#they never seem to keep to their mouth shut for my sake

[blossom-hwa]

a very fine line, indeed [8] | c.bg

pairing: Beomgyu x fem!reader genre:  fluff, angst, enemies to lovers, regency era!au, nobility!au warnings: mentions of assault, abuse, cursing, period typical misogyny word count: 11.2k notes:  — updates every M/W/F at 8pm EST until the series finishes — assault/abuse scenes are not graphic, but please heed the warnings and let me know if any of it is romanticized or just written in poor taste--I assure you I did not mean it, and I will fix anything needed. — inspiration taken from an amalgamation of different bridgerton stories - let me know what easter eggs you find! — story takes place in the same universe as my duke!yeonjun and earl!taehyun fics - check out the link to the series below for some more easter eggs :) In a society where it only takes a year for a young woman in search of a husband to be considered out of season, it is no wonder that by your third year out, you are desperate to marry. Known as one of the beauties of the ton, such a task should not be difficult for you—but with an absent father, no dowry, and a reputation centered around your inability to keep your mouth shut around one certain Beomgyu Choi, your prospects are more limited than you’d like. While you cannot recover your family or your wealth, however, the one thing you can try to control is your reputation. So when the third season rolls around, you resolve to keep your distance from Beomgyu Choi, your childhood enemy, and the man you hate most in the world. Enter Beomgyu Choi, second son of the Kensington Viscountcy, one of the most eligible bachelors in the ton. His older brother, cousin, and good friend have all recently married, leaving the mamas to salivate at his doorstep for the chance of marrying one of their daughters to him. When Beomgyu walks in on a particularly traumatizing moment between you and one of the most unsavory men in the ton and learns of your desperation to marry, despite your history of enmity, he proposes you a devious deal—to pretend to court you. It seems like a winning situation for both of you—more gentlemen will take notice of you, enhancing your prospects, and he will have the ton’s mamas off his back—and so, despite your misgivings, you agree. With you hell bent on marriage and Beomgyu completely indifferent to the concept, even independent of your hatred for each other, it seems unlikely that any sort of true affection will bloom. But as you begrudgingly put aside your differences to spend more and more time in one another’s company, and as you grow to know each other beyond your ill-conceived preconceptions from childhood, you begin to realize that perhaps you two have more in common than you had once thought. And as your faked acquaintanceship becomes more truth than fiction, a friendship beginning to bloom most unexpectedly— Perhaps you no longer need to convince the ton of the veracity of your courtship, because anyone with eyes can see that it is true.  Part 7 >> Part 8

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It’s been a week since you took unwilling part in the biggest scandal to overtake the ton this entire season, and you’re feeling more and more certain with each passing day that your reputation will never recover.

You thought the same thing at the beginning of the season, just a few months ago. At the time, you thought it couldn’t get any worse. Funny how time ends up proving you wrong. 

Of course, you have no idea how the ton is receiving any of the gossip. You know the facts, as does everyone else who was in the room when it all happened, but that doesn’t matter. Someone will undoubtedly distort them for the sake of a good story. Your stepmother has been refusing all calls on your behalf, though, so you have no clue what the ton is saying. It’s not like she would tell you, anyway. The morning after the Jung ball she slapped you across the face so hard you saw stars, and you had to listen to her scream at you for an hour after that. When you tried to ask her what people were saying about you a few days ago, she gave you another mark to match the first one.

The bruises still hurt to the touch. 

Maybe it’s just as well. You’re not sure you want to know what anyone is saying. The gossip about you and Beomgyu had hardly abated before the Jung ball, and with all the speculation then about you being sort of shameless whore able to seduce men into offering you marriage proposals, you can only imagine what they’re saying about you now. They probably think you seduced Lord Cho, too. 

They probably think you deserved whatever he intended to do to you. 

Which isn’t true. You never asked for any sort of physical relationship with him, never even considered it. You said no when he offered it—if the word offered could even describe the situation. Stupid as it is, you really did believe he wanted to marry you, and his words cut you deep when you learned of his true intentions. But the cynical part of you can’t help but feel like you got what was coming to you. You should have known better—known that no one would truly ever want to marry you, because you have nothing to offer. Maybe it’s true that you aren’t fit for anything more than a mistress. 

If you didn’t have so much damn pride, maybe you’d have been able to accept that by now. 

You can forget any delusions of being married, now. If you weren’t already ruined by Beomgyu leaving you after the waltz, surely this incident has marked you as a fallen woman—or at least as close to it as you can get without having actually been deflowered. Never mind that you never asked for it. Never mind that you had to beat him off with a damn candlestick. No one wants a woman who’s been sullied by another man’s touch, no matter how unwarranted. 

Maybe it’s really time for you to start making plans to run away. 

Even as the thought crosses your mind, though, you have to stifle a snort. Pausing in the middle of scrubbing out a large pot, you close your eyes for just a moment, hoping to clear out all of your remaining stupid thoughts. Run away, yes? With what money? You have nothing. This family has nothing. There’s nothing useful you can even steal from the house, and your father isn’t coming back with any money. This, you know now. 

You can still hear the terrible silence that accompanied the opening of that letter. Your stepmother’s simmering rage as her eyes scanned every carefully penned line that told of the passing of your father, and the loss of any remnants of the family fortune at the hands of his gambling addiction. You had no idea he had such an addiction. The few times you saw him over the past decade, he always seemed so stoic, so upright. You never thought he could have been hiding something so terrible behind that façade. 

But he was. And now he is dead, and he has passed nothing onto you except a mountain of terrible fortune. 

There’s really no end to it. You sigh, returning to the pot still half covered in suds in the sink. Maybe this is for the better. You’ll grow into a spinster, hide yourself from society with your position as a servant in this household, and fade away from public attention. In a few years, people will forget about everything. Maybe. Hopefully. And then you’ll have some peace of mind. 

…There’s no real hope of that, though. You’ll never have peace as long as you live with your stepmother. Maybe that’s your eternal punishment for all the stupid choices you made this season—having to live with her until she dies, or you do. 

At least she’s gone now. She left a while ago to make some morning calls, you think. You tried to ask who she was going to meet and she just snapped that she was trying to clean up the mess you had made of yourself and your family this season. 

Very useful information, that was. You didn’t press though. You didn’t want to add on to the collection of bruises already beginning to bloom across your cheek. 

She’s gone now, though, and you haven’t heard her return, so you have some time to breathe without her sneering down her nose at you every minute of the day. The silence is nice even if you know it’ll be short lived.

Something sounds in the hall as you’re scrubbing the last pot clean. You stiffen, thinking it might be your stepmother, but it still feels like it hasn’t been long since she left—surely she wouldn’t be back so soon? You look over at Soyoung, who’s helping you scrub away. Her raised eyebrow indicates she’s as confused as you are.

Footsteps sound down the hallway, and then you hear Brighton speaking. Your confusion increases by the second—surely no one has any reason to call, not when your stepmother has been chasing away callers almost every day. You wonder if Brighton will have them leave too, whoever they are, but he likely won’t. Without your stepmother here, he would probably defer to you, unless she left him with explicit instructions not to. Though he might disobey them anyway. The staff here don’t take very kindly to your stepmother. 

The thought makes you smile, but that smile quickly begins to drop as Brighton’s characteristic light footsteps sound closer and closer to the kitchen. You finish rinsing off the last pot just as he enters the kitchen, standing primly in the doorway. 

“Miss L/N.” 

You turn around, wiping your hands on your apron. “Yes, Brighton?”

A hint of distaste edges his words. “Mr. Choi has come to call.”

Despite the situation, you almost smile. You can’t say you don’t appreciate the staff’s quiet support at your situation. No doubt they’ve heard all manner of gossip from the other servants around town, but you told Soyoung what truly happened so your staff has been very kind to you since everything started going downhill. Brighton in particular has taken to speaking the Choi name with a subtle, almost undetectable annoyance that only butlers can emulate, and you won’t deny that it makes you feel a little better, sometimes. Not because you hate Beomgyu—you wish you could hate him, it would make everything so much easier—but because it’s nice to know that someone has your back.

The almost smile slips off your face almost as easily as it came, though. Because you really don’t know if you want to see him. He was right about Lord Cho, right from the start—and all you and everyone else did was just brush his concern off as jealousy. You don’t want to face him. You don’t want to know what he has to say. And truth be told, you’re still not entirely sure you forgive him for what he did at the Haynesworth ball. He tried to explain when he called the last time. You didn’t let him. You’re still not sure if you want to let him. Anger is the only shield you have now against your pain and you’re not ready to give up its embrace so soon, even if its warmth is more suffocating than nourishing. 

There is another warmth that is nourishing, though. A warmth you’ve only ever felt with those you loved. Delia, Henry, Soyoung…

And Beomgyu, too.

All of the residual anger drains out of your body, leaving you cold and a little empty. You look down at yourself, at your dirty servant’s garb splashed with water and soap, at your tender hands still holding a sponge covered in suds. You should hear him out, let him speak, but you’re just…so tired. You want this all to be over. And anyway, even if you knew you wanted to speak with him, you don’t know when your stepmother will return from her own morning calls—calls meant to repair your reputation, whatever the hell that means. She might come back in the middle of a conversation and you really don’t want to know what would happen then. 

That’s just an excuse, though. You know that just the thought of your stepmother wouldn’t be able to stop you from doing anything you really wanted to. The question is, then, do you really want to see Beomgyu? Do you really?

“For what it is worth,” Brighton says, interrupting your thoughts, “he has tried to call every morning since the Jung ball, Miss L/N.” He twists his hands together in an uncharacteristic show of uncertainty. “Your stepmother turned him away each time, but…perhaps he truly does have something to say.”

