their hair. He didn't dare grab them. He just watched, his cock twitching and throbbing, in pure disbelief.

They grazed their nose down his shaft before sticking out their tongue - wide, wet, flat - and dragging it up the entire length of him, catching all the droplets of his arousal that coated him. And upon reaching his head, Tav looked Rolan in the eyes, as they let the pre cum and saliva in their mouth drip from their tongue down his dick.

They rolled their eyes shut, wrapping their lips around the head of him, and began taking him into their mouth. Their tongue lax around his shaft, guiding the whole of his cock further into them, until they could feel his tip tease the back of their throat..

"Gods, Tav -" was all Rolan could manage, before the hand in their hair clenched into a fist, his hips rocking upwards, pushing himself further into their mouth. His hips moved in short, stuttering thrusts as a powerful release struck him. Pulsing ropes of cum shot down Tav's throat as they held him with confidence, swallowing every drop. Their tongue flexing against his shaft as they drank down his spend. Rolan whimpered infernal phrases Tav couldn't understand, his voice breaking between whatever psalms they thought he may be reciting, before it was replaced with mumbles in common, "Sorry… 'm sorry…"

A moment passed before Rolan's body finally stilled, his hand releasing gently from the tangled mess he made of Tav's hair. Shaky hands reaching to try to smooth out the wild strands as they raised themselves off of his softening member, peppering it with gentle kisses and tucking him back into his clothes before reaching their fingers up to wipe around their lips. They looked up at Rolan, their cheeks flush. A panting, open mouthed smile adorning their face. The tiefling looked upon them. His chest heaving and his mind blank, left speechless and sincerely unsure if he weren't in some wine-drunk fever dream, given the radiance of the creature knelt between his legs.

Tav crawled their way on top of him, leaning back in and kissing him deeply. Still dazed in the aftermath of his own release, he nearly didn't register the hero's touch. But his hands soon enough regained their feeling, and wrapped their way around Tav's waist, pulling them in to lay with him side-by-side. They kissed sweetly, like teenage lovers in a school yard - soft and surprisingly innocent - before Tav pulled back smiling, burying their face in the crook of Rolan's neck.

He held his partner for a moment, blissed out and reeling, before coming well enough to his senses to realize…

"Well, hold now. Don't get too comfortable," Tav's head raised to look at him, eyes dreamy and confused. Rolan scoffed with a smile, "What kind of man would I be not to return this favor?"

Tav laughed softly and pushed their head back into his neck, "You don't have to 'return' anything, Rolan. I enjoyed myself just fine."

They felt Rolan's hand smooth over their hair, falling down behind their ear and urging them to look up at him. They let his hand guide them back to face him, searching his eyes until he leaned in to kiss them again.

And again.

And again.

Tracing his tongue across their lips, breathing in the taste of him that still lingered on their skin. Kissing them until he felt their body rock against him. Running their hands up his chest, over his shoulders, down his back. Pulling him close at the waist. He could hear, and feel, the way they moaned into his mouth. He let his hand travel from the small of their back to the front of their leathers, trying his best to keep himself steady as he untied the laces.

Rolan felt Tav's hands grip him tighter at his waist while he worked to loosen their garments, until he felt there'd be room enough for his hand to slide beneath the fabric. He kissed them slow, praying they couldn't feel the way his hand trembled as he ran his fingers against their skin. Dipping below the hem of their trousers, tracing the back of his hand across the soft flesh where their stomach met their thighs. Their lips broke from his as they took in a sharp breath, eyes closing slightly at the gentle touch.

Rolan turned his hand around, his palm against their stomach, as he ran his fingers down. Further below their open leathers, teasing the lace of their underclothes with the tips of his fingers. They felt the pad of his fingertips pressing against the sensitive skin that lay hidden beneath their most intimate fabric. They lulled their eyes open to look back into the eyes of the man laying before them.

Warm and twinkling golden rings were watching them diligently, the iris a thin halo around his wide blown pupils. He ran gentle, hesitant circles over the dampening fabric between their legs, swallowing deep as they looked into his eyes. Their mouth hung open as quiet, gasping breaths escaped them. He had never seen anything more beautiful.

He pressed his fingers further between their folds, teasing their hole beneath their underclothes. Tav bit their lip, wincing slightly, and Rolan paused. Pulling his fingers back an inch, Tav immediately reached for his wrist, panting heavily. Rolan searched their face again, a wordless inquiry of concern.

"I, um," Tav started, suddenly nervous, "Your, um… your claws…" Rolan's cheeks flushed as he tried to pull his hand away from them, but Tav held his wrist tighter.

"Don't stop!" they choked out, perhaps a bit too hastily.

"Well, I…" Rolan swallowed, "I don't want to hurt you…" he carefully freed himself from Tav's grasp. For a moment, they feared he'd become too embarrassed to continue.

Rolan brought his hand to his lips, hesitating before biting off the ends of the claws on his two middle fingers, and turning his head to spit them out by the entrance of his tent. Tav's eyes went wide as they tried to hide their smile, their hands ghosting up Rolan's sides. He looked back at them, beginning to reach his palm back down towards their apex.

Before he got far, they stopped his wrist and brought his hand up to their mouth. Watching him closely, they laved his fingers with their tongue. Sucking gently, tracing between the two fingers, eyelids flitting to meet his gaze. They smiled as they felt his body shiver in excitement.

A thin trail of Tav's saliva stuck to his fingers as they pulled him from their mouth. They helped guide his hand back down between them, letting go when he found their stomach. Tav brought their hands down to their clothes, shifting to remove their pants and underclothes from their legs completely. Rolan took a sharp inhale, watching their bare bottom half as they got comfortable, trying - and failing - not to ogle at them, before willing his racing heart to steady itself. He traced his fingers lower, trailing over the slightly trimmed patch of hair between their thighs. Tav's hands found his neck and brought his face to their own. Closing the distance, close enough now to feel his breath on their skin, to hear when he tried to stifle his cries. Every moan and whisper to be shared in the space between them.

With no fabric to separate his touch, Rolan easily found his way between Tav's folds again. And now, he could feel just how shamefully wet they were for him. Their moans fell from their lips directly onto his, wordlessly begging him to continue. Sliding himself further, he used his outer fingers to spread them open, tracing his trimmed fingers across their entrance.

Tav pulled at his neck, rocking their hips against his hand and trying to coax his fingers into slipping inside. They lifted their leg to hook around Rolan's back. His eyes darted across their face, watching the way their eyes glazed over, the way their lips trembled in silent cries. His own breath shaking, he let his fingers sink into them.

The moan that rose from Tav's throat made his core tighten, he could feel his half hard length twitch in his trousers as Tav squeezed the back of his neck. They used their leg to pull his waist against them, urging him to keep going. Rolan froze for a moment, basking in - what he could only describe as - the celestial being laid beside him. All this, just from his hand. His chest burned, proud of how good he was making them feel. How good he needed them to feel from him - for him.

He moved his free hand to cup the side of their head, stroking his thumb across their cheek. Tav leaned into him, kissing his thumb before licking the tip of it into their mouth. Rolan groaned at the sight before even registering the warmth of their mouth around his digit.

"Tav," he whispered, his voice trembling. They let out a small laugh beneath their moans. They sucked his thumb, rolling it over their tongue, while they ran their hand down to his wrist between their thighs. They traced their fingers around the back of his hand, pushing him deeper into them. All the while, he could feel his cock growing firm all over again, as Tav sunk deeper into their own arousal.

"Keep going," they whispered around his thumb, as they rolled their hips against him. Their eyes locking with his, begging for him in the way they stared. Rolan pulled his hand away from their lips and dipped forward to kiss them, curling the fingers inside of them against their clenching walls. Tav whimpered his name against his mouth, holding his wrist tighter and locking their hands between their pressed bodies.

Rolan let his fingers follow the rhythm Tav set with their hips, pushing into them when they rocked closer and gauging what felt best for them by the way they sang into his mouth. He curled his fingers again, then spread them apart inside of them, making Tav clench him harder.

They took his free hand in theirs and brought it under their shirt, letting his fingers glide across their breasts. Rolan stilled at the prospect of touching them further as Tav released him, smiling against his mouth in wait. Rolan slowly let his hand cup the soft skin of their chest, at first, before tracing their stiff nipple under his thumb, and pinching it between his fingers.

