#like. i dont think he can really help that his brain is working against him after 7 months of hell

[handsometheo]

You've gotta hear me out on Ithaqua getting a little too possessive towards his survivor partner during a match ! Love your works btw <3

Mmmmmm Possessive Ithaqua 😍

Warnings: You'll never guess this one but Possessive behaviours

Pairing: Possessive! Ithaqua x Gn! Reader

--------

- He isn't sure what caused it. Maybe it's his own instincts telling him he needs to protect you, or maybe the manor is affecting him somehow..

- Your Team is quite possible the worst concotion of players to have paired with you. The Prospector, the cowboy and the "prisoner". He's semi-alright with Luca, he doesn't really do much harm. Its more a case of him being annoying to deal with on a good day.

- However Kevin and Norton strike Ithaqua the wrong way.

- He immediately finds Norton but instead turns his attention to finding you, just to make sure you stay away from them.

- He finds you. Quite easily actually. He comes across you helping Luca to decode who quickly runs off in favour of saving himself. Smart man, Ithaqua has to applaud him for using that mildly malfunctioning brain of his. He does have to break the connection, if only to delay your guaranteed escape.

- He lets you finish the cipher and simply stands around impatiently huffing and puffing to the side like a bratty child not getting enough attention. And that's accurate to a certain degree.

- once the cipher is done he tells you to go into a locker so he can pick you up and take you with him. You think nothing of it as this is fairly normal behaviour he likes to carry you around you've noticed. His little giggle when he picks you up just melted your heart.

- However. Unlike the usual routine, Ithaqua takes you to the nearest corner of the map and places you there before trapping you within his arms. His cloak making the two of you practically disappear, well.. you know as much as one can with the terror radius thing..

- His eyes are animalistic and his jaw clenched, but he makes no move to act on whatever violent act is forming in his head. Just pulls you to him as though he is trying to mesh with you.

- of course, he was mostly..., kind of, calm.

-Until the two idiots turned up. And by that I mean Norton and Kevin.

-Kevin lassoed you from Ithaqua's grasp, that alone made him screeched out in rage, but just to add some extra sourness to the situation, a magnet gets thrown towards him. Forcing him back into the wall.

- You struggle your way out of Kevins hold and push him away right as Ithaqua dashes at him. Norton quickly runs off to possibly hide in case he needs to really save, or possibly help Luca to continue saving.

- "IDIOTS, BOTH OF YOU!" You yell out to nobody in particular as Kevin had already run off. Ithaqua stays still for a moment, left eye twitching.

- He turns quickly. "Stay." He commands as though you are a dog awaiting your next trick. You're going to stay near, obviously, just maybe that Cipher off to the left will somehow get finished off...

- He dashes away in the direction Kevin left.

- As you're decoding, the prospector returns around the corner.

"Hey."

"Fuck off. That was stupid and you know it."

"Yeaaah.. but got the reaction I wanted. He's a tad bit, whats the word, protective? No. Possessive. Thats the one! Like he owns you."

"If he ever got asked if he owned me he definitely would answer like that.. It's a bit much at times, maybe next time to come running up to try and save when he's clearly not going to chair me. Luckily he seems to have lost Kevin."

The last Cipher gets completed by you and Norton but just before you can run to the exit, Norton says something that irks you.

"Geez, I didn't ask for your life story.. no need to keep going on..."

Yoou dont even initially intend to do it but you're hand reaches out to slam his head against the nearest wall to temporarily stun him.

"Not so fun now is it.."

In the distance a pissed off roar can be heard from Ithaqua, who you can assume just missed hitting the now escaped Kevin and Luca.

"Now, we're gonna surrender." You tell the prospector sternly

"Why would I do tha-"

You grab his ear and stare at him, "Consider it your apology to Itha. Believe me Kevin's going to deal with far worse."

Quiet grumbles are all that are heard from the disgruntled ex-miner.

----

Hope you enjoyed :) I partially forgot what I was writing halfway through but I loved writing this ♡

[upsidedowngrass]

whenever ppl genuinely think liams stupid i lay face down on dirt and cry for 200 years

[riaki]

ur highschool bully gojo was chefs kiss 💋 what do u think about them going to the same college and taking the same classes?? and the reader sitting next/talking to some other guy and satoru gets jealous?? arwahhhshdhshshs so many possibilities, i hope u continue writing it!!

hi nonnie !! thank you so much :) this is ur official part 2 ! i was struggling to think up some possibilities but this helped a lot :oo | read part 1 here ! -> cw: swearing, jealousy, i let it get fic length oops

(former) highschoolbully!gojo on the brain again… like. when you end up seeing him again however many months later, and you can tell that he’s changed. it’s not like its immediately obvious to anyone who doesn’t really know him like you (used to); but he’s a little softer-spoken and his smiles seem nine times more genuine. it’s not a hundred percent; the kind that really lights up his face instead of just barely falling short of his stark blue eyes, but it's something.

of course, you have nothing to base it off of, because when you do inevitably see him again it's the very definition of meet ugly.

college is a new frontier, but its also a clean slate. its your first time going into something so new without your old bestfriend at your side, but some faint flickering thought reminds you that it might be better that way. but the universe is against you from the very first day, when youre gettin yourself some coffee from the same chain you did the morning of that fateful presentation so many moons ago. you're too busy thinking to yourself what kind of strange parting ritual it is to relive your trauma to notice the lanky, white-haired boy who hits his head on the chiming bell over the doorway. people are giggling around you n sighing dreamily but youre too deep in the music pumping through your headphones to notice and your eyes are glued to the class schedule on your phone, trying to ensure you dont get lost on the first day when—

you blink and your ass is flat on the dirty floor of the coffee shop, and the first thing you register is that your stomach is soaked and burning. you'd spilled your coffee. it takes you a moment to realize, but when you do you're pissed. so you quickly get to your feet, trying to reign in what little of your ego you have left to give the offender who bumped into you a piece of your mind as you look up, then..

how unlucky do you have to be?

just like that, satoru's slid himself back into your life, after ramming through its locked gates. you forget that he always forgets the point of keys, both when it comes to his apartment (which you still have the spare key of in case of emergencies), and the door to your heart. to rub salt in the wound, the only thing that's stained with your coffee order are his shoes, which look like they cost three weeks of your old job salary, but it's all over your shirt. of course it is. because why not? make it look like you tripped and fell into a patch of mud on your way to the lecture hall and tack on an unwelcome reunion with your ex-bestfriend.

to you, it's like the cloud of gloom from your highschool youth has resettled over your head like a swarm of gnats on a dreary, hot summer day. the stars always seem to skew and misalign themselves for you. but for satoru, the stars have handed him one of those huge swirly lollipops that you only ever see being paraded about by toddlers. he recovers almost instantly, trading the burn on his feet and the way it sours your expression like he's just squirted pure citric acid into your throat for a pleasant burn of his own on his cheeks. but it's whatever. girls seem to like it when he blushes, for some reason. he won't question it, if it works on the only one he cares about.

he holds his hand out, ready to help you out like the good samaritan he's become— and it's like a real burn to his heart this time when you ignore it and stand up on your own, refusing to look up and meet his pleading gaze. might as well have taken an iron stoker right out of the fire and jabbed him with it. but he's gojo satoru! he won't be defeated by this one mere, maybe very significant reunion. he's got stamina.

so he offers to buy you a new drink, feels his heart sink when you shake your head (can't even spare a little 'no' in his direction), and talks enough for the both of you when you leave the dingy little store make your way down to campus and the lecture building. you clearly don't want to see him, but he ignores that in exchange to notice the way you shiver every so often. the previously searing-hot coffee that stains your shirt turns cold fast, and moisture n wind don't mix well. he wishes he could offer you some of his own warm coffee, no doubt sickeningly sweet, but he has some sensitivity now, apparently. so, in a brash moment, he decides to take his blazer off and drape it over your shoulders instead.

when you cross the threshold between city and campus, you expect him to yank it off your back and be on his merry way. but he keeps walking next to you, so you walk a little faster, and you absolutely loathe the cheeky little grin that curves the corners of his lips up to show a glint of teeth when he effortlessly keeps up. you curse his long legs when you find yourself winded, but at least you can lose him when you get there.

or, that's what you think. once again, your constellations break themselves to rebuild anew for satoru. you're about to call him a stalker when he follows you all the way to your classroom with that smirk that's growing exponentially until— oh, no.

your phone that's been on the schedule up until now desperately scrolls to the roster— and there it is. he's in your class. needless to say, not another word goes between you as you stomp in and take a seat. luckily for you, you've already corresponded with your roommate's brother (who's annoyingly cute, satoru notices) and agreed to sit next to each other. satoru takes the seat right above you and never stops kicking his freakishly long legs against the wood the entire time.

so yeah, it's obvious he's not a saint; he still has that undoable ego and he's cocky as fuck (as you have the misfortune of finding out when he quickly bullies your professor), but there's a certain familiarity in that no matter how ugly it might appear to others. and if you asked (which he really, really hopes you will someday), he doesn't hang around douchebags who use kids' foreheads for ashtrays and treat girls like they're candy from a glittery pez dispenser. and at least he's switched harassment targets. even though he has an overwhelming sense of superiority over others and never has his lips together for more than five seconds, and even though he has this hellish habit of clicking his pen whenever he's not talking (or when someone else is), it seems like he's changed.

and over time, you gradually find yourself warming up to him. the spunkiness that used to get on your nerves ceaselessly becomes an object of endearment, and you don't really mind the way he never seems to stop moving anymore. it's a nice sort of distraction in the lifeless still of the lecture hall, albeit the pen clicking still drives you near insanity. you notice he always does it obnoxiously and quickly when you're talking to your roommate's brother, but you ignore it.

and for satoru? he hates that he can kinda sorta really tell that you're the only one who can read him like he's a damn book, cus you slowly start to soften up in the nostalgia of his presence like cold playdough between warm fingers that tell you he may have finally caught you again after letting you slip the first time. and he notices it. this time, he's determined not to let you be the one that got away again. but youre really giving him a shit time outta it with the way you constantly entertain the guy who always has his breath in your face.

yeah, he's got a cute face that's sunkissed by freckles. yeah, his hair looks like he models for shampoo companies. and fuck, he has a nice voice. but what of it? satoru's the one with the mesmerizing blue irises and the cloudy white hair your professor wishes he had instead of sad little wisps of old age. still, as chilly days turn into frigid weeks, he gets the perfect backseat angle of the growing relationship between the two of you. the boy's kinda dumb so you copy off of satoru’s work when you need to (he has to hide the 1-0 scoreboard between him and the guy on a sticky note from you when you take his notes), but said guy’s always buying you stuff and lending you erasers and laughing when you flick the shavings at the annoying girl who never stops whispering in the front of the room.

satoru tries to act unbothered, and he almost convinces everyone. including himself. but the angry, burning knot in his chest that's entirely different from coffee stains suggests something more. that should be him at your side. him, making balls of paper with rude scribbles and silly doodles to throw at the people he knows you don't like. him, surprising you with little gifts and the cheap trinkets he knows you adore so much instead of all the luxury things he could afford. there's no way this punk could possibly measure up to him, right? but at least you and satoru are well on your way to becoming friends again. not as close as you used to be, but it's something. substantial. and he's learned to be patient in the time you've been gone.

but he'd be lying through his teeth if he said he wasn't tired of it. he’s endlessly plagued with thoughts of increasing intensity— first, it starts out with just you. only you. the way he likes it. the way he likes your face, and your pretty eyes and your gorgeous lips and your soft hair and your figure and the complimenting clothes you wear. but it takes a turn; thoughts turn into dreams that turn into fantasies and he's lying when he says he doesn't enjoy them when he accidentally lets it slip during a group study session— and it’s all fine— but then, that guy appears. the brat who seems to sit a centimeter closer to you with each coming day. not only does he haunt satoru in real life, he’s tormenting his dreams, too. tainting the image of beautiful you.

needless to say, satoru starts to wake up with his hands gripping his damp pillow like he's choking it, acutely aware of the sweat sliding down his neck and over his chest as he stares up at the ceiling, listening to the dorm's air conditioner run and thinking of what it'd be like for dreams (the ones where he replaces the boy) to become reality.

it's a buildup. and soon, he reaches the apex; it's like a rollercoaster, that stomach-twisting moment when you reach the top of the rail that points to the steep descent downward. but this time, he hopes it's a thrill he gets instead of the usual falling fright; the one he got when he realized he’d slipped between your fingers in highschool.

and satoru finally comes to a grinding halt at the top of the ride one breezy fall day when he decides he wants you back in his life after you smile brightly at him and wave goodbye for the day. he’s tired of you having one foot in and one foot out of his heart; he wants, needs more. he always has, he realizes.

so he’s thinking about you and how to approach the feelings he’s realized during those long lectures, and one morning he comes up with some semblance of a plan when he’s high on the sugar from the fruit tea you bought him that morning. and he hopes that, by the end of it, he'll leave your apartment with your hand in his currently empty one, chilled with the remnants of cold condensation from the bottle.

soon enough, satoru finds himself extinguishing his nerves and raising a tense fist to knock on the door with nothing but the clothes on his back and a flimsy plan to ask you out on a midterm study sesh and maybe even a date, but he stops when he realizes it’s slightly ajar. a brief thought of what look might be on your face when he surprises you crosses his mind, so he lets himself in quietly, because he knows every single floorboard that creaks like the back of his palm from his childhood. he’s hit with a wave of warmth and an achingly familiar scent that twists at his heart, and your apartment is cozy and safe and it screams you and he thinks he catches sight of his jacket slung across the back of the couch in your living room, but he’s not sure so he takes a step forward and—

he’s greeted with the sight of that stupid guy with the nice hair and the freckles, and it makes his heart drop. but even worse, he’s kissing you and his arms are winding around your waist but you’re kissing him back with a slight hesitation that’s blinded to satoru by his shock and the fingers he thought would end up in his own tonight card through the boy’s hair and your lips glisten with the strawberry-kiwi flavored gloss he watched the boy give you a few days back and his world is turning red and he feels like his throat is constricting and he can’t breathe—

and he doesn’t even realize you’ve parted lips and you’re calling his name through the newfound tightness of his chest and the painful ringing in his ears thats even louder than any silence of a lecture hall, or the void that should’ve been filled with your voice during the time you were apart. but now satoru realizes he’d take that any fucking chance to have that again because it’s so much better than what he’s stuck with now. having you, but not really having you, because you’re there but you’re someone else’s and you’re not his and he isn’t yours. the best thing he could ever hope for was for you to own an article of his clothing and a piece of his shattered heart, broken into a million fragments. some cruel voice in his buzzing head reminds him to change the scoreboard to 0-100.

and he could buy you cheap hot coffee or earn your smiles from scrunched up paper balls or even hear your laugh with crude jokes, but there’s no point when he realizes he can’t buy you with caffeine or earn you with hitting the back of people’s heads with his bio notes or have you and your laugh all to himself anymore.

it’s almost pathetic, the way satoru’s voice cracks and changes. the look of unadulterated concern on the face of the boy who stole your lips just adds fuel to the fire.

“gojo? what are you doing here— hey, are you okay? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

he noticed you’d stopped calling him satoru a few weeks back. he should’ve seen it coming.

“huh? oh, yeah. i’m good. i think you’re the one hallucinating.”

he’d never told a bigger lie in his life.

satoru had left after excusing himself for intruding. how very unlike him to be so polite, you think.

so in the end, he leaves your apartment with something in his hand, after all. but it's not your own— just his blazer that you’d given back to him before he stepped out the door, taunting him with the faint scent of coffee and lingering perfume. his hope was foolish, so it seems. it’s too bad, he thinks. if it were him, he would’ve sandwiched you against your counter while he kissed. but it wasn’t. apparently, it was your turn for your stars to align at the price of his.

and so, gojo satoru, the boy force-turned man with a chipped ego and a completely broken heart, loses you again.

bonus bonus.. part 2….

[auras-moonstone]

OMG!!! IDK IF YOU'RE TAKING REQUESTS BUT IF YOU ARE CAN YOU DO A NERD!ETHAN X CHEER CAPTAIN!READER. WHERE ETHAN THINKS SHES GOING TO BE REALLY RUDE BUT SHE TURNS OUT TO BE REALLY SWEET?! THEN, THEY TAKE AN INTREST IN EACHOTHER??? YOU DONT HAVE TO BUT IF YOU DO THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH!! AND I LOVEEEEE YOUR WORK!

i have been thinking of doing something like this for a while actually!! hope you like it🤍

i know places — ethan landry

word count: 1,872

pairing: nerd!ethan landry x cheerleader!fem!reader

summary: y/n needs help with her english essay and nerdy ethan offers his help

WHEN ETHAN HEARD HIS NAME BEING CALLED, EVERYTHING STOPPED. It wasn’t the fact that it was literally shouted aloud in the hallway, making everyone’s attention drift towards the person who had yelled it. It was the fact that said person was Y/N Y/L/N—cheer captain and prettiest girl in the school. Why was she saying his name? Actually, how did she even know his name?

Ethan didn’t have time to think, because she was moving towards him like a full on rainstorm and Ethan felt his legs getting weak, as if there were about to fail him. “Ethan!” she said breathlessly from running down the hall.

“H-hi” Ethan replied in a low voice, blood rushing to his face because of the unwanted attention. She was going to say something really hurtful and everyone was going to hear it. Cheerleaders making fun of people like Ethan wasn’t something uncommon, he had experienced it countless of times.

“Shit. I caused a scene, didn’t I? I’m so sorry” she sounded genuine, which made Ethan confused. Where was the insult? “I called your name before you exited the classroom, but you didn’t seem to hear me”. Ethan’s brain seemed to have been failing him because he was not able to utter a single syllable. “Anyways, you left your coat” she showed him the blue cloth that belonged to him with a tiny smile on her face.

He cleared his throat, coming back to his senses “Oh… thank you”

“You’re welcome!” Y/N said with a bright smile. “I’m Y/N, by the way”.

“I’m Ethan” he did an awkward wave, which the cheerleader thought was very adorable.

“Yeah, I know. You sit next to me in English” Y/N let out a little laugh.

The boy laughed nervously “Right, I know, I just thought you wouldn’t remember”

“Well, I remember you, Ethan Landry” she assured him with a smile, making him blush even harder. This reaction brought Y/N a sense of victory, and she decided she enjoyed seeing the boy blush for her “Are you taking the coat or you’re going to keep staring at me?”

“Oh, sorry” he grabbed the coat with shaky hands. That’s when Y/N noticed the piece of paper he was holding and the A+ written in red marker.

“You got an A+ in the Brave new world essay?” she asked surprised.

“Y-yeah” was this the part she was going to mock him? He knew her being nice was too good to be true.

But, once again, she surprised him. “Do you mind if I take a look at it? I didn’t do so well in mine” Y/N asked, feeling a bit embarassed by confessing that.

“Yeah, sure, no problem”

As she read, he took the opportunity to admire her. Y/N’s shiny hair fell flawlessly over her face, creating some kind of curtain. He wanted to tuck it behind her ear, but it would be extremely weird. His eyes then went to her face: her eyes were furrowed as she took in the words written on the paper, and she bit her lip in concentration—Ethan felt the need to brush his finger against it, because that action drove him crazy—and suddenly his heart clenched when he noticed her saddened expression.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked softly.

“I’m not doing so well in English. If I don’t pass the make-up exam, I won’t be able to keep my position as cheer captain”

“You still have a chance, then” he tried to light up her mood.

“Yeah, but if this is what I have to write in order to pass… I’m screwed. I could never write something like this” Y/N sighed in frustration “Your writing is completely amazing, by the way”

“Thanks. I could tutor you, if you want” the words left his mouth before he could think twice.

“Really?”

Her eyes shone with such hope that he couldn’t say anything but, “Yes”.

Y/N wanted to hug him so bad, but she noticed how uncomfortable he was under the gaze of others, and her touching him was only going to make things worse for him. People were already whispering things such us: ‘Why is Y/N talking to that nerd?’ ‘Does he even go here?’ ‘Isn’t he the one who is always answering questions in Econ?’

She resisted the urge to scowl at every single person in the hallway. Why they gotta be so mean? “Thank you so much! When are you available?”.

“Any day, to be honest. But you have cheerleading practice, so you tell me”

He was so considerate and adorable she wanted to cry. “So make-up exam is this friday, meaning we have today, tomorrow and Thursday. Is it okay if we meet those days at 6:30?”

“Yeah, no problem. Can you come over to my dorm? The library is always crowded during exam weeks”

“Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll give you my number so you can text me your address” he handed her his phone and typed her number. “There you go”

“I’ll text you as soon as classes finish”

“Thank you so much, Ethan. You don’t know how thankful I am”

“What if I turn out to be the worst tutor ever?” he joked.

Y/N laughed. “I know you won’t. And even if you were, I’m still very thankful you are spending your free time doing this for me”

He shrugged “It’s my pleasure”

Y/N STARED AT THE RESULT IN COMPLETE SHOCK. Were her eyes deceiving her? Was Mr. Keating pulling a joke on her?

“Excellent work, Mrs. Y/L/N. Your analysis was espectacular and your writing and vocabulary have improved immensely in such short time” Mr. Keating told her.

“Thank you so much!” she exclaimed, grabbing the paper as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

“May I ask, did you have help or did you study on your own?” there was no accusatory tone, just curiosity.

“Ethan helped me, sir. I definitely wouldn’t have passed without him”

“Oh, that’s nice of him. He’s an excellent student and writer”

“The best” Y/N nodded in agreement. “Speaking of him, I should thank him, for the hundredth time in the past three days”

ethan!!!!!! 🥹

i need to talk to you.

okay! see you after school? 👀

no. right now

oh, everything okay?

yes, don’t worry. i know a place we can talk alone

under the bleachers?

sure. see you in 5?

see you! <3

If there was one thing Y/N knew about Ethan before he even started tutoring her was that he was completely terrified of attention. That’s why they never talked at school, only texted (a lot). Both of them became close, and soon tutoring wasn’t the only thing they hung out for. After they were done studying, she would stay for dinner and a movie, and together they shared their opinions on them.

Y/N also found out that, when he wasn’t around students and their gossiping mouths, Ethan was beyond funny and outgoing. And also, while he was adorable and sweet, Y/N discovered that he had a flirty side—which she enjoyed very much and she always let him know that by blushing like a school girl. It was safe to say that the girl had absolutely fallen for the boy’s charm.