Every morning since the Jung ball. You blink. That’s…dedication. It reminds you an awful lot of how he tried to see you almost every day for a week after the Haynesworth ball, which in turn reminds you of that terrible last conversation you shared with him. He had wanted to explain himself. You hadn’t let him. Instead, you’d told him never to come back and he had heeded your words then, but now he’s returned. 

Part of you still hurts at what he did to you—or rather, what he didn’t do. Even now you can still call up some of that anger and you try to wrap it around you like a cloak, but it isn’t doesn’t work anymore. There isn’t enough anger left to shield you, which just leaves you open. Raw. Vulnerable to your emotions. 

The emotions telling you to listen to him this time, instead of just sending him away. 

You stare at your hands. You know that Beomgyu wouldn’t hold it against you if you told him to leave. He wouldn’t argue. He would give you space. And you really, really hate that. If he wasn’t so honorable, it would be so much easier to hate him. You would never have fallen in love with him in the first place. 

Life would be so much easier, then. 

But he is honorable. You may still be angry at what he did at the Haynesworth ball, but you also have the grudging grace (or maybe the idiocy) to understand that one mistake does not dictate a person’s entire character. You remember Beomgyu holding you as you shook so badly in his arms just moments after Lord Cho had tried to lay his hands on you, and you can’t help but recall how safe you felt in his hold. Not completely so—Lord Cho was right there, obviously you wouldn’t feel completely fine—but Beomgyu lent a steadiness to the moment that you needed, desperately. You trusted him without thinking. Without even feeling. 

Maybe that says something. Maybe that says a lot of things. 

You swallow hard. He’s already in your house. He’s come by every day, even though he’s been turned away each time—not by your choice, but by your stepmother’s. This might be the only chance you get to hear him out. 

You’d be a fool not to take it.

“Do you know when my stepmother will be back?” you ask quietly. 

“She left not long ago,” Brighton replies. “I do not know for certain, but I would estimate you have at least two hours before she returns.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. Two hours is likely enough time to talk. Sabine is taking care of the children in the nursery, which leaves Soyoung or Brighton to chaperone. You don’t have time to change or to cover up the marks on your cheek, but you don’t really want to. Part of you wants to approach Beomgyu with this part of yourself on display. To let him see you as you are. 

You stand up and take a deep breath. “Then bring him in.”

. . . . .

When your butler bids him to come inside, Beomgyu has to bite his tongue to stifle his shock. It’s been a week since the Jung ball and though he’s called every morning since then, the response has always been the same—that you aren’t taking visitors, and won’t be for the near future. The setup feels eerily familiar to when he tried to see you after the Haynesworth ball, though he supposes that is just what comes with scandal. The ton’s memory is like that of a goldfish. Once something else happens, they move on quickly. 

In theory, at least. In practice, the memories stick around for a bit longer than gossip suggests. 

Today, though, the butler—Brighton, he thinks—allows him inside. Before shutting the door, Beomgyu sees him cast a furtive glance towards the street, which leads Beomgyu to believe he might not actually be allowed to be here. Still, he appreciates being let in so he doesn’t comment as the butler leads him through the short hallway and into the drawing room. He then disappears to find you.

It seems to take forever for the butler to return, or at least for Beomgyu to hear any sounds indicating you might actually see him. He half expects to be told to leave and honestly, he wouldn’t blame you for it. He can’t really think of a reason why you would want to see him in the first place, but he just wants to make sure you are all right. Or as all right you can be after what happened. 

God, he really wishes he had done Lord Cho’s face in. The man would have deserved it—just one quick punch to break his nose. But then Beomgyu wouldn’t have been there to catch you when the shock set in and you nearly fell, your entire body trembling as you sank into his arms. Anyway, you already hit Lord Cho over the head with that silver candlestick, and that gave Beomgyu more than enough satisfaction to witness. 

Footsteps sound down the hall—more than one pair, it seems. Beomgyu straightens where he stands and his heart begins to race as you step into the room. 

He almost gasps but bites his tongue just in time. In all the times he’s seen you, you’ve never not been dressed for society—fine gowns, light jewelry, pretty smiles. Now, though, Beomgyu almost doesn’t recognize you. 

Dressed in a plain servant’s garb, apron still damp and slightly stained, you stare back at him, expressionless. Your hands are bare, cracked and raw, and a bruise swells dark on your cheek. Anger twists in Beomgyu’s stomach when he realizes it looks very much like the mark left if someone had hit you. There’s no doubt it was your stepmother. 

You seem to track his gaze, unsurprised at whatever you find in his expression. Something hard glints in your eyes and Beomgyu recognizes it as a test. You could have made him wait for you to change, to get ready for a typical call, but you didn’t. You chose to show yourself like this, rags and calluses and all, for a reason.

Well, if this is a test, then he will do all he can to pass it. Beomgyu holds himself tall and bows just as he always has even though the bruise on your cheek makes him want to throttle something. “Miss L/N,” he says in greeting. 

You look back at him steadily for a moment. Then suddenly your shoulders slump, as though you can’t hold yourself up anymore. “Mr. Choi,” you say wearily. “Why are you here?”

Your refusal to call him by his given name hurts more than it should, but Beomgyu forces the pain to pass. It’s no less than he deserves. “I wanted to see if you were all right,” he replies quietly. 

As the words come out of his mouth, he realizes how stupid they are. Obviously you aren’t fine. After what happened, no one in your situation would have been fine. The evidence is staring him right in the face—even if it weren’t for the bruise, the weariness on your face speaks volumes. 

“Well, you have seen me.” The corners of your lips lift slightly, though there is no mirth in the movement. “If that is all, I will be going now.” You turn around as though to leave. 

Beomgyu moves before he even realizes it. You flinch when he catches your wrist, but to his surprise, you don’t pull away. Not immediately. “Y/N,” he says, and you seem to shudder in his hold like when he held you that night. “Please.”

You remain silent for a moment. “Please, what, Mr. Choi?” you ask harshly. “You got what you wanted. You saw me. What else could you need?” You laugh. The sound scratches at Beomgyu’s ears. “Do you want to gloat? Over the fact that you were right about Lord Cho, and I wasn’t? Because that’s low, low even for you—”

Beomgyu takes a small step forward and you cut yourself off. He lets your words pass over him—you’re angry. Maybe even frightened. You’ve spat insults at him before that you actually meant, so Beomgyu knows the difference between that and you simply lashing out from your pain. “I didn’t come to gloat,” he says quietly. 

Your expression crumples. “Then why are you here?”

“I wanted to apologize.” His next words come unbidden. “And I wanted to ask if you would marry me.”

A long pause follows his unplanned declaration. Beomgyu doesn’t panic, though. Because even though he hadn’t intended to give his proposal right then and there, he still meant the words. They just came out a little early. 

“Why?” you finally ask. 

Beomgyu’s heart nearly breaks at your shattered expression, the obvious exhaustion written all over your face. You didn’t deserve this—none of it. If only he hadn’t been such an idiot, if only he hadn’t run away instead of facing his feelings earlier… “Because I love you,” he says, voice trembling. “And if you will allow me, I should like to explain.”

He watches you swallow, throat bobbing as you look down at where his hand still clasps your wrist. You keep looking there for a very long time. “Then explain,” you finally allow, but you don’t look back up at him. 

Beomgyu tries to hide how much that hurts him. It isn’t as though he has a right to feel hurt, anyway. “I am…incredibly sorry for what I did. Or what I didn’t do, I suppose.” He swallows. “I am well aware that no verbal apology of mine could ever make up for leaving you at the Haynesworth ball and I do not intend to make excuses.”

Your eyes finally shift up to his. There’s nothing in your gaze, nothing to give any indication that what he’s saying is right, but Beomgyu has been a coward long enough and he won’t continue that streak now. “I should not have asked you to waltz.” 

Your gaze shutters immediately and you go to pull away. Beomgyu almost panics and tugs your wrist back. “I did not mean it that way,” he says quickly. “I only meant…I was not proper. I should have asked if you had permission first. I should have asked if you were fine with it. I should have remembered the social repercussions of asking you to share such a dance.”

You jerk your wrist out of his hand, but you don’t leave. “Then why didn’t you?” you ask sharply. 

Beomgyu winces. There’s really no way to make “Lord Cho smirked at me which made me extremely upset” sound any better than that, but he has to try. “I was already upset that Lord Cho had been keeping your attentions the entire evening,” he says. Embarrassment creeps its way up his neck. “I was jealous. And at some point, when I was about to just leave the whole affair all together, he…gave me a look, that made me believe he was doing this on purpose. That he had been keeping you engaged the entire evening to avoid me.” The words, once they leave his lips, sound entirely self-serving and rather egotistic. But he swore to himself he would honest and, well, this is what he felt. “I probably sound rather self-centered,” he admits. “But it seemed that way to me.”

You don’t say anything. You hardly react, even. Beomgyu supposes this is at least better than if you were to scoff at him immediately. “I wanted to dance with you,” he says quietly. “I had waited several hours that night just for the hope of speaking to you. I did not realize it was a waltz before we took to the ballroom floor, but even then, at first, I truly did not care. In fact, I was enjoying it. You…you were so beautiful. You always have been.” He swallows. “But there was a moment where we met eyes and I…it hit me then. That I was in love with you.”

You’ve gone as still as a statue. Only your eyes move, warily tracking his every movement. 