"Gods, yes, Rolan," Tav urged him on, freeing both their hands from him and gripping his neck once more. Kissing him and encouraging him to continue, "Keep touching me, please."

Their begging seemed to be just what Rolan needed. The fingers inside of them started thrusting at a steady pace, his thumb making swiping motions across their swollen clit as he fucked them with his hand. The hand on their breast squeezing and massaging their skin, kissing them and sucking on their tongue before dipping his head down further and catching the nipple not occupied with his hands between his lips. Tav ran their fingers through his hair, one hand wrapping around the back of one horn as they muffled their moans into the top of his head. They could feel his cock twitching against their thigh as they fucked themselves on his fingers.

"Please don't stop, please don't - Fuck," Tav's breath hitched in their throat as Rolan's tongue swirled over their stiff bud, teasing it between his teeth and pressing his thumb harder against their clit. He could hear their heartbeat quicken in their chest, the frantic way their hips continued to rock against him, "Rolan! Rolan, I - Fuck!" They grabbed the side of his head and pulled him back up to face them, kissing him hard before pulling back and holding his gaze, "Make me cum, please. Please. Look at me and - and make me cum," tears pooled in the corner of their eyes as Rolan's fingers thrust into them, refusing to break eye contact with the divine being laying with him.

"Yes," he whispered, his voice low, heavy with lust, "Cum for me."

Tav's leg clenched against the small of his back, holding him against them as their hips rocked in short and steady bursts before finally going still. They held his gaze, their jaw locked in a gasp as they came against his hand.

Rolan could feel the way their inner walls gripped him, fluttering, as their labia pulsed in his palm pressed firmly against them. He could feel their shaking body against his own erect length tucked away. Try as he may to still himself from crying out when he felt himself cum against their thigh, a rather pathetic, squeaking cry still fell from his trembling lips. The climax itself sending shivers rocketing up his spine, and down his tail.

They moaned against each others mouths, Tav still whispering Rolan's name, and Rolan trying hard not to cry in full from the ecstasy of his own unexpected orgasm in the process. He could feel the way his ejaculate pooled uncomfortably in his pants. Yet, he hardly cared, as Tav's body trembled in the aftershocks of their own satisfaction. Their hands tangled in his hair, tracing their fingers along his neck and ears, panting into his mouth as they tried to steady themselves.

They pressed shaky kisses against his chest, right in the center of his collarbone, until their body finally relaxed. Rolan kissed the top of their head as he continued to hold them. And for a while, they lay just like this. Hot, sweaty, sticky, and spent, until Rolan could feel Tav stir in his embrace. He loosened himself from them as they sat upright, wondering if they needed to excuse themselves, head back to camp, now that they had…

"Um," Tav gripped their knees to their chest, "Do you have any clean rags?"

Rolan felt himself blush, shy, as if they weren't already sat half naked before him. He laughed to himself, "I do," he replied, "You're welcome to one, but. Um… I-If I may…?"

Tav looked at him, their own face flushed and tinged with confusion. Rolan's laid outstretched, offering them a spot back in his arms. They nodded softly, leaning back into his warmth. He let them lay across his arm, as he brought his free hand up to their chest. Resting his palm between the curves of their breasts, he kissed Tav's shoulder and traced his hand down their torso, resting between their legs.

Tav watched his hand anxiously, biting their bottom lip as their heartbeat picked back up. They heard Rolan whisper an incantation, and watched his hand glow a bright golden yellow, growing comfortably warm between their legs. The wizard let his fingers kiss their skin so very delicately, and Tav could feel the fluid from their release wash away. The discomfort of it having become cool and tacky against their skin, replaced with the feeling of a warm bath towel lovingly stroked across them.

They closed their eyes as soft sighs and moaning whispers fell from their tired lips, turning their head to kiss the tiefling beside them as he brought his spell to an end. His still warm hand resting under their thighs, pulled up and over his legs as he held them in their kiss.

When Tav finally rested their head into the warm crook of his shoulder, he reached beside his pillows for a light blanket to lay across their exposed legs. His tail slid out to close their tent flaps completely - Thank the Gods he chose such a solitary campsite this evening, he thought, as he realized just how exposed they've been this entire time.

When it seemed as if Tav may have drifted off, Rolan quickly cast the same prestidigitation upon himself to clean up his own mess, with significantly less flair for the dramatics this time. Finally ready to settle down and perhaps sleep for the evening with…

Rolan blinked as his eyes fell to the adventurer resting in his arms. Stray hairs framed the soft skin of their face, eyes closed and lips parted. Their hands were resting on his chest, one hand having two fingers loosely hooked into the ties of his robes. He let his eyes trail further down to the silhouette of their body beneath the thin lavender sheet he had placed across them. It flowed beautifully over their form, but still hugged the curves of their hips and thighs.

They had felt so soft, so… malleable. Rolan had been so use to his own infernal features. Hells, even before his reluctant spell of abstinence, he'd only ever been with other tieflings. So use to hard edges; the bones and spikes and horns and tails. He had never felt someone so… Soft. Fragile. He traced his his hand along the shape of them, and they gripped into his robe tighter. He froze, growing warm, realizing they were still awake.

They tilted their head up, eyes half open, and pulled him down into one final, sleepy kiss. His lips were warm as they smiled against him. Touching their noses to each other's, before Tav kissed his chin.

"Thank you," They mumbled, burying their face back into his chest. Rolan chuckled softly.

"For what?" He asked, but he never got an answer. Gentle snores came from the brave hero of the grove, who for some odd reason was still here, in his arms, seemingly asleep, with no intention of leaving until morning. Rolan smiled, kissing their temple softly, and settling in beside them.

"Of course, Tav," he whispered, For you? I'd do anything.

[angelkissiies]

hii can you do jock abby x cheerleader reader?

be aggressive

hockey player!abby anderson x cheerleader!reader

cw : modern!au, hockey!au, fluff, confrontation, abby stands up for the reader, cursing, college bitches being bitches.

“Fuck!” You huffed, attempting to find a parking space in the crowded rink parking lot. Game days definitely had begun to test your patience, today more so as you’d already been running late but now with how it was going- you’d be coming in seconds before call time, which gave you a heart attack to even think about. 

By some grace of god (or whoever was listening at that point), you found a spot nestled between a black jeep you recognized as Abby’s and some Nissan that was missing a bumper. Trying to waste no time, you hustled out with your hefty bag thrown over your shoulder and skates dangling from your hand as you held them by the laces. The lot was mainly empty as you sprinted towards the entrance, dodging random gaggles of people who you assumed were waiting for the game to start, but were conveniently in the way. 

You pushed through the main doors glancing around to find your team, before breaking through a group of away players that hoarded the doorway leading into the changing rooms (that weren’t even for them, you’d think they’d move considering the fact but no). “Sorry, excuse me.” You whispered harshly, giving them a half hearted dirty look as they barely moved to allow you through. It was so unnecessary, you almost let it get to you but for the sake of time you dropped it. 

The scent of hairspray hit you first as you rushed into the cheerleaders quarters making you cough before throwing your bag down before making a b-line for the staging door. This led you down the hallway under the rink to the otherside, where your teammates were waiting patiently to begin. You turned the corner before running smack into someone else, their sheer presence sending you stumbling back a bit. Fucking hockey players and their massive bodies. 

“Oh baby, shit, I’m sorry.” You heard your girlfriend curse, a tinge of a laugh in her voice as she reached out to you. Oh, it's your hockey player, nevermind. She was headed to the opposite side of the rink to sit with the other players, as the puck drop didn’t take place until the pregame festivities ended. If you weren’t so stressed, you’d probably have made a joke about breaking the ice but the time didn’t come. 

You shook your head, focused on getting to your spot in time (and not pissing off your coach- again), brushing your hair down with your free hand to tame the strays that had ventured from their previous tight curls.. “I’m late, I'm so late, Abby.” You breathed, motioning towards the door that now seemed much farther away than you thought. “Do I look okay? I gotta go on.”

She nodded quickly, understanding in half a second as the first announcement rang out, muffled from where the two of you stood. She hooked a finger under your chin, pulling your face to look towards her instead of the rink before she gave you a smile. “You look perfect, now get out there.” She hummed, giving you a light shove towards the door, watching as you didn’t hesitate to take off down the remainder of the hall. 