And Ethan fell for her charm too. She was kind, talented, beyond smart—which she always said was a lie, but Ethan was always there to contradict her—understanding, and down to earth. He couldn’t believe he once thought Y/N was a mean, popular, spoiled cheerleader. She was beautiful and amazing and he liked her more than he had expected.

“Ethan!” the girl’s voice instantly made his heart start racing. The brunette raised his head from the book he was reading to see the cheerleader running towards him. Next thing he knew, she threw herself at him, and he fell on his back. Thankfully, he had been sitting so it didn’t hurt.

“Hi there!” Ethan laughed, hugging her tightly. He would never get tired of her closeness.

“I did it!” Y/N exclaimed showing her the exam, still lying on top of him.

Ethan smiled proudly “I knew you could do it! Congrats, cheer captain!”

“Thank you” she whispered, voice cracking.

“Hey… what’s wrong?”

“Happy tears. I just can’t believe I did it” she said, smiling widely. “My friends joked about having to look for a new captain, which I knew it wasn’t a joke at all and they were actually concerned. And my parents were also thinking what they were going to say when I went home with the news that I was no longer a cheerleader… but I did it, Ethan!”

“That’s awful, Y/N” he frowned. She deserved so much better “Are you seriously telling me no one had an ounce of faith in you?”

“Well, there is one person who always betted on me. He would never get tired of telling me how smart I was, even when I was constantly saying the opposite” her eyes looked so bright, he wondered if he would ever be able to look away.

“Oh yeah? So he cheers the cheerleader?” he joked, making her laugh.

“Dork” she beeped his nose “Anyways, you want me to tell you about this guy?” Ethan nodded, sitting up. Y/N remained on his lap. “So, I could talk about him for days, but I’m going to keep it simple and tell you my favorite things about him. First of all, he has the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen and I swear I could stare at them forever. He’s very passionate about movies, and his little rants about them are the best thing I’ve ever heard. He gives the best hugs in the world, but then again I might be a little biased because I just love being in his arms”

“You do?” he looked up at her in awe.

“I do” she affirmed. “He’s the only one who sees me as more than just a popular cheerleader. He’s sweet and sincere. He blushes a lot when I compliment him, just like you’re doing right now” she teased. “His smile… holy shit, it makes me forget about everything. Especially when they are directed at me”.

“He sounds handsome and amazing” he joked.

“Oh, he is. And that is why I like him so much” Y/N finally confessed.

Ethan’s jaw almost reached the floor. “You like him?”

“So much it’s physically hurting” she said, fixing the collar of his shirt.

“He likes you too” Ethan cupped her jaw.

“Then he should kiss me”

So he did, and he didn’t care anymore if anyone saw them. Their lips fitted perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle that went together, and nothing had ever felt so right for them.

“I want to be with you, Eth. I know you don’t want people to whisper about you, and I’m afraid if you are with me it’s going to be inevitable. But I want you to be my boyfriend, I don’t care if we have to keep this a secret”

Ethan shook his head “No. No secrets. I want to hold your hand in plain sight, I want to kiss you. Let them say what they won’t, I won’t hear them”

Y/N smiled and went in for another kiss. “Let’s go now. I want to show them I have the most amazing boyfriend in the world”

[poisonedprose]

₊˚✧ happy trail — in which leon's happy trail drives you wild

leon kennedy x afab!reader

warnings: 0.9k words, smut, inspired by @ouchvns !! (this post), established relationship, pet names (baby, princess), curse words, oral (m), unprotected sex, p in v, soft dom!leon, slight degrading, choking (f), slight biting kink, (m having, f recieving), i dont caare how innactuate this is idc idc idc its rael to me🤤

masterlists

You stir awake at the sound of your boyfriend getting ready for work. The sun was barely starting to rise and you had fallen asleep late last night. He was really gonna hear it this time. Well, that was until you rolled over and trailed your eyes over his shirtless body. 

"Did I wake you? I'm sorry." He sounds sincere as he struggles to put his belt through the loops of his pants. You watch as Leon fumbles with the belt but your eyes can't help but drift up ever so slightly. You roll your eyes and push your face into the pillow. Does he always have to be this hot? "What's got your panties in a twist this morning?" He chuckles lowly at your dramatic reaction. 

"Nothing." You mumble into the pillow. Leon laughs again and he's sure you're pouting into the pillow by now. "You can go back to sleep, you know." He's still oblivious to how much he’s turning you on. Moreover, how much his happy trail is turning you on. You roll onto your back again, deciding you needed air. He looks over at you, his belt finally around his hips, but still unbuckled.

His eyes roll over your body. Those shorts didn't look so short on you last night before bed. His eyes trail down to the comforter that was now half on the floor from your little temper tantrum. He walks over and picks it up, throwing it on the side that he should be sleeping in right now. You catch a glimpse of his unbuckled belt and it only makes your mind hazy with dirty thoughts. 

 "Do you have to be at work soon?" Your mouth says faster than your brain can think. "Not for another hour and a half. Why?" He responds calmly, totally unaware of what he was in for. "Do you have time for a quickie?" You bite your lip as you ask the question, and a smile appears on your face trying to sweeten the deal. His eyes go wide for a second as he processes what you're saying. "Right now?" He can't believe that you woke up this horny. (You didn't. It was his fault for being shirtless.)

You nod, hoping he'll say yes. As you wait for his answer your eyes can't help but drift from his face to his happy trail. "Come here." You smile happily and quickly crawl over to him. You waste no time unzipping his pants, pulling out his cock with record time. He lets out a laugh mixed with a moan when you eagerly take him in your mouth. He doesn't know what's gotten you so worked up but he doesn't complain. 

He places his hand on your head, pushing you just a little deeper on his cock. "Mmm, fuck baby." He moans as you run your tongue on the underside of his dick. Drool collects at the corner of your mouth as you suck him off like he's your favorite lollipop. Spoiler alert; he is. Your hands run over his happy trail, and suddenly it makes so much more sense to him. "God, you're such a slut for me. I love it."

You pull off his cock with a pop, a smile on your face as you look up at him. He had so many things he wanted to say to you. Many of them were teases for how happily you took his cock down your throat or how enticed you were by his happy trail. But he was so caught up in lust, he couldn't bring himself to say any of them. "All fours, please." He commands and you obey, your shorts riding up more than they should. 

He slides your shorts and underwear down in one fell swoop. "So pretty." He mumbles as he leaves soft kisses on your ass before lining himself up with your entrance. He slides his cock into your tight pussy, groaning lustfully and he wraps a hand loosely around your throat and pushes you against his chest as he pounds into your cunt.

Jumbled up words mixed with whimpers fall from your lips. His cock is fucking so deep inside of you, and his hand around your throat just fits like a necklace. "Mmm, so pretty, baby. Your pussy was made just f'r me." He moans into your ear, his voice deep, sexy, and full of need, just how you like it. "Takin' it s'good, yeah?" He chucked against your jaw, leaving rushes kisses.

Your jumbled words and whimpers soon turn to Leon's name. "Leon, Leon, oh fuck, Leon!" Your voice is so loud, he can't help but let your words ring through his ears. "Does it feel good, baby?" You can feel his cocky smirk on your jaw but you nod anyway. 

You can tell he's close as his moans turn into whines. "Gonna fill y'up. Gonna fill your pretty pussy with my cum." He whines into your ear. "Is that okay, baby?" He asks sweetly compared to what he said moments ago. "Please. Please cum in me!" His fingers meet your clit, rubbing pleasurable circles with ease.

"How could I say no to my beautiful princess?" He sinks his teeth into your shoulder as he cums. He continues to fuck into you and rub your clit until you cum. Practically screaming his name loud enough for his neighbors to hear as you do. He catches his breath before he pulls out, letting you fall back to your position on all fours. 

He watches as his cum drips out of you, pride swelling his chest. "Now, I don't want to go to work. Look what you did." He groans as he fingers his cum back into you. "Then stay." You wiggle your ass tauntingly and he can't see it but he just knows your smirking. "You're such a bad girl. I love it." He chuckles as he pulls his belt off. 

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[wrathofrats]

Mold me to another form, Press me till I'm raw and sore

Read here on on Ao3!

Happy mountain March have the virgin mountain fic I’ve been teasing for a second. @everybodyshusband COME GET UR FOOD BB

3.5k of pebble and ivy torturing mountain because he’s new and flustered and doesn’t know what he wants and the opportunity that presents itself is too good.

Warnings for voyerism/exhibitionism, some degrading, slight slight manipulation if you squint, little bit of pain but blink and you’ll miss it.

“Looks like we have an audience honey suckle”

Mountain can barely open his mouth to try and stammer out an apology before pebble keeps speaking. His hand moves faster where it’s still gripping ivy, forcing him further into the wood beneath him as he cries out.

“Come on Ivy, cum for him”

Or mountains a cute new summon and pebble and ivy can’t help but sexually frustrate him to no end.

It really wasn't mountains faults.

Pebble had told him to meet him in the greenhouse for a lesson. Enriching the soil or harvesting or something, he didn’t catch it. A quick note in between staring at Ivy who was wrapped around him in the common room. Honestly he barely mumbled out the time before Ivy was pulling his attention away once again.

He enjoys watching them, a mixture of jealousy and tantalization at seeing the two be so close and physical all the time. They brought a sense of loving comfort and a more sensual edge to them, at least to mountain, who was often at their heels learning his way around the abbey.

Mountain walks out into the garden to meet them, seeing no trace of the two. His eyes widened at the more than familiar sounds coming from the back corner where the greenhouse stood. Hushed whispers and moans that were unmistakable even to the new ghoul. The sounds grew louder as he walked closer, mountains feet moving completely on their own accord as if some weird part of his brain actually wanted to get a glimpse of them.

The door opens slowly, mountain internally cursing the old thing for being so rusted that he can barely get it unlatched without it telling on him. His hands shake as they grip the handle, the guilt and shame of trying to watch them making his breath hitch, but he can’t force himself to stop. The greenery covers him as he ducks to peek around the corner.

Pebble has Ivy bent over and pinned against a workbench. One claw digging deep into his hips and the other wrapped around the base of his cock.

“dont you fucking dare cum, be good and take it”

“pebble please I need it I-“

Mountains face flushes deep crimson at the sight of them. The waning sunlight reflects off of the tears slipping down ivy's face and the sound of him whimpering against the wood has mountain breathing heavily.

But pebble? The way pebble treats Ivy like he’s something to use makes mountain feel indescribable. He almost chokes when he hears how pebble speaks to him, at how pebble rakes his nails down his skin and smiles when ivy cries out in pain. It feels weird and his pants are too tight and he shouldn’t be watching this. He's dirty, perverted but it’s impossible to tear his eyes away from them.

A quiet, high pitched whine is ripped from his throat as he adjusts in the uncomfortable position he had settled in, hard and too worked up to think straight.

Suddenly pebbles head turns towards mountain.

“Looks like we have an audience honey suckle”

Mountain can barely open his mouth to try and stammer out an apology before pebble keeps speaking. His hand moves faster where it’s still gripping ivy, forcing him further into the wood beneath him as he cries out.

“Come on Ivy, cum for him” pebble yanks ivys head to the side by his hair to look at mountain. Pebbles hands are quick on Ivy’s cock and before he knows it ivys spilling all over pebbles fist with mountains name on his tongue.

It’s overwhelming, and mountains head clouds as he once again tries to apologize but pebble is too quick for him to react properly. Any thoughts being overpowered by the situation he’s found himself in. Guilt and arousal combined to subdue the regret in his throat almost completely.

Pebble gestures him over without a word, motioning for him to kneel on the grass in front of him. A hand brushes his lips before he realizes what pebble is telling him to do. He doesn’t feel in control of himself as his lips part, staring into pebbles eyes like he’s being controlled and pebble just slips his fingers into his mouth, wiping ivys release onto his tongue before placing his hand under his chin to close it.

“Good boy”

Through blurry vision mountain watches pebble hastily redress himself and ivy, hoisting him back onto shaky legs and giving him a once over accompanied by a sweet kiss. Pebbles attention turns back to mountain, also offering him a hand up and a pat on the cheek before walking out.

It seems like a game to pebble, a joke of some sorts that only really he is in on. The wicked smile as he caught mountain, then looking at him innocently like he hadn’t just made him lick someone else’s cum off his fingers. Mountain doesn’t know what to think.

A haze takes over him whenever he bumps into the two, the memory of the greenhouse incident being the only thing he can think about when he sees pebbles face. Innocent exchanges having mountain flustered and walking off to cool himself down even though nothing has happened.

The interactions don’t stay innocent however.

Mountain chalks it up to a wrong place, wrong time situation instead of anything more sinister. He can’t be blamed for freezing as he notices the lewd wet sounds coming from the living room. Especially since pebble just can’t keep his mouth shut.

Pebble sits on the couch with ivy nestled between his legs. Fingers tangled in his soft brown hair guiding his mouth up and down on his cock.

“What do you think mountain would think if he saw me use you like this sweet pea?” Pebble coos, a mocking smile to his voice that has Ivy whining, muffled and high in his throat. Mountain doesn’t know what to do with himself besides stand still and watch trying to hide himself behind the stair railing.

“Would he just think you’re a dumb whore? Maybe he’d want his own turn with you?” Ivys cheeks heat up more than they already had just thinking about it. Another soft, pathetic sound escapes his throat as pebble pulls hard on his hair, taking him off of his cock. Mountain can’t tear his eyes away, can’t retreat back up the stairs as he knows he should. He feels gross, like he shouldn’t be catching them, shouldn’t be thinking about them like this.

“Oh I know baby, maybe we can ask him” pebble smiles, talking just a bit too loud to be a coincidence.

It’s on purpose. Pebble is a fucking tease.

Every incident is set up just so mountain can catch them. Fucking ivy in plain sight where he knows mountain will be and honestly it’s just to see how much he can get away with. How far he can take his shenanigans before he breaks the innocent ghoul and forces him to use his words to tell them what he wants.

Ivy can’t act innocent either, absolutely involved in the game along with pebble. He plays himself up just to see mountains reaction. Moans when pebble mentions him knowing damn well he’s just around the corner. A bit of pity stays in the back of his mind, but the knowledge that mountain wants them so badly he barely knows what to do with himself is more than enticing to him. He craves the attention he gets from it, craves the fact that someone else needs him. Ivy especially loves how possessive pebble gets at knowing this too, that he needs to show Ivy off like some sort of trophy. So he continues to play along, presenting himself as a good little toy.

Mountain struggles. Hes jumpy, cautious when entering rooms like he might just walk right in on something he’s not meant to. Slow to come around corners and down the stairs, always listening a bit too intently. Pebble and ivy honestly find it cute how careful he appears to be, considering they know how much he likes stumbling upon them.

It doesn’t take much for mountain to break.

Walking in on them almost daily for a week has him about to fall to his knees and beg in front of pebble's door. Not even knowing what he’s asking for, just knowing he wants.

The last straw is walking in on the two again in the living room.

Once again slowly creeping down the stairs, listening intently for any signs he should instead abandon the idea and leave. He doesn’t hear it at first, assuming he’s safe until he’s too far into the room to back out.

Ivy sits on the couch with pebble settled between his legs this time. Both of his hands cover his face but mountain can tell how flushed he is. His breathing is ragged, heavy, as if he’s desperately trying to calm himself down and the smile on pebbles face tells mountain all he needs to know.

Something about Ivy’s cock twitching and leaking as pebble kisses at the head absolutely destroys him. Saliva pools in mountains mouth, and he can’t help but straight up gawk at the situation in front of him.

Hes been caught, he knows he has, but he can’t bring himself to care.

Pebble makes eye contact with him from the floor as he kitten licks ivys tip, curiously eyeing mountain as he lets a line of drool fall from his lips and down the shaft. It feels more like a command than just making him watch, the way his eyes shift as if he is beckoning mountain over to him.

He goes anyways, even if he isn’t sure. They’ve been teasing him for so long he can’t bring himself to believe it’s not on purpose anymore. The upwards curve of pebbles lips confirm his thoughts as he nods downward, motioning mountain to kneel beside him.

“Come on, you know what to do big guy”

Mountain looks back at him with something that can only be described as panic. He looks like a deer in head lights with his fingers digging into his knees

“I- I wouldn’t wanna intrude” he attempts to stammer out, looking for any excuse that doesn’t make him sound entirely incompetent.

“You aren’t, look at the poor thing, he’s been wanting your mouth for a while big guy” pebble smiles, with the tiniest bit of giddy to his voice knowing mountain has no clue what he’s doing. Practically taunting him.

Ivy can’t even look down at the two. He continues to hide his face with his hands, red and teary eyed and with how hard and angry his leaking cock looks, mountain can’t imagine how long pebbles been edging him, just waiting for him to show up.

“Just think you’d be better at it” mountain whispers

“Oh do you? Never done this before maple leaf?”

“No i-“ mountain starts, the blatant lie dying in his throat.

“Did you hear that sweet pea, you get to be mountains first” pebble smiles, claws gripping ivys thighs to get his attention. “Aren’t you honored to be able to be the first to fuck his sweet mouth?”

Ivy barely responds with something akin to whimper as pebble scratches him harder, his cock twitching once again at the pain.

“Just watch”

Pebble grips ivy at his base, giving him a good slow lick from root to tip before taking the head in his mouth. Ivy can’t help but give a pained whine when pebble pulls off once again with a little pop, lips pink and a little swollen from teasing Ivy for who knows how long.

There’s a tug at mountains shirt, pebble pulling him to be between ivys legs instead.

“Show me what you learned, cmon”

It’s so clumsy, mountain loosely grips Ivy in fist as if he’s scared to hurt him. He takes a second to look up, before thumbing over his tip as he watches more pre drip down the head, running down his shaft. He feels mesmerized, watching in awe while Ivy reacts to his every touch.

Mountain chases it with his tongue, licks a thick stripe up ivys shaft to catch it and ivy can’t help but almost buck into his mouth at the sensation.

“Don’t be greedy” pebble snaps at the earth ghoul above them “I’ve taught you better manners than that”

Ivy somehow goes more red than he was, mumbling out an apology behind his hands.

Mountain doesn’t even process most of the conversation, much too caught up in ivys taste. Something between tree sap and honey with his own musk mixed in. He can feel the pulse in his dick, the way it throbs in his hand and the entire situation in front of him is the only thing mountain can really focus on.

Pebble places a loving hand in his hair to attempt to coax him back to earth. His thumb strokes his scalp while mountain just stares at Ivy’s dick. Cleaning him delicately with his tongue as if he’s savoring the taste. Pebble pushes down on his head slightly to find it's much too easy to guide mountains mouth down, using barely any force to coax Ivy’s cock down his throat.

“Just keep those pretty lips open, relax”

Mountain gags a little, making pebble ease the pressure on his scalp off.

“Just breathe through your nose, relax, you’re ok” pebble tells him, voice softer than mountains ever heard it and honestly the kindness makes his vision blur. A complete whiplash to the usual harsher, more sarcastic tone he has.

Ivy isn’t very big, a decent couple inches, not very thick around but mountain struggles anyways. He tries hard, really gives it his best, letting pebble pull him up and down. His eyes water as he tries to force himself to relax. It feels weird, not bad, but it’s different. There comes a point where he’s practically bobbing on his own, pebble barely using any pressure anymore and mountain truly seems in a trance, almost cock drunk just off of only sucking on ivy for a couple minutes.

Pebbles other hand holds Ivy tightly at his base to prevent him from cumming embarrassingly early. Being edged for god knows how long combined with the sight of pebble practically teaching mountain how to use him, it’s just too much for ivy, and pebble absolutely knows that.

It’s a weird power trip for mountain to watch Ivy squirm above him, knowing he’s completely out of his mind with need just from his mouth. The sight of him desperate and practically ruined only fueling mountain to keep going as long as pebble lets him. Ivy’s hips buck as his legs shake, no doubt getting too close for pebble to be able to stop him anymore.

Pebble pulls mountain off just as Ivy is about to tip over the edge, quickly hooking a finger into his mouth to force it open. The other hand strokes Ivy, working him through his orgasm as he releases onto mountains face. He hungrily laps at what little bit got onto his lips and tongue. A dazed, static feeling settles into his brain and he can’t bring himself to close his mouth again. Hot and flushed, panting as ivys cum still sits warm on his skin. Mountain looks completely ruined, and pebble can’t help but feel proud of the two, if not jealous.

The sight of mountain completely ruined after just using his mouth is more than pebble thinks he can take. Honestly he can’t help himself. Thinking of the sounds he made with Ivy’s dick in his mouth, the look of submission in his eyes while pebble manhandled him into doing what he wanted, it’s too much for him to not need to get his hands on mountain himself.

He finds him in the greenhouse a couple days later. Leaned forward against the workbench mixing soils. There’s a tense smile as pebble walks in, mountain clearly being wary of the situation but knows what’s probably about to transpire anyways. He turns and backs up without being made to, giving easy access for pebble to drop to his knees in front of him.

There’s a struggle with mountains belt, pebbles shaky hands clumsily undoing the metal, an uncharacteristic nervousness about him as he works. He fumbles with the zipper, tugging at his jeans and boxers until he can pull mountain out fully.

Pebbles mouth waters. He almost moans when he finally sees mountains cock in front of him. He’s much bigger than he imagined, his hand barely wraps around the base and pebble curses under his breath. Mountain can’t help but feel a pang of pride at the way pebble acts so flustered at seeing his size.

His tongue darts out to kitten lick at the head, making mountain lean back to grip the workbench and push his hips forward slightly in hopes pebble will just swallow him down instead of playing his usual games.

A line of spit falls from pebbles lips and runs down his shaft. He makes a display of himself, mouth wide as he continues to tease, looking up at mountain through his eyelashes. He swirls his tongue around the head, before licking a fat line from his base, catching the small amount of pre that’s already started to form. He continues to tease until mountain is gripping the bench behind him so hard he’s sure there will be nail indents in the wood when he’s finished, cock angry and red and borderline painfully hard.

Swallowing him down is much more difficult than he thought, jaw aching at the size but pebble craves to feel him down his throat, stretching his mouth wide and making him gag. Mountain can barely bring himself to look down at the ghoul below him. It’s the first time he’s realized how much smaller pebble is than him, watching that hot, tight little mouth wrap around him and pebble can barely fit half of his cock down his throat before he’s gagging.