“I was scared. Terrified.” Beomgyu clenches his hands at his sides and feels his nails biting sharply into his palms. “I suppose I had some inkling of it before, but I refused to think of it. I was too scared to—I had hated you for so long and we’d only been civil for a few months. I thought, surely, it could not be so. I could not love you in such a short time. But as we were dancing, and as I held you so…” Against his will, his eyes drift to your lips. “I remembered our kiss,” he says quietly. “And I knew, then, that I loved you.”

This time, you do scoff. “You have a funny way of showing it,” you say, bitterness coating every word. 

Beomgyu flinches, but it isn’t as if your words aren’t deserved. “I was a coward,” he admits. “An incredible coward. I realized it then and I couldn’t face it. I couldn’t think with everyone around us and I was so confused and terrified by the prospect of loving you that I just…ran.” He drops his head, finally. 

“You were so scared of loving me.” You snort. “Me. Yes. Because I’m just another one of the dowry-less crowd, full of scandal and Lady Whistledown mentions. Who in their right mind would ever fall in love with me?”

“It wasn’t because of that!” Beomgyu looks up at you, stricken. “Y/N—Miss L/N—do you have any idea how impressive you are?”

For the first time today, you look shocked into speechlessness. Beomgyu’s own face is starting to redden but he forges on. “You—I was terrified of how quickly I had fallen in love with you,” he gets out. “For weeks after we kissed, I couldn’t stop dreaming of it. I wanted to kiss you again. So badly. And it was—terrible. I wanted to be around you and only you. I was jealous of Lord Cho and anyone who seemed to be interested in asking for your hand. But I just could not believe I was in love with you, because you are…well, you.” He gestures vaguely. “Sweet, kind, intelligent, witty…”

God, the more he talks, the stupider he feels for not having realized his feelings sooner. 

“You are you, Miss L/N,” Beomgyu says. “Incredibly lovely and impressive, extraordinarily strong and brave.” A wave of shame washes over him at the truth of his words. You apologized first. You asked to be friends first. Every step of your relationship beyond the first fake deal was initiated by you, and the moment he realized his feelings, all he did was run. “I was terrified of how deeply I had fallen for you,” he says quietly. “Terrified of how much I felt for you in such a short time. It was cowardly of me to run. I should have stayed with you, and I will forever regret that. In the moment, though…it was too much for me to process all at once” He takes a deep breath. “I don’t expect you to forgive me for it. But that is my explanation, in the end. As idiotic as it sounds.”

You look away for a moment. Your cheek turns to him, and again Beomgyu sees the bruise your stepmother left on your skin. The momentary anger bolsters him enough to meet your gaze when you turn back to him. “I trusted you, you know.” More than your words, the exhaustion in your voice strikes Beomgyu to the core. “I trusted you to know the dance, and what it would mean to the ton. What it would mean to me.” You laugh slightly, but there is no humor in the sound. “I thought you might propose to me then.”

Beomgyu bows his head. “I am incredibly sorry,” he says quietly. “Nothing can excuse what I did.”

“It can’t,” you agree. “But it doesn’t matter anymore. It has already happened, and anyway, it’s not the worst thing a man has done to me this season.”

He stares at you. Did you just joke about Lord Cho’s assault? 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you snap, hunching into yourself. “It’s true.”

Beomgyu swallows. “I…suppose it is,” he mumbles. 

For a long moment, you two remain silent. “Nothing may excuse what you did,” you finally say, “but at least I can understand it.” And as Beomgyu is reeling from your response, trying to make sense of it, you step back. “I accept your apology,” you say. “And I appreciate it. But I think it is best that you go now, Mr. Choi.” You start to walk away. “Brighton will see you out.”

Beomgyu gapes, even as the butler comes back into the room. You said you understood. Understood feeling so strongly that it terrified you, understood the urge to run away that he gave in to—

Brighton steps toward him but Beomgyu ignores him, catching your wrist again. “Y/N!”

You stop, but you don’t look back. “What?”

Beomgyu senses that he only has one chance for this. Just one chance to say the right thing, or you’ll walk away and leave him forever. “What did you mean,” he asks, voice ragged, “when you said you understood?”

You turn to him, derision scrawled across your face. “You are a true idiot,” you snap, “if you believe you were the only one who dreamed of the kiss for days afterward.” Then you turn again and try to walk away, but Beomgyu keeps his grip on your wrist. “What is it now?” you snarl, whirling back around.

Everything is hitting him too hard, too fast, but this time, instead of running, Beomgyu stays put. You dreamed of the kiss. You thought of it for days on end just as he did, your eyes drifting to his lips the way his drifted to yours. Suddenly Beomgyu remembers moments when he saw your gaze fixated on his mouth for mere fractions of a second before you returned to the conversation, moments when you smiled at him and there was a shyness in your expression that he had never seen before…

He remembers the waltz and how you settled so comfortably into his hold, eyes sparkling, lips parted as he lowered you into the crook of his arm. You were so warm. So trusting. So full of a joy and hope that made his heart race. 

“I trusted you to know the dance, and what it would mean to the ton. What it would mean to me.” 

What it would mean to me. 

Beomgyu is an idiot. An absolute idiot. “Miss L/N,” he says slowly, “do you love me?”

Your eyes shutter. “It doesn’t matter.” 

He holds your gaze. “Yes, it does.”

“No, it doesn’t,” you grit out. You try to tug yourself away but he won’t let go. “Let go of me!”

He releases you immediately, memories of your cries a week ago forcing his hand open as soon as the words leave your mouth. But he doesn’t let you run away. “Answer my question,” he says. 

“It doesn’t matter,” you hiss. Beomgyu hears panic rising in your voice, some sort of fear pushing anger into your tone that he knows isn’t real. “What about that doesn’t make sense to you?”

“It does matter,” he says, cutting through your panic. “Because I asked you a question before that you still haven’t answered.”

You fall silent. 

“I asked you to marry me,” he says quietly, each word like a gunshot in the silence. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Brighton slip out of the room again. 

You say nothing. You don’t even look at him. It should discourage Beomgyu, but strangely, in the face of your silence, he feels more hopeful. “So I ask you again, Miss L/N,” he murmurs, stepping closer, “do you love me?”

“Why do you need to know?” you ask, voice less sharp, more pleading. “It doesn’t matter, Beomgyu!”

“If you can say no, then I’ll leave.” He puts his hands up in surrender, but privately he feels even more hope with the sound of his name from your lips. “I swear it. But you must answer me.” His voice lowers, almost to a whisper. “Do you love me?”

Your silence is more telling than anything you said before.

Beomgyu takes a leap of faith. “If you do…” He swallows. “Then marry me, Y/N.” 

You stay quiet for a long time. A clock ticks nearby, slowly marking every second that passes. Beomgyu feels as wound up as a spring, his muscles so tense it almost hurts, but he doesn’t move. He won’t move. Not until you speak.

And eventually, you do. 

“My father is dead.” 

Beomgyu’s eyes widen. Your lips curve a little, but the movement holds no humor. “We received the letter a few days ago.” 

“…I am incredibly sorry.”

“I’m not.” Your words are callous but you shrug like they mean nothing—and perhaps, after all these years, they don’t. “I hardly knew him and he hardly knew any of us. All these years, we thought he was trying to make money overseas, but he had actually gambled it all away.” You shrug again. “He died over a year ago. It took that long for anyone to try and track us down. The country home will need to be sold to pay off his debts. This house is all we really have left and we might be on the verge of losing that too, so I don’t care for him at all.”

Beomgyu stays silent against the rolling tide of your fury. He has no right to judge the situation, and nothing he could say would soothe your anger anyway. He had two loving parents, a rarity in this ton—he can hardly imagine how you feel now, both biological parents dead, one having betrayed you without your knowing for years on end. 

“I didn’t tell you this for pity.” You take a deep breath, and some of the anger dissipates, replaced by your previous weariness. “But, Beomgyu…you won’t gain anything from marrying me. Nothing at all. I’m just another girl with nothing to my name except a heap of scandal. I don’t have a title. I don’t have money. I do chores in the household where I am supposed to be a lady and while I don’t care, if this were to spread to the rest of the ton, you would be ruined, too.” Beomgyu follows your gaze down to your bare hands, your palms rough and weathered, your fingertips raw and pricked. “There’s nothing for you to gain from this,” you say quietly. “Nothing at all.”

Beomgyu reaches out. When you don’t flinch away, he takes your hand. He rubs his thumb over the skin of your palm, skimming over the lines, the cracks, the scars. “I notice,” he says slowly, “that you have still not said no.”

You scoff. “Retract your proposal, and I won’t have to.”

“What if I don’t retract it?” he challenges. “Will you say no, then?”

“You’re an idiot not to!” you snap. You try to pull your hand away but this time Beomgyu doesn’t let go. You glare at him. “Did you not hear a single thing I just said? I can’t bring you anything but burden!”

“I love you.” 

With those three words, the fight drains out of you almost immediately. Your head slumps over your joined hands and when you finally look back at him, tears sparkle, unshed, in your eyes. “I love you,” Beomgyu says again and even though it feels like his heart is about to leap out of his chest, the words still feel so right, leaving his lips. “I love you, and I want to be with you. To be with you could never be a burden to me because I love you and everything that comes with you.” You open your mouth to say something but he barrels on. “I don’t care if you have no dowry. I’ve already told you it’s an outdated notion and I care nothing for it, and besides, my family has more than enough money. I don’t need more.” He takes a breath. “I don’t care that your hands will never be smooth. Your scars carry the weight of the care you have for those you love, and they have no bearing on the goodness of your heart. And as for your scandals…” Beomgyu smiles a little, surprised to find some genuine humor in what he is about to say. “I will not have you bear all the burden when the fault is also mine. I am at least half as responsible for all of those scandals as you are.”