You practically ran to the door- skates clacking wildly as you barely made it before the second announcement came on the intercom. Its main purpose was to draw the ticket holders back into the building, signaling the entertainment was about to begin. You shoved your skates on, finishing tying them just as your coach called for the team to make their way to the door leading onto the ice. You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding as you followed behind your team, skates hitting the ice hard as you followed the outline of the routine you’d been practicing for the past couple weeks. Smile and skate, easy enough. 

Abby had made her way back to the other players, taking a seat as she double checked the laces on her skates. A habit she’d picked up after breaking her ankle a couple seasons ago due to her lace coming loose. She heard the music begin and dragged her attention to the ice, waiting to see you- just like she did every game. She always loved seeing you skate, even just as background but today you were front so she didn’t have to worry about not getting a good view. 

You came into view, your bejeweled uniform catching light from the overhead spotlights, shining gracefully as you did some precise turn that Abby couldn’t even name. She’d always be thankful for the convincing that had taken place to get you both here, as you almost passed up the idea of cheerleading due to annoying stereotypes from American football cheerleaders. She knew you didn’t see her in the haze of light, as the ice made it much too bright to see much outside of the rink, so she usually took the chance to brag to her teammates. Though, as she began to turn to a player she knew quite well, Nora, she caught the tail end of a conversation between two benched cheerleaders. 

“She only got in because her girlfriend is on the team, they totally played favorites.” The one on the left hissed, rolling her eyes at the number you were doing. It was virtually flawless, leading Abby to lean into the conversation more. 

The girl on the right laughed, yawning dramatically. “I think it’s kinda weird, Abby is definitely a good player but like why do they have to be gay? Gives us a bad rep.” She proclaimed, attempting to hush her voice down to a level nobody would hear. 

Abby caught it though, letting out a chuckle of disbelief as she turned around on the bench to face the girls. It seemed like they didn’t realize who they were sitting in front of, or, they knew and just felt brave enough to keep talking shit. “Fucking excuse me?” She stated, tilting her head at the duo. Angry was an understatement, furious would be a better descriptor as she watched the girls freeze. They could talk shit about her, sure, but she drew the line when it came to you or better yet your relationship as queer women. 

“I don’t know what you heard bu-,”

“Shut the fuck up,” Abby growled, cutting the girl off. “Keep my girlfriends name and our relationship out of your fucking mouth. I know for a fact you wouldn’t want this getting back to Coach Mckillen, right? Your little homophobic comments about a girl who’s ten times as talented out there than you are wouldn’t go over so smoothly, huh?” 

Knowing fully she planned to report them to the coach, she raised an eyebrow at the duo, watching them scramble to attempt to apologize. Her heart hammered in her chest, never having dealt with such outspoken bigotry- especially from a team composed of mostly queer women.  She didn’t let it show, only turning back to the ice, shaking off the stares she’d gathered from her tiny outburst. 

“Damn, Anderson. That was rough.” Nora laughed, nudging the girl gently, having overheard the entire ordeal. “You’re a mean bitch.” 

Abby bit back a smile at the comment, knowing it was 100% true. “Can’t have anyone out here bad mouthing my girl, that’s all.” She mumbled back, searching the skaters until her eyes landed on you again. From the distance she was at, she could see the healthy blush on your skin from the exhausting choreo she’d watched you practice solo multiple times in the past week, all accompanied by a blissful smile you reserved for crowd work only. 

Nora shook her head, eyes glancing over to see the way Abby watched you as you finished up the last of your performance, turning to skate towards the door that led into the players seating. She had seen firsthand how much Abby cared for you, knowing the girl's plans for your birthday made the moment even more special, seeing as soon there would be a crystalline addition to your relationship. “God help any motherfuckers who try.” She chuckled, standing up to give the cheerleaders room to sit as the groups traded places on the ice. 

You pulled the door open, allowing your mates to go in before entering yourself, coming up to Abby before even considering capping your skates. “Good luck, Abs.” You smiled, face glowing in a sheen of sweat and pure joy as you looked up at her. “You’re gonna do great.” 

Abby smiled down at you, cupping your face in her gloved hands as she pressed a deep kiss to your lips, intentionally drawing it out to annoy the girls who now sat sulking on the second row of benches. Her lips tasted like cinnamon and honey, something you’d grown to love about the woman, her unusual taste in chapstick- and how you never knew what you’d get. “Thank you, pretty girl.” She hummed, pressing another short kiss to your lips before Nora practically dragged her out onto the ice- throwing her helmet to her blindly. 

“Don’t forget!” You called after her, your stupid tradition drawing a smile onto her lips as you recited the beginning of an age old cheer usually reserved for football- but with the force your girl brought to the ice, it felt fitting “Be aggressive.” 

Abby shook her head at you gingerly, mouthing it back before pushing her mouth guard into place and throwing her braid over her shoulder. A slight laugh bubbled in her chest as she got into position, awaiting the face-off. 

B-E aggressive.

[novasintheroom]

As they got closer, would Prince Vash ever consider giving his wife a proper proposal one day? I'm assuming since it was arranged, it was more of a "He sent you a ring (It was most likely Nai rather than Vash)" sort of situation or a proposal that was very staged.

Maybe Vash suggests it as a joke to his wife/or maybe she asked him how he would do it (because, as she gets to know him, it's very obvious that he didn't plan it). However as he's doing it, Vash realizes that his feelings are truly much deeper than he thought.

Hey anon! Thanks for sending this in, I really had to think hard on it. This happens way later in their relationship, hence the ending. I hope this lives up to expectations! <3

--

“If you were to propose to me, how would you do it?”

Vash looks up from his book he was reading to you, sitting across from him. The night has fallen, and with it comes your new ritual of reading together before bed. The candles on the walls cast a soft glow of gold. You’re curled up on the armchair of his room, your own book in hand. Yet, he sees you fiddling with your wedding band, and frowns. “What, uh, why?”

You shrug, one leg coming out from your skirts to roll your ankle. Vash stares at the bare skin for a moment before looking back at you. “Just…wondering, I suppose. We saw those two proposals in the villages a few days ago, and it’s so different than how we…” You sigh through your nose and finally look up at him. “I suppose…I don’t know. I know our marriage was – is a contract of convenience, but, I’ve gotten to know you, and, well, I can see that you would have done it differently if given the chance.”

Vash leans back in his chair, a small smile playing on his lips. “It’s that obvious, huh?”

You’re looking at your ring again. “There’s no way you would have picked a ring like this.”

And you’re right. It’s big, gaudy. Inlaid with sapphires and ice-cold diamonds, it screams power and wealth – two of the most opposite things Vash has ever pursued. Something warms in Vash’s chest, and he closes his book, getting up from his chair with a groan. You look up, a slight worry in your eyes – you’re always worrying you said something wrong. Vash’s easy smile abates your fears. He stands before you with his hand held out.

Gently, you place your left hand in it. Vash thumbs over the giant square diamond at the center of the ring. Pah, leave it to Nai to choose a ring this ugly. It doesn’t suit you. Not with how quiet and simply you live. Not with your kind pleasantness and golden heart. “Do you want a new ring? I can get one made for you?”

“What I want,” you say, staring up at him, “is to know how you would have proposed to me.”

He feels a hot flush rise to his cheeks. “You mean I couldn’t get away with sending the marriage contract over?” He laughs when you swat his stomach, faking an ‘oof’ just for you. “Alright, alright, let me think…”

Vash doesn’t let go of your hand, thumbing over your knuckles, your ring, as he does. “Well, for starters, I’d give you a better ring than that. Something simpler, maybe. With rubies.”

“You and the color red,” you joke.

He shrugs and grins. “It’s always been my color.” Carefully, he takes your wedding band off and rubs where the ring sat. “That thing is huge. Does it weigh down your finger?”

You purse your lips. “No, but it does catch on my skirts every now and then.”

“Ah,” he says, staring at your lips. He shakes himself and continues. “I’d probably take you out to the palace gardens to do it. Maybe in the hidden gazebo, so I could ask you privately.”

“There’s a hidden gazebo?”

“Shh, don’t interrupt!”

“Sorry,” you giggle, using your free hand to cover your mouth and wait.