It’s hard for pebble not to feel smug. Getting him worked up and desperate, being the first to have his mouth on him. The sore throat the next day will only be a trophy for that testimony, a badge of honor. He wants to stay there, tease him for hours until mountain has tears in those big brown eyes but he just needs to feel him cum down his throat. Hes quick, sloppy, doesn’t want to take his time anymore, just wants to hear what mountain sounds like when he comes apart. Saliva runs down his chin as mountains hips move on their own, fucking up into pebbles mouth and in any other situation he’d chastise him but he can’t bring himself to care. It's easier than he thought, mountain attempting to choke out a warning only a couple minutes in but there’s barely an intelligible word before he’s shooting down pebbles throat.

Pebble pulls off with a pop, muttering a couple praises before smiling and leaving as if nothing happened.

He needs to tell Ivy, craves to be able to see the look on his face when describes how big he is, what he sounds like, what he tastes like, practically bragging about being able to get him like that.

He waits until he’s got Ivy pressed against the mattress, hands on his hips with his lips close to his ear

“Fucking massive, he would probably just split you in two if I ever met him get his hands on you honey suckle” pebble whispers, thrusting hard and fast while Ivy chokes on his own moans at what pebbles telling him.

“Probably would break my pretty toy, don’t know if I’d be able to let him have you doll”

Pebble can feel Ivy go tight around him, eyes crossing at the idea as pebble fucks him. The mixture of the way pebble rails him into the bed and the idea of mountain being so big he could break him, has ivy drooling, brain short circuiting before he’s almost begging for it. He simply needs to witness it for himself.

“Barely could get my hand around him, only god half of him in my mouth before I started gagging” pebble chuckles, “god should’ve heard him when he came down my throat, would’ve recorded it if I want so selfish”

Ivy tries not to moan, focuses on not saying mountains name and pebble can tell he’s struggling to control himself

“Cmon honeysuckle, know you want to say his name, cry out for him doll and maybe I’ll let him have you” he taunts

Ivy continues to stay silent besides the small noises forced from him as pebble uses him.

“Tell me what you want baby, go on”

Ivy fights himself to say it because he can’t imagine being allowed to be desperate for someone else let alone cry out their name while pebble has his cock in him. A hand grips his hair, pulling his head back.

“Say it”

“Fuck- need mountain to break me, need him to use me and fuck me open, need him to fucking split me in two pebble please-“

The embarrassment in ivys voice is reward enough for pebble, laughing at how shaky he is before releasing the grip on his scalp.

“Gonna cum for him? Make a mess thinking about how he would fucking ruin you?”

[blerb-f1]

"The Future" - Sebastian Vettel x reader

The news truly shocked me and compelled me to write this.

Lewis Hamilton is a side character in this.

not proofread i dont have the mental capacity rn

This fic also is kinda part of a series, but it can stand on it's own! For more, view my masterlist.

-------

“Have you considered it at least?”

A fragmented voice sounding through a tin-like phone speaker asked with a certain pressure behind it. The kind of pressure you’d only hear from people who wanted something. Something important.

Sebastian eyed the phone hesitantly, placing it on the windowsill while holding his watering can. Little droplets sliding down it’s side as he attempted to water his dried pot of basil - traveling was never something that helped in plantkeeping, not when you’d spend half the year in random hotels somewhere in the world.

He did not feel the need to return to the circus known as Formula 1, having enjoyed his time there but entirely content with retirement. Opposed to some of the others, he thought, he knew when to quit. No longer circling the biggest cities on earth but the supermarket parking lot in hopes of finding an empty spot. More importantly, waking up in his own bed for 7/7 days a week was a major joy to him, a feeling he didn’t feel like giving up.

“You know as well as i do, that we need an  experienced driver. George’s good but… He just can’t give us the direction needed.” Toto sounded quite serious at that moment - Lewis deciding to leave must have hurt him badly, considering him approaching Sebastian.

“Also… I just want someone i can trust to be around me”

Looking up in surprise, Seb almost dropped the watering can on the floor. Lewis leaving had REALLY hurt him.

“I’ve been thinking about retiring from F1 now. But they’d probably cancel F1 Academy without me around. Force Susie into Submission. I don’t want that. Fuck no.”

“Toto, I-” Sebastian started speaking, plucking the dead leaves from his pot of basil. “I like life. I love peaceful mornings.”

Silence. The phone speaker didn’t echo out for a few moments. 

“What would you say, if i told you we had a championship winning car?”

—-----------------------------------------------

“You really agree to it?” Sebastian asked, Surprise lingering on his voice.

“Of course i do, i’ve seen you thirst for racing while you yourself didn’t. I was with you from the beginning till the end of your career, don’t you think i’d be able to read you by now?” Y/N answered him, their eyebrows pulled together in a mild emotion.

“But there’s a catch.”

“Yes?”

“I’ll be your race engineer. Like i’ve always been”

“Huh?” Seb asked again, this time even more surprised than before. Y/N nodded seriously. “I can’t see you race with another Engineer at your side. It feels wrong.”

The man man pondered for a moment, his brain racking. “You’re right. I’ll talk to Toto.”

A week later, Mercedes made an announcement. For the 2025 season, Bono would be moving to the lead Race Engineer position, not being directly responsible for a single racer. The community was confused, unsure of what was happening. Would they be promoting a rookie racer and engineer to grow their youth? Would they be getting a driver and engineer paring from another team?

Twitter and Reddit Artists were working hard, creating shitpost after shitpost, pundits podcast over podcast as the season progressed, trying to figure out who’d be the next racer.

Meanwhile Sebastian and Y/N were busy in their own ways. Practicing their communication again, the driver getting physically fit and in shape again. Moreso than he had been during his time at Aston Martin. This was going to be serious - no more lazing around. Go hard or go home.

Y/N worked with Bono - the man they used to work against- to get used to the Mercedes way of communication. It was very difficult, more strict compared to the free Red Bull. More lenient compared to the crazy Ferrari. More rule governed, compared to Aston Martin. Peter Bonnington was surprised in his own way, understanding why L/N and Vettel were the scary Duo they had been all this time. They had been a team since 2008, their shared time rivaling his and Lewis. Lewis- that was a mental direction he shouldn’t go to. Mercedes would need to win the championship, no time to waste on stupid thoughts.

As the season progressed and Fans grew mad with their speculation, Mercedes made a post on their instagram. It was a Photo of one of the trees outside their HQ, with a little bee fluttering around it. One single Description. “We love nature”.

Fans went wild with speculation, thinking, planning, shitposting. 

Then one day, two weeks away from the season beginning, the news fell. Two announcement posts in a single day. Y/N L/N heading to Mercedes as Race Engineer, Sebastian Vettel as driver. Mercedes returning back to their silver arrows livery.

The community went wild, the thing they’d never expected had happened.

Lewis meanwhile, was downtrodden. He had expected this move to work out differently. Ferrari clearly designated Charles as Driver 1, not adjusting around him like he’d gotten used to. Their bad race engineering got him into trouble many times. Seeing this news almost broke him. They had replaced him with his friend, who didn’t speak a single word of this? Shame on him.

Shortly after, a Video went online on the Mercedes Account. Sebastian and Y/N were seated among the many championships belonging to Mercedes, clad in white teamgear. Their eyes were determined, telling people they hadn’t arrived to play. As Sebastian took of his hat, people noticed the change. His own cold smile had returned, the one that caused people to call him a smiling assassin. His locks short again, like when he’d won his own championships. Y/N had assimilated, they’re hair bleached and dyed into a silvery colour. 

Fans once again were shocked, they truly hadn’t expected Sebastian to return like this. More akin to the way Schumacher returned but apparently that was not the choice Vettel made - he was here to win, not for the participation trophy.

As the season opener in Australia rolled around, many eyes were glued to the screen. Y/N was sitting on a bicycle along with their driver on his own, passing over the track. Taking in texture, dirt and heat. The media approached them back in the pits, shoving microphones in their face. Y/N just grunted, showing the media a literal middle finger before dipping into the Mercedes pitwall. 

This was the same paring as back in 2011, ready to fight. Qualifying went well, dangerously well. It was as if Seb hadn’t left F1. But not the 2022 Version, the 2012 Version. His defense was ruthless, his attacks even more. He utilised all the skills he had honed over years, even the smallest tricks Michael had once explained to him to gain a faster time. As he crossed over the finish line in first position, Martin Brundle screamed out loud. Nobody had expected this, nobody thought he could win a race again. Toto was jumping in the Mercedes Garage, Y/N jumping along and almost throwing the headset down.

Sebastian on the radio was back to his own, singing, cheering and screaming absolute gibberish. Pulling into Parc Fermé, he was surprised at having the camera and microphone pushed into his face. This new way of doing things was very unusual to him. 

“So Sebastian, tell us how you’re feeling.”

“I feel like i belong” was his simple answer, pushing the camera out of his face as he headed to get weighed. He took a short look at the staircase leading up to the podium. It had been a while since he had last set foot onto them. They were almost scary but he knew, he was secure. A hand placed on his shoulder, one that he had felt there for many years. Y/N was there to get the constructors trophy, truely the only appropriate person today.

The clothing wasn’t the same as in the past, but the energy was. People were cheering, even more were booing. Not wanting another Era of Mercedes Dominance. Booing however, did nothing to deter Sebastian or Y/N. After all, they were the original Red Bull Villains. 

Ignoring the rules, they let the champagne down to the team to enjoy. This was their first victory after a few years as well, they deserved it after sacrificing two seasons to get this car made.

Then, a lone camera man captured an almost painfull view. Lewis Hamilton, clad in the strong Ferrari Red standing aside, looking up to the silver team with sadness and longing in his eyes. This hurt him, it truly did. Tears were welling in his eyes as the camera man moved away tactfully, instead capturing the celebrating couple instead.

The season progressed, a grandslam in all eyes. Win after win - not a single Race lost. As the Final in Bahrain rolled around and Sebastian collected his fifth driver’s championship, he knew he had found a new family and home. Y/N and him were celebrating wildly, the basil on the windowsill long forgotten among the glory and the parties, the heat and the energy.

It was that day, that a man entered a plane back to his new home in Italy. Eying the still not fully unpacked furniture, he settled onto a lightly dusted chair. Had leaving Mercedes truly not been the right decision? Lewis looked at a photobook a fan had gotten him. From winning with McLaren, the years with Nico and Valtteri, Mercedes had truly grown into his home and Family. What had made him leave them then? Was it the thirst for glory? Had he not enjoyed the atmosphere anymore? He felt conflicted. People had told him that Ferrari would break him. He didn’t want to believe them, but they were right. The red team had once again done what it did best. Destroy someone. Lewis looked back on Sebastian’s Face, remembering his defeated expression after the years of fighting with the red team. Of getting recognition for Kimi as well. Of standing up against Charles.

Lewis considered his options, putting his own life on the golden scale. Then, he made a decision. Opening instagram, he made a single post. Cuddling Roscoe, the description was simple, something nostalgic almost. “I hereby announce my retirement from Formula 1”

[lateraniansweets]

just some thoughts about forehead touching™ with vash because the brainworms are getting to me.

the first time he does it is when you're down with a really bad fever, leaving you bed ridden for a couple of days.

vash bless his soul, is more than happy to help but...

he kinda doesn't know what to do???? like he knows humans can easily get sick from changes in weather to plain exhaustion but he himself has never been sick because he's a Plant

so, yeah, he kinda panics and racks his brain on what to do. like should he get a doctor?? is the fever bad enough that you need to be hospitalised??

then BOOM. the cartoon lightbulb in his head goes off and his train of thought kinda went like this:

you = sick

when Plants are sick, do the forehead thing™ then they feel better so by that logic

you = sick = do the forehead thing™ on you.

so he kinda jsut does that???

he presses his forehead against yours, trying to pour his energy to you and you're just like 👁️👁️ because how do you react to your Plant boyfriend trying to do Plant things to you??

i mean it does work. you're fever down as what could be best described as a wave of soothing vibes wash over you and the Plant lines on vash's eyes glow faintly.

but like vash gets all embarassed when he realizes what he was doing and apologizes to you repeatedly for invading your personal space like that + doing the forehead thing™ on you.

he'll get sad internally if you say you dont like it

he Will Not Stop and you have to repeatedly assure and explain to him that you're fine with it.

but like yeeah once he knows you're okay with it vash starts doing to more often

oh you're feeling unwell? forehead thing™

you're sad? forehead thing™

he just wants to show his love for you? forehead thing™

while he can't communicate with you telepathically yet when he does it, the action in itself is more than enough to get the message through.

JUST LOOK AT HIM I AM SO DOWN BAD I HAVE AN EXAM IN A COUPLE OF MINUTES AND ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT IS H I M AAAA

anyways i have so many thoughts about this and Plant forms affection in general I need to talk to people about this

pls pls feed the dumpster fire that my brain is rn

[venusiangguk]

the art of yearning | jjk (m)

>>pairing: jungkook x reader / dilf!jk x grocery store clerk!oc

>>genre: friends with benefits, smut, angst

>>word count: 15.7k 

>>warnings: dom jk, sub oc, age gap, taekook heart to heart, a lot of self-directed negative thoughts from nari’s father </3, jaykay being a dumb man 😕, jaykay needing everything spelled out for him 🙄, tae to the rescue <3, hobi for comedic relief bc jfc 😭 the YEARNING, guilty jerk sesh lets goooo, lots of memories n fantasies <3, omg slight hinting at jk’s subby era!!, 1 finish followed by many regrets n thoughts ~~

>>notes: part 1 of 2 <3 this part is the post-fight happenings from jk’s pov! i split it up bc as we can see it’s already quite long 🥲 pls dont be mad at me <3 i hope u guys are able to understand jk’s reasoning n thought process a lil more after this !! 

this is part of my dilf jk series that can be found on my masterlist

>>summary: jungkook wants you as much as he misses you.

It’s a bit colder than the last time he was here. The air a bit chillier, the wind a little sharper. It’s admittedly been a while. A month, maybe a touch less. Jeongguk hasn’t really been keeping track. 

 Circumstances, like the weather, differ from the last time he was here as well. 

 It shouldn’t still feel like it’s as big of a deal as it does. It shouldn’t still be pressing so heavy on him, and it definitely shouldn’t cross his mind as often as it does when he deliberately does his best not to think about it. About you.

 You said you would think about things, but Jeongguk never said the same. So he truly does not understand why he just cannot keep you out of his head.

 When it’s his week with Nari, it’s not as bad– the thought of you isn’t so nonstop. Her terrible two’s, which really aren’t that terrible, keep him busy. 

 Constantly trying to keep up with her, or running around his home trying to find that damn narwhal that she always seems to misplace, even though he feels like she always has it in her tiny hands. She’s taken it with her everywhere since you got it for her. And there you are again. On his mind, clouding his thoughts. 

 Constantly redoing her pigtails that she yanks out. It’s a new, maybe slightly terrible, habit that she’s picked up. And they’re still always lopsided despite the numerous times you tried to show him how to make them symmetrical. You said something about tugging gently on the tiny sprouts until they were where he wanted them so– There he goes.

 Constantly closing and reclosing the baby gate she’s learned to open in the gym whenever he tries to clear his head by getting a workout in. Exercising does help a small amount when he’s not interrupted by his daughter. And when he doesn’t think about how the smudged handprints on the mirror got there. The ones that he has still yet to clean. Those instances are a bit gross but they aren’t exactly his fault. He doesn’t actively think about you then;  he’s reminded.

 A lot of things seem to remind him of you. 

 Work also keeps him occupied for the most part. Until it doesn’t. 

 Visions of you on your front, against his desk, with your hands cuffed behind your back, interrupt him during his video conferences. The metal part of his chair has scratches on it from where the same cuffs rubbed against it, metal on metal, as he struggled against their hold with you on top of him– his suits get caught on the ridges, the material getting snagged on the raised, uneven metal. Just like you get caught on the ridges of his brain, the memory of you getting snagged on his conscience.

 Jeongguk feels so guilty when he lets his mind wander to you like that.

 But that’s not even the worst of it. It’s even harder when Nari is at Dasom’s. 

 That’s when it really hits him– how intertwined you had become in his life. 

 You’re not there anymore, but you’re still everywhere. 

 You’re in the kitchen when he wakes up to make his morning coffee. In his shirt with sleepy eyes and a hopeless smile on your face as you laugh embarrassed. Telling him in your slightly scratchy morning voice that you had wanted to surprise him with his americano, but you couldn’t figure out the ‘fancy, high-tech’ coffee machine. 

 He can’t even remember how many times he showed you how to work it. You were able to figure out the blender eventually, but the Jura he splurged on seemed to have been a lost cause.

 You’re in his closet when he picks out his clothes; you’re picking out some of his to wear as your own, too. You’re in the articles of clothing you left behind, still taking up space in his dresser just as much as you’re still taking up space in his mind. 

 You’re on the couch with him when he settles down after work, fidgeting because you were never able to sit still for very long. Going back and forth between having your feet tucked underneath you, and outstretched on the recliner. Between having your head in your hand, and in his lap. 

 Jeongguk will say that he’s able to get through a series, a movie, a documentary– much faster, and he’s able to remember the premise a lot better now that he doesn’t have you constantly asking him questions about the plot. Questions you would have found the answer to eventually if you would have just watched. An annoying, yet cute and endearing tendency of yours that he misses more than he thought he would and more than he probably should.

 You’re in the garden too. In the flowers, the colors of the petals match the color of your nails that week. You’re in the grass, resting atop a blanket, head pillowed on your arms, just watching him as he tends to the weeds. You’re in the sun that beats down on his back because it feels warm, exactly like you did.

 A brisk breeze blows Jeongguk out of his thoughts and back to the present. He’s met with the familiar door in front of him. He’s apprehensive as he brings his hand up to knock.

 It opens before he even gets a chance to rap his knuckles against the wood, and he’s face to face with an overly excited, loud person.

 “Hello, my good…” Hoseok’s bright smile drops and his brows pinch in confusion, “singular bitch?” His tone is puzzled as he looks at Jeongguk and then over his shoulder like he’s searching for someone. “Where’s __?”

 Jeongguk sighs quietly, knowing that the questions were inevitably going to come. He RSVP’d you coming with him to Friendsgiving a bit prematurely, even before he asked you, just figuring it would be a given that you would agree and want to join. You were supposed to go with him and–

 He feels a teeny, tiny hand squeeze at his pinky, trying to get his attention. Nari’s eyes are big and round as she looks up at him. Her orange, leaf-shaped hair bow is about to fall out as she babbles a mostly decipherable version of your name, and Jeongguk’s heart chips a little in his chest. Her speech is getting better every day, even if she still babbles in broken phrases. Even if a lot of her words are still hard to pick up on and talking is her last resort. After you left, your name became one of the few words she could say clearly.

 He gives her a gentle, sad smile and shakes his head softly. “Not today, boba.”

 Nari seems mostly unbothered, used to that answer by now, her attention going to the rings on her dad’s fingers. She doesn’t ask about you as much anymore. Only when she’s reminded of you, like just now when Hoseok said your name or that time Jeongguk caved and looked through his photos with her tucked into his side while he thought she was preoccupied with her show on the tv. Maybe you’re starting to fade away in her little baby brain.

 Jeongguk’s attention goes back to his friend, who is standing with a tense smile on his face. “Thanks for that,” he says with a pointed look, walking through the threshold with full hands. 

 Hoseok throws his palms up. “Well how was I supposed to know you and __,” he mouths your name silently, “broke up? You don’t ever even reply to the groupchat anymore.”

 “That is because I have the groupchat muted. Also, we didn’t break up. We were never together,” Jeongguk says matter-of-factly, plucking the bow from Nari’s hair and trying to fix it and put it back in with one hand. He taps the little, lop-sided sprout and says, “Go on, say ‘hi’ to Uncle Hobi.”

 Nari smiles, the tulle bottom of her poofy dress bouncing, her teeny mary janes clicking with each step as she toddles over to her uncle. She extends her pudgy arms, one of her hands holding her narwhal.

 Hoseok crouches, picking up the baby. “Oh my goodness! Look at all those 2-year-old teeth!” His eyes drop to the plush she’s holding by the horn, “And what is th-” 

 Jeongguk interrupts him, shaking his head and making a loud, scolding, AH sound. And when their eyes meet, Hoseok’s are wide and confused, and Jeongguk’s are trying to convey ‘do not’.

 “Okay!” Hoseok carries on swiftly, the same stiff smile still on his face, “Let’s get Daddy to drop off that pie he’s holding, and then you can go see all your cousins and aunties and other less important uncles, hmm?” he coos to Nari, turning to walk towards Namjoon’s kitchen.

 “Jes!” she spouts, nodding in a rather professional manner like the plan is exactly perfect and like they should get right to business. She points towards where she knows the kitchen is with 3 of her baby fingers.

 Jeongguk follows suit smiling softly at his daughter while he simultaneously readies himself to face the onslaught of questions. The ones about where you are, what happened, and who did what. Whose fault it is. If he’s reached out;  if you have. If he regrets it; if he misses you. The sooner he gets that over with, the sooner he can have a glass of wine. Or two.

 Hoseok has other plans, sitting Nari’s butt on the marble countertop, next to the pie that Jeongguk sets down. When Jeongguk looks at him ready to take their leave, Hoseok is looking at the dessert.

 “What the hell is that, JK?”

 Jeongguk’s mouth drops open, before he sniffs, offended. “I made it from scratch and I worked very hard on it and you’re very rude.” He glances at the pie that’s under scrutiny, and will admit (to himself) that it’s not particularly… pretty. But it’s still edible. Probably.

 His friend makes a disgusted face that he doesn’t even try to hide. “Why didn’t you just buy one like we normally do?”

 The whole group rotates what they bring every year, and yes, everyone aside from Yoongi and Taehyung’s wife all provided a store-bought pie when it was their turn. Jeongguk shrugs.

  “You can grill. You can’t bake. You know this,” Hoseok reminds.

 When Jeongguk just stays quiet, Hoseok groans, rolling his eyes. Nari mimes him like a little parrot, her groan tinted with laughter like she thinks she’s the funniest thing in the world. Jeongguk agrees.

 “Don’t tell me–” Hoseok starts.

 “I just didn’t want to go to the grocery store,” Jeongguk interrupts, his voice huffy, even though he tries to sound nonchalant. Like it was completely normal for him to avoid the grocery store he’s been going to regularly for years.

 “Jeongguk,” the elder gripes, “what the fuck is going on?”

 Hoseok whispers the swear word as if that will prevent Nari from hearing it when she’s sat right in front of him and Jeongguk scowls, grabbing his toddler. He’s turning to walk away and talking over his shoulder. “She can still hear it even if you whisper it.”