You stay quiet. Beomgyu gives up tracing your palm, instead clasping both of his hands over yours. “I love you, Y/N,” he says softly. “None of these things change that, and they never will.”

“You’re an idiot,” you say. Your voice is surprisingly steady, but the last syllable trembles just as the first tear slips out of your eye. “You’re an incredible idiot, Beomgyu. You know all of this—you know what sort of new scandal it would create if we married—”

“What does it say about you, then, that you have still not given me a reply?”

“I’m also an idiot!” you yell. “A bloody fucking stupid idiot who loves you against all of her better judgement. I loved you when you waltzed with me, I loved you when you left me, I loved you when you gave me those gloves—even though I didn’t even it know it then. I thought about you kissing me for days on end and I asked you to be my friend just so you wouldn’t stop speaking to me, looking at me, because I couldn’t stand the thought of seeing you everywhere and not being able to talk to you. I loved you and I still love you because I’m an idiot. A bloody, stupid idiot—” You cut yourself off as tears begin to spill down your face. You harshly wipe them off. “I don’t want to say no because I love you, you stupid fool. Despite everything I still love you and I always will, and I need you to realize that this is a terrible idea because—because this will be a mistake, it will be a huge mistake for you if you marry me, but I—I don’t know if I can say no.”

Beomgyu lets go of your hand. You flinch, no doubt expecting him to step away, but he instead comes closer. This is hugely improper but Beomgyu doesn’t care as he lifts his hand to your cheek to brush away the tears as they come. “Then say yes,” he whispers.

You shake your head wildly. “This is a mistake, Beomgyu. You’re making a huge mistake.”

“You have never been a mistake,” he says quietly. “Not once. Not ever. It was only my mistakes that got us to this point. If I hadn’t been so terrified and unable to cope with my own feelings…” He swallows around the shame that rises bitterly on his tongue. “I am the one who left you at the ball. That was my mistake. But if you can still trust me, Y/N, trust me when I say that loving you was never a mistake for me.”

“I can’t do anything good for you,” you say miserably. “Society will talk about this forever.”

“They’ll talk about it forever anyway,” Beomgyu points out. “And I don’t know about you, but I’m somewhat past caring about what they think of you and me. They’ll never get the facts right, and I can’t control that, but…I know that I love you.” His thumb sweeps another tear from your cheek. “And if you love me too…”

“I do.” Your voice is hardly a whisper but the two words embed themselves in Beomgyu’s heart, warmth slowly filling his blood. “I do love you.”

“Then that’s all that matters.” Beomgyu gently presses his forehead to yours. “I don’t care what the ton will say. I want you to be with me, forever. You say you can do no good for me but just having you near me…Y/N, I have never felt this way for another in my life.” He slides an arm around your waist, pulling you closer gently, gently. “You are the best thing that has happened to me. I should be honored to have you with me wherever I go. I don’t care what you can and can’t do for me. Being around you, being with you…that is all I want. All I need.”

You take a shuddering breath. “Beomgyu…”

“I’ll take you everywhere, Y/N. We’ll travel far away, go wherever and see whatever you want. We don’t need to stay here. We can deal with the ton as much or as little as you want to.” You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off. “Don’t worry about your servants or your family. I will provide a dowry for Delia. I will buy the house for your brother. Your servants can travel with us or stay in the home, and I will double their wages.” He takes a deep breath. “So say yes, Y/N.”

You swallow hard.

“Say yes,” he whispers again. “Please.”

You close your eyes. Tears wet your eyelashes, and Beomgyu fights the urge to brush them away, for that would break the two of you apart. You open your eyes and they’re red from crying but in this moment, Beomgyu knows he could never tire of this. Of having you close, of seeing you close, of being able to love you like this—freely, without regrets. 

“Yes.” The word ghosts over his lips, your breath soft like the wind against his skin. “Yes, Beomgyu.” You swallow hard, and though another tear rolls down your face, Beomgyu dares to believe it isn’t from sadness—that there could be some happiness joining the myriad of emotions on your face. “I will marry you.”

. . . . .

The next morning dawns uneventfully, which almost tricks you into thinking the previous day was just a dream. There’s no proof that anything happened beyond your memories, and even then, the idea that Beomgyu proposed to you seems almost too fantastical to be true. 

But it did happen. You can still feel Beomgyu’s hands encasing yours, his thumb smoothing over the cracks and lines on your palm like his touch could take away the pain. You can feel his forehead pressed to yours, his arm around your waist, pulling you to him. You can feel him, his presence—feel the memories of him wrapped around you like a shield against the world. 

You have him, and you have his promise—the promise that he would return the next day, today, with a betrothal ring. The promise that he would marry you and take you far from this place. The promise that he would love you forever. 

“I will leave now, before your stepmother returns,” he had said, holding your hand. “But tomorrow I will come. I don’t care if your stepmother refuses callers—I will come. And I will have a betrothal ring, and we will be married as soon as we can.” And you had agreed, and he had kissed your hand like you were dressed in the finest silks and jewels rather than your dirty servant’s apron, and he left, and you believed him.

Maybe you are a fool for trusting him so after he left you once. But even knowing that…you still believe him. You still believe in the man who held Delia like a little princess. You still believe in the man who defended you from Lady Trombley. You still believe in the man who gave you the gloves. And when you hear people talking in the hallway just after the clock strikes ten, your heart lifts, setting several butterflies alight in your stomach. 

You were right to trust him. 

Unfortunately, as the minutes tick on, you start to suspect there might be some trouble. While you can’t quite hear what your stepmother is saying, the sound of her cold voice permeates through the walls enough that you can tell she doesn’t plan on letting Beomgyu in. You abandon your chores in the kitchen and follow the sound of her voice towards the hall. 

You run into Brighton first, thankfully. “What’s happening?” you ask, even though you’re almost certain you know what is going on. 

“You have a caller, Miss L/N,” he says. It’s all he gets out before your stepmother rounds the corner and interrupts. 

“We are not taking callers,” she snaps, face even more pinched than usual. “Get back into the house.”

You ignore her. “Who is the caller?”

“Mr. Choi.”

Nervous warmth begins to tingle in your fingertips, which almost makes you groan—this is not the time to be feeling any sort of fluttery butterfly-ness, not when your stepmother is right there. “Let him in.”

Your stepmother snarls. “You are taking no callers—”

“He wasn’t asking for you, Stepmother,” you retort coldly. “Brighton, please bring him in.”

Brighton, smart man that he is, immediately departs. You brace yourself for your stepmother’s inevitable incoming tirade. There isn’t much in this hallway to put between you and her, so you can only hope Brighton comes back quickly. 

“You are not the head of this household.”

You glance at the end of the hallway. You really hope Brighton comes back soon. 

“You technically aren’t, either.” You take a step back but your stepmother advances faster, her eyes narrowed and sharp. “Henry is. But I don’t suppose you want to take orders from a four year old.”

There’s a flash of skin, a loud cracking sound, and then pain blooms across your left cheek. You cradle it instinctively, biting your lip against the pain. Well, at least the left side of your face will now be matching the right. 

Your sharp tongue never fails to get you into trouble these days. 

“Go back to the kitchen,” your stepmother snarls, her hands folded deceptively calmly at her waist. What a witch. “I will deal with you after I deal with Mr. Choi.”

“What, are you going to slap him too?” you snap. “He is my caller. I will receive him. You have no right—”

She laughs, high and sharp. “You wish for him to call on you now, when you look like this? Even if you weren’t buried in scandal, I would never let another see you in this dirty garb.”

“And whose fault is that?” You snort. “I wouldn’t be in this dirty garb if it weren’t for you. And for the record, Stepmother…” A smirk creeps across your lips. “He has already seen me like this.”

Horror flashes across her expression. “You—”

“I did.” You let your smirk widen. “He knows.”

You hear the slap before you feel it. The force of her hand against your cheek nearly knocks you against the wall and you don’t manage to stifle your cry, pressing your palm to your cheek in a futile effort to relieve some of the pain. A sharp sting rushes up your face, though, and when you pull your palm away, there’s a thin streak of blood. Her ring must have cut you again. 

“You’re an idiot,” you say as calmly as you can. “Mr. Choi is here. In this house. Brighton will be back with him in moments. Do you think it will benefit you at all for him to see me like this? To see you like this?”

She blanches. You keep talking, years of rage boiling over. “What, lost your tongue?” You laugh humorlessly. “All these years you’ve kept me pent up like this, one of your worst secrets—cleaning for you, washing for you, sewing your clothes and mine—you’re lucky I cared enough about Delia and Henry not to say anything.” A sneer curls your lips. “You hit me and you slap me and you know it’s wrong, you know it’s bloody wrong because you never do it in front of the children! Why do you hate me so much? What did I ever do to deserve—”

You see it coming—the hand rising, the palm flashing. Instinctively you flinch. Your eyes slam shut and you cringe away from the hand, covering your cheek as some small protection against the impact. 

But it never comes. 

You open your eyes. Beomgyu stands beside your stepmother, fingers wrapped tightly around her still-raised wrist. If you weren’t almost hyperventilating, you might laugh at how comically wide her eyes are, but only a slight wheeze manages to press past your lips. 

“Miss L/N.” Brighton’s voice sounds next to your ear. You hadn’t registered his presence, but it calms you. “Are you all right?”