Vash clears his throat and gets on one knee. “Then, after I’ve thoroughly and completely wooed you with my devilish charm and quick wit – “ he ignores your rude snort “ – I’d tell you – “ He pauses again, this time to think.

You wait, shifting your legs under you. “Well?”

Vash looks up at you, heart suddenly in his throat. He feels the ring in his hand, that massive, chunky thing, and feels small, staring up at you. Is this how men are supposed to feel before their wives? Meek and submissive and – and in love? He looks at your eyes, your nose, your lips, your ears, your hair, your hands. Vash cannot deny he is in love. And for once, he is willing to show it to the person who matters most.

So, taking your hand in both of his, he begins earnestly. “We did not know each other growing up. We did not know each other when we met. But we know each other now, and that is the greatest gift I have ever received. You are kind, and prickly in the mornings, and have a love for peaches, and so, so wonderful in your quiet, dignified way. You make me laugh, and think, and I…I don’t know how I got through life without someone like you by my side. You’re amazing, and, if you’ll have me, I’d like to be your husband…forever.” He slips the ring back onto your finger and looks up to you.

You’re quiet. You have tears in your eyes. Your mouth moves in waves, trying to form words. “That,” you clear your throat, but it doesn't help, “that was beautiful. I’m sure the girl you’re in love with would have…would have fallen right into your arms.”

“Well, not exactly. You’re still sitting here, aren’t you?”

Your grin is telling. There’s a relief that comes with it. You both know you are in love with each other. It just took some time to come to terms with it. And with Vash’s sudden confession, it becomes so easy to accept it. You scramble off your seat and hug Vash to you, squishing his head to your chest while his arms come around your thighs.

Weeks later, you’d find a box with a ring inside it inside your room. You’d open it, and with a laugh, put on the new, ruby-inlaid ring, leaving the old clunky one to gather dust in your jewelry box. For my wife, the note would say, whom I love dearly.

[klaustozier]

suckerpunch ; chishiya

SUMMARY: you and chishiya are the leaders of the two rival gangs that control the city, but, one night, when you see chishiya being unfairly harmed, you save him.

this is smut, be aware of what you read!

warnings: chishiya x fem!reader, you're a fucking badass, chishiya's older than you, enemies to fuck buddies, this was a request so here it is (i hope that what i did is okay to the person that asked for a hate fuck, cause i wanted to be a little more rough), drugs (only weed), degradation kink, chishiya has tattoos, choking, spanking

word count: 4,4k

english is not my first language, i'm sorry for any mistakes.

i hope you like it.

Maybe you shouldn't be doing this, but there was no other option. You weren't going to leave him in the hospital, he was going to put him in jail and there was a certain balance in the city with the two gangs and you knew it, it wasn't worth destroying everything over a shitty new gang.

You and Chishiya were the leaders of the gangs that dominated the city's traffic and the two gangs left the city balanced, running normally and it was like that for so many years that it was already part of everyday life, but a third gang had begun to want to take over the city. You were trying to find them to destroy them, but you didn't have much information yet.

That night you were going to a convenience store to get some food when you saw three guys punching and kicking a fourth guy on the floor of an empty parking lot, you thought the fight was unfair and decided you were going to stop it, it got even more personal when you saw who it was the blonde guy on the floor, his face all bruised and bloody from the blows he had taken. You weren't going to let a random gang kill the enemy that was yours even more so in a fight like that.

So you killed the three of them and took Chishiya to your car. He wasn't easy to carry him, but you did it. You wouldn't share your city with people who enjoyed that kind of unfair fighting.

When you noticed you were sitting Chishiya on top of your toilet, inside your bathroom, inside your studio apartment. If there was no way to get Chishiya to a hospital and you didn't know how to contact his gang to get their leader, then you had to take care of him.

“Chishiya?”, you called softly, lightly slapping his face, who woke up startled, ready to punch whoever called him, but you wrapped your hand around his fist, “Calm down, calm down, I won't hurt you .”

Shuntaro's eyes widened and he looked around, "What do you think you're doing?"

“Can you calm down?”, you asked, letting go of his hand, opening the mirror cabinet over the sink to Chishiya’s left and taking out a heavy-duty first-aid kit you had (heavy-duty as it had a needle and thread to sew up wounds, if needed).

“Where am I?”

“Okay, let's go”, you placed the first-aid kit over the sink and opened it taking cotton, alcohol, gauze and plaster from inside and placed them on the sink, doing it while explaining: “I was going to buy…”, and you decided not to say what you were going to specify what you were doing, he didn't deserve to know, “something when I saw three people hitting one in an empty parking lot. I thought the fight was very unfair, it was three against one, the person on the ground was already unconscious and I considered stopping the fight, until I saw that you were the one on the ground and decided that I was definitely going to stop the fight.”

Chishiya listened in silence and watched as you soaked a cotton ball in alcohol, “But why did you save me? You could have let me die.”

You laughed, stood in front of the other and pulled his face up by the chin, still smirking, "If there's anyone in this town who's going to kill you, it's going to be me."

Chishiya's eyes widened a little. That statement was supposed to sound threatening, and it did, so why did he feel his stomach turn over and not with fear? His concluding thoughts were cut short when the alcohol swab touched his cut lip making him shift and move away from the swab.

“No, no, no”, you said holding him by the back of the head, “I'm going to have to clean these wounds so swallow your crying.”

Chishiya should have been offended, but once again his body reacted differently, maybe he hit his head or got hit too hard. What he didn't think about was how strange and different that was, they never had that dynamic, they had already met and talked several times, but it was a strange situation. They had never touched each other before. It felt like where your fingers touched him it burned his body.

You didn't feel different, being silent with the other and taking care of him was strange and you liked it. What your shouldn't, you were just taking care of the enemy that way so you could personally kill him in the future.

“Take off your shirt”, you asked.

Chishiya frowned at you, “Not even a wine? Not even a little vodka just to cheer me up?”

You rolled your eyes and laughed, "Fuck you, just take your fucking shirt off."

“So violent… Jesus, you sound like a criminal… like a gang member.”

“Shut up, Shuntaro, just do what I say.”

Chishiya laughed and pulled his shirt up, his torso hurted a little doing that, but it could be worse. There were some shallow cuts on his chest, that was where the blood on his shirt came from, but luckily nothing that needed sewing up. You just kept cleaning up, not wanting to pay too much attention to the bruised and tattooed chest.

“How did they get to you like that? Alone?”, you asked, trying not to pay attention to his body, it wasn't the moment to be attracted to Chishiya.

“I have a suspicion that someone from my gang told them where I was going”, Chishiya sucked in air between his teeth as alcohol fell into his chest wounds, “I didn't like one of them anyway, now I'm sure that he must have been in on it."

“And why did you let him join the gang if you didn’t like him?”

“He was already in the gang when I became a leader”, he explained, his face contorting as you cleaned his wounds.

“And how do you intend to take care of it? It is not good to have a snitch in the group.”

“First, I'm going to try to see if it really is him”, began the seated man and once again sucked in air between his teeth, “Maybe I should pretend to go somewhere alone and see if they show up again, so I can do some kind of ambush and destroy them all.”

“Would you like some help?”

"What? Do you want to help?"

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend, isn't it?", you shrugged, "And I don't like them, I like them less than I like you."

“Awwwn”, Chishiya placed his hand over his heart and pouted.

“Fuck off", you commanded laughing softly, “And they're messing with my business too, it doesn't hurt to get together and end this little game, there's already two people running the town and that's enough.”

"We can join forces then, princess", Chishiya nodded, "But it will be for a very short time, we'll settle that and each one will go to their corner."

“Deal, Shuntaro.”

You offered your hand and Chishiya shook it briefly, sealing the deal. After that, you continued to clean his wounds and soon started bandaging all the cuts. Silence reigned, the two thinking about many things that did not involve rivalry or what happened. They both thought the same thing, in fact, how attractive the other was. Perhaps all the adrenaline had them a little out of their minds.

“Are you going to put gauze on my wounds and choke me to death?”, asked Chishiya, breaking the silence, making you laugh.

“Not today”, you replied smiling, “You're hurt, it wouldn't be fair. If I ever plan to kill you, it will be a fair fight, with both of you well rested and fed, no firearms, just bladed weapons and our fists and whoever dies, dies.”