 Quick footsteps catch up to Jeongguk before they fall into step with him. “Have you just been eating takeaway for–” Hoseok pauses, “however long it’s been? Don’t you care about your spawn’s health?”

 “Don’t call her that and of course, I haven’t,” Jeongguk replies, disgruntled. “I’ve been getting groceries delivered… Yoongi left us some food a couple of times too.”

 “Thank god for Yoongi,” Hoseok says with a roll of his eyes. “Have you been getting them from that place with the ridiculous delivery fee?”

 Jeongguk stays silent once again, adjusting Nari on his hip. Only a couple more feet until they reach the backyard and he can be free from Hoseok’s pestering. 

 “You know just because you have a lot of money and can spend it on stupid things, doesn’t mean you should,” Hoseok says in a rather bored tone before adding, “Also you could have literally gotten a pie delivered.” 

 Jeongguk pauses when they reach the sliding glass door, turning to look at the other. “First of all I tried, they’ve been sold out since Tuesday. Second of all, can we please just drop it? At least for right now?” he asks, a bit quieter. “I’ll tell you later, I just–” He tapers off at the end, his lips pursing.

 Hoseok softens, as he reads Jeongguk. He notes how tired he looks, his eyes dark underneath. The kind of sad twinge the younger’s voice has taken. How his shoulders sag a bit like something’s been weighing him down. And then Hoseok simply gives a nod and a small, slightly apologetic smile. 

 His hand comes to Jeongguk’s shoulder and he squeezes a few times, hoping the gesture comes off reassuring. “You know I’m just messing with you. And that I only ask because I care. Tell us when you want.”

 It’s then that Jeongguk’s reminded why they all have been friends for so long, and why he’s so grateful for them. 

 Although he’s had the groupchat muted, he’s glanced at it. He saw everyone still including him in the conversations even though he never replied. 

 Saw the individual texts from them too. 

 Jimin’s telling him that Solmi misses Nari and that they should have a playdate. Volunteering to host said playdate, to watch the girls for a little while, to let Jeongguk have a break if he needs it. 

 The ‘just checking in on you’ texts from Joon. Simple yet heartfelt messages that were a little too soft to read without his eyes stinging. 

 The offers from Jin and Hoseok to be his workout partners– the ones given despite the fact that everyone knows the older two have done their best to avoid joining Jeongguk at the gym since he picked up his relatively new and exceedingly intense boxing workouts. 

 Yoongi’s straightforward messages. Merely short notes; just quiet reminders that told Jeongguk a lot more than to remember to bring in the food Yoongi left by the door, to be quick so the bugs don’t get to it. I’ll take care of you, but remember to take care of yourself too.

 Taehyung’s ‘wyd’ texts, followed by a game invite on the Xbox that Jeongguk’s been playing more often than he’d liked to admit. He never pushed when Jeongguk declined, even though he could see him online.

 Hoseok opens the sliding glass door for them, and everyone’s heads turn to look. And it would be funny, the way that everyone’s smiles turn a little confused. If said smiles didn’t precede inquiries.

 “Where’s __?” 

 Jeongguk loves his friends, but it’s going to be a long night.

 ~~~

 The fancy outdoor patio lamps on Namjoon’s deck double as heaters and keep Jeongguk from shivering in the late autumn air as he sips that glass of wine he promised himself. A red that’s a hint more bitter than what he usually likes, but it seems fitting. 

 Maybe he’s a bit dramatic. And maybe he’s wallowing. 

 But he blames it on the alcohol. Doesn’t acknowledge that he’s been down, off, for a while. About a month, maybe a touch less.

 He moves his gaze from the red he’s absently swirling in his glass to the house, peering in from the outside. Sees all the kids playing in the living room, some of the adults on the couch by the fire, some in the kitchen still picking at the leftovers that Namjoon’s fiancée is trying to put away. That’s a recent development that came as no surprise, and Jeongguk’s happy for Namjoon and Hyesoo, but he wishes he could be happier. 

 One of Taehyung’s twins has Nari on their back, her hands gripping tightly in the floppy mop of hair on the boy's head. Jeongguk smiles softly to himself when he sees her mouth open and her eyes turn into tiny, little half-moons as she laughs. He closes his own briefly, tries to hear her baby giggles in his head. When he opens them again, his view is cut off by the twins’ dad.

 The bottle in Taehyung’s hand is full and the same kind that’s in the glass Jeongguk’s been nursing. He's holding another for himself as well. He stays quiet for a while as he stands behind the seat across from Jeongguk.

 “We’re gonna pull names for Secret Santa soon,” Taehyung eventually states.

 Jeongguk inhales deeply before blowing out like he’s readying himself to be around the rest of the gang again. His breath makes the few out-of-place strands of hair that have fallen across his forehead flutter, his hairstyle now messy from his hands running through it one too many times. Then he nods. “Alright. Should probably head inside then.”

 Taehyung mirrors his nod with a contemplative look. “Or we could just chat for a while. Make the kids practice patience for once.”

 “We could,” Jeongguk agrees easily, a barely-there grin on his lips. Maybe because he doesn’t want to go inside. Maybe because he knows his friend will quote-unquote, make him talk about what happened. He’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t think talking through everything would help alleviate some of the ache.

 The older boy looks like he gets himself comfortable, taking a seat and pulling the cork from the bottle. He tops off Jeongguk’s glass and while he’s filling his own he says, “Why’d you end things with her?”

 Jeongguk falters briefly, the wine glass pausing right before it reaches his lips. “You don’t know it was me that cut it off.”

 He gets a shrug in response. “I suppose. But if we’re going off track records, it’s you that has a bad one.” Taehyung snickers when Jeongguk scowls at him.

 Jeongguk clicks his tongue as he takes another, bigger sip. “Fair, I guess…” he amends, but doesn’t elaborate. Instead, he just sighs. “I don’t know. She’s too young. Or maybe I’m too old. Maybe the places that we’re at in life are just too different.” He doesn’t say it, but he thinks that he may be too far ahead and that he’s not sure if you would have been able to catch up because that’s just the way that time works. “Either way, it doesn’t matter.”

 “Did she somehow get younger since the barbeque? Because it didn’t seem like it bothered you then?” Taehyung asks with a chuckle before adding, “Also, 7 years isn’t even that big of an age difference. I think the thing that might make you feel like it’s a bigger deal than it is, is the fact that there is such a drastic difference in your careers… ” 

 He ponders quietly for a second before he decides to tack on, “Which is okay, you’re allowed to be cautious about that kind of stuff. If I made as much as you, I would too,” Taehyung puts a humble hand to his chest, a soft laugh falling from his lips. The hand he raises is modest because he does very well for himself, right on par with Jeongguk and they both know it. “But I also hope you know that it’s normal for her to not know what she wants to do at her age. Not everyone is like you and Dasom were.”

 The way Jeongguk’s cheeks turn to a faint hue of pink at the mention of the barbeque is an involuntary reaction, and he presses his eyes shut to try and fight off the wave of embarrassment. But little snapshot memories of you play against his lids like a montage– you in the water talking with Jin’s wife, at the edge of the pool with aioli on your bottom lip. In the chair next to him with Nari sleeping in your lap, in the bathroom with flushed cheeks, and him between legs. In his hands, in his arms, in his heart. 

 He revels in it, lets himself miss you for just a moment. 

 “___ met her by the way. Dasom, I mean. That was the– catalyst? The thing that got the ball rolling, I guess?” Jeongguk states softly, like he’s not sure if he chose the right words. He’s trying for an air of nonchalance, his eyes flicking downcast as his tattooed fingers toy with the stem of his glass. 

 “And that never really bothered me surprisingly. Like her job…” he adds with a half-hearted shrug. “But you’re right. It’s okay that she doesn’t know what she wants to do career-wise yet…” He watches a droplet of condensation run down the curve of the glass until it drops, the moisture making the wood of the table a few shades darker.

 “But that was just another factor. The not knowing that came with her being so much younger. I think she thought that she knew what she wanted. Thought that she wanted to be with me.” He shrugs again, a small, slightly sad smile on his face. 

 “I’m not sure she knew what being with a divorced father would actually entail, or that she would have still wanted it if she did. I couldn’t let her trap herself, no matter how much I wanted her to stay. It would have just led to resentment and regret. And I wouldn’t have been able to handle her hating me.” He glances at Taehyung briefly before he looks away. “We just had a wake-up call, I guess. A bit of a reality check.” 

 Taehyung winces sympathetically. “I can see how your current girlfriend meeting your baby mama could make things a smidge tense, and cause you to really think things over, maybe take a break… But enough for you to completely end things?”

 Jeongguk doesn’t bother correcting Taehyung. Just shakes his head. “It was always going to…” He pauses, thinks to himself quietly. End doesn’t feel like the right word because you and him never really began. “Stop…” he settles on saying. “If it wasn’t Nari’s mom, it would have been something else, you know? The wake-up call would have come eventually. And sooner is better than later.”

 “Wait back up…” Taehyung’s eyes roam like he’s trying to make sense of what Jeongguk is saying and his previous statement is just now registering. “But she said she wanted to be with you?” he clarifies.

 Jeongguk nods, takes a sip of wine.

 “And you wanted to be with her?”

 Jeongguk gives another, more stilted nod. “I mean, yeah…? But like I said, it just wouldn’t have worked –for a number of reasons– and we had a wake-up call.”

 “Okay,” Taehyung shuts his eyes and shakes his head along with his hands, trying to shush his friend. “Forget about this alleged wake-up call and your reasons for like two seconds,” he says.

 Jeongguk sits quietly across from him.

 “So you’re telling me she blatantly said she wanted to be with you–” He places one hand on the table, palm up before continuing. “–and that you wanted to be with her–” He places his other hand on top of his first, interlocking his fingers as if he’s putting two and two together. “–but you ended things, basically made her decision for her–” He jerks his hands apart dramatically, with an explosive gesture. “–because you think she doesn’t know what she wants?”

 A brief lull in the conversation ensues. 

 “Among other things,” Jeongguk quips eventually with pinched brows. He feels a bit small like he’s being scolded.

 Taehyung’s head tilts back, and he takes a deep breath before speaking in a very parent-esque tone like he’s trying to explain something to a child. “Jeongguk, you cannot do that. You have got to let people make their own decisions.”

 Jeongguk does not appreciate the intonation and he shows as much by narrowing his eyes. 

 “So ___ met your ex, who probably manipulated the situation to her liking,” Jeongguk opens his mouth to defend the mother of his child –it’s a habit at this point– but Taehyung cuts him off with a raised hand and a roll of his eyes. “The woman literally twists and manhandles situations for a living, please save your ‘Dasom’s not a bad person, she’s not a bad mom’ lecture.” 

 Taehyung’s known Dasom for a long time and while he’s never really been her biggest fan, even he will acknowledge that part of her, the part that’s calculating and crafty with words, is a skill just as much as it’s a flaw. It always instilled an unsettled, almost disturbed, awe in him when he caught glimpses of how she was able to spin things to get her way and gain control over situations. It made her an incredible lawyer; it allowed her to excel in her field and advance her career incredibly fast. 

 And he’s well aware that Dasom has a right, to some extent as Nari’s mother, to question who Jeongguk brings around their daughter. But he also knows she can be dramatic, calculative, and quite cruel at times. He doesn’t doubt that seeing someone new in her old home with her ex-husband put her on the defensive… Made her lash out, blow things out of proportion, and use that skill of hers to put thoughts into Jeongguk’s head, and potentially yours too, to attain the upper hand again. 

 In all honesty, when Taehyung looks at it from an unbiased, objective point of view… He’s not sure he can even blame Jeongguk’s ex. Even if he is harsh for the simple fact that he’s Jeongguk’s best friend and does think that Dasom likely exaggerated the points of whatever she said– it’s not hard to gather that the entire situation was shit all around, and everyone involved was caught off guard. 

 The natural tension that comes with unexpected and unfamiliar situations probably caused everyone to act in ways they typically wouldn’t. Words harsher, actions meaner, outcomes more drastic. The damage done to all parties by all parties was most likely unintentional, albeit extreme. 

 But he says what he says, and promptly carries on with his point. “So she met your lawyer ex, and you told her she doesn’t know what she wants…” Taehyung finishes as if he’s keeping a mental tab of everything that went wrong. “And then ___ just… left?”

 “It was slightly more intense and painful and complicated than that,” Jeongguk replies in a defensive tone, “but essentially I guess? I mean I told her I wasn’t going to let her stay so what else was she going to do? I didn’t really give her much of a choice.”

 Taehyung’s face falls, and he chooses to ignore how easily the words fall from Jeongguk’s lips; almost like they don’t fully register.  “Please tell me you didn’t actually say that to her. That you ‘wouldn’t let her stay’.” 

 Jeongguk stays silent once more, a miffed expression overtaking his features this time.

 “Jesus, Gguk.” Taehyung pinches the bridge of his nose, looks like he’s in actual pain because of Jeongguk’s actions. “Have you talked to her since?” 

 The younger one deflates, his irritation transitions quickly and smoothly to dejection. “Kinda. She left in the middle of the night really upset… like crying. And we– she was probably tired… Then add the stress of Dasom showing up–” 

 He winces to himself, remembering the state you were in. He wasn’t much better off, but still, he feels bad because– “I knew all of that and I still let her leave. Obviously? Right? Because I was the one that told her to go?” He looks confused, like he’s trying to make sense of his past actions and what he was feeling at that moment because it doesn't quite make sense now. 

 “Anyway, I got really worried and I impulsively texted her, asking if she made it home safe…” After a tense pause, he tacks on: “She didn’t reply.” Like it’s an afterthought.

 “And neither would I if someone said the things you said to her, to me,” Taehyung says with a flat stare.

 “Who’s side are you on?” The questioned reply sounds whiny, maybe slightly begging.

 “Yours!” Taehyung exclaims, “We are all Team Jeongguk except Jeongguk.”

 The notes of the conversation have been a bit melancholic for obvious reasons, but it’s more or less remained easy to manage. However, as Jeongguk holds Taehyung’s stare for a few long moments he feels a wonted, recognizable ache begin to stop up his voice. He looks away with a shake of his head. “You don’t get it. You don’t know everything that happened, or how it felt to get rid of her when she was–”

 Cutting himself off is a consequence of the lump in his throat. That familiar, ordinarily tender ache growing until he can’t get around it anymore. 

 “Then tell me,” Taehyung stresses, adding a pleading edge to his words. “Explain to me what happened, describe how it felt to cut her out. When she was what? Spell it out for me,” he requests. 

 Sure he wants to know, but he’s mainly trying to keep Jeongguk talking. Trying to get him to work through the false narratives he has in his head for why he ended things with you, while he explains them to him.

 Jeongguk’s brooding; ruminating as he tries to sort his thoughts. Surface level– they're easy, simple questions when he thinks about them easily and simply. When he contemplates them in superficial ways. 

 What happened? He cut you out.  

 How did it feel to cut you out? It hurt. 

 What were you to him that made it hurt when he cut you out? The basic, most elementary explanation would be that you were someone he cared about and someone he wanted to keep. 

 It's simple enough to explain, easy enough to understand when he describes it superficially.

 But when he digs deeper, thoroughly reflects– it’s not as easy. It’s quite the contrary. 

 Because with depth comes intricacies that are so weighted and hold so much gravity that it makes them too difficult and complex to explain. They are too personal and intimate and special to describe to someone who just isn’t privy. 

 Jeongguk couldn’t even figure it out. Even he wasn’t able to grasp, couldn’t comprehend, wasn’t able to figure out a way to make you and him simple; him and you easy enough to just work. 

 And if he couldn’t understand it– he’s not convinced he’ll be able to break it down and simplify it enough to elucidate it to someone who doesn’t know you as he did, someone who didn’t get to experience you the way he got to. 

 Because it’s all so much bigger than ‘cutting’ and ‘hurting’ and ‘caring’ and ‘wanting’.

 Jeongguk gives Taehyung the plainest, most straightforward explanation that he can muster. “It hurt to cut her out because I cared about her and I wanted her. But I had to.”

 “If you wanted her, why didn’t you let yourself have her?” Taehyung asks, his voice inquisitively puzzled and laced with empathetic pity.  “Why did you have to?” 

 “It was never supposed to be serious,” Jeongguk snaps, his voice vexed and short, like he’s irritated that he has to explain because it should be obvious. “We were never supposed to get as involved or like– as invested as we did. That wasn’t part of the plan–”

 Taehyung retaliates and makes his voice sharp to match. “Oh for fuck’s sake, Jeongguk. Was the divorce not enough for you to realize that plans don’t mean shit? Was that not enough for you to see that even literal years of planning won’t keep something from falling apart?”

 The shift in the atmosphere could be felt even as he was still speaking. Now that he’s done and it's quiet, the tension is palpable and Taehyung knows he’s so incredibly close to overstepping. He can tell Jeongguk is trying to keep himself calm. The younger has his hands curled into tight fists and he does that tick– the one where he subtly jerks his head to the side, jutting his jaw out firmly. But still, Taehyung continues, although he treads a bit more carefully this time. 

 His voice is quiet and he’s talking at a slower pace than normal like he’s trying to ease Jeongguk into his next point. “Was having a baby to save your marriage part of your plan?”

 It’s not a laugh; the sound that leaves his lips can’t be classified as that– but Jeongguk barks out something. Maybe a scoff? A cackle? Taehyung can’t be sure, but it's an irate, sarcastic, scary thing that lets him know that Jeongguk is fuming, just shy of being absolutely done with him and his shit.

 “Tae, I promise you that if you do not think before you open your fucking mouth again–”

 Taehyung winces and raises his hands in both surrender and defense like he’s trying to placate Jeongguk while also trying to protect himself. “Please– just let me finish?”

 Jeongguk says nothing– the lividity coloring his features is telling enough. And Taehyung should probably do the same: Say nothing and heed the verbal and gestural warnings. Should probably read the room. 

 Naturally, he does not. Instead, choosing to tentatively continue.

 “Was having a baby to save your marriage part of your plan? No. It wasn’t. But!” Taehyung rushes the words out, using the conjunction as a way to let Jeongguk know that he still has more to say and a chance to redeem himself.

  “But– it also didn’t ruin anything. Something happening that isn’t part of the original plan, doesn’t automatically mean the new outcome is going to end up bad.” Taehyung watches Jeongguk’s scowl intensify, but he also sees how his clenched fists lose some of the tension, the veins and tendons becoming more subtle under his tattooed skin. 

 “You ended up with the best thing that’s ever happened to you because things didn’t go according to plan,” Taehyung reiterates, his voice soft, yet stern. 

 There’s a decent lull in the flow of the conversation; enough time for Jeongguk to speak up. Taehyung decides to continue when he doesn’t. 

 “Make all the plans you want, Jeongguk. But you will never be able to plan for everything. It’s impossible because there’s no way for you to know what’s going to happen.” He gives him another chance to say something, but Jeongguk’s lips are pressed in a stubborn line and his jaw is clenched. 

 Taehyung begins again, “You can make all the plans you want but most, if not all, of them, aren’t going to go the way you thought they would or the way you thought you wanted. They’re going to deviate in some way or another because you were planning for something uncertain and constantly changing.”

 “There’s a chance that some of the outcomes will be bad, and that they will hurt so fucking bad. It could end up being the worst thing that ever happens to you. And I get being scared of that. I get why you want to plan, and why you have this ‘one or the other/all or nothing/black and white' mindset. I know it feels safer and like you have more control,” Taehyung sympathizes. 

 “But you have to acknowledge that there’s also a chance that an unplanned outcome can be better than an intended one. It could be the best thing that ever happens to you. It could be a ‘Nari’ outcome.” Taehyung tries for an encouraging smile. “___ might be one of those ‘plans’ that don’t go the way you mean for it to but end up resulting in something better. But you won’t ever know if you don’t let go of some of that control and just let things happen.”

 The sentiment Jeongguk is left with is a bruising, taxing one. It’s making his throat tight and swallowing Taehyung’s notions, a chore. He’s blinking back heavy, angry tears, because he knows that what his friend is saying makes sense. He also knows that it doesn’t really change much of anything because he already let you go.

 “I know that I can’t control everything and that I can’t predict every single outcome,” Jeongguk starts, “But I have to think about things long-term. If I can prevent certain things from occurring, or even encourage some, by planning… Then I have to at least make an effort to. For Nari’s sake.”

 “Well obviously you think long-term about the big picture,” Taehyung agrees. He’s a father too, after all. “But you have to be willing to compromise and adapt along the way. It doesn’t have to be completely all or nothing or as extreme as you think it does. You can change your mind as things happen. Choices aren’t contracts. You can have a change of heart and you can change the quote-unquote, plan.”

 Jeongguk feels his stomach drop at the last part of Taehyung’s statement, feels a little sick actually– so he bypasses it completely, acts like he doesn’t hear it. Instead, he says, “I didn’t do that with ___. Looking back, it feels like I didn’t think about anything long term when I was with her.”

 Taehyung looks at him, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

 “It was like everything was only as big as her. I only thought ahead when I was thinking about the next time I would see her. I stopped planning and being responsible and I started overlooking what should have been important and–” Jeongguk’s mouth opens and closes a few times like he’s trying to find the words but he ends up just shaking his head, his voice quiet when he goes with, “It was like I wanted her so badly that I got consumed by her because everything felt so good and I was so happy… I didn’t think about anything else. Didn’t think about Nari, I didn’t think about __… I didn’t even think about my future self.”

 Jeongguk’s elbows find their place on the table and he presses the heels of his palms into his eyes, before scrubbing his hands down his face, tired and defeated looking when he glances up again. “I forgot that I had priorities like–  I have a baby, a tiny person that is directly dependent on me for everything. I– I can’t just do that.” 

 “Also, I was being so selfish the whole time,” he transitions in an almost panicky tone. He’s rambling, ranting perhaps, with a self-directed, humorless laugh, “And it was so easy to be that way and get lost in her because of how she was. She was so good, Tae. Like carefree, and sweet, and so giving. She made everything so–” 

 His words get cut short. Caught on his heart that’s ballooning; swelling so big in his chest. Filling his pleural cavity with this contrite guilt that’s so sharp it cuts through his brain fog and he becomes so miserably aware of the fact that maybe it was so easy for him to be so selfish –so thoughtless– with you was due to you being so ready and so willing to give him everything– without asking for anything in return. 

 He didn’t have to give to get –and he didn’t mean to, he didn’t do it consciously– but he ended up just taking and taking and taking. 

 The epiphanic dawning makes it sound raw, almost choked when he gets out, “–just so much better and easier.”

 “Gguk–” Taehyung tries.

 “God I was so fucking selfish– like so careless with her,” he repeats. Sounds kind of shocked, surprised with himself. “Like– I knew I had no intention of keeping her. Even if I ended up wanting to, I knew. I always knew I wouldn’t let myself have her like that. And still,” He stresses the word and squeezes his eyes shut and just barely shakes his head, “I still intertwined our lives together so seamlessly and I still–” 

 The atmosphere is heavy and there’s an air of disappointment cloaking Jeongguk’s thoughts and admissions. It’s undeniable that the chagrin is self-directed; displeased with himself not only because of how irresponsible he feels he was –with you and his daughter– but also because of how he’s let the whole situation deplete him. How he let himself get so fixated that he’s only just now recognizing, or maybe admitting, his faults. How he allowed the situation to evolve into something so much bigger and heavier than it should have; exhausting him. 

 Taehyung, who finishes off his glass of wine during the pregnant pause, looks across the table and holds Jeongguk’s gaze for a fleeting moment before he’s shrugging. His tone is listless, lackadaisical as he says, “I don’t think you were being selfish. You said it yourself: You were happy with her. She was happy with you.”

 Jeongguk sits there, flabbergasted and at a loss for words. It feels like he’s falling apart, maybe close to dying even– yet across from him his best friend looks almost bored? Maybe not bored, but stoically calm? Aloof? 

 And Jeongguk knows he’s being sensitive and dramatic and he knows it’s not Taehyung that’s becoming hyperconscious of his past mistakes, but aloof isn’t exactly the reaction he expected after more or less having a breakdown. Jeongguk takes a moment, gathers himself just to become confused again when he catches up to Taehyung’s words. 

 He asks his friend if he means what he said about not thinking that Jeongguk was selfish. Can’t fathom how Taehyung couldn’t see the selfishness of his actions, how he can find him blameless in the situation; when he, himself feels his self-interest was blatant.

 “Based on what you told me, I think you portrayed a lot of…” The older one pauses, eyes looking skyward like he’s searching for the right word. It kind of seems like he’s settling, trying to soften the blow, when he says “...unbecoming qualities.” 

 His shoulders slump at Taehyung’s words, but Jeongguk now deems that he doesn’t need to know how his friend can find him blameless because his friend simply doesn’t. 

 Not that Jeongguk can blame him. 

 “But I don’t think selfishness was one of them because I don't think it’s selfish to prioritize happiness,” he states. “It’s the universal pursuit– everyone wants it…” He squints at Jeongguk, his expression mildly captious. “If anything I think you were more selfish when you ended things.”

 A soft, unbelieving scoff leaves Jeongguk's lips before he can stop it. He recovers by shaking his head. His fingers extend, and he waves his hands around a little like he’s frustrated. “I ended it for her. So she could be free–”

 “So you wanted her to be ‘free’,” Taehyung wiggles his fingers, air-quoting. “but not the kind of ‘free’ where she’s ‘free’ to make her own decisions?”

 “I–” Jeongguk’s mouth snaps shut. He flounders a little before he gives up and settles into a malcontent frown.

 “Do you see what I’m getting at?” Taehyung asks, his tone slightly parental again. Sounds mostly patient, if not, just edging on short.

 Jeongguk’s reply is headstrong silence.

 “You completely snubbed her and overlooked what she wanted to do what you wanted because you thought it was selfless and the right thing–”

 “I didn’t want to–”

 “But you must have?” Taehyung says, his palms open and gesturing in front of him like the proof is plain to see, like it’s right there on the empty table between them. He’s tried to stay patient, keep that calm tolerance. But he’s just over how dreadfully dense his friend is being. His tone is no longer just edging on short– Taehyung’s past that. It’s almost malicious and instigative when he snaps, “Because if you didn’t want to, Jeongguk, then why did you do it?” 

 Jeongguk’s nostrils flare slightly as he tries to not lash out as he counters, “I already told you–”

 “Yeah, you told me a whole bunch of bullshit excuses for not trying.”

 An offended, indignant gasp is the only comeback Jeongguk can give before Taehyung is ranting again, talking over him.

 “Okay,” His gestures go from exasperated to pacifying as he bares his palms to Jeongguk, almost like he’s surrendering. He’s not, of course, but he’ll admit that was a bit harsh. “As I said earlier, I get it. Like yeah. I get being hesitant, I get being scared. I get you feeling guilty for the way that things played out. Those are all totally valid feelings; ways to… act?” 

 Taehyung thinks, then grins when he comes up with a better word. “Those are all valid ways to behave in this situation.” He nods to himself as if he’s his audience and he’s encouraging himself because he’s giving the best speech known to man. 

 “But some emotions and behaviors are not valid in this situation. Entitlement, for one. It’s my opinion that you must have been emoting this quite generously considering how you were acting like it was your right to disregard her. Her feelings, her choices, her wants,” Taehyung points to a finger every time he lists something of yours that Jeongguk overlooked, and Jeongguk shirks in on himself a little more each time. In his head, he sniffs, turns his nose up at Taehyung’s opinion.

 “Self-righteousness. You know a lot. You may even know more, and better than her about certain things, but not all things. You don’t know everything. Jeongguk does not know what __ wants. Jeongguk does not know what is best for ___. Jeongguk may have an opinion on it, but only ___ knows that. What you think is right, isn’t always what is right. Consider what you were coming off as. As a pretentious, arrogant, self-righteous ass. And for what?”

 When Jeongguk parts his lips to speak, to at least try and defend himself, because jesus fucking christ, Taehyung interrupts him. 

 “For nothing. You’re not the standard.”

 “Alright–”

 “Pusillanimity.”

 Jeongguk purses his lips and allows himself to be talked over, once again, as he shifts feebly in his seat. Wonders when Taehyung's vocabulary became so extensive and mean.  

 “You’re allowed to feel scared, but you’re not allowed to behave like a pussy about it–”

 “I resent that–”

 “–as you should,” Taehyung says without missing a beat, smoothly transitioning back to what he was saying. “You’re being a coward, Gguk. Like point-blank. Taking the easy way out and pushing her away because you’re too afraid to take a risk. Because you don’t have the courage to choose her and try.” His expression is sad, dressed with muted disappointment, maybe a glimmer of pity. “And I guarantee that when you chose easy instead of choosing her– it hurt her. She’s the one you were trying to take care of, but she’s the one you ended up hurting. And you hurt yourself.”

 Taehyung can see how much self-inflicted pain Jeongguk brought on himself when he hurt you. He’s sure it hurt him in the moment too, but retrospectively, it’s written so transparently on Jeongguk’s face. Brows are pinched, mouth slightly parted, shallow exhales puffing out like Taehyung’s words knocked the wind out of him and he’s trying to catch his breath again.

 He shakes his head helplessly, whispers, “I didn’t mean to.”

 “I know you didn’t, and I think she probably knows that too,” Taehyung consoles. 

 He considers leaving it at that, not wanting to come off more lecture-y than he already has. Feels a little bad about being so hard on the younger, too. But he also feels like Jeongguk has so thoroughly convinced himself that he did the right thing. That Jeongguk has done such a good job of gaslighting himself, that he daftly believes ending things with you was for the best. That ending wasn’t just the only conclusion, but it was an unavoidable conclusion. 

 Taehyung wonders if maybe Jeongguk is the one that needs things broken down and spelled out for him to get that he could have done things differently. That if he made alternate choices, there could have been an alternate ending where he didn’t break his own heart. 

 “Jeongguk, you’re a such great dad to Nari. She’s never going to doubt how much you care or how important she is to you because loving her is the thing you're best at,” Taehyung waits just a second before he adds in a gentle voice, “But you’re not just a really great dad, and you’re allowed to prioritize and love other things… other people.”

 Jeongguk starts to shake his head, an argument on the tip of his tongue. Ready to tell Taehyung that of course he’s allowed to love other things and other people. He knows this.

 That wasn’t the issue with you. He knew that with time the desire he had for you likely would have blossomed into something more. If he chose to– he probably could have loved you. Could have kept you for himself, selfishly, just as he wanted to. He could have indulged in you, could have let himself be smothered in everything that came with you. He could have loved you eagerly, and he knows he could have loved you so perfectly. 

 Maybe. 

 With time, probably.

 If he was just a touch more greedy than he is, he might have allowed himself.

 The issue with you was that he got so immersed in and preoccupied with you that he lost sight of everything else. Let himself get distracted and act in ways that, as a father, he just couldn’t. So while he could have allowed himself to love you, he couldn’t allow himself to become irresponsible. He tells Taehyung as much. 

 “Gguk, that’s just what happens when you find something new to care about. It’s exciting and it feels good,” Taehyung explains gently, “You fuck up and end up making a few mistakes because you’re a little caught up and preoccupied. Your priorities get skewed because there’s something else that’s becoming important to you too, and you haven’t learned how to manage it.” 

 “And yeah, you might get selfish and a little consumed. Immersed. But that’s normal, not irresponsible, and you have to cut yourself some slack while you figure out how to make time for it and work it into your life.”

 There’s a glassiness gleaming in Jeongguk’s eyes, heavy tears welling until there’s just too many. The drops trek freely despite his efforts to keep them in, his cheeks sticky and salty, his nose runny and red, and his shoulders shaking as he attempts to stay collected. 

 It’s quiet and he stutters a little as he gets out, “I-it didn’t feel like this with D–” A deep, guilty shame makes it hard to get her name out.

 Jeongguk doesn’t even try to finish, persisting with, “I’m just s-scared I’m gonna fuck up again, like I did w-” A watery, frustrated groan cuts him off and he puts his hands over his face when he can’t finish his sentence again because of his cries. Like I did with Dasom. Like I’ve already done, and am still doing with you. 

 “Gguk,” Taehyung laughs, trying to lighten the mood, “There’s an adjustment period and it’ll take a bit of trial and error, but you’ll find a new balance.”

 “___ can be important to you at the same time that Nari is important to you at the same time that Dasom is important to you at the same time that you’re important to you. Caring about one thing doesn’t mean that you suddenly begin caring about another thing less. You just care about them in different ways.”

 Jeongguk is trying to compose himself, keeps taking those deep, slightly hiccupy, self-soothing breaths. Holding them in, before blowing them out harshly. Taehyung knows Jeongguk’s almost at his breaking point but he only has a bit left to say.

 “Maybe ___ didn’t know all of the stuff that comes with being with someone who has a kid, and an ex, and a past. Maybe she didn’t fully know what she wanted because of that. But you know what you should have done instead of pushing her away?” he asks gently, “You should have explained it to her. Told her the bad and the good. Because of course, it’s a lot; it’s really, really tough. But it’s also so rewarding, and a privilege.”

 Jeongguk is growing weepier with each passing minute, but he gives a sorry, sapped nod just to show Taehyung he’s listening. 

 “After explaining it to her, you should have given her time to think about it, weigh the pros and cons. You should have waited for her to make her own choice. Then you should have considered what would’ve been best for both of you, what would make you both happiest. From there, you should have decided on the next step together. And then you should have tried.”

 His leg is bouncing under the table and he twists one of the few rings on his fingers. He’s trying to keep his composure but the more Taehyung explains things to him, the more regretfully obtuse Jeongguk feels. 

 Because he very well might be all the things Taehyung said he was– but he is a good version of them. He swears it. And he knows it doesn’t really make sense; that it’s almost impossible to be a good type of entitled and self-righteous. That it’s not believable that his cowardly and pusillanimous actions came from a good place. But to him– they did. He knows what his intentions were, and he knows that they were so pure. That he did what he did because he cared about you. 

 Admitting he was scared, acknowledging that the fear he felt was pure cowardice, is the least he can do. 

 But in his defense, he just didn’t want to learn what it was to have you, just to end up losing you. He didn’t want to discover how it felt to be loved by you, only for that feeling to get replaced with your resentment. He didn’t want to wholly understand the bliss of you being with him when you were there and present, only to forget it once he came to understand the ache of you leaving; when you were gone. 

 Now, however, he sees that he fucked up. Can see how narrow-minded he was. How his actions, no matter the intent, didn’t come across the way he wanted. That the outcome didn’t go as he planned. 

 He’s able to recognize that if a plan can stray and an outcome can change– there can be infinite endings. Good ones, bad ones. Realizes that if pain is possible, so is bliss. Understands that sadness and happiness go hand in hand and that if there’s a chance for one, there’s a chance for the other. 

 It’s kind of black and white, all or nothing, one or the other in its own way. In a way that Jeongguk hasn’t fully grasped yet, but in a way that he wants to try and learn.

 The consequences of his actions and mistakes can be felt physically. It’s a visceral ache, an apologetic longing, an emptiness within him– and it seems like it never goes away. Like there’s this void inside of him that can’t be filled. Like an essential piece of him is lost and has gone missing, leaving a hollow vacancy behind his ribs until he finds it again. 

 He knows it’s melodramatic; that things end between people that care about each other, that they get over it, and that they move on. It happens all the time. Every single day. He knows– because he cared about Dasom, wanted her– and still, he watched his marriage fall apart right in front of him. 

 Jeongguk’s never compared you to her or her to you, and he doesn’t start now. But, he does liken the want; tries to differentiate between the way he wanted her and the way he wants you. 

 Because it’s the same feeling. Want. 

 But it’s distressing; so confusing because he can’t wrap his head around the same fucking feeling not feeling the fucking same. 

 It almost instills an anxious uncertainty within him; causes him to question himself a little because he believed he had a good understanding of what it is to want, of how it feels to desire. An understanding of what comes with all the feelings that are akin, too.​​ What it feels like to lust after, to crave, to yearn for, to long for, to wish for.

 But apparently, he doesn’t.

 Maybe never did.

 Because it seems that the only thing he’s sure of now, when it comes to want, is that wanting Dasom didn’t feel like wanting you does. With you –the want, the desire, the yearning– it’s so different.

 Come to think of it, Jeongguk wouldn’t be surprised if that novel distinction played a part in his hesitance; that it had something to do with why he pushed you away, why he chose to never let himself have you. 

 Somehow, you turned feelings he thought he truly understood into feelings that had a sense of ambiguity to them. Feelings that he was suddenly so unaccustomed to that they seemed almost alien –in that anxiety-riddled self-doubting way– because it felt like he had no experience with them, had no idea how to even begin to approach the different that was you. 

 Taehyung told him he was being a coward. And Jeongguk admitted that yes; he was being a coward. Internally confessed that he was scared to lose you. But as things are falling into place, finally clicking for him, he thinks that the cowardice might have also stemmed from a fear of having you because he didn’t know how to. 

 Because while you were fresh and exciting –making Jeongguk so brash and so eager– that newness subsequently made you so unlike what he was comfortable with and sure about –simultaneously making Jeongguk so reluctant and so scared. 

 Only because different is new and it’s strange and it can seem alienating. Different is simply unfamiliar and anything unfamiliar is always a little, maybe a lot scary. Naturally intimidating and unnerving. 

 He comes to the conclusion that it’s not a comparison. The want. It can’t be, really, because he has nothing to compare it to. He’s never known an appetency as unique as the one he has for you. 

 The varying wants he’s come across during his life and relationships can’t be compared, but they can be different. And they so clearly are, that Jeongguk’s inability to make sense of it is almost embarrassing. His friend telling him that it’s possible for him to care about things in different ways comes to the forefront of his mind. 

 “You can… want things… differently?” 

 Jeongguk feels stupid, so thickheaded because he’s asking for assurance and clarification about concepts that are supposed to be common sense. He wonders when he let his way of thinking get so off-kilter and how many preventable fuck-ups he’s made because of it.

 “Obviously and most definitely.”

 The sheer amount of thinking he’s had to do, and the inordinate number of thoughts he’s had to comb through are taunting him with a headache. Dull pounding edging at his psyche; his mental and emotional capacity almost running on empty. Yet, he’s not sure he could shut his mind off even if he wanted to. 

 He’s on the cusp of it. So close to putting the pieces together. On the brink of figuring out the riddle of you and him that seemed cruelly unsolvable; like a sick joke with no punchline.

 Jeongguk knows that he wanted Dasom. He knows what they had was good, fulfilling, and comfortable in its own way. But in that same breath, he knows that while it may have been good, it was never blissful; that it may have been fulfilling, but it never made him feel full; that even though it may have been comfortable, it never felt warm. He doesn’t regret it, but he doesn’t miss it either. He doesn’t want it anymore; hasn’t for what seems like ages.

 When it came to wanting you– Jeongguk didn’t know until he learned. 

 Of course, he knew that what you had was good. What he didn’t know was the extent of how good. Only when he determined that it was so good that it was sublime and unlike any mirth he’d known before, to a degree that he’d never felt before– only then did he learn that what he had with you was bliss. 

 He knew it was fulfilling. That being with you gave him what he needed. Scratched the itch, fed the hunger, served the purpose that a ‘fun and casual’ fling was meant to. But he didn’t know being with someone could be so abundantly and satisfyingly rewarding; until he learned that the fulfillment could reach excess; that he could become so full of you that he was overflowing. 

 He knew it was comfortable– what you had with him. But he didn’t know being with someone could be so serenely content, dreamily domestic– that it could make the comfort become something he could physically feel. Not until he learned that you were the embodiment of comfort; that when he touched you, what he was looking for became tangible. That when he touched you, he was touching the warmth that lived inside of you. 

 He didn’t know humans could be homes until he learned that sensations could be envied. 

 He didn’t know he would regret it; didn’t know he would miss you so much. He didn’t know that the different, unfamiliar, scary want would turn into this habitual, heartsick, delicate yearning.

 Jeongguk didn’t know anything until he learned.

 And he’s learned that he wants to try.