“Not—not really.” You look at Brighton, whose usually calm expression has twisted with anger, then at Beomgyu, whose face can only be described as the pure embodiment of cold rage. “But I’m fine.” You don’t take your hand away from your bleeding cheek as you meet Beomgyu’s eyes. “Beomgyu, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” Beomgyu drops your stepmother’s wrist and shoves past her, coming to  a stop right in front of you. For all the anger in his movements, his hand is surprisingly gentle as he pries your fingers away from your face, revealing whatever marks she left moments ago. You hiss as open air hits the cut, but Beomgyu’s thumb soothes it slightly. “Is there anything we can use to clean this?” he asks Brighton with deceptive calm. 

“I will bring something shortly.” The butler bows, then quickly leaves. 

Silence falls in the hallway, though Beomgyu’s anger clearly sizzles in the air. His dark eyes search yours for something, and only when his gaze falls to your cheek do you understand what he’s asking. 

“I’m fine,” you say quietly. “Or, I will be.”

It’s clear Beomgyu isn’t happy with your response, but he does seem to realize you don’t want to speak about this—at least not now. He nods almost imperceptibly, then turns to your stepmother. “Leave,” he snaps. He barely gives her a glance.

She gapes, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. If the situation weren’t so charged, you might laugh. “I will not be ordered about in my own home!” she finally manages, her cheeks turning blotchy with embarrassment.

“Good God.” You sigh. “With all due respect, Stepmother, isn’t this exactly what you wanted? For me to be married to a wealthy husband and out of your hair?” You sneer. “If you don’t leave, that fantasy will never come true.”

Her eyes widen more, if that was possible. “You—” She glances between you and Beomgyu wildly. “You want to marry her?”

“I don’t answer to abusers,” Beomgyu says coldly. 

“But—”

God, she is the absolute worst. “I don’t suggest you make Mr. Choi any angrier than he already is,” you snap. 

With a last incredulous glance, your stepmother hurries out of the hallway. You breathe a sigh of relief. Finally.

Beomgyu’s gaze immediately softens, though concern still burns in his eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner,” he says quietly. 

“You didn’t know.” You shrug. “It’s fine, Beomgyu. I’ll heal.”

“It’s not that,” he says, eyebrows furrowing. “It’s the fact that this has clearly been going on for a very long time—”

“That is true,” you interrupt. “But I couldn’t say anything then. And anyone who knew didn’t have the power to do anything about it. I am only glad now that I have someone who knows, and who might help protect me.” You take the hand still pressed to your cheek and squeeze it. “I will be fine.”

Beomgyu searches your expression for a long moment. Whatever he is looking for, he seems to find it, because he seems to relax slightly. “If you say so.”

“I do.” You smile, wincing when the movement hurts your cheek. Beomgyu clearly notices but he also clearly sees that you don’t want him to remark on it, so you’re very grateful when he says nothing. You let your voice take on a more playful tone. “Now, what are you here for?”

“Well, I came as I promised yesterday.” His voice takes on somewhat of an edge and you realize he seems almost nervous. It’s very endearing, and your smile widens. “I brought you a ring,” he continues, producing a small box from his pocket. “If you will still accept my suit.” He opens the box.

You gasp. A bright emerald decorates the simple gold band, flanked on each side by small diamonds. There isn’t much light in the hallway but the gems catch what light there is, sparkling cheerfully in the box. “It’s beautiful,” you whisper. 

Beomgyu lifts the ring from the box and takes your hand. “It is yours,” he says, voice clearly shaking a little, “if you should like to have it.”

“Of course I would.” To your surprise, you can feel tears coming to your eyes that aren’t just from pain. “My answer hasn’t changed, Beomgyu.”

Relief floods across his expression, a tension disappearing from his shoulders that you hadn’t noticed before. “Oh. That’s good,” he says, smiling slightly. “Good for me, I mean. I just…I wouldn’t have blamed you if you did.”

You keep quiet for a moment, choosing your next words carefully. “I can’t say I wasn’t hurt by what you did, Beomgyu,” you finally say. “I was.”

He nods, looking terribly guilty. 

“But I also know that you are not characterized only by your mistakes then.” You smile softly, folding your hands over his. “You are still the man who defended me from Lady Trombley. The man who helped me after Lord Cho. The man who gave me gloves.”

Beomgyu peers at you with his dark eyes, so soft, so kind. 

“Maybe it will take us time to work past this.” You shrug. “That’s fine. Everything takes time. But…I know, at least, that I want to work past this with you. I want to be with you.” Your smile grows, trembling on your lips. “We were idiots for so long. I’m just…I’m just glad we were able to get to this point, at least, without it being too late.”

“Well, we only have you to thank for that.” Beomgyu smiles softly, most of the awful guilt slipping off his face. “You were the one who apologized first.”

You make a face. “Desperation can do strange things to a person.”

“Desperation?”

Your cheeks feel warm. “After you kissed me, I couldn’t stop thinking of it.” You turn away, embarrassed. “I couldn’t stand the idea of not seeing you again either. I was desperate. So I apologized, because I at least wanted to be friends.”

Beomgyu’s fingers light on your chin, turning you back to him. “Well, you are far braver than I,” he says sheepishly. “I was too scared to say anything, for fear that you wouldn’t feel the same way.”

You smile teasingly. “That just means you have the rest of our lives to make up for it.” 

“Trust me, I will be.” And with that, he slides the ring onto your finger, the gold band comfortingly cool against your skin. 

You hold up the hand, admiring the sparkle of the gems even in the dim light of the hall. “It really is lovely,” you murmur.

“It’s one of the betrothal rings that has been in the family for a long time,” Beomgyu says. “Soobin had our mother’s, of course, because he is the first born, but I think this one suits you better anyway.”

The emerald glints against your finger, cheerful and bright. You haven’t seen the other rings in Beomgyu’s family collection, but you’re inclined to agree with him. The longer you look at it, the giddier you feel, even remembering everything that happened just minutes ago. It’s almost unbelievable. You’re going to be married. Married. And to someone you love, even. Your smile widens. 

“I can’t really believe this is happening,” you admit, almost in a whisper. It’s more to yourself than to Beomgyu, but he hears you anyway. 

“Me neither.” The society version of him is gone now, replaced by a shyer, almost boyish version of him that endears you far more than is good for the butterflies in your chest. “I mean, less than a few months ago we were still at each other’s throats.”

“I suppose you can claim all the credit for this, then.” You laugh. “You’re the one who suggested that ridiculous deal in the first place.”

“I may have suggested it, but you’re the one who took it to the next step.” Beomgyu grins. “Out of desperation.”

You hit him lightly as heat floods your cheeks. “Hey, you felt the same way!”

“I did, and I was an idiot for not acting on it sooner.” Beomgyu steps forward, taking your hands, and suddenly you’re so close you swear he could hear your heart beating right now. “I’m sorry for that.”

“Stop apologizing. I have already forgiven you.” A rush of boldness course through you and you lean your head against Beomgyu’s shoulder. He stiffens for a moment but relaxes so suddenly you almost flinch, and then his arms come to wrap around your waist. It reminds you of how he held you when you kissed and with that memory, you only sink deeper into his hold. “Anyway, what is that thing they say?” you mumble. “Something about there being a line in between love and hate?”

Beomgyu smiles and pushes you away, but just so he can look into your eyes. “There is a fine line,” he murmurs against your ear, his gaze drifting down to your lips, “between hatred and love.”

You laugh as he kisses you, his mouth soft and sweet against yours. “Yes,” you whisper when you pull away. “A very fine line, indeed.”

. . . . .

epilogue.

“Beomgyu!” You run down the stairs, nearly tripping over your skirts in the process. “Where are you? We’re going to be late—”

A hand catches your wrist as you fly down the last few steps. Beomgyu’s laugh rings out when you screech, his arm pulling you flush against him. “I’m right here,” he says into your ear. You hear the smile in his voice even though you can’t see it, pressed to his chest as you are. 

“I couldn’t find you!” You pull away, hoping your makeup hasn’t rubbed off onto his outfit. “Where were you hiding?”

“Nowhere.” He sneaks a kiss in between your flailing and you yelp again. “You just weren’t looking hard enough.”

You scowl, but both of you know there’s no real annoyance behind it. “You are incredibly annoying,” you inform him, only to be met with another chuckle. 

It’s been a year since the last season, and six months since you married. If you had had it your way, you would have married as soon as he proposed—called the banns in a week, married in a matter of days after that. With your father dead, however, your entire family was sent into mourning. Never mind that you had never cared for the man. 

You hated those six months. It wasn’t the seclusion from society, which you honestly didn’t mind—but just…mourning your father. A man who was barely present in your life. A man whose face you wouldn’t have remembered if not for the portrait still stuck up in the drawing room, a man who lied to you for years until he died so far away from home. You almost considered eloping to Gretna Green to escape the months of forced darkness—you’re fairly certain Beomgyu would have agreed—but ultimately decided against it. You had participated in enough scandal during the season to last you a lifetime. You didn’t need any more of it.

It helped when the three month mark came around and you could change out of the void black gowns and into the lighter colors of half-mourning. Not so much because of the clothes, but because you could slowly begin to accept social engagements again. It isn’t that you particularly wanted to see anyone—the season was over by then and you were incredibly glad for that—but Beomgyu could visit, then. It wasn’t as often as you or he would have liked since his family had moved to the country while you stayed in town, but it helped the time pass more quickly, especially when your little half-siblings freed themselves from the clutches of the staff and managed to tumble into the drawing room to join you two. You’re almost certain Delia has a little child-crush on Beomgyu, and Henry looks at him like a role model.

It's adorable. 