The blonde nodded, "And in that case, it's going to be me the one who dies, right?"

 You leaned towards his face, getting dangerously close and smirked, "Of course."

“What makes you so sure you'd win, kitten?”, Chishiya challenged, the twinkle in his eyes was making you extremely tempted.

“I'm clearly faster”, you said, smiling.

Chishiya laughed wryly, and quickly fell silent as you took the scissors from the firs-aid kit and pressed the sharp tip against the blonde's Adam's apple, who swallowed hard.

Chishiya's strong, beautiful hand wrapped around your wrist and pushed it away from his neck, "And I'm stronger", he said, you forced your hand back into place, but the older one was stronger anyway, even if he wasn't the best conditions to fight.

You tried to attack using your other hand, but your wrist was also grabbed and Chishiya joined both of his hands and held it using only one of your hands.

“Do you want to keep playing, princess?”, teased the oldest.

You laughed wryly, tried to move your wrists and were unsuccessful, "You're still going to get fuck for crossing my path, Chishiya."

“I honestly think you're the one who's going to get fucked over this, baby girl.”

And the two faced each other. Hearts racing, that kind of talk was releasing too much adrenaline to make them think straight. Your eyes dropped to Chishiya's pretty lips, who mimicked the movement, it wasn't something easy to resist. Neither of them noticed exactly when this had happened, but in a moment one advanced towards the other and they began to kiss.

There was so much anger in that kiss. Chishiya would sometimes let out low whimper of pain, because his still delicate cut lip was being crushed by your lips. Even though you didn't want to admit it, those whimpers were making you so fucking horny. Maybe they shouldn't do anything since Chishiya was hurt, but you were leaving it up to him to say he wanted to stop.

Chishiya finally released his grip and grabbed your thighs pulling you onto his lap and pinned you against the cold tile wall.

“You are so light”, mocked the older one.

“Shut up, motherfucker”, you said, rolling your eyes.

“Wow, you sound like a criminal”, mocked the other again.

You rolled your eyes, "Are you going to do something or are you going to hold me here on the wall and get degraded?"

"There should be fetishes just for that."

“Do you have a fetish with that by any chance?”

The blonde chuckled and clasped your thighs in his hands, “No… not like this anyway…”

Chishiya came out of the bathroom with you in his arms and walked to your bed, where he threw you on the mattress and got on top of you. When he went to try to kiss you again, you grabbed him with your legs and arms and spun you around on the bed, getting on top.

“Are you as strong as you think, Chishiya?”, you teased.

The blonde laughed and leaned on his right elbow while his left hand went to the back of your neck pulling you closer, "Yes, I am", he informed, returning to kiss you.

The hand on the back of your neck that caressed your hair slid to your throat and wrapped it gently at first, wanting to know if it was okay to do what he wanted to do. As there wasn't any kind of displeasure shown, he gently squeezed the sides of your neck, receiving a soft sigh in return.

Chishiya parted their lips and watched the scene for a little while. You took your hand to the other's wrist and held on to it as if you needed help to hold yourself together. Your face was contorted adorably and your lips pretty, red and glossy. Chishiya was so hot with the cuts and bruises, he was already beautiful, but this was another level of attractiveness.

Your hips slowly rocked against Shuntaro's hips, "Kiss me", you ordered through gritted teeth.

“How do you say?”, teased Chishiya, grinning.

“Now, you fucking piece of shit.”

Chishiya laughed and just accepted, how could he say no to that cutie? He let go of your neck, he had choked you enough (for now), the action made you whimper softly, "How cute."

“Shut up, Chishiya", you ordered angrily.

“Make me”, he teased once again.

“I still will punch you until you pass out…”

The older one laughed and the kiss resumed. Chishiya's hand was still on your neck, without squeezing, just caressing the skin with his thumb, it went down your chest, squeezing your breasts.

"Cute", Chishiya said when you moaned as your nipples were pinched over your shirt.

"Fuck you."

"You should be ashamed of yourself for rubbing that pussy on my lap and acting like you're better than me."

"Ah… but I am…"

The blonde smirked, "Fucking bitch."

Your shirt was taken off and Chishiya started sucking your nipples gently, not doing too much, not doing everything you wanted. He was doing it on purpose, he wanted to piss you off and he was succeeding. You wanted more, you wanted to be pinched and squeezed, but nothing came, making you groan.

“I hate you so much", you complained.

“Why?”, Chishiya was a bastard.

“I have little patience.”

The older one chuckled, "Then feel free to take control, baby girl."

You rolled your eyes and pushed him onto the bed. You leaned over to the night stand and picked up a joint and lighter from the top of it, putting the blunt in your mouth.

"Are you really going to smoke? Marijuana? With me here under you?", complained Chishiya pretending to be angry, "I'm going to call the police."

"Don't you ever shut up?", you asked, lighting your cigarette.

Chishiya laughed, he was enjoying making you angry, it was so funny. The fun ended when you sat on the other's legs and started to smoke, it wasn't fun anymore it was just hot.

"Do you want some?", you asked, showing the joint in your hands, noticing that he was very entertained watching you smoke.

Chishiya nodded, you took the joint to your lips again and smoked it taking your hand to his chin, he parted his lips waiting for what you would do. You blew the smoke to the blonde's lips and kissed him, brushing your tongue gently against his.

If it was up to Shuntaro, they would do that for hours. You repeated your act a few more times, smoking and sharing it with the older one with kisses.

"Fuck", cursed Chishiya softly making you laugh.

You returned the two objects to the bedside table and adjusted yourself, hugging Chishiya's neck, kissing him again, the kiss was less nervous now, but that didn't stop you from scratching the other's chest with your nails, being careful not to scratching at the cutted areas, making him moan softly as they kissed.

With a peck, you broke the kiss and pushed the blonde's body back onto the bed, running kisses down his chest, biting the skin from time to time, always being careful with the cuts, but always licking the bruises, because you loved to hear his adorable whimpers. With Chishiya's skin between your teeth, you proceeded to unfasten his belt, making him sigh in anticipation.

"I like you like this… quiet", you commented, licking where you had bitten, eliciting a low whine from him, "It suits you, Shuntaro."

"Fuck…", was the only thing he managed to say when your hand tightened on his cock over his pants.

"How cute", you smiled, "Is your cock so hard because of your enemy, Chishiya?", you laughed at the snort the older one let out, squeezing his still covered cock, "How do you explain that to your friends?"

"Go fuck yourself."

You adjusted yourself over Chishiya's body and took off his jeans, leaving him only in black underwear. Your beautiful lips wrapped around the man's cock over the cloth and licked, eliciting a breathless groan from him.

"Fucking shit", Chishiya cursed, throwing his head back, shuddering when the hot mouth wrapped around the head of his cock covered by the cloth, "Baby girl… don't do that…", he asked softly, looking down at you who was staring at him from under you lashes. Chishiya had dark eyes, the unreadable expression and the bruises on his face, it was all so sensual. Your tongue flattened against his cock, saliva marked the cloth leaving it glistening against the light, pre-cum also marked the tip, "Shit. You have to… you have…", he couldn't talk with you licking him like that, you could feel his blood boil as you felt the pulse against your tongue, so hard and fast.

"If I give you a proper blowjob, will you shut the fuck up?", you asked with an expression of boredom.

"I do not promise anything."

And Chishiya laughed when you rolled your eyes. You could complain, but you were too horny to be against what was going on, so you just removed Shuntaro's underwear and slid your hands down his thighs, his hard cock pulsing gently against his beautiful abdomen. You lay back down, taking his cock in your hands, making him sigh.

You licked the length of the thick cock and moaned softly feeling the pulse directly against your tongue. Chishiya purred and laid his head on the pillows, bringing his hand to your hair, stroking and squeezing the strands tightly as his cock sank completely into your mouth.

Your head began to slowly rise and fall, the rhythm gradually increasing as the other's moans became more desperate.

"Fuck, kitten", moaned Chishiya, he called you that to annoy you, but now it was exciting and you hated it.

One of his hands was in your hair, tightening the strands in his fists, and the other held his cock, helping you to swallow it.

The moan that came out of Chishiya's lips made your eyes roll back in pure pleasure. You moved your head up and down, he could feel saliva sliding down his cock to his thighs. He moaned louder as your delicate hands caressed his balls.