 ~~~

 A rough, choked sound sputters from his throat when he feels a few heavy thumps on his back.

 “There, there,” a voice consoles lazily.

 Jeongguk promptly breaking down and melting into a puddle of tears after admitting he fucked up and wants to try and get you back is enough for a tipsy Taehyung to move from his place across the table to the unoccupied one to the right of the younger. 

 He’s able to peer inside now, his back no longer to the house, and he sees Jimin. He looks a little worried, a wrinkle between his brows as his eyes flit between Taehyung and Jeongguk, who’s got his head down as he cries into his folded arms atop the table. 

 He shoos Jimin, and now Yoongi with a knocked out Solmi on his hip, away with a dismissive flick of his wrist, giving them a look that says: I’ve got this.

 With fingers digging into the sides of Jeongguk’s neck, in a supposed to be soothing way, Taehyung asks, “So what’s the plan, Gguk? Whatcha gonna do to get her back?”

 Another weeping sob is the response he gets.

 He nods to himself. “Right.”

 It’s quiet for a small blip of time before Jeongguk whines, “She never answered my text. She could be dead for all I know, like she could have gotten into a crash or something and it would be all my fault and–”

 “Have you seriously not looked her up to check on her?”

 “–she doesn’t have Facebook– and I would just have to live with that. And I would deserve to live with it. The guilt–”

 “Of course, she doesn’t have Facebook. She’s not ancient,” Taehyung explains with a roll of his eyes as he pulls out his phone from his pocket, “She probably uses Instagram or something. How do you spell her name?”

 Jeongguk’s perked up, his red eyes and splotchy face now curiously peeking over Taehyung’s arm. He quietly spells your name out loud and watches as the letters appear one by one in the search bar. A few profiles get tapped through before Jeongguk’s small, sharp inhale lets Taehyung know he found the right one. He willingly hands over the mobile.

 The account is public, but Jeongguk’s not sure if that’s better or worse as he takes in what your feed consists of. There’s an assortment of things; pictures of yourself, some with your roommates, a few scenery ones to break up the monotony. One or two of the small succulent he gave you.

 There are also some of him. Of Nari.

 He finds his thumb moving on its own, tapping on a photo of tiny hands with tiny painted nails.

 “Don’t accidentally double-tap; that likes the pic and we’re using Iseul’s account.”

 Jeongguk chuckles. “Why do you let your 8-year-olds have phones and social media?” he asks, turning to look at Taehyung, who is still looking at your account. “What happened to playing outside and reading books?”

 “Times are changing Ggukkie,” Taehyung muses, “Landlines hardly exist and I want to be sure that they can reach me, you know? Besides, it has parental controls… If you look at Iseul and Haneul’s followed accounts, it’s all just video game stuff and anime shit…” It’s quiet for just a second before he adds, “They could probably give you some cheat codes and tips since you’ve been spending so much fucking time on the PlayStation lately.”

 Jeongguk’s bony elbow digs into Taehyung’s bony ribs.

 After a small wince, Taehyung asks, “That’s Nari?”

 It’s phrased like a question, but to them, it’s obvious that it’s her. But to anyone else, they would have no clue that the baby is his daughter. The photo was taken from a higher-up angle; besides the baby’s little manicured hands, it’s just her baby-soft, wispy hair pinned back by a teeny pink barrette, and the chub of her rosy cheek visible. He thinks he recalls the day you took it. 

 You had just shown up at his place. No invite, no scheduled plans. 

 When he opened his door, he saw you standing there with your too-small hands holding a too-full make-up bag, and a too-big smile on your too-pleased face declaring that it was the perfect day for a Spa Day. 

 You were determined, and you left little room to argue. He didn’t, of course. But he wouldn’t have either. Not when you were right there on his doorstep, practically buzzing with how excited you had been. You were almost giddy; just so happy and eager to spend time with not only him but also his baby.  

 Jeongguk remembers sneaking little glances at the both of you while he dutifully cut the cucumbers you had asked him to. You were sat on the floor, criss-cross applesauce, and Nari was on the couch in front of you. She had her chunky, stout legs dangling off the edge and her round, little toes right in your face. 

 Bubble Guppies was on the television, so Nari was occupied and mostly still as you painted her nails a bright shade of corally pink. Messing up only once or twice. Just when the baby giggled and clapped her pudgy hands and when she squealed and kicked her plump feet. 

 By the time Nari was put down for the night and tucked snug as a little bug in her bed, you and she were twinning; your salon-done acrylics repainted in the same polish. He remembers clearly because he helped you with your weaker hand. 

 Also because somehow, he ended up matching as well. Funnily enough, you had managed to get him to agree to a single finger of his being painted as well. The pinky on his left hand. 

 Persuasion might have been a talent of yours. Your charmed kisses convinced him, as well as your rapt, eager touches. The conniving sweet-nothings you recited into his ear, were compelling, too. 

 Yeah, maybe you were persuasive. Or maybe Jeongguk was just easy. Always too weak for you. 