Still, sometimes those three months seemed interminable. You barely spoke to your stepmother but after so many years of living under her iron fist, you could never feel at ease in the same house as her. When the wedding came around, you didn’t invite her and she didn’t ask to come. It was a lovely day to celebrate your escape from a life you never wished to live. 

And here you are, now. Bickering with your husband whom you love in a home you can call your own, free from the back-breaking secret of your previous life and able to live, really live, in a way you haven’t been able to in years. You can even go about in society with your head held high, just like you will tonight. 

That is, if Beomgyu decides to stop stalling anytime soon. 

He leans in for another kiss but you jerk away before his lips can land on yours. “We’re going to be late, Beomgyu,” you repeat, forcibly pushing his face away. 

He looks at you, face mushed still mushed against your hand. You fight the urge to laugh but a smile makes its way onto your lips anyway. “Be honest with me, Y/N,” he says, pulling away with that little twinkle in his eye. “Do you really want to go tonight?”

You open your mouth, ready to respond affirmatively. But then Beomgyu catches you with those very sweet, very alluring eyes, and you pinch your lips together. He’s already won, you both know, but you have to fight him a little bit. Just a little bit. 

“You’re telling me we should skip our first public event since coming back from our very extended honeymoon?” You raise an eyebrow. 

“Why not?” he asks, sneaking a quick kiss onto your neck. You yelp, squirming away, but he maintains his hold on your waist all the while. “We’d have more fun at home anyway.”

You do your very best to ignore the way he’s smiling against your skin. “We already said that we would go.”

“Something came up. A terrible emergency that required us to return to the country for another month.” Beomgyu decides that whatever he’s doing right now is no longer enough and begins to lay kisses down your neck, trailing them towards your shoulder even though he knows you are incredibly ticklish over there. “You can’t tell me you’re so eager to return to society.”

You sigh. Beomgyu made good on all of his promises—he bought the house for your brother, he set aside money for your sister’s dowry, and he doubled the wages of all your staff in service. Several of them have followed you to your new home, too. And after your wedding, he whisked you away from London and the upcoming season to show you everything he knew in the continent. It was wonderful to leave England and even more wonderful to see the world, but by the end, you had come to the conclusion that it wasn’t just leaving London that gave you this joy. It was the fact that you had someone you loved by your side. 

It was the fact that you had Beomgyu.

It sounds terribly cliché, and you had said about as much to Beomgyu when you admitted it the night you returned to London, confessions whispered under the starlit sky. He had asked you if you really felt all right returning to society after the scandals and gossip of the last season and after a moment, you nodded. It would be difficult, but you didn’t want to hide forever. And with someone really and truly on your side, you could believe things would turn out fine. 

You thought he’d laugh at you, and he did—a little bit. But that laugh was accompanied by a surprising shyness and warmth in his touch as he pulled you closer under the bedsheets, your head coming to rest against his chest, just under his chin. “That is somewhat cliché,” he had said, words ghosting softly past your skin. “But I am very glad you feel that way.”

Now here you are, ready to attend your first public event of the season, and he’s trying to convince you to stay home. 

“I’m not not eager,” you protest. 

“But you aren’t exactly saying you’re eager either,” he retorts easily.

You sigh. “We promised we would go,” you say emphatically, but even you can tell that you’re losing ground for your argument here. 

Beomgyu hums into your shoulder, his arms sliding down to wrap around your waist from behind. “I’m sure Lady Park will understand,” he murmurs. 

That draws you up short. You’d nearly forgotten who was hosting tonight. “We are not skipping out on Lady Park’s ball,” you say, twisting around to look at him fully. “She is probably one of my only supporters in society right now!”

He makes an affronted noise. “What, is my family just chopped liver?”

“They are family,” you retort. “It isn’t the same. If they didn’t support me, we would be in far greater trouble by now.”

Beomgyu falls silent, which means he’s conceding defeat—at least on this front. “Fine, we’ll go,” he eventually groans. “But no one said we have to stay the entire night.” He whirls you around so that you’re facing him directly, and his grin becomes something distinctly inviting. Sensual. Your heart begins to beat uncomfortably quickly. “In fact, no one said we had to arrive on time, either.”

Your mouth suddenly feels very dry. You fight hard to keep your eyes meeting his, and not floating downwards to fixate on his lips. “Beomgyu…”

He grins. He knows he’s winning. “Twenty minutes,” he proposes.

“…Five minutes.”

“Fifteen.”

“Ten.”

“Twelve and a half.” You laugh, and Beomgyu takes your distraction as an opportunity to press his lips to yours again. “Twelve and a half,” he repeats when he pulls away, eyes sparkling. “And by the way, did I tell you how beautiful you look this evening?”

You laugh again, despite yourself. “You are absolutely incorrigible,” you inform him. 

“And yet you still love me,” he points out, infuriatingly correct as usual. “Twelve and a half minutes.”

“…Fine.”

He has his lips against yours in less than a second, an arm around your waist pulling you protectively close as your own hands wrap instinctively around his neck. “You are so beautiful,” he whispers against your lips. “I promise, every minute will be worth it.”

Sometimes it just suddenly hits you how lucky you are—how less than two years ago, you believed you would never find a husband, that you would never find love, that you would be forced to run away to avoid a life slated for a miserable end in your old household. Just a year past you believed this man to be your mortal enemy. When you think about it too much, you start to panic. Now that you have everything, a life that months ago you could only have dreamed of, it all feels like it could be taken away so easily. 

So as Beomgyu’s lips capture yours again, pressing you against the staircase as his hand rises to caress your cheek, you decide not to think about it. You push your doubt and panic away and focus on here, on now—on the warmth of his hands and his lips, on the love he manages to convey with every miniscule touch. This life is yours, this life filled with so much devotion and warmth, yours to build, yours to love. And if you know yourself, you will never willingly let it go.

When you break away for air, you don’t let Beomgyu pull away too far. You tangle your fingers through his dark hair, grinning all the while. If he notices a few tears of joy threatening to spill down your cheek, he says nothing, just looks at you with his doting smile.

“That was never in doubt,” you reply, staring into loving eyes. “Because every moment with you has always been worth it.”

Reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed this, and have a lovely day :)

[xo2dee]

ᴊᴜᴊᴜᴛꜱᴜ ᴋᴀɪꜱᴇɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

ʟᴀᴍʙᴇɴᴛ

⛧ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sukuna x (Fem)Reader

⛧ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: true form!sukuna, pregnant!reader, heian era customs, pregnancy, mentions of cannibalism, sukuna being an asshole (what do you expect)

⛧ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3767

⛧ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Carrying the King's of Curses child, you knew wouldn't be easy, but you were more than happy to have a baby of your own. Even if said baby was growing rapidly while being the source of your bad back and changing appetite.

⛧ᴀ/ɴ: sukuna fluff is hard to come by in my opinion and so sorry if he's ooc but i wanted him like this. also, this is for lemon and ava, two of my favorite sukuna babes 🤍

⛧twitter - ao3

Wrist flicking out, you fanned yourself, eyes heavy with the sleep you had been fighting as you pursed your lips and eyed the blooming trees of the garden. Spring was rounding itself off, the scorching weather approaching you knew in weeks as you could only prepare yourself to be practically bedridden due to your ‘condition’. You’d only arrived a year and a half prior, and you quickly realized you had not seen much of the palace still after taking a husband, be it due to the duties of a noble person who were bound to spend most their days inside and entertaining themselves another way.

You held back a snort, fanning yourself harder as you stopped and eyed a nearby bush full of bright fruit and as red as your husband’s eyes.

…Husband.

In your youth, you supposed the daydreams of living in nobility were only achievable through luck. Or perhaps told through a fortune told from the Omikuji you required as a teen, taking the fortunes of ‘blessing’ and ‘marriage’ with a grain of salt until you had grown into an adult and ran off to be elsewhere from the clutches on an arranged marriage. Into serving nobility, to becoming nobility wasn’t necessarily on your list, your marriage by all means was an unlawful one. Forged from blood and flesh when you remembered instead of sipping sake in front of the Gods, your husband-to-be curled his fingers around your wrist and bit into your palm to instead partake in you.

You had been enamored by him since you first met him, eyes memorizing every inch of his unusual face before taking his thumb into your mouth when he smeared his own blood across your lips. It had sealed your fate that moment, your love and lust for him bursting forth like a raging inferno then and during the commutation of your marriage. Something that had finally taken into effect and was weighing down on you heavily.

One you supposed was the reason for the wariness when it came to serving you.

Cutting your eyes to the side and slightly behind you, you held the sigh in, your attendant keeping her eyes on the ground (perhaps watching your feet when you walked) as to shield her pensive expression from you, however you were not the unobservant type and focused on the knot between her eyebrows. Mai, your first and most loyal attendant, was never one to shy away from pestering over you, speaking her mind and filling in for advice whenever you needed it, so to see her quiet and on edge grated your nerves more than you liked to admit. She had been your first friend when you arrived, and you absolutely despised when she reverted back into the meek and submissive attendant she played whenever your husband was around, and it was enough to make you frown and worry if you had done something wrong.

You sighed loudly, snapping your fan shut and turning to the woman slowly, “You look like you have something you want to say.”

Mai’s eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks, long and curled as her doe-like eyes rose to meet yours. She seemed to mull over your statement, before bowing her head in submission and speaking quietly, “Permission to speak?”

A smile graced your lips, softening your expression and nodding to her in return, “You always have permission with me, Mai.”

And just like that, Mai’s entire attitude flipped at your nonchalance. Straightening herself up, she dropped the service act and eyed you with suspicion and wary, mixed in with tired disappointment at having to cater to your more… reckless wants. “It’s just that Lord Sukuna has told us to monitor you and keep you in the palace when he’s away. And you’ve disobeyed that… again.”