"Shit", growled Chishiya softly, stopping your movements, panting heavily, "Lie down on the bed now… go, come on", he ordered impatiently.

You did as asked, laying down on the bed. Chishiya got on top of you and lay down between your legs, "I should just fuck your pussy and leave, but I can't resist a pretty little pussy like that, all wet and just for me."

And Chishiya began to undress you quickly and began to suck you off, making you moan loudly, making you squirm. The fucker knew what he was doing, he seemed to know how your body worked, he licked just the right place and made the biggest mess, his mouth completely covered with your pleasure.

"Shut the fuck up", Chishiya swore, "The whole building will know you're being eaten."

"Shhh", you silenced, grabbing his long blonde hair and forcing him to go back to licking you, "use your mouth for something worthwhile."

Chishiya laughed, "Slut", his strong hand covered your mouth with ease, "I should gag you, but look how beautiful you look with my hand like that…", his other free hand went to your neck and caressed it gently, fingers enveloped in skin, "So pretty at my mercy, you should think about being like this more often."

"Shut the fuck up", you commanded in a voice muffled by the big hand on your mouth.

Chishiya laughed, taking his hand away from your mouth, "Unbearable bitch", he whispered.

The blonde tightened your neck and went back to eating you out, he thought it would be better to choke you than cover your mouth for now, it made your moans more sly and he liked that.

“Chishiya", you whimpered, rolling your hips, not really wanting to sound that desperate.

And that drew a wry chuckle from him, "Moaning like that? Because of the enemy, princess? What are you going to tell your friends?"

“Shh”, you hushed again, your hands going to the blonde hair and you forced it down once more.

Chishiya laughed and accepted, he ran his tongue up and down the wet pussy, sucking the clit and sank his skillful fingers inside you, loosening you. You moaned softly, your fingers caressed his hair gently, it wasn't your intention, but it felt so good that you thought Shuntaro deserved a reward. The older man's hand didn't stop its back and forth movements, opening you for him.

Chishiya pulled away, brought his thumb to your clit and stroked in circular motions, “I need to fuck you.”

"Please."

It was the first time that had been said that night and it was said so delicately.

Wasting no time, Chishiya grabbed you around the waist and flipped you over on the bed, lifting your hips, leaving you completely exposed for his own benefit.

"What a nice little pussy", said the blonde, observing your wet pussy, spreading your lips with his fingers, "It's already all loose."

“Don't you shut up-”, your sentence was cut off when he spanked your ass.

“What were you going to say, kitten?”, asked the older one ironically, giving you another slap.

You whimpered, “Just fuck me, Shuntaro.”

“Of course, all for you, my sweetie.”

“If I wasn't so horny, I swear I would-”, and a long moan left your lips as Chishiya thrust his cock inside you hard, without giving you time to adjust.

"You swear what, baby?", he asked, his face leaning over your.

"I swear I'd kill you right now, Shuntaro", you stated clutching the sheets as your pussy was fucked mercilessly.

"I think it's funny that you think you could kill me", Chishiya whispered, biting your earlobe.

Chishiya held your waist, thrusting hard, but the pace was still too slow for your liking, "Faster, you motherfucker."

"Of course…"

And he obeyed such a crude request, starting to speed up his movements. Your moans started to get louder and louder, you were too lost in your own pleasure to control yourself.

It wasn't so loud that it would disturb the neighbors in the apartments next door, but Chishiya still chuckled softly and put his hand over your mouth.

"You'll wake up the whole building like that", he warned softly, continuing to thrust.

You just whimpered and grabbed the sheets as you were harshly fucked. Chishiya's hand gripped your hip tightly, squeezing the skin in his fingers, you were sure it would get purple.

"You're so hot", growled the man softly, his lips close to your ear, you shivered with those words, "I think that me talking doesn't bother you anymore, huh?", his hand on your waist slid down your skin down to your ass and squeezed the flesh.

"I'm still going to destroy your entire gang and take care of the entire city by myself", you stated.

"Do you think you can do it, baby girl?"

"I already do that, only you pretend to do something and get in my way."

He straightened his posture and took both of your hands, bringing them behind your back, squeezing your wrists into one hand to keep them there. His free hand went back to squeezing your ass and began to slap the skin.

Neither of them had any sense of time anymore, at that moment, they only knew that they were very close to an orgasm and that they hated each other so fucking much.

“Chishiya”, you purred, “I'm going to cum…”

“Me too", Chishiya stated.

“I- AH!”, you were going to say something, however Chishiya's hand that remained resting on your ass, which was already hot and red with the countless spankings, went down to your pussy and started to masturbate you quickly.

You twisted your arms trying to free yourself, but the blonde man was much stronger than you. It didn't take long for a ragged moan to leave your lips and you came on Chishiya's cock.

The older one chuckled softly and pulled out of you, letting go of your wrists. Shuntaro sat on his legs and jerked off briefly, his free hand gripping your ass, squeezing hard as he reached his climax watching his cum fall over the red skin. When he finally came, he lay down beside you and sighed softly.

“You're not going to sleep here”, you said, making the other open his eyes wide.

Chishiya groaned and got up, "I'm not going to sleep in this shitty place", he informed you as he sat down.

You laughed, "If you say so, I could have sworn I saw you dreaming, and dreaming of me still."

“God have mercy on you", he said as he searched for his clothes, “I'm still going to break both your legs.”

“Why don’t you break it now?”

“Because I got beat up and I just came”, the comment made you laugh putting your hand under your head to support it and be able to observe the other, “I'm not in full mental faculties.”

“If you say so", you said as the other dressed, “I guess I'll have to find a new place to live.”

"I would never attack you in your home, but if it makes you feel safe, it's not a bad idea."

“Do you think it would be viable for us to unite?”, you asked, sitting on the bed after a while of silence, Chishiya crossed his arms, “This third gang can't keep thinking we're accepting their presence.”

“If you're willing, I am too”, the blonde was sincere, “It's better to unite against a common enemy, but that's all it will be, after we get what we want, it's each one to one side, correct, kitten?”

“I wouldn't dream of doing otherwise, Shuntaro.”

“Do you have any plans in mind?”

“I have, I can tell it to you later. Could you give me your phone number?”, you asked.

The eldest smirked, “Are you in love now, kitten?”, you rolled your eyes, “Do you want to send nudes on my personal phone?”

"You don't give a minute of peace, how can you compete with me?", you questioned, rubbing your forehead, "It's so we can talk, fucking piece of shit."

"Oh, yes, of course."

You groaned and threw your phone at Chishiya for him to add his contact, and when he were done, he threw the phone back to you, "Fuck you from the bottom of my heart, Chishiya, see you in hell."

“I’ll wait for you there, princess.”

And with that said, Chishiya unlocked the door and left. Leaving you alone and naked in your bed.

...

i hope you liked it!

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tags: @just-trashs @alisujelly

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see ya next time.

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♡masterlist♡

[lilhealthybean]

Daisy

"Aren't they as gorgeous as you?"

tags: jjk, yuji itadori

notes: angst, ik im terrible since jjk universe has already lot of angst. what can i say? im a hoe for this shit.

The pink-haired boy walked through the corridors until he reached the room where his friends and teacher were relaxing.

"Yuji! You finally decided to show up! We thought were not going to see you today since yesterday you returned late" exclaimed Gojo as he stood up from the couch to approach the teenager "Are you okay?"

Yuji's last mission didn't end up well. Despite successfully exorcising the curse, there were some sacrifices made. As a result, Yuji stayed in his bedroom for three days until he felt recovered.

"Yes, I'm okay Gojo-sensei" he smiled as usually, trying to conceal the fact he was not feeling okay.

That last mission really took a toll on him.

"You still have the rest of the month off, so take it easy" Satoru added, tousling his student's hair.

Yuji nodded, focusing his gaze on the floor

"I was planning on visiting y/n" he confessed.

It wasn't a request for permission, Yuji was going to do it.

"Tell y/n I said hi" Megumi said with a soft smile to his friend "If you need anything, just call"

With that, Yuji continued his walk, leaving the Tokyo sorcery school behind. He felt a knot in his stomach; Yuji had been visiting you since he recovered, feeling guilty of your condition.