 His heart yanks in his chest at the memory and he forces himself to pause the mental replay before it stops being pure and starts being indecent. 

 Jeongguk’s eyes flicker down to the caption.

 spa day 💁‍♀️💅🏻👶🏻🐛👨🏻‍🍼

 He feels the slight shake of Taehyung’s body when he chuckles next to him, and the corners of his own lips turn up too as he opens the comments.

 flickthebinna: did u have a baby? 

ocstagram: not yet… 🤨🤰

flickthebinna: ?

 Heat crawls beneath his skin and his cheeks flush pink and Jeongguk can’t stop the clumsy, confusedly pleased laugh he lets out as he clicks back to your feed. 

 Despite the next picture he taps on being bleary, it’s evident that you’re in a car and that there is a palm resting on your thigh. 

 The car belongs to him, the familiar interior lights of his Mercedes glowing purple in the photo, the luxury logo on the steering wheel too well-known to be mistaken regardless of the quality– or lack thereof. So naturally, the hand on your leg belongs to him, as well. But like the photo of Nari, no one would know who’s hands are on you or who’s the owner of the car you’re in. Except for the person themself. Even the tattoos on his knuckles are indecipherable due to the poor resolution. The picture looks like it may have been taken on accident or while you were moving– grainy and pixelated and motion-blurred. 

 It’s captioned with a simple, eloquent: SKRRRR

 “What does that mean?” Jeongguk mumbles aloud, moving to the comments again.

 Taehyung hums next to him. “An onomatopoeia for the sound a car makes, I think.”

 He grunts in acknowledgment as he reads.

 jadedjade: that is a sugar daddy car if i ever seen one 🕵️‍♀️🧐

ocstagram: he’s not my sugar daddy 🙄🤚

ocstagram: he’s my best friend 😌👍

flickthebinna: ok but can he fight 

 Jeongguk finds himself smiling again, but this time it’s a little sad too. It was posted just a couple of months ago. Reminds him that regardless of how drawn out it feels like it’s been, in reality, you haven’t actually been away from him for that long at all. Makes him recall how quickly something good can go bad.

 “Alrighty!”

 The cellphone gets plucked from his hands by Taehyung, who’s sensed the change in ambiance. “I think that is enough checking in for tonight,” he says.

 Jeongguk doesn’t put up much of a fight, instead sighing and looking towards Namjoon’s place again. He’s not sure how much time has passed, but inside he sees it’s been long enough for the group to wind down. Almost everyone gathered in the living room, something playing on the tv. Probably one of the many Christmas movies that get played far too soon after Turkey Day. Hoseok’s got Nari on his lap, and one of the twins tucked into his other side.

 “I’m surprised Nari’s still awake,” he muses.

 “You know she’s fighting it, trying to hang with the big kids.”

 “Gonna be very grouchy in the morning,” Jeongguk groans. The annoyance is feigned though, and the smile in his voice gives him away.

 Taehyung laughs lightly for a moment before he’s yawning, his words jumbled and rolled together he tries to get out, “I’ll pull your Secret Santa name; let me take her for the night.”

 Jeongguk is an expert at understanding hard-to-decipher words, so he knows what was said and is quick to say no.

 “C’mon,” Taehyung presses, “Just for tonight. She’ll be fine, and you could use some time by yourself.”

 “I have time by myself every other week.” 

 “Touche…”

 It’s quiet for a couple of beats before Jeongguk is saying, “The answer is still no, but why do you think I could use some alone time?” 

 With shoulders brushing his ears, Taehyung shrugs. “You just worked through a lot of tough stuff. The alone time could be a good opportunity to sort through everything.”

 Jeongguk hums. 

 “You could start thinking about what you’re going to do about ___. What the first step is, what you’re gonna say.” 

 Taehyung takes a second to look at Jeongguk’s profile. It’s quick, and the latter attempts to keep his face neutral, but the tense way the corners of his lips pull down isn’t missed.  Jeongguk can’t mask the hesitant unease, and Taehyung has enough social awareness to pick up on it and know that it probably means that Jeongguk might not be ready for that just yet.

 “Or… Or you could… cry yourself to sleep?” he tries. He thinks for a split second before he decides to run with it. “I know you’ve like– been crying, but if you were alone? You could really let go, you know? Wouldn’t have to hold back like you’ve been trying to.”

 Taehyung is met with an expression that is not only unconvinced but also unamused. 

 He is nothing if not resilient, though. “Or you could even jerk off to that video you have of the both of you! You could moan, Gguk. Loud.”

 “Oh– I don’t– the video um, I haven’t–” Jeongguk sputters, trying to deny the use of said video. His hands waving to and fro a bit, hectic. An uncomfortable tinge to his features.

 It’s true, though. He doesn’t use it. Hasn’t even once since the fight. He figures he might as well delete the video. It makes sense, especially if he doesn’t watch it. Figures it should have already been deleted. That would have been the right thing to do. Figures he’s only human, too.

 “I did not ask, and I do not want to know. Nor do I care,” Taehyung interrupts, “Just think about it, though. A loud, lewd, lascivious, lecherous jer–”

 Almost like he forgets his momentary embarrassment, Jeongguk’s expression veers straight from uncomfortable to unbelievably judgemental. If the look on his face could speak, it would be telling Taehyung that he is stupid. “I can literally jerk off –loudly– 2 weeks out of the month. Are you daft?”  

 “Intelligence is subjective,” Taehyung’s bony fingers flick outward dismissively, “But my insistence is not! C’mon, don’t be selfish,” he pouts for emphasis, “If I take Nari tonight, I can use her to get the boys to sleep early. Can pull the old ‘baby’s bedtime is everyone’s bedtime’ card.” 

 Jeongguk presses his lips firmly together, fighting a smile, but they quirk up at the corners in spite of himself. “You’re a bad dad.”

 Taehyung grins back, mischievous. He makes his voice stern and comically parental. “ ‘We all have to sleep when the baby sleeps. We don’t want to wake her up and ruin her dreams, do we?’ ”

 They laugh softly together before it naturally dies off, the atmosphere back to being more or less mellow and light. 

 “I know you, Gguk,” Taehyung starts, “And I know that you don’t need a break. But I also know that a break wouldn’t hurt. Might even do you some good. Sneak away now while she’s occupied,” he encourages, “You know she’ll cry if you say bye.”

 Jeongguk frowns as he feels himself giving in. Admitting that he is tired. Considering that it might be nice to be able to go home and head straight to bed without the time-consuming dad routine. He loves it, of course, and he’ll miss doing it– but after the night he’s had? He feels a little bad but tries to soften the guilt by thinking about what Taehyung said. The thing about him being important to himself, too. 

 He looks back to the house again, eyes scanning till they land on his baby. She’s slumped, clearly tired and he thinks she may be asleep already but then Nari yawns, a tiny balled-up fist coming up to rub at her eye.

 Jeongguk smiles, soft and wistful. Before his brows are furrowing and he’s turning back to his friend with an appalled, accusatory glare. Taehyung’s previous heartfelt advice coming to mind reminds him of something else his friend said. Something less heartfelt.

  “Wait– the video? How did you–?”

~~~

The feel of his bedding brushing against his skin makes him shiver. Causes frissons– excited little chills blooming all across his body. He kicks, trying to maneuver the sheet down and down until it’s off of him. Repeats the actions once more but with his briefs, now. Down and down until they’re off of him and he’s bare.

 Jeongguk’s home is quiet. A little cold. 

 This time, it’s the brisk, air-conditioned draft in his bedroom that creates those chills. The bumps are small, just barely raised. Could only be seen by someone who looked at him closely enough; felt by someone who touched him aptly enough. 

 His exhales are stuttered and sharp as his body trembles; the constant tremor is faint, almost imperceptible, and caused by the lust simmering just under his skin. His lashes kiss the highs of his cheeks as he blinks his eyes shut; a worthless attempt at grounding himself. His lips grow damp as the pink of his tongue darts over them quickly; something he naturally does when he gets worked up like this.

 His thoughts are running rampant as he thinks about all the unintentional things he’s doing, all of the visceral reactions he’s having. About those bumps on his skin. 

 Jeongguk thinks about how the restless waver of his breathing and the overwhelmed fluttering of his lashes and the antsy way he’s licking over his lips and the minute, barely-there texturing of his skin– how all of those things are just little ways that what’s inside of him is coming out; how it’s becoming. 

 It shows how intense and how keen the arousal stirring within him truly is. So charged and carnal that it’s emerging as actions that are eager and visible; as reactions that are hot and tangible. So real it can be seen; touched.  

 Going straight home and straight to bed– that was Jeongguk’s intention. He swears it; swears he was just so tired. Swears that he almost bypassed doing his skincare and brushing his teeth completely in favor of succumbing to tiredness. Swears was so truly drained from the night and from how much he ended up missing you, thinking about you. And from how, at some point during the night, missing and thinking meshed until they blurred into exhaustion. 

 Sleep was supposed to have been instantaneous. As soon as he laid down in his too-big, too-empty bed inside of his quiet, cold home– he was supposed to have been down for the count. 

 But his home is as lonely as it is quiet.

And lonely people do lonely things.

They think lonely thoughts that are actually just memories of times when they weren’t lonely at all.

Jeongguk doesn’t think he ever felt lonely with you.

And he wants you as much as he misses you.

His fingers shake with it as he finally wraps a hand around himself. Cock laying flat on his tummy, heavy and hot. It’s dark in his room, but he’s flushed probably. Leaking definitely. 

 The tip of his tongue swipes over his lips again before he nibbles on the inside, contemplative as he rubs his index finger on the wet head, teasing. Pulls the plump of his bottom lip between his teeth completely; makes a conscious effort to stay aware enough to not gnaw them raw. But in the back of his head, he knows it’s for naught. When he wakes up tomorrow it will be with red bitten lips and a guilty conscience. 

 Hell, Jeongguk’s guilty now.

 Everything about him depicts it. 

 His mannerisms are already cloaked in shame and it’s only just started.

 From the way he turns his face into his shoulder when he finally completes that first, full stroke. Foreskin dragging when his hand goes from tip to base. The soft thump of the outside of his fist hitting his lower belly sounds so loud– vulgar in the hushed space. 

 To the way he squeezes his eyes shut so tightly that small white spots begin to come and go in the dark– as if he thinks he might be able to block out all of the sordid things he’s imagining if he tries hard enough.

 Twisting on the upstroke has him rolling his lips between his teeth before he ends up parting his mouth and voicing the softest, most sweet-sounding sighs. The lilting breaths are pretty and whiny even to Jeongguk’s own ears and he feels himself grow warm with a flush. 

 When the tip of his cock spits out a few heavy drops of precum so soon, he gets almost flustered. His demure, wanton sighs quickly shift to meek, bashful whimpers.

 Because it’s embarrassing. Just how fast the mere thought of you gets him going; so hot and so bothered. 

 The pace of his palm is fast, pumping up and down the length of his cock. Instinctually chasing that high as slick clicking noises get louder, audibly mixing with his moans, the rustling of his movements. The first hint of that telltale heat flickers in his lower belly faster than he expects and faster than he hopes. 

 He doesn’t want it to end already. Reasons that if he’s going to give in to this again –into getting off with nothing but the thought of you to finish him, into stomaching the consequential regret that comes after he cums– he wants it to at least be worth it. Wants to milk it and make the pleasure last as long as possible. 

 So he clings to his last bit of self-indulgent resolve. Takes his hand off and moves it away. 

 Precum’s just pouring from the slit when his cock snaps back to his tensed belly; leaking enough that the pink head makes a lewd slap when it hits his skin. He’s hard enough that the tip rests just below his belly button. 

 Jeongguk lays still for a few, letting the needy ache in his gut settle as he puffs out soft pants. Trails his nails lazily over his skin; a gesture that taunts him as much as it gets him ready. Warming him up for his own touch again.

 He’s sifting through his memories of you when he gives in and allows himself just a few small squeezes over his length. His grip tight and pulsing. Not quite edging, but… playing. Indulging maybe; sating moreso. 

 Trying to take the edge off just enough to prolong the pleasure and drag it out as he thinks back to the time he got you off with just his hand in your panties, his fingers toying with your clit. 

 It was sleepy and slow, soft in the way that morning playtime always was with you. Him returning the favor; taking care of you after you took care of him. 

 Started with him quietly reminding you of how good you made him feel the night before. Him sweetly kissing praise into your still-warm-with-sleep skin. Finished with you rocking into his touch until you came quietly for him. You remembering to thank him after, your words whispered sweetly in an airy, far-away tone.

 Jeongguk begins to stroke gently then. Just lightly touching with only his fingertips as he thinks some more. Until he ends up lingering on the first time he had you. 

 The memory prompts another shame-riddled rush to surge through him. He recalls how he braced himself on the newly-decorated wall behind him when you pressed your hand against him, his hips rutting and grinding into your small palm. How the wall supported him while he finished so quickly, too quickly. How it held him up while he came, making such a mess in his pants. 

 Recalls how you had to brace yourself on the same wall when he got down on his knees for you and tasted your cunt for the first of many times, his lips sucking and his tongue licking. How the wall supported you, just like it did him, while you squirmed so impatiently, so greedily. How it held you up while you came, just like it did him, making such a mess of him all over again

 The paint on the wall behind you had barely had enough time to dry. Was wet still on the opposite side of the room. 

 The opposite side of his daughter’s room. 

 God, it’s sick. So perverse and deviant and just wrong, but there’s something to say about how badly he must have wanted you. How terribly he must have needed you to take you like that, in that setting. 

 Then Jeongguk’s letting go. Letting his thick, engorged length drop to his abdomen.

 The heavy way his cock flops back down when he eases the tension in his hold– it doesn’t really hurt… it’s not exactly painful when it thumps against his tensed tummy again. It feels more like a muted, dull pang in his cock. Almost pleasant? It feels good if anything– but the general sensation reminds him of a time he ached. A time when his cock actually did hurt. 

 It’s the time he had you at his work, against his desk. After you had him in his office chair. 

 Jeongguk can’t stop his cock from kicking and twitching when shivers run down his body– it’s a natural reaction, mostly. Kind of like how his hands going up to tweak his nipples is mostly a natural reaction, too.

 You had asked him before– if there had ever been a time when he was too worked up, if he’d ever felt so good that it became too good, if you could be the one to make him that way. It was an offhand, spur-of-the-moment comment; he figured it was just dirty talk. Nothing more than racy words spoken to turn an already heated phone call into one that was even hotter. 

 So he went along with it and told you that no, he hadn’t ever been too worked up or felt too good. Humored you and promised that yes, the first one to ever make him feel so good that it was too good, too much, could be you.

 Then the phone call ended, and he hung up, and he pretty much forgot about it

 Until now, that is. 

 Something’s got him stuck on that conversation and something’s got him linking it back to that time in his office. 

 He wonders if maybe that wasn’t just you ‘getting back at him’ for the work party because you were ‘mad at him’. Wonders if making him ask permission, getting him to beg, riding him till he came, not stopping even after he did… was really you trying to live out the phone call. 

 Was that the first time he felt so good that it was too much? That it hurt?

 But as soon as he entertains the possibility, he has second thoughts. Reconsiders and thinks about how that might have been nothing. Yeah it was too much, and it hurt, but he has no clue what you meant by wanting to ‘take care of him’ or ‘have your way with him’. That time in his office could have just been the beginning, just you going easy on him, barely anything.  

 A soft moan he can’t hold back colors the air.

 What would have happened if he hadn’t been able to break those cuffs and get the upper hand back?

 Would you have kept going? Was that your intention all along? Did he ruin your plan when he got his hand around your neck? What would it have felt like if you had just kept going and going and–

 Jeongguk must have subconsciously moved his hand from toying with his nipples back to stroking his cock because he doesn’t remember choosing to do so. But he doesn’t correct himself and he doesn’t stop either because he’s jerking his cock fast– just as fast as his heart is pounding and it feels so nice. So fucking nice that he thinks it’s gonna make him cum.

 And he wants to cum, but he knows he wants it to last more.

 So he tries to keep himself together with a tight squeeze at the base of his cock before he pulls his hand away. His cock throbs, jumps slightly before pulling tight to his belly.  

 He’s worked up so he’s squirming a little and taking deep breaths that come out a little shaky. His hands are shaky too when he brings them above his head to tug at the pillow underneath him just to keep them off of his body.

 Would it have just kept hurting? If you had kept going? Would it have just kept getting worse until it became too much? Or would it have started to feel good again? Even better maybe? 

 Jeongguk’s fingers dig into the down of the pillow, and he turns his head into his arm trying to muffle his whine. His hips pull down, dipping into the mattress before slowly rolling into the air, into nothing. The breaths he pants against his bicep are hot, and when he sinks his teeth into the meat of it he does it hard enough for it to hurt just a hint.

 Because fuck– he doesn’t think he’s ever been this affected. 

 Sure he’s been horny, worked up, turned on. Whatever. 

 But bucking into nothing? Whining like he’s in heat? Trembling and leaking and entertaining things that had never even crossed his mind before? 

 No, he’s never lost himself in lust enough for that to happen.

 It seems there’s a first time for everything, however. 

 And maybe that’s what it is. Having a first with you. Trying something new for the first time, learning new ways to please, and make each other feel good. You being his only experience, and him being yours. Knowing each other in ways that nobody else does. 

 There’s a newfound urgency to the way he makes a move for his cock again. A flawed clumsiness to the way his fingers stumble when they get caught on his sticky skin due to his haste. An almost inexperienced awkwardness to the way he fumbles when can’t seem to get a good grip on himself due to his eagerness. 

 Because the way his heart starts pounding faster in his chest, and the way he has to grip at the base of his cock and keep himself in check again is so telling and oh, he’s so sure that’s what’s got him like this. Sweaty and wanton, antsy in his too-big, empty bed with one hand pumping his dribbling cock, and the other reaching between his legs to palm at his balls, his fingers reaching down farther to press and rub against his taint. 

 Yeah, he was worked up before; his memories of you enough to get him hard and panting. But they weren’t enough to shake that guilt. 

 When he started to wonder, though? When he got curious enough to flirt with the idea of you being the first one to make him feel so good, that it was too good, till it was too much? When he began to fantasize about it? That’s when he got shameless. 

 As soon as he cums, so will the guilt. That’s a given and he’s well aware. But right now, the want is making him feel almost feverish, depraved and he’s touching himself with hands that are so greedy, so self-serving. Unblushingly selfish for his pleasure as he imagines it’s you touching him.  

 “Ah– nngghhh, fuck–” he gasps, but it’s soft. His voice breathy and faint.

 In his head, you’re being a little mean. Your hand on his cock is loose, teasing, and lazy. Giving him just enough to feel like he needs to cum, but not enough to make him cum. 

 “It’s okay,” you tell him, “you can use me, make yourself cum…”

 It sounds sweet because it’s you, but even that is laced with something snide. It’s almost mocking. And his head is spinning because it mirrors so many of the times he’s had you, but it’s so different because right now, in his head, you’re the one that’s deciding, controlling. Telling him when its okay to cum, how to cum, letting him cum. 

 His fist is loose, just like yours is in his head, and he fucks up into it, his foreskin dragging with every push and pull. The fingers of his other hand are still toying with his hole, grazing the cinched muscle every time his hips rock into his hand, but he’s trying to mimic the way he thinks you would play with him; his touch deliberately gentle, a little curious. 

 When he’s just rocking his hips, the rhythmic brushing over his taint and his hole is teasing. But when he starts to get eager and needy and begins fucking his hand faster, the sensation is almost constant– feels so good paired with his thrusts, his thoughts.

 And Jeongguk’s gonna fucking cum. So close after all the teasing and edging and playing with himself that he’s done– its inevitable, now. His balls pulled tight and his cock rock hard in his hand. Wet and drippy and swollen and so sensitive.  

 His body is so tense that he’s shaking, his sweaty chest flushed and heaving stuttery inhales as he works for it. 

 “Oh my god– please–” Jeongguk pleads softly with himself, his body. You. His voice is laced with a desperation he’s never heard before. 

 The burst of precum that shoots from the head is enough to know that he’s there, that he couldn’t stop it now, even if he wanted to. He feels that pull in his lower belly, and his cock fattens up even more, gets even harder and Jeongguk knows its flushed such an angry shade of pink. And fuck it’s such a steady build-up. When he thinks it feels good it just gets better. 

 “Yes, yeah–” he pants.

 Jeongguk’s mouth parts in a small ‘o’, and his brows knit together and his eyes are squeezed shut so tight and if he concentrates he can picture you– can visualize your tiny hand wrapped around him bringing him closer and closer. Can imagine how focused you are as you go between looking at his face and his cock. Can almost hear your voice in his ear when you tell him that he was so good, that he can cum.

 He’s able to get out a choked, “Cumming, I’m cumming–” before finishes. His body convulses, curling in on himself a little more each time his cock jerks, shooting hot, thick stripes of white up his abs. His orgasm gives him that spacey high, makes him almost lightheaded from how satisfying it is. 

 But lately, getting off is nothing if not a routine. 

 Jeongguk feels a very specific and familiar type of heaviness as he pats around to find his briefs, does a half-assed job of cleaning himself up with them. Then he moves to the other side of his bed where the sheets are cooler and not damp with sweat. Cuts the routine short with a dry-swallowed sleeping pill. 

~~~

hey... long time no see... am i right... anyway yeah im probably knocked out w a sleeping pill too right about neow bc i am sooo scared about posting this :)) gah v nervewracking i must say... ik it was a bit wordy but i just rly wanted to explain why jk did what he did n his thought process for it n yeah </3 hoping to have part 2 (oc pov/reconciliation <3) out in the next couple weeks, am like halfway done w it....  anyway i rly hope u liked it!! pls pls pls like, reblog, comment, send an ask if u did~~ eager to know what u guys thought n would love to hear from u okayyy bye! 

[seokgyuu]

HI I LOVE UR WORK GENUINELY I WAS WONDERING IF U COULD DO A DRABBLE BASED ON THIS REEL, I DONT KNOW IF U CAN SEE IT LIKE THIS BUT JYK NOTHING NSFW IS SHOWN IN TH REEL ITS JUST THE PREVIEW(?) sort of idk how to explain it. It goes like the guy holds a really powerful massager in his palm and puts his index finger in a glass of water which shows the power of the massager, so I was thinking this scenario with any member of seventeen u like. JUST SO U KNOW U DONT HAVE TO DO THIS ITS COMPLETELY UP TO U AND AGAIN I REALLY REALLY APPRECIATE UR WORK AND U

https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cwc6bhup_ut/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

uhm hello. this has been sitting in my inbox for a while but I just saw this again and was like... yes! I'll write that. so, here you go!! i hope it's to your liking!!! and of thank you for your kind words!!<3

The Reel this is inspired by (kinda sfw??)