Ah, there it was. With a scowl threatening to mar your face, you turned your back to her and began to pick through the strawberries in the bush you had been eyeing before, “I’m in the gardens. That’s still the palace… Is it not?”

“Yes, but –”

“This one looks ripe…” you cut her off, not necessarily wanting to hear her prattle on about how your husband made it horrifyingly clearly that you were to say inside at all times when he wasn’t at the palace. You’d heard it all before so many times it had been practically engraved into your skull with ink, and you were fed up with sitting on your knees inside away from the outside world and learning calligraphy constantly. Lips downturned you plopped a good-looking strawberry into your mouth, humming at the juice and tangy sweetness that exploded upon your taste buds, before your stomach gave an abrupt twist and a foot kicked out against your ribs. You winced and rubbed at your belly while the fruit suddenly tasted foul, and you swallowed with a grimace, “I hate how hungry I get nowadays, especially when I seem to crave more than just human food.”

Mai had been watching you like a hawk, leaning forward to intercept you whenever you reached for another fruit, “Oh, let me get it for you –”

“Please, Mai, I can pick my own strawberries. You worry too much.” Batting her hand away, you plucked it, hiding it in your sleeve and turning to her with an exhausted smile as she took your fan from you.

“Yes, My Lady. But please consider my words, we can keep you entertained in the palace.” You watched the lines on her face carefully, creased at her eyes and wrinkles forming at her forehead, and you could only wonder if your pregnancy had been the cause of her newly formed stress (partly, you knew you could’ve blamed it on your husband, his aggressive and aloof behavior all in one keeping most of the servants on the tips of their toes, but you quickly squashed it whenever you remembered she tended to you entirely).

Of course, you knew she was only doing her job, however her job was also giving you a severe case of claustrophobia being cooped up inside all the time. It wasn’t like you were planning to ever leave the palace’s premises either, just small strolls in the garden or spending time by the pond to cool off. Honestly, you had reason to believe she and your husband were just worrywarts (yet for the latter, you would keep that strictly to yourself).

You nodded your head in the direction you wanted to go, signaling Mai to walk beside you as you sighed and lowered your voice, “The midwife told me exercise will help…” you caressed your palm over your protruding stomach, “The baby is already huge and only seems to keep growing. A little sun helps me too, Mai… I can’t stay cooped up forever.”

Mai took a few moments to respond, her shoulders relaxing and her voice regaining familiarity, “I’m only worried since the last time you fainted out here.”

Lips thinning outwards, you remembered it all too well. Not necessarily fainting, though you blamed it on the many layers you wore around the palace and how warm it was getting outside, but you remembered the aftermath and how your husband had all but slaughtered a few lowly servants in retaliation as to letting you out (and because of his temper). You had thought the gore would’ve had you running, but you’d grown so used to him murdering someone whenever they slightly pissed him off you could only sigh at the thoughts. Of course, you knew Mai’s worry also came out of fear, however you weren’t about to let him do anything to her. “I know, but I feel fine… Just swollen feet and my back aching every time I move.”

And the baby kicking at your body whenever something displeased him.

Mai sighed your name exasperatingly, dropping the formalities, “Please, given your condition I think it’s best if you return to the palace.”

Irritation began to seep in your muscles, your baby moving in response to your emotions as your feet marched faster to walk. If you wanted to walk around the garden, you were allowed to, you would deal with your husband later if he found out. “What my husband doesn’t know won’t hurt him… Just another stroll and we can go back in, I’m getting tired anyways.”

“My Lady – oh!”

Mai abruptly skidded to a halt, body bending quickly into a low enough bow for the towering sight of your husband appearing before you both. You spared her a quick glance, flickering back to your husband, Lord Sukuna, when you realized he wasn’t the least bit concerned over her. He kept all four eyes on you, a challenging glare in them and you nearly wanted to laugh at the sight of two of his arms crossed and the other two planted on his hips. He looked every part of a disappointed husband – a father in the making, and you could already feel the talking your ear was going to get. Ah well, you could always feign falling asleep on him, that seemed to always make him softer.

Bending slightly into your own bow, he spoke, addressing Mai with a singular command, “Leave,” and you only returned back to your own height whenever you peeked that she was gone. You held back the groan at the pull your spine gave, wincing slightly at the shine of the sun before his large form eclipsed it as he finally moved close to you with no one in sight. The familiarity of his warmth and scent eased some of your irritability, wondering why he was back to early and ecstatic that he came to look for you once he couldn’t find you.

You smiled up at him, rolling the strawberry around your fingers before gesturing with your head to the path you had been walking, “Walk with me?”

Sukuna was ever-so unwavering in his staring, watching you practically dawdle in your place with the world’s most unamused expression, “Weren’t you told to stay inside?”

You repressed a shudder at his rough voice as your skin prickled, another sigh leaving while your shoulders slumped; caught. “I might remember you telling me that.” He seemed to not be in the mood for your sweettalking.

A loud exhale made your smile turn sheepish. “You piss me off.”

You knew that was coming, pulling out your hand from the sleeve to produce the strawberry from before, letting his eyes follow the way you rolled it into your palm, “But you’re here now… Nothing could really happen now since I have you.”

Sukuna’s eyebrow furrowed, eyes narrowing inward before he scowled at you enough to let his upper lip slightly curve over his teeth, “Changing the subject won’t help you. Are you gonna walk back, or do I have to carry your ass and –"

In a bold move you silenced him, pressing the strawberry to his lips with two fingers and slightly pushing it forward in hopes he would eat it. His eyes couldn’t narrow or glare any further, shooting from you to the fruit, and holding them there for a few moments and you wanted to giggle because it nearly looked like he pouting. Your husband never really ate human food, perhaps to humor you before he would spit it out and complain about the horrid taste it gave him, however there were a few times his interest would peak and want a bite of whatever you had in your hand – especially when said food seemed to satisfy you so much. You supposed it was his curiosity to understand you better, having a human in such close quarters and as a wife was perhaps as jarring as it was to have him as your husband.

Toying with him, you said, “It gave me bad taste earlier… Want to try it?”

Sukuna’s lips twitched behind the fruit, a clear sign he’d indulge you that time and when you went to move your hand away from him, one of his hand snatched your wrist with a small squeeze. An unspoken word for you to leave your fingers on the fruit and indulge him. And you did so with coquettish blink, pressing the strawberry harder against his lips until they gave way and his teeth were biting into it with the juice from inside sliding down your fingers as he slowly and sensually ate the strawberry from your fingertips. It didn’t help that he kept his eyes on your own the whole time, your cheeks burning as you never were able to get used to your husband’s forward assertion on sensuality.

Your breath caught and eyes widened when his tongue slid over the length of your fingers before slipping in his mouth and sucking on them until they were free of any residue stickiness. You couldn’t help the rapid beat of your heart, lips parting as his thumb tapped in rhythm to your pulse point before he let go of your fingers with a loud ‘plop!’ and a satisfied hum rumbling out of him as you could only gaze dumbfounded at the saliva coating your fingers. After a few moments you cleared your throat and swallowed, eyeing him warily as you knew his stomach probably wouldn’t last long and he’d be hacking it up with loud complaining.

And on cue, you watched fascinated as the mouth on his stomach frowned.

Oh, here it comes. It never lasted long in his system.

You sighed as he spat it out, licking his lips and scowling at the ground, “You’re right, tastes like shit.”

“Would you like me to say something to the servants?” you asked, mentally cheering with a soft smile on your face when he fell into step with you to walk along the gardens. It was never hard to get what you wanted out of him.

“It’s not poor gardening skills, it’s you.” You opened your mouth, ready to backtalk at the insult, yet he silenced you with a hand raised before one of his fingers traced along your cheek, “Weren’t you waddling in and practically whining for some of my food?”

How could you forget, a week ago you’d been lured out of your bed chamber by the most mouthwatering smell and your baby kicking incessantly once your stomach growled. You had stumbled upon Sukuna and Uruame, the latter making Sukuna’s dinner and the dinner something you never were to partake in since his appetite did not quell your hunger. However, when you found yourself salivating with your stomach rumbling and your baby kicking, it was a jarring experience to come to realize you were indulging in cannibalism and liked it. Liked it so much your child never rolled in a fit that night and Sukuna had been extra attentive to you afterwards with his praising.

An answer was on your tongue, though you chose to neglect saying anything when your taste buds twitched at the thought of that dinner and instead enjoyed your walk in peace. Your husband only snorted, a slight laugh leaving him at your pout before he returned his limbs to himself and rolled his gaze forwards on the path you’d been on. Times with him were normally relaxing as he was actually rather lazy when he had nothing to do, his affections ranging from just enjoying your presence in silence to twirling your hair around his finger whenever you were close enough. You never minded, glad to spend time with him though it was equally as nice whenever he seemed get even clingier once finding out you were pregnant.

Even his soft, lingering touches moments ago set your heart ablaze, and you wondered if he felt the same whenever you ran your fingers through his hair whenever he felt like resting his head in your lap.

Minutes into your relaxing walk you felt it, an agonizing cramp pulsing in your back and the soles of your feet screaming in protest at being mobile for too long. Of course, you get some time to do something with him and your body halts that and screams at you to stop. You didn’t want to say anything, not wanting to bother him nor ruin the peaceful moment you were so grateful to have. Although the pain in your body had other plans, cramping upwards and throbbing whenever you tried to take another step so much you immediately had to double over with one hand resting on your stomach.