He followed the routine he had been following for the past two weeks. He passed by the convenience store were you used to buy snacks together. He walked by the arcade where he spent all his money just to get you the plushie you wanted. He walked by the bench you two had your first kiss. He stopped by the florist to buy you yours favorite flowers, daisies. He continued his walk towards the bridge where he confessed his feelings to you, and you accepted him. His heartbeat always increased when he recalled the last memory.

"I can't wait to see you" he said in a low voice as he held the daisies in his hand.

He began walking towards where you were, reminiscing about all the wonderfull memories he had shared with you. It still felt unreal for him that you had accepted his feelings. Yuji considered you the most genuine person and the one he loved being with the most.

The moon was already arising on the sky, urging Yuji to hurry as he really wanted to see you. Five minutes after, he was there, by your side. Carefuly he placed the daisies he had bought for you in a plastic vase.

"Hi honey, hope I didn't kept you waiting too long. I said I would be here at 5 pm, but I got distracted. Anyway, I brought you daisies, your favorites. Aren't they as gorgeous as you?" Yuji admited with a big smile as he showed the vase held in his hands "Oh! By the way, Megumi sends you greetings"

However, he knew that smile wasn't genuine. After the mission, no smile he made was genuine. His vision started to blur due to the tears that were threatening to fall, but he held them back. Yuji didn't want you to see him like that since he swear it to you.

He sat on the ground, trying to compose himself. Attempting to stay calm by taking deep breaths to ease his mind, but it didn't work. Before he even realized it, he was sobbing uncontrollably. Yuji left the vase with the flowers on the floor to wipe his tears. Ten minutes passed until Yuji had no tears more left to cry, grateful that there was no one else to see him in that vulnerable state except for you.

"Sorry... I promised you I wouldn't cry..." the pink-haired boy whispered as he got up "Tomorrow I will come again, don't worry. Wait for me, okay?"

Yuji left the flowers by your side and stared at them.

"I really hope you are in the daisy fields you have always craved for"

And just like the past two weeks, he departed from your grave, filled with sorrow and feeling heartbroken.

[danhengist]

―𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝.

CW; Smut, grinding, hair-pulling, cunnilingus, established relationships, pegging/strapping, dacryphilia, collaring, spanking, Dom!reader, sub!characters, edging, petplay, oral kink, sex toys, vaginal penetration, spanking. Fem!reader. Reo and chigiri being super babygirl. Nagi Being semi-babygirl. Slight humour in Nagi's part.

―[Isagi, reo, chigiri, nagi, barou, bachira, rensuke.]

· ·  · ➪ Being married to the blue lock boys is no easy feature, after a slip-up on they're behalf you finally cave to your anger and decide to teach them a lesson.

ISAGI who is begged to stop practicing 24/7 and spend some quality time with you. Your so passive and gentle when you ask for a moment of his time. So, when he tells you that he'll be out late, practicing with bachira; you snap. Because of his headstrong inability to notice that he was neglecting you; he found himself reaping karma when you refused to touch him, instead you took your place in a chair that conveniently sat next to the bed ― "Touch yourself, if you want my forgiveness." You said, with a straight face. It shocked Isagi, but he loved his dearly wedded wife so much, he actually considered it.

ISAGI who gives in to your wishes and decides to touch his cock while you watch, sternly. You keep a strict gaze on his hand, watching the way he'd clumsily guide it up and down his length, you can't help the giggle of mock you let out, the boy can't even masturbate correctly. Seriously, what would he do without you?

You keep silent, listening to the way Isagi whines sadly, when he realizes that playing with his cock without your aid isn't feeling nearly as good as when you do it, he turns to look at you with a pleading face, begging for your help. You can't really deny that face, so with a sigh, you get up and step over to help him.

REO is so sweet and such a good husband but can also be so oblivious to when he hurts or annoys you. You wanted to spend a afternoon with him out and about, but he thought it would be a good idea to invite Nagi. The date was so irritable, the entire time he mainly spoke to Nagi about miscellaneous topics. You, admittedly already don't like Nagi. You've never told Reo that you don't enjoy Nagi's presence. So when you punish him by pinning him down and fucking him with your strap, he's completely confused :(

REO who can't handle how deep your strap reaches inside of him, digging into his hole so deliciously that he can't help the few pitiful tears he shed from how good he feels. He's overwhelmed, the only time you fuck him with a strap is when he's messed something up ― He wants to think back to see what it is he did wrong, but the way your strap is sliding so deeply against his sensitive walls has his brain short-circuiting, His back arching at how good you feel inside him. He's so dizzy and helpless in this position, and when he feels you lay a rough slap against him from behind, once, twice, thrice― it sends him weeping out apologies―"I'm sorry, m'sorry, m'sorry it won't happen again." He babbled mindlessly at the sudden quicker, rougher thrusts of your hips. "No, please, I don't wanna cum yet!―" with no time to prepare, his weeping cock is twitching and spasming as he pitifully covers the sheets with ropes of cum. Eliciting the prettiest noises. Maybe you should do it again, for good measure?

CHIGIRI has such a pretty princess act. He thinks that simply because he has pretty privilege, he can get away with anything. He always ask you for such mundane things. Add petals to his bathwater, organize his hair products by color, go to the store and buy him a new set of hair scrunchies. It wasn't long before you snapped and he found himself ― similar to Reo ― Being fucked by your strap. The tip of your silicone cock pushing deeply into his walls, eliciting a pretty whine from his lips, fluttering his eyelashes euphorically at how perfectly you managed to squeeze inside of him.

CHIGIRI who gets fucked dumb by your strap, 2 minutes in and he's already gasping and whining like some sort of slutty prostitute, he feels so fucking messy and it causes a masochistic wave to bubble up through his tummy. The raw connection of your hips as you ruthlessly slide your huge cock into him, every brutal thrust into his inexperienced little hole caused him to let out weepy moans, and right when he's about to cum, you grab a tuff of his hair and yanking it back as you stuff your cock as deep as it could fit; eliciting a loud cry, cumming spewing from his cock as he finally reached his orgasm.

NAGI can be such a lazy person. Your always stuck doing the chores. Cleaning the living room, washing the dishes, bathing the dog, feeding the cat, scrubbing the inside of the walls, battling the spider in the corner of the bathroom, then making dinner as the cherry on top. One day, you tell him that you're heading to the grocery store and then proceed to beg, beg that he'll do the one chore you left for him ― taking out the trash. The garbage is right outside, in front of the house. Your gone for 2 hours, and when you come back with a grain of hope, your absolutely livid when the trash has not been emptied.

Nagi doesn't expect the way you explode. He doesn't expect to be taken by surprise and he definitely doesn't know how it got here; Him, bound with right ropes, and laid on his back. Brutally tortured when you decide to edge him with a vibrator.

NAGI who is gasping and squirming at how desperately he wants to cum, a small vibrator pushed against the tip of his twitching cock, his eyes flickering over to you. He wants to cum, but you refuse to let him do so, instead pushing the vibrator against his dick and repeatedly pulling away whenever you saw any signs of him being close to a orgasm, this goes on for 12 straight minutes and he's on the verge of spilling tears ― "Fuck, please just let me cum― if you let me cum I'll take the trash out." He whined. Liar. The sheer audacity he has to lie to you, only makes you angrier.

BAROU is such an annoying jerk sometimes. He could be so ruthless whenever he spoke his mind, perhaps he was insensible to realize that his words often effected you. For the most part you let it slide, until one day he says something along the lines of "Yeah right, a pretty little flower like you, dominating me? That's cute." You felt so offended by the his words, you wanted nothing more than to prove him wrong; and judging by the way your currently grinding your sloppy cunt against his face ― you've managed to do exactly that.

BAROU who is laid beneath you while you sloppily ride his face, groaning deeply at the way your cunt taste, messily drooling your juices all over his face, as he used his warm tongue to lick up every drop of your slick. He's never seen you so irritable, so dominating ― He finds it so fuckin' hot, he could overpower you easily but the problem is that he doesn't want to―especially if it means he's practically forced to suffocate between your legs buried inside of your perfect pussy. only a king deserves a death as a good as this one, right?

BACHIRA who is so sly and mischievous that he actually predicted and hoped that you'd break from his constant annoyance. He purposely would neglect you to spend time with Isagi, not because he didn't love you, he did. ― but actually to see your nice and slow-to-anger facade break. And when he does, he's absolutely exhilarated. It only makes him even happier when you dominate him, he's biting his lip and trembling when you strip him down of all his clothes and even more elated when you force him to wear a collar with leash in hand.