Pairing: Wonwoo x Afab!Reader

Smut Warnings: Fingering, usage of a massage gun as a helpful tool, multiple orgasms, squirting

MDNI!

Word Count: 555

Wonwoo is just a man. He is a man and he has ideas and sometimes this leads to things like these.

Things that have you crying actual tears as he holds the massage gun against his finger, the vibrations going straight to your abused clit. It’s too much and at the same time not enough. 

Your legs are shaking and your loud moans are filling the room because, how on earth did he even come up with this?! 

“Fuck, look at you,” Wonwoo’s eyes are glued to you behind his glasses, mouth dropped as he literally can’t stop staring at you and your fucked out form. You’ve cum already, twice! And he isn’t letting you go, he isn’t letting you breathe! And to make matters worse, he suddenly moves his hand and slides two fingers inside of you, the massage gun still right there, making his whole hand vibrate on the highest fucking setting.

‘That’s it’, you think, ‘this is how I die.’

You don’t die though - you just start crying harder, your pussy literally sucking in Wonwoo’s fingers like a starved man downs his water. 

“Shit, how good does this feel, baby?” He asks and you would have loved to answer him - if only your mouth would do anything else but moan and scream and just not form any coherent thought. Your brain is mush if it’s even still there in your head and not already gone. 

You feel yet another orgasm approach at rapid speed, Wonwoo’s long skilled fingers paired with the vibrations too much to handle inside of you. You screech and squirm, your hips are moving against his fingers and Wonwoo is practically drooling as he watches you, his ever so perfect girlfriend, lose all sense of control.

And then, you cum. But you don’t just cum, your body shakes and your crying intensifies because what the fuck is that feeling and why is everything suddenly so incredibly sensitive and - did you just pee?

Wonwoo’s cock has never been harder and never been closer to cumming untouched. You’re squirting all over his hands and over the gun and over the bed and he thinks this is heaven. The sounds you make are only the god damn cherry on top. 

“E-enough, f-fuck, Wonwoo, please!” You beg your boyfriend and he somehow hears you and comprehends your words even though he doesn’t really know how. He pulls his fingers out of you, his fingers that are full of your cum and he turns off the gun, throws it to the side and brings his hand covered in everything you to his hard cock that is still hidden behind his sweats and starts jerking himself off, the feeling of your juices around him enough to make him cum three strokes later. 

“I don’t think I can walk,” you say when you finally catch your breath. You haven’t even noticed Wonwoo getting himself off, too busy with trying to find your senses again. Wonwoo falls onto the bed next to you, hand now covered in both of your releases.

“I didn’t know you could do that.” He says. “I didn’t know I could do that.” You reply back. Then, the two of you fall into comfortable laughter, staring up at the ceiling and knowing full well this definitely was not the last time this happened.

[girlwithalotoffeelings]

Anymore more A/B/ O Bakugo brain rot? I too have contacted it

Sis I have plenty, I think it's contagious.

A/B/O Bakugou Katsuki

Insecurities

Bakugou, the alpha courting you, is pissed. You've have been avoiding going to the gym with him for forever and he's sick of it. You always come up with some excuse of why you can't...

"Sorry, I've gotta help my mom with something."

"I have some paperwork I'm behind on."

"I'm really tired today."

"I think I pulled something on patrol earlier."

And today, he's finally sick of it.

"I'm going to the gym, do you wanna come?" He says from the kitchen counter as he fills his water bottle.

"I'm sorry Ki I have t-" you start, not even looking up from your laptop until you hear him slam his bottle down on the counter, making water droplets fly.

"What?! What else do you have to do that's so fucking important that you can't spend two hours with me at the gym?" His hands were braced on the counter, his jaw tensed, and his shoulders squared.

You were both silent, both of you not knowing how to break the tension. You got up off the couch and walked over to him behind the counter, releasing a calming scent into the air. You heard him take a sharp inhale through his nose and exhale it, letting his shoulders relax a bit.

You slowly ran your hands up his sides under his tank top to feel his skin, coming to wrap around his waist as you lean your head against his back.

"Do you not like spending time with me?" You hear him say in a firm tone as he stares straight ahead.

"That's not it." You whisper against him in a voice smaller than normal.

He shifts, bringing you to his front so he can look at your face.

"Then what is?" He looks down at you, resting his arms on the counter behind you, effectively caging you in.

You don't look up at him; this being the only time you were less than game to make direct eye contact with the man that has been courting you for the past 6 months.

He could tell it was something serious, his usually feisty fire cracker, now looking uncertain. He leaned down more, bringing his head over your shoulder, placing the scent gland just behind his ear, right by your nose, giving you no choice but to inhale him each time you took a breath. He raised both of his hands to rub up and down your arms, trying to soothe you.

"What is it, baby?" His voice is soft, calm, and patient. A complete 180 compared to how he is with everyone else. This side of him is reserved just for you.

"I don't like being watched..." Your voice trails off. He pulls back from you just enough to look into your eyes that are now looking up at him through your lashes. He silently urges you to go on.

"When I'm working out, I don't look... pretty. I look like a drowned mole rat most of the time. My cellulite shows, I sweat profusely, I don't look good." You weren't looking at him anymore; your head turned to the side. To your surprise, you hear a deep bellowing laugh from the man in front of you. You felt strong arms wrap around you as he continued to chuckle softly under his breath.

"Baby, I dont think anyone's supposed to look good while working out. I'm sorry for laughing but, I thought it was something a lot worse, so this is kinda a relief..." He pulls back with a small smile on his lips.

You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you look away from him, suddenly finding the lamp next to the couch very interesting.

"I thought that you were drifting from me..." you hear his gruff voice whisper. The declaration making you forget your shyness instantly, eyes snapping to him.

"What? Why?" Safe to say you were a little more than very concerned, what had you done to make him think that?

"I don't know," he was looking everywhere else besides your eyes, afraid he might divulge all his biggest insecurities if he wasn't careful.

"I guess I thought you realized you didn't like me as much as you thought you did. That maybe you'd..." There it was, the big seedy underbelly of his small but bountiful list of things he was less than happy with himself about "I don't know" He shook his head with a sigh letting his gaze drop down, giving up trying to put it into words.

"Katsuki, I dont just like you. I love you." You voice was gentle and calm as you spoke. His eyes snapped up to meet yours immediately. What the hell did you just say. You just said that you loved him, and he was losing his absolute shit. That was the first 'I love you'. You had said it to him. His lips slightly parted in shock as he listened to you speak.

"Yeah you get on my nerves and sometimes I wanna strangle you. You can be rude and standoff-ish, but that's what drew me to you in the first place." You lifted you hands to lock then behind his neck.

"You liked that I was rude?" He said with an amused and almost breathless scoff that turned into more of a chuckle.

"I liked that you were unapologetic. That you don't care what anyone thinks of you. You're... real. You're tenacious and determined. You know exactly what you want, and you fight to get there. You're ambitious and honest in everything you do." Your thumb have found homes at the edges of his jaw under his ears as you rub against his stubble. "And even though you are a bit mean sometimes," He's dumbstruck, completely speechless, how have you been watching him this closely all this time. He was sure that he wasnt that serious to you as you are to him. It almost brings him to tears just hearing you talk about all the things you love about him. You lean in to place a gentle ghosting kiss on his lips, that leaves him wanting so much more. "You can be soft and sweet when you really wanna be." You pull back slightly and rest your forehead against his. "And I'll go with you to the gym if it means that much to you." You chuckle lightly and run you hands through the hair on the back of his head.

"Nah, you don't have to. I don't want to you feel uncomfortable. Even though I think you look beautiful all the time." A small smile lazily graces his features as he wraps his arms around your back pulling you closer against him.

"Maybe we can workout together at home sometime?" He says into your hair, enjoying the feeling of you against him.

"I'd like that." You say into to knook of his neck.

A couple beats of silence goes by of you two just holding each other before he speaks again.

"You just said that you love me." He says pulling away slightly to look at you.

"I did, and yes, i did mean it." You were looking up unto his eyes enjoying this close intimacy that is only for you both to know about.

He moves a hand from your back to the back of your neck and pulls you in for the most amazing kiss you've ever had. It was slow and gentle but so full of passion and love. You separate but don't pull away completely, still holding each other close. "I love you, more than you know." He whispers against your lips.

You adore this side of him, the side that only the two of you know exists, the side of your relationship that only you two understand. It's out of the public eye, no pictures taken to capture the moment. It only lived on inside your shared memories together.

Gosh, all the feels for this man. I headcannon that he would crave this sort of soft intimacy from time to time. Bro istg I need me a man like this.

In any case I am back from my unintentional 3 month hiatus. I am so ready to write again, SFW and NSFW so if you would like to request my inbox is always available. And for those who have requested while I was away I'll be going through and pumping out content from there during the next few days.

May the next good dick you receive also be attached to a good man 🙏♡

[kairiscorner]

hihiii pookie :DD!!

tw// mentions of depression

i'm wondering if you could maybe write a comfort fic about miles 42 with a reader who hates asking for help even when theyre clearly suffering in silence because they were taught to just 'suck it up' and deal with it alone as a kid?

you dont have to write this if you dont feel comfortable with it <33

Thank you pooks :33!!

hi pooks @jrrantss <:DD oh man, okay so i was kind of that kid back then too (though i was a big crybaby) it's like the adults around me didn't fully comprehend why i was feeling the way i was, so in response to that, they basically condemned crying at home or in front of them. i'm sorry if you went through something similar or, hopefully not, something worse ;-; i hope this provides you some comfort, and in a way, might also let you know you aren't the only one going through stuff like this. i'm here for you pookie, all the time <:)

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

you can be honest with me. – miles 42 x reader (angst + comfort)

nothing went your way this week, hell, you couldn't even remember a week in your life when anything felt right, when you didn't feel that you were holding yourself back from letting go of everything that felt wrong, awful, and just... painful. you were too good at keeping secrets, too good at lying about how you really felt; and that was something you hated about yourself, how you found lying as your first nature, not your second. you lied to people when they'd ask you if you were doing okay, if your day was going alright–you always gave them the answers they want to hear, that you were fine, that nothing was wrong.

but when everything just comes crumbling down, and the cracks in your facade begin to show and become more obvious... you get more and more defensive, more and more angry, more and more... scared and worried about these feelings that are hurling themselves at you so quickly that you can't even begin to understand why they're affecting you so badly–why people can see the bare you now if you just turn your face to look at them or open your mouth to speak; and your boyfriend was the first person to see you this way, vulnerable, yet trying all you can to avoid that vulnerability while you're crumbling down.

"hey," miles calls out to you in a soft voice as he sees your back turned to him as you kept working on your assignments, hunched over at your desk with your brows furrowed together and your lips curved into a scowl. you had been avoiding him for a few days now–at least he thinks you might be avoiding him–and have acted very distant, very... out of it recently. you didn't turn your head around to face him, which prompted him to continue talking, hopefully so you could find a reason to face him and his worried eyes. "you've, um... you've been busy lately." "uh-huh." you hummed as you tapped the end of your pencil against your desk impatiently, racking your brain for the answer to the questions written down that all seemed to blur together as the shittiness of the previous days just irritated you even more, and the worst part was... you couldn't hide the fact you can't mask ot anymore.

miles' face contorted as he got more and more worried about you, not knowing why you were acting starkly different than the usual you, or the only you he was familiar with. he extended his hand out to you as he walked over, looking at your cluttered up papers on your desk and the smudged up marks on the paper from your erasures. "...is something wr–" "everything's fine, i'm fine, i'm just peachy!" "you don't sound very convincing." he said, his voice returning to his nonchalant, cool tone as he took a small glimpse at your face before you turned away from his field of vision.

he sat in the chair next to you and wrapped his arm around you in an effort to comfort you. "cielo, sonething's up with you. are you... are you sure you don't wanna let me help?" he asked you with a soft voice, hoping he didn't overstep any boundaries as you slowly turned your head to show him a bit of your face. there were tears in your eyes, though you didn't dare let miles see them fall down your face; there was a sob stuck in your throat, but you didn't dare let miles hear it escape your lips. you had been there before, being severely troubled for more things than just homework–but never had you been advised to do anything than the age old phrases you've heard all your life as a kid: 'get over it.'

you took in a deep breath and tried to tell him what those words you've exhausted yourself from saying all the damn time–that you don't need any help, that you've got this, that you're okay... but your body's betraying you right now. it's betraying you for turning your back on your own feelings, but that... was never your fault, never. as you let out the breath you've been holding in, the hot tears came streaking down the ends of your eyes, your scowl morphing into a sad frown as you felt yourself slowly come undone and all the raging thoughts in your mind boiled down into one thought right then and there: 'fuck no, i am far from okay'.

you had one tear come down, then two, then... a whole waterfall of tears came pouring down your eyes as you finally released that sob you had been desperately keeping in. you had released it out into the air as it mingled with miles' shushing and gentle whispers as he held you while you leaned against him, wailing as you tried telling him how nothing had been right lately. you choked out in broken cries how you desperately wanted a way out of everything horrible that's been happening but you didn't want anyone else to be bothered by your 'stupid, insignificant problems'.

"i just... want to be okay... but i can't even pretend to be okay for at least one damn day." "please, stop pretending, mi vida. it's hurting me how you... how you think it's strength to rake up everything by yourself... when you clearly need help." miles said with a cracked voice as he felt himself choke up at your melancholic state. you cried even more out of guilt that you saddened miles, but he kissed your forehead, cheek–your whole face as he murmured words of reassurance, of love, to you to calm you down and comfort you. "you're not alone, not anymore... i don't care if some idiots in your life want you to deal with alone, never to bother them–you're never a bother to me, got that?" he mutters to you as he holds you close, letting you sob into his shoulder, your sobs getting louder and louder all the while. he shushes you and rubs your back gently, kissing your wet cheeks as he keeps reminding you that no matter what you're going through, what problems you're having, he's always going to be there for you–be the help you'll need, one way or another.

"please, don't be scared, mi vida... you can be honest with me. i promised to love you with all my heart, protect you, and... always be the help you'll need."

he whispered to you as he looked into your eyes and gently wiped your tears away and leaned his forehead against yours, hoping you would be more lenient, more understanding towards yourself and your own needs; and that you wouldn't hesitate to ask him for help. because even if you don't ask him to, he'll be there to help you, be there to guide you, be there to comfort you the best he can. because he loves you, and knows you deserve more than what you think you deserve, that you deserve... the best of the best, and nothing less.

tags !! @ii01vq @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @k4tsu3 @solecitoszn @toneystank-3000 @fiannee @popeheywardssecretgf @lovefrominaya @onginlove @meowmoraless @q2ie @zalayni @anikaluv @conitagray

[taocard]

HI POOKIE

I WAS WONDERING IF U CAN WRITE A LEON FANFIC ABOUT HIM TAKING CARE OF FEM!READER WHILE THEIR SICK

YOU KNOW WHO THIS IS BUT IM STILL GONNA GO ANON

LOVE U BAE XOXO

♡ I grant a wish for whoever summons me and take one thing as a payment ♡ 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: bbbggggg I'm so sorry this took me so long and if it's out of character since I don't know how to describe his character that well :(( I hope this helps fill your brain rot a little! 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Leon Kennedy

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

⊹ due to all the situations Leon has been put through, he's very self aware of things going on around him ⊹ you could say he’s always on alert. Especially when it comes to you ⊹ he's the type of guy who would notice you're sick before you do ⊹he hears a cough from you and his eyebrow will raise from where he’s seated “Are you feeling alright?” he’ll ask you ⊹ doesn't matter how you reply, he's very suspicious you're getting sick ⊹ and when you're rubbing your forehead with a frown… ⊹ he’ll put the back of his hand against your forehead, not listening to any of your excuses you're coming up with “I really dont think I'm sick. I'm pretty sure the headache is just from looking at an electronic so much-” “You have a fever” ..and of course right then and there you had to have a coughing fit ⊹it's not that you don't want him to take care of you. It's just that…well, when you were sick last time he tried to stick a needle in your arm ⊹this is because, by the rare chance that leon gets sick on a mission, he’ll just stick a needle with solution into his arm and he's better in no time ⊹but you hate needles

⊹luckily, you bought regular medicine, so he just feeds you that instead

“Are you sure? The shot would make things end much faster” he’ll say

“Yes. definitely. Absolutely.” you replied

“Okay…”

⊹ he only suggested the needle once again because he never likes seeing you sick.

⊹he looks like a pouting puppy with the way his arms are now crossed as you drink some water after you ingested the medicine

⊹ it seems Leon was not off of work because he has a new assignment. To defeat the evil fever >:((

⊹Leon is very good at comforting you and showing he's here for you with just his actions alone

⊹ he’s cooking you food that you like and that's easy to digest. He's grabbing you things before you even realize it.

⊹ swear to god, its like hes keeping tabs on you like your his patient

⊹ but he doesn't verbally show it. Which is kind of nice. Because when your sick your sensitive to light and sound

⊹ he gets the bed all set up for you. If you have stuffed animals he's aligned them in a order that created room for you to move around but you can still see them

⊹ i see him leaning down to check your temperature when you're laying in bed. His arm propped by your head, hand on your forehead, and faces inches apart

⊹ you don't really know if its your fever that's making you more flustered when he gets all close or if this is how you normally are

⊹ and when he's done checking your temp. He will press a kiss to your forehead and get you a new water bottle since you've seemed to run out of the ones he placed nearby from earlier

⊹ Leon would be the best person to cuddle with while you are sick

⊹ sure, at first you were worried that you were going to get him sick, but at this point he's bound to have built an immune system to a mere fever.

⊹ hes spooning you from behind, keeping you close with his strong arms wrapped nice and snug around your tummy

⊹if you're having trouble sleeping because of any pulsing pain or your just restless, he does not care what you want to help you sleep, he's going to deliver

⊹ for example if your holding him tight and snuggling into his chest. That is fine. If you're gently holding his hand against your cheek because you like it, that's fine too.

⊹ overall he's amazing at taking care of you. 

[the-s1lly-corner]

I'm humbly requesting that a Spot x Reader. Where reader is a small time thief that runs into a the spot is unsuccessfully tries to rob them, but Reader just turns the tables. Then is like "ok you are so bad it's pathetic. You want to come with me lol?"

Spot w/ a criminal reader!

off topic from the ask but im listening to old music from like, middle school era, BROO i forgot all about half of these bangers anyways ueueueue ive been wanting to write something like this but ive kinda been swamped with asks so im glad someone requested this!! hope this is alright! honestly i kinda just bully spot in this post

"somebody call an ambulance..! ..but not for me-" basically

honestly if you wanted to you could probably beat him up and rob *him*, even if you dont have any powers or fancy tools

but.. given how he immediately wilted and backed up and

oh my god did he just whimper

god hes pathetic

wet paper bag

anyways

you cant help but to feel bad for this loser

so against your better judgement you offer to let him tag along with you in your own crimes and

oooh my god hes a lot worse than you thought

for one it doesnt even look like he knows how to use his own powers and-

oh he actually doesnt

after a particularly pathetic display of malice he kinda just

slumps over

its kinda like looking at a wounded puppy

so, you just kinda try to comfort him, or at least try to hype him up

anyways you guys keep bumping into each other after that, you both get to know each other better. you learn about how he became the spot and how hes trying to learn how to use his holes

pause

okay you really tried to keep a straight face anytime he bluntly said hes trying to use his holes to do things, he just says it so. casually, with no second thought that it may sound dirty

anyways

you cant exactly help him with learning how his holes work since you yourself dont have them

BUT you can help him with learning basic self defense, how to scope out people to rob, and so on

this is assuming the reader is a basic robber

im sorry my thoughts are kinda everywhere rn so i dont really. have a solid train of thought

moving on, imagine spot gets more confident in himself and his skills as a criminal and you two become this little villain duo

i think thatd be cute, actually

again like i always remind yall, spot doesnt really have anyone left in his life so hed leech onto you for dear life. its been so long since hes had someone in his life, and the fact its someone whos actively siding with him and rooting for him? again you didnt specify if this were to be romantic or platonic so this post is vague

but i feel like regardless hed form a little crush on you; like

hes just a silly guy like that

anyways

yeah!!

i wish i had more ideas esp since this is an idea ive been thinking of for a while but my brain is jello today, melted jello

[ghouljams]

Can you imagine what it must've felt like to be Valeria's demon? They must be living the life, getting to have sex with Valeria AND be their special recon/info retriever

-🧪

I have tried to think about what Valeria's demon would do, who they'd be, and I am a little stumped. Currently I'm thinking her demon is called Hide, and I want to say Valeria earned her demon but I just know she'd try summoning one if she heard about them. Maybe she found out about Alejandro having a demon and decided she needed one too.

You mark down a clipboard, watching crates disappear as you do. Shadows slink over the containers, swallowing them whole until you've gone down your entire list. You hand it off to the enforcer that's in charge of distribution and give him very clear instructions to not touch anything. You know he will, they always do. Pendent.

You check your watch and let your bonds carry you back to Valeria. She rolls her shoulders as you settle in her shadow, tips her head to one side, then the other in faux boredom. You know better than anyone that even when she's quiet she's working overtime. Her mind is always churning to fix leaks and plug holes in whatever operation she's running. You rest your chin against her shoulder, feel her move to brush her hair back, fingers scratch your head. Unseen to the other cartel heads at the table.

"So you want me to fund, what?" Valeria tosses a folder onto the table, shrugs, "Some little sting operation? Pilfering weapons from the Americans?" You purr against her back, eyes glued to the faces of the men around the table.

"Throwing them a bone every once in a while keeps them off our backs," One man explains, as if Valeria isn't already aware.

"So," she draws the word out, "that's your best plan? Feeding a meat grinder spare parts in the hopes of a little fire power?" She leans back against the chair, and you, incorporeal as ever, like the think she's leaning back against you. Valeria tips her head, "I already get all the weapons I need, why should I go after the ones I dont?"

"Everything is set to ship out," you whisper in her ear. You can see her lips twitch, just barely a smile for your work.

"Same reason we do anything," Another man laughs, "the profit."

Valeria hums, and points her finger at him, her thumb raised in an approximation of a gun. She makes a "bang" noise, raising her hand for the recoil. You hide all your shadows in his skull until it pops.

The men on either side of him jump up from their seats with loud swears as his brains splatter the table. His body collapses forward, eyes dangling. Some of the men cross themselves, Valeria kicks her feet up on the table.

"What a shame," She looks at her fingers, inspecting them with a bored sort of expression, "I almost liked him."

"What the fuck did you do?" Someone asks, you don't really care who, you're busy watching two idiots try to get brains off of their nice suits. You wave a hand, and hide every bullet in the room. Well, every bullet save the ones in you handler's gun. Which is a handy trick when everyone is so damn trigger happy.

Several guns raise, pointed at Valeria.

"Nothing any of you could prove," she folds her hands in her lap with a smile, "or that anyone would believe if you told them."

"Bitch," one of the men spits. Rude. You hide his tongue, watch the blood drip from his stunned lips as he chokes. The rapid click of empty guns fills the room. Valeria tuts, shaking her head.

"All that machismo," she snaps her fingers and you feel your shadows ripple as your obscura falls, you bare your teeth at the nearest cartel boss, "really isn't going to help you much, eh cabrónes?"

You feel the chain length of a heavy leash burn into existence, following the clench of Valeria's fist. You quite like the show you both put on. The way all of the men in the room, so used the being the grim reaper in their little world, come face to face with a true beacon of death for the first time and seem to lose all their blood. Valeria drags you back until you tumble into her lap, hooks her finger in your leather collar and makes you look like a lapdog.

"Why don't you sit down before another of you makes a mess?" Valeria advises. And just like a pack of well trained dogs, they do.

[tachimichishrine]

i’ve found someone who writes for tachi?? omg?? you’re writing is so amazing i love it! can i req an x reader where she’s like chuuya’s subordinate in the pm so she’s higher ranking than tachihara but takes an interest in him bc, hello?? who wouldn’t? so she starts to play specific moves that draw them closer together (ngl im thinking mastermind by taylor swift if yk the song) and when they’re finally dating he confesses that he knew what she was doing the whole time? aka intelligent slightly manipulative reader thinking she’s being slick abt it. thank youu!

<welcome to the corner of tumblr where we worship tachi and have no shame about it !!!!!!!!!!! OH FUCK YEAH I love this ask I love the idea and I love you, i've never heard that song before but woah it got my brain juices flowing, sorry it took centuries but here you go luv ♡>

"mastermind"

⫭◦⨝◦⫬

tachihara michizou x fem! chuuya's subordinate! reader

warnings: mention of drugs/alcohol and drink spiking (dont try this at home kids) ; a little bit of gore/torture but it's one sentence ; for some reason there are some elements of kind of sort of yandere!reader that just manifested themselves grgrgr but barely i promiseee ; fluff + plot ; cursing n intended lowercase

it was the middle of the night, and your phone wouldn't stop ringing. you tried snoozing it, turning it on silent but it would keep vibrating on the night table aggressively. against your better judgement, you picked it up and took a look at the caller id.

"boss man 🤏🧍"

well, you couldn't ignore that.

"what the fuck do you want you short little shit, it's 2 in the fucking morning," you grumbled, then cleared your throat before actually pressing the green icon to pick up the line. "hello, boss. is there anything I can-"

"cut the bull, where the hell are you?"

"um, at home? sleeping?" you raised a brow that he couldn't see. "am I supposed to be somewhere?"

"you- forget about it. just get here, now."

now, he was really getting on your nerves. "get where? I can't read your mind, boss, what-"

he hung up.

you didn't have a problem with chuuya in general; he was a decent guy, sometimes. you got assigned to work under him in the fallout of his partner, the famed demon prodigy, disappearing. of course, he didn't want anything to do with you at first, and you would've felt the same if mori wasn't breathing down your neck to keep on it. so, you kept showing up on his missions a few minutes before he arrived, the information already extracted or people already beat to a pulp.

he still wouldn't budge, so you had enough of working so hard just to be his subordinate and exploded at him one day. he could barely get a word in as you yelled loudly and ranted about his inability to accept help. while he was speechless in the aftermath, you just sighed tiredly, handed him your phone number and said that you weren't going away anytime soon and you'd appreciate it if he would just let you work for him already. time passed and eventually you got his trust.

what you didn't get, however, was an explanation for why you were rushing to slide into clothing fit for the outside world and making your way to the port mafia headquarters. it was the only place he could mean, so you ran over there with guns strapped to your thighs and safety off. you had to plan for whatever the hell might've been going on, but all you saw was a nearly empty lobby.

you cursed under your breath, irritated that you busted your ass for no reason. from the corner of your eye, you found a familiar face and approached him.

"hirotsu," you walked over with a pissed expression, "do you know where chuuya is?"

"oh, chuuya isn't here. he told me he'd be sending someone to deal with it," he said following a polite nod of the head. "he needed the black lizard to perform a mission, but he's unavailable tonight. so, he said that he'd send you."

"he's unavailable?" your eyes nearly bulged straight out of your skull, but you caught the slight squint in his face. "oh. he's drunk out of his mind, isn't he?"

hirotsu nodded solemnly. "I'm afraid so. mori only gave him this assignment tonight, and he was already intoxicated when he got the call. I was with him when it happened, so I suggested he call you."

"oh, he so owes me one after tonight," you chuckled, less angry now that you realized he was probably just collapsed on his couch at home and will have the worst hangover the next morning, which you could easily mock him for. well, at least that brightened your mood a little, aside from seeing the black lizard in action. you'd heard of them, ordered massacres through hirotsu but never been there to witness it. that would definitely be fun. "sooo, what exactly do I need to do? just be there or something? yell out 'fire!' like some kind of medieval war commander? 'cause I've always wanted to do that."

the old man was slightly amused by all of your excitement regarding the concept. he said that he just needed someone to be there in case, and you were technically of a higher ranking than he was. you told him that he was such a stickler for hierarchy; he retorted that you sounded like some guy he worked with named tachihara. who that was, you hadn't a clue, but you were assured he'd be there alongside another leader of the battalion.

the rest was a lot less interesting than you thought it would be. you strolled into an abandoned warehouse where the enemy was based with a small army behind you, and you stood there while they lined themselves at your side and waited for your word. you went against your inner child and ordered them to fire in a normal voice rather than a stupidly dramatic one, then you just watched the bodies fall. you glanced at the side to see hirotsu, who was intently scanning his surroundings to make sure there were no tricks. by his side, you saw a masked person and another man who was half-asleep, leaning against the wall.

you fell hard to the sound of gunshots.

maybe it was the way his entire body leaned onto the worn concrete, the way his foot was flattened against the wall and his hips slumped lopsidedly, the way his v-neck plunged down his chest from under his coat, the way his jaw sat tight and clenched despite his slender neck bending backwards to rest the weight of his head behind him. you pulled your gaze off of him since you were afraid of staring, but everyone was already dead and hirotsu was commanding the nameless suits back to hq. the man opened one eye - fuck, they were a glossy amber, some of the prettiest you'd ever seen - and scoffed while he followed them out. he walked like a textbook delinquent, hands in his pockets with awful posture, and you just watched him.

shit, what just happened? you exchanged some brief words with hirotsu as he thanked you for showing up, but all went over your head. you blurted out the question before you could think twice.

"which one of them was tachihara? out of the two who came with us. since, y'know, you were mentioning him earlier..." since, y'know, you couldn't get the picture of your mystery man out of your head and you needed to know his name.

following the affirmation that it was indeed the man with the bandage on his face, you at least had a name as you flopped back into bed at 5 in the morning. you didn't sleep, and you sure as hell couldn't get your heart to stop beating so fast.

something had unhinged inside of you, and all you knew was that you were going to have him.

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"boss, what'd'ya want me to do to 'em?" you yawned, half-asleep as you sat next to the hungover mafioso who was holding some kind of mystery drink in his hand while the other shielded his eyes from the light of day. you came over to his apartment - something which you knew he hated but was in no position to protest right now - and were simultaneously nursing him back to health and being a pain in his ass. "if word gets out that we annihilated the organization but two of their executives are still alive, our rep would take a hit."

"can you shut the fuck up," he groaned, body slumping further onto his fancy kitchen counter while you continued to laugh internally at him and his slightly pathetic situation.

"look, boss, I'll tell you what," you leaned down to his crouched over height and placed a cautious hand on his shoulder, "I'll take care of it. the whole thing. I just need your permission to grab the black lizard if I need 'em for support, but I can make sure it all goes away. and you can just sit today out and spend all day in bed if that's what you want. how does that sound, boss?"

he grumbled and passed out again; you took that as a yes.

you smiled to yourself as you picked up the unconscious body bridal-style, walked over to his bedroom and set him down. he complained loudly in undefined slurring, but you just shushed him and tucked him in under the covers. he was still trying to argue with you when you removed his hat, placed it at his bedside and then gently kissed his forehead and wished him a good nap. it was a little ironic just how much your boss felt like an uncontrollable younger sibling, but you would never say it to his face as you enjoyed the use of your unfractured limbs.

you tiptoed your way out of the apartment and the building, despite being fairly certain that not even an earthquake could disturb his slumber, with parts and pieces of your plan coming together. what you said was true, you did need to take care of those surviving executives. but you didn't really need the black lizard.

you only needed him.

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tachihara heard a gentle cocking of the gun as you glanced in his direction, waiting confirmation that he was indeed ready to storm the facility. you had managed to track down the runaways and corner them in their hideout, and decided you'd call for "backup"; you asked hirotsu for someone who was good with guns and mid-range fighting, since you knew that if you didn't specify, you might end up with the other commander of the black lizard. you didn't like leaving things to chance.

you tilted your head to the side, giving the signal for him to go ahead and sneak down the next hallway. he was eerily good on his feet, light steps as if he were made to be a spy. you did a lot of infiltration work on chuuya's behalf (his face - rather, his short frame - were too easily recognizable on the streets), and every second got you thinking of ways to subtly suggest to him that he provide backup once more on any one of your numerous infiltration missions.

for his part, tachihara didn't seem to be noticing all the coincidences lately. he didn't appear particularly deft or clueless, just indifferent as if he truly couldn't care less. instead of a faint pang in the backrooms of your heart, you felt a sense of challenge, like it was your mission to get him to fall for you because the good things in life are worth fighting for. besides, where's the fun in it if he wasn't playing hard to get?

the mission went by in a blur. you mimicked his mannerisms, ensuring that your movements were perfectly synced with his so that your gunshots felt more like a dance, synchronized bullet ballet. when all was done and the bodies were dropped, you shot him a faint smile.

he raised a brow, perplexed at your joy among the sea of blood, but you began clutching at your chest like he'd shot you with his glare and he chuckled a little bit. you could've sworn you fell in love with him all over again.

"say, I was wondering..." you thought out loud as you crouched down to the body of the target, pulling out a knife from your calf, "are you new? in the port mafia, I mean. I've been here ages and I don't think I would've forgotten someone who shoots like you do."

leaning on the wall while he watched you carve out their skin, peeling off a specific section that had their organization's signature tattoo, tachihara scoffed. "what's it to you?"

"just makin' small talk, don't get your panties in a twist sweetheart," you snickered, albeit screaming a little internally; you didn't expect him to be so resistant. you bagged the proof you needed to show your boss that you got the job done, then rose back to your feet. "alright, we're done here. thanks for the backup."

"wasn't like it was my choice," he rolled his eyes, although you didn't sense any true irritation in his voice. good, this is good, you can work with that.

"wasn't your choice, huh?" you repeated to yourself out loud. "how 'bout this, then: I'm gonna go grab a drink, so it'd be your choice if ya wanted to tag along, no?"

he murmured something about being busy and you tried not to let him see you frown as you walked out.

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this was your fifth "coincidence".

coincidentally, tachihara ended up needing to hand-deliver a message to chuuya, but you coincidentally bumped into him and promised to pass it on. he looked at you a bit suspiciously, but didn't say anything.

coincidentally, you were out drinking with hirotsu on the same day he was going to join the old man. you wouldn't go so far as to say that you played a part in the veteran's sudden diarrhea that left you two alone, but then again it was quite odd that you slipped some sort of substance in his drink right before. not that anyone saw, of course.

coincidentally, weeks of coincidences paid off. every time you'd run into him, need the black lizard or the other way around, he was starting to loosen up. you had a number of inside jokes and he spoke a little more on missions.

this time, you had to go negotiate with a foreign organization from which you imported an important number of your firearms. chuuya was available to go, but you pleaded with him to let you do this on your own, making up some lie about how sending an underling instead of an executive would show them that they are not the ones in control. he seemed skeptical but let you go.

soon afterwards, you whipped out your phone to dial his number.

"it's so unfair!" you complained to tachihara, groaning loudly as you combed through your closet for the right outfit for the occasion. "like I get it, he's busy and all, but dumping a mission on me last minute? sheesh, that's a cheap move, especially from chuuya. I've got 2 hours to figure out what the fuck I'm going to say to these people."

you left the phone on speaker while you pressed dresses against your figure, glancing in the mirror to see if it was the right one. "and it's a big organization, too! I have no idea what I'm going to do if things go south except get my brains blown out."

lies. if things went south, you would easily be able to make your way out unscathed. you were the right hand woman to a port mafia executive, not a scared little girl, but he didn't need to know that right now.

"would'ya like me to tag along? if they see one person, it might look like you were sent as a sacrifice, but if we're two, they'll know we mean business," he offered, as planned. you pumped your fists in the air and contained a squeal.

"hm? oh, you don't need to do that, tachi," you said softly, sliding out of your clothes and into your form-fitting outfit, making sure to check out your ass and reaffirm that you looked stunning. "wait! I'm just kidding," you giggled playfully, "it would mean a lot if you did. thanks."

he chuckled the faintest amount, and you made plans for when and where to meet. you told him that it was a high-end restaurant, so he'd need to wear something fancy enough to blend in, but of course the high-end restaurant was your idea. you'd planned it all in advance, setting up a corner in the back of a place that the mafia had under their thumb and inviting the organization there.

a date, it was a date, and it didn't matter if he didn't know it.

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"you look stunning, dear." he grabbed your hand and kissed the back of it, looking up with soft eyes you'd never have expected. he pulled out a seat for you and called the waiter to get you a cold glass of water.

unfortunately, "he" was the executive from the other organization, not tachihara.

awkwardly, your plus one stood in the corner with the rest of the guards, shooting you occasional glares that basically screamed, "why did I volunteer to do this, again?" you just laughed internally and told yourself that you'd take him out again as a way to make up for it, which was your goal all along. you adored it when all the pieces fell into place.

the negotiations were flawless. the man across the table from you seemed to be very willing to cooperate, and you figured his slight cracks at flirting might've been a part of it. the other part was that he looked positively jet lagged and you might've put a little something in his wine to mellow him out. you were sure he would've reached the same conclusion if he was sober, this was just a harmless little nudge in the right direction.

"10% increase on the price for a 20% increase on the quantity of firearms imported, then," you reiterated, smiling sweetly at him while he agreed to double what someone in their right mind would ask for. "lovely doing business with you, sir. I'm glad this didn't have to escalate."

he smiled softly, offering you his hand to help you up then nodding his head towards the exit so his goons would follow him out. you looked at the piece of paper he'd slid into your palm, a phone number etched into it, then watched him looking back at you with a wink. for a moment, you could've sworn you'd almost forgotten about tachihara.

"that was boring as fuck," he strolled over to you, clicking his tongue as he complained about his feet hurting from standing there for so long, saying that he wouldn't have worn a goddamn suit and tagged along if he knew all he would be doing is watching you flirt with some guy."

"that," you stressed, pocketing the number but trying not to think about it, "was not flirting. if I was whoring myself out for the mafia, believe me I'd put myself down with my own hand."

"oh yeah? brave words for a woman with a dress that tight on her ass," he scoffed, crossing his arms before he realized what he'd just said.

"tachi, you lookin' at my ass?"

he seemed at a loss for words, huffing angrily as he walked out and you laughed to yourself. he was so cute when he got angry.

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tachihara michizou was not an idiot.

he, however, did not know what to make of your behaviour towards him.

all these run-ins, all your conveniently-timed missions where you were down one person, every text you seemed to send at the perfect time. he knew your gaze lingered on him and he knew that you wore that dress for him, but he couldn't be sure about it.

confirmation came when he was casually chatting with chuuya over drinks.

"my damn subordinate has been so fucking weird lately," the executive slurred, gesturing for another glass while he toyed with the empty one. "reminds me of that fucking dazai... always plotting some kind of shit..."

"she sounded kind of pissed with you 'cause of that last gig with the firearms dealers," he retorted before downing his shot and slamming his fist on the counter out of adrenaline. "since you dumped it on her."

"huh?! the fuck you mean, dump it on her? she was practically beggin' me for that job, said she didn't want any backup either. I'm telling you, tachi, that chick's gone mad."

so it was a lie, when you called him, complaining. he wondered what else was a lie, but then he wondered why you would lie about that.

as if on cue, a message popped up on his phone with your name on it.

"are you free tonight?"

so he wasn't imagining things. for some reason, it got his heart beating, thinking about the fact that someone would do that for him. but, before he could respond, another ping:

"I got shot sorry lol I have no idea why I made it sound like I was asking you out. could you bring a first aid kit or something? thanks a ton!!"

he concluded on the fact that you were confusing, and that he wouldn't say anything about it, especially since you probably think you're incredibly slick about it. instead, tachihara excused himself from a very drunk chuuya and said he had to go.

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"ow, ow, ow! fuck, why don't you just pour the whole damn bottle on there, while you're at i- fuck!"

the whining was hard. you had to do it manually, making sure you actually sounded like you were in pain when really, your "fever" was from all the heat of feeling tachihara's hands on you as he dabbed the wound.

ironically enough, this wasn't planned. you genuinely did fuck up, the man you never called seemed to want revenge because he sent a few people to kidnap you. you only got grazed while you took care of all the henchmen, but it still hurt like a little bitch.

he was the first place your mind went to, as always. you managed to get yourself home but you couldn't reach the spot on the bottom of your ribcage where it sliced open without feeling a lot of pain.

and so, you just turned it into an opportunity to get him in your house, sitting on your couch, his hands on your skin that was barely covered by your shirt. the alcohol he was pouring onto the wound hurt but you couldn't feel anything except pure ecstacy.

"say, you're not bad at this," you fake winced as he pinched the skin together and just put a bunch of superglue on it. "you got... gah, you got experience as a medic or somethin'?"

"how exactly did this happen?" he ignored your question and instead helped you up slightly so he could wrap the bandages around your torso.

"remember the guy from the other night? well, he gave me his number and I never called, so he got butthurt and sent some goons to fuckin' kidnap me. or kill me, I'm not sure. I didn't really pause to ask 'em."

he looked as if he almost didn't believe you, pulling down your shirt and gently tapping on the spot he bandaged. "there, you're all set."

"thanks again," you smiled at him, groaning a bit as you sat upright. "I know it's late and you were probably doing some other shit."

then a slight pause. "if you want to crash on my couch instead of walkin' home, I don't mind."

the walk wasn't long, and he didn't feel tired at all, but he didn't tell you that. he just helped you walk over to your bed then got himself comfortable on your sofa.

you'd never been happier to get shot. maybe the universe was finally on your side, in its own weird way.

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the wound was fully healed and tachihara was yours.

it was the perfect excuse to him check on you, to have him come over and stay over as "protection in case someone tries to kill you again". both of you knew your excuse was bullshit, your plotting to get him by your side so painfully obvious now that he was getting closer and closer to you. by the time he was making visits on his own and smiling at you in the hallways at the port mafia, you didn't need to do anything anymore.

it was a wordless confession; both of you walking in the streets at night, going nowhere and not saying much. it was cold and you could see both of your breaths swirling in the air. you blinked and suddenly your faces were close, too close, and your body was leaning in on its own. his lips tasted like something your mind could've never guessed.

nevertheless, you were still addicted.

something about the kiss felt effortless, too. like you didn't need to do anything, say anything to get him to wrap his hands around your hips and pull you in close. this was the way it should be, easy and effortless. like you could wait patiently and he'd fall in love with you all on his own.

"have you seen my holster?" he called out weeks later as you laid down on your couch, reading a book as he looked around for the item.

"it's over here!" you called out, the holster expertly hidden in between the cushions because you wanted him to come over to you and find it. as he walked over to you, watching you wave it while dangling on your finger, a teasing look on your features.

"you're a conniving little shit, you know that?" he sighed with a soft smile, glancing at your hands as you set down the book by your side then sitting by your side. "if you wanna talk to me, you can ask like a regular person, y'know?"

his wide smirk as he looked at you pout, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you fake-sobbed into his chest. "you're so mean, thinking I'm lying!"

he grabbed your chin, gaze directly settling onto you with a look that said not to bullshit him. "you think I don't notice? when you kept bumping into me, us getting paired up on missions, even that time you said chuuya 'dumped' that job on you? yeah, you're cute but you're not a great liar."

you furrowed your brows. "if you knew, why didn't you say anything?"

"'cause I wanted you to tell me yourself."

"asshole," you pouted, laughing as you leaned towards him and kissed the tip of his nose. "I just didn't think... never mind, it worked, didn't it?"

he rolled over, laying you down on the couch and settling himself on top of you, making sure you were trapped. "being all cryptic now, aren't we?"

"maybe," you muttered between kisses, wrapping your legs around his hips and pulling him deeper. "... maybe... maybe you were just... I dunno, so pretty, and I thought 'fuck, he'd never go for me' and... I don't know, it's not important..."

"aw, look at you, gettin' all soft 'n mushy," he chuckled into your neck, smiling at your words while his teeth graze the tip of your earlobe. "keep talking 'bout how out of your league that I am."

"oh, shut up," you whispered, grabbing a handful of his hair and bringing his lips back onto yours so he would stop talking. "I'm tryin to open up here, you smug dipshit."

he grinned as his hand went down in between your thighs, parting them and opening up your legs. "I like the sound of that."

you squealed playfully and rolled him over, but the couch wasn't wide enough and you both fell onto the floor with a dull thud and a frenzy of laughter.

"seriously, though," he brushed your hair out of your face and pulled your hips so you were snug on him while you caught your breath and lowered yourself to kiss him again, "you're talkin' nonsense, baby."

"mmn, if you say so," rolled right onto his tongue. you believed his words, or maybe you didn't, but it barely mattered. he was here now, in your arms and telling you everything you wanted to hear. he said that he knew of your antics, yet the truth was that he couldn't do a damn thing about it if he wanted to.

all because you're a mastermind.