BACHIRA is absolutely beyond delighted when he finds himself sitting back against the living room couch; collared, tightly bound and forced to wear a little vibrator against the tip of his hardened dick ― He's so desperate for an orgasm, but you refuse to give him one, everytime he's tolling off the edge of such a good orgasm, you click the off button, leaving him high and dry. Half of him wants to cum so badly but the other half wants to be edged farther until there are pretty little tears slipping from his rusty golden eyes. "You wanna cum, baby?" You coo'd, yanking the leash of the collar he wore in a intention to mock him. a cruel and satisfied grin carving into your features when he nods his head, frantically."Please, Please let me cum, I'll behave―" Bachira promised in such a shaky tone that you instantly knew you won.

RENSUKE who actually didn't do anything wrong. You've just chosen to be a meanie because you can. He's already tired from Training for hours with his team ― then he comes home to you pushing him down against the bed, before he can even register anything, he's hissing in surprise at the way your slicked cunt takes him in one go."Fuck, wait― let me get my shoes off―" He says it in such a whiny and breathless way, that you can't help but rock against him, grinding yourself against his dick so perfectly. He grabs your thighs in hopes to get control of the situation but with how delicious and tight you feel, he partly doesn't want to and he gets what he wants when you begun to ride him ― the way your warmth envelopes him puts a strain on his self-control.

RENSUKE who is gripping onto your waist while you ride him, almost as if he's afraid you'll stop. "baby, I need to shower first― I'm sweaty." He breathlessly confirms yet doing nothing to convince you to stop or even slow down the way you roll your hips against his. What could've possibly happened while he was gone that would trigger such a reaction, that would cause you to practically pounce onto him. "I love you so much." Is all you can reply with, he can't deny that the love is definitely there.

He can't help the way he twitches when your wet and sticky walls suddenly tighten around him, he can't help the gasp that he let's out and when your hips speed up― he can't help but cum, releasing his sticky fluids deeply inside of your aching pussy.

Xyhoo·  ·  ·  · ✦ ― please do not copy, translate, modify or repost any of my work on any platform, or claim any of it as your own. 03/04/2023 - 5:11 pm.

Tags: @kittykittycore @the-pyro-archon @shoyoist

[a-twistedheartslonging]

(I haven’t read through the whole tag)

(It’s long sorry)

So for the nonhuman au I was imagining maybe a few hundred to few thousand human lineage individuals in each country (that has high numbers of population)

But lineage doesn’t mean full pure human like the prefect so out of those only a few can be considered ‘just human’

Most with that claim just tend to be ‘less’ beastly or have an easier time ignoring instincts or don’t need to do some things, it’s just that having human blood is very convenient by societal and some cultural standards.

Maybe these advantages tend to lend to some famous or influential figures being known for having human blood with some being ‘fully’ human.

Despite physical limitations of humans the lack of certain instincts, good reproductive ability, adaptability and being able to crossbreed fairly well give them a default higher social status.

So having human-adjacent individuals who may not experience heat/rut, hibernation, brumation, shedding, etc to the same level or at all is useful and would be wanted in most fields they enter.

So having a human who has no past ancestry of nonhuman individuals is pretty rare and limited to hoity toity holier than thou families “I can trace my lineage back ten generations!” Kind of people who pretty much don’t work under others.

So the Prefect is still a rarity but there are other humans they can interact with.

And with the whole “I am a PURE human!” Bs that those families can do we can add in a little scenario where Crowley gets bribed into letting these people in only to find out that they’re here to demand for us to marry them.

Cue the entirety of NRC going ballistic.

Bonus points if one of them go to RSA or are an alumni to cause our boys to go even crazier.

Pff there's a lot of random shit in there so I don't blame you for not going too far in the tags. No need to be sorry for sending long stuff ether, I love reading what people send.

Anyway-

Wow this is actually really interesting and gives me something to think about. It would make sense for there to be some benefits to the mix breeding, but I didn't even think about that.

It really sucks how easy it would be to bribe Crowley and now I'm thinking about a beasty twst boy getting growly around other humans since he thinks they'll try taking his mate.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Disclaimer: I do not mean to throw the blame on anyone, I'm just curious. Sorry Cay-cay for throwing you under the bus.

Anyway, Miss Raven, according to you, why didn't Cater do anything (or if he DID do anything, why didn't it work) about the Riddle situation during the latter's freshman year? I mean, Cater was rooming with Trey during that time, he probably knew some bits beforehand...

I think there’s a lot of different angles this question could be tackled from 🤔 However, the most all-encompassing explanation for me comes down to who Cater is at the core of his character. Simply put, he’s just not the kind of guy who likes to get into the heat of things or directly intervene. (Even if he was, do you really think Riddle would listen to him when Riddle didn’t even listen to his right-hand man and childhood bestie Trey, who has tried multiple times to smooth things out on behalf of the whole dorm?)

As early as our first formal introduction to him in book 1, Cater’s constantly trying to trick others into resolving tasks and conflicts for him. He gets Adeuce to help out with painting the roses, and does the same to mob students when it comes to unbirthday party prep in his Dorm Uniform vignettes. There are other instances of Cater being slick too: he slyly suggests that Trey uses his unique magic to change the flavor of the chestnut tarts they make (which would save Cater the trouble of wolfing down something sweet, which he dislikes). In Happy Beans Day, Cater lets Deuce take the fall for him and distract the monsters while he claims the supplies from a crate. These are just a few of many examples of Cater having others "do his dirty work".

There are, of course, times when Cater does step up. However, it's typically done reluctantly, under duress (like, he has no other option/the situation is too dangerous for him NOT to step up), and/or in the face of peer pressure. For example, Cater is the only one of the Heartslabyul group that does not initially want to fight against OB Riddle; Cater just stands off to the side and warns everyone about how they stand no chance. He only joins in when Trey, Ace, Deuce, and even Grim pitch into the fight (and even when he decides to help out, Cater still has a line where he emphasizes that he definitely didn't sign up for this). Even as recently as Stage in Playful Land, Cater is surprised that his classmates want to stay in the park and beat up Fellow Honest for deceiving them rather than have escape as a priority. He makes a comment about how everyone wants to do one thing (which is also implied to be the thing Cater doesn't want to do), so they all have to come to a decision as a group on how to proceed. In the end, he ends up agreeing to stay and get revenge since that's what the group wants. Put like this, Cater's more of a follower and not much of a leader--but he intervenes when it's convenient for him.

Now with that being said, it could be argued that if many Heartslabyul students were complaining about Riddle's rule, why wouldn't Cater also hop on that bandwagon if he's supposedly such a people pleaser?? Well, I'd wager it might be because Cater values his self-preservation more. Considering past behaviors, Cater has demonstrated time and time again that he's willing to throw others under the bus (usually his juniors or whoever else he has to) so long as he can walk away scot-free or doing less work. It's just something that's easy to overlook because Cater isn't the type to pull it off in a scummy way, he's still smiling and friendly as he's duping you. (It’s also worth nothing that the Heartslabyul students themselves were probably tolerating Riddle’s rule better a year ago than a year into it, especially since we see Riddle getting worse over the course of book 1. Maybe the problem just wasn’t “as bad” or people had more patience for it back then.)

Another thing to consider is his position, which I'm sure Cater is cognizant of considering how socially aware he is. He may be a third year, but he's also just... a regular student. He doesn't hold any power over Riddle, nor does he have an intimate bond with Riddle which would incline him to getting involved with him and testing his temper. Cater has seen what happens to the people that defy him, and he's not willing to stick his neck out for them and potentially have the same happen to him. There's no personal stakes or responsibility on his part (unlike Trey).

Cater is defaulting to his usual strategy of letting others try to fix things for him (we see him asking Trey to do something/to talk to Riddle instead of Cater confronting Riddle himself). That’s just how he chooses to tackle issues; there's nothing wrong with that kind of problem-solving if it works for him. If I had to liken it to social media (since that’s Cater’s communication method of choice), it feels like vagueposting or subtweeting instead of tagging or outright naming the person you have beef with in public.

That’s how I interpret it, anyway 🤷‍♀️ It’s by no means the definitive answer!