You stopped, the other hand moving to hold your aching back, and you were vaguely surprised he stopped at the same time. A wince and awkward bouts of silence later, you groaned and straightened back up, “I’m sorry, I think it gets worse every day.”

Sukuna remained silent and still, before a rumbling from his chest prickled the hair on the nape of your neck. “Hm, almost like you should’ve listened to me.” He was back in that disappointed husband stance, and you knew if you were to look into his face you’d see the smug grin at your misfortune. Gritting your teeth you didn’t give him the satisfaction, watching glumly as he sighed rather loudly and moved away from your side to continue walking in the direction of this palace.

You reaped what you sowed you supposed, having to walk back alone after being told not to be out of the palace when he wasn’t there. And your body complaints for moving about too much agreed, a quiet moan of frustration leaving you as you closed your eyes and counted to ten to calm your nerves, reopening them when the pain muted itself into a dull ache for the time. However, you completely clammed up at the sight of your husband bent down in front of you, the black of his haori draped over his shoulders shielding your view of his sculpted back and his face turned forward giving you no indication of what he was doing.

Yet, he did seem like he said something, though you were too befuddled to even understand what he had said.  

“What –”

“Are you deaf?” he interrupted, turning his head slightly and motioning with his head from you to climb onto him, “I said get on, before I change my mind.”

He wanted you… to ride… on his back? Never once did he ever engage in something like that with you (besides carrying you in his arms, but that had been the night of your wedding and he’d practically tossed you on your beds afterwards), though you weren’t about to pass by the chance for him to carry you. Though you weren’t too sure how to climb on his back and hold on so heavily pregnant, Sukuna didn’t have four arms for nothing you supposed.

Not wanting him to change his mind and keep him waiting, you clambered onto him to best you could dressed in several layers with your legs kicking free to slip underneath the lower set of his arms. You held back a squeal when your baby kicked at all the movements, arms flying forward to nearly constrict Sukuna’s airway off as he in return grunted and stood to his full height while beginning to move forward in a slow pace. You were grateful he was taking it slow, still trying to get comfortable and trying not to think about how bad it would hurt to fall off his back from his enormous height…

“Stop fucking squirming…” he grunted again, readjusting you with his arms as your body reclined higher up on his back and he continued walking, “Acting like I’ve never touched you before.”

“It’s not that. He – “ you cut yourself off, you hadn’t necessarily told him that you believed your baby was a boy, and you didn’t want to hear any of his teasing, “the baby kicks and squirms whenever I move too much.” Or whenever he hears your voice, you groused, further proving your point when he kicked at you again whenever Sukuna spoke once more. You wondered if he could feel the kick on his back.

“Damn.” A pause of silence and Sukuna was jostling you on his back, “How much does that prick weigh? Or is that all you?”

Your hand itched to slap the back of his neck, though you held yourself together and only offered him a scoff while making yourself comfortable, “He takes after his father.”

“And he wiggles like a worm, just like his mother.”

You had half a mind to say something about him referring to your child as a boy, your cheeks hot when you rested your chin atop his shoulder and eyes growing lidded with sleep while he inadvertently rocked you with his steps. You bit the inside of your cheek in a girlish thought that your husband was walking slower on purpose, rolling your ankles to stop you from kicking your feet at the idea he wanted to spend more time with you alone. Then again, he was doing all of it for you when he could’ve just left you alone, or not come out to find you at all.

Maybe some days he missed you as much as you missed him.

In a bold declaration, you pushed yourself forward until your nose was skimming Sukuna’s cheek, a chaste kissed you placed there seconds later whenever he didn’t say or do anything to push you away, “Thank you, my Lord.”

Sukuna hummed low in his throat, a deep rumbling that vibrated against your arms and soothed your aching ribs, “Don’t get used to it. I just didn’t want to wait around for your slow ass to waddle back in.” Though he sounded rather harsh, you knew he was just doing roundabout affection in his own way.

Your head lolled against his, the leaves on the trees above swaying you into a warm midday nap the longer you watched them through your eyelashes, “Take me to bed?”

You didn’t necessarily hear his response, though you weren’t dreaming it when his fingers tightened the hold he had on your thighs, the warmth he emitted doing wonders for the pains in your body as he secured you further into his back to ensure you didn’t fall off. You couldn’t help the smile, your cheek smushed into his shoulder as you took one final look at the sunlight path before you both and closed your eyes as exhaustion took its hold over.

With a last conscious thought, you reminded yourself to thank Mai later for allowing you a nice stroll in the garden – especially when you were doing it with your family.

[pixelscutz]

𝙠𝙚𝙣𝙟𝙞 𝙨𝙖𝙩𝙤 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙩 ꩜ .ᐟ

𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 3 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴, 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧,, 𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯,, 𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 !!

request from :: @despacito-uwu16 :3

As you watch Kenji walks out into the crowd, waving towards the stadium he takes a quick glance at you and winks. 

“Now we have Ken Sato, one of the most powerful and greatest living baseball players of all time! And oh, did I see a wink? Now the question is, it is to me or is it towards his girlfriend still front in the crowd, Y/n L/n! Oh she looks gorgeous today doesn’t she?” 

They camara man quickly points towards you as you smile and wave, looking up at you at the screen. 

Kenji looks at you from the pitching area and smiles. As he gets prepared for batting a coach walked up to him and whispered in his ear. He stiffed up, looking worried for a second. He then go a back to his normal smile and keeps his eye on the ball. 

You knew something was wrong. 

As the ball was thrown at Kenji, he attempts to hit it, but fail. “Strike one!” The announcement said. Kenji seems to make a loud groan. As you look around, trying to find an answer you see your ex looking at you, smiling. You roll your eyes and gets back to looking at Kenji. He ignores you, as you focuses his eyes on the ball. You lean in, trying to get a better view. 

“Three.. two.. one!” The ball gets thrown again in the air as Kenji fails again to hit it. 

“Fuck!” You hear him yell. You see your ex in the corner, smiling even more. You grit your teeth, trying not to cause a scene. 

“Last chance, Sato! Don’t screw it up!” Kenji sighs and gets back in position as he focuses on the ball again. The pitcher looks annoyed, as he does a lazy throw which Kenji misses. 

“Oh, Sato is out!” 

You see Sato look at the coach and other members angerliy as he storms off. You quickly run out of the stands and run backstage, looking for him. 

“Is his girlfriend following him? That’s so cute- Ow! Okay, I’ll get back to the game, sorry sorry.” The announcer’s voice started to fade away as you looked around for him. You finally found him sitting on the bench, his hands in his face. 

“Are you okay?” You ask quietly, sitting down next to him. 

Kenji chuckles. “Do I look okay?” He asks. You stay silent for a moment until you speak up.

“What’s going on? You never play like this.” 

Kenji looks at you. “Your ex keeps bothering me. It makes me nervous.” 

“You’re never nervous! Don’t let him get to your head.” 

“But.. He’s so much like. He’s better at relationships, I barley know anything. He knows how to treat a girl. I’m so new to this, am I even a good boyfriend?”

You smile softly, slightly tilting your head. “Of course you are. You’re treating me so much better than he ever had.” 

“Really?” He asks. 

“Yes, my love. Now get back on the field, I’ll be cheering you on.” 

Kenji smiles at you and cleans his hand off his shirt. He grabs his bat. “I love you.” 

You smile back. “Love you more.” 

________ 

After the game, you quickly ran towards the back of the field and gave Kenji a big hug. “You were great!” 

Kenji grins loudly and gives a long kiss. Camara starts pointing towards you as people in the crowds are cheering and shouting compliments. 

As you two start walking towards the back you see your ex giving a glare. You roll your eyes and tell Kenji, “Give me a momment, my love.”  

Kenji nods and walks away to the locker room. Your ex tilts his head, raising an eyebrow. You grit your teeth. 

I can do this. 

You start walking up to him as he gives a smug grin. “Miss me?” He asks in a snobby tone. 

You snort. “No.” 

“Then why are you even here?” He says, pulling out a cigarette. He puts it to his mouth and lights it up. He inhales deeply and puffs out some smoke. “Want one?” 

You shake your head, sighing. “Stop bothering Kenji.” 

“Not Kenji.” He snaps. “Ken Sato.” 

“Shut up. Just leave us alone, for god’s sake.” 

He looks up at you for a moment. When you look into his eyes, you realize there’s a bit of sadness in them. 

“Uh..” You try to find something to say.” 

“Okay, I’ll stop.” He says abruptly, as he looks behind you. You raise an eyebrow. 

“Thank you.” You hear behind you, as you whip your head back, you see Kenji giving a small smile. “I appreciate it, man.” 

Your ex looks you for one more time behind walking away. “Let’s go home,” You say quietly. “I’m a bit tired.” 

“Alright.” 

_______ 

𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘸 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 !! 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘱 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 :>

As you and Kenji pull up to the driveway, Mina comes from the large garage and lights up. “Need any assistance, Mr. Sato?” 

“No thanks, Mina.” 

Mina turns to you and repeats, “And you?” 

“I’m okay, thanks.” You smile, as you enter the home. 

“Mina?” Kenji asks, while taking off his jacket. “Can we get some privacy for the rest of the night?” 

You look at Kenji, as he smiles at you. “Yes.” Mina says, as she floats away. 

“Get in bed.” 

“What?” You ask, confused. “Why?” Kenji rolls his eyes and picks you up by the waist as he walks towards the bedroom. 

“Hey!” You scream, trying to get off. “Where are you taking me?” 

Kenji abruptly throws you onto the bed and gets on top of you, as he brings your neck to his lips, giving a long lingering kiss. “Kenji..?” You whine quietly. 

“Mhm?” Kenji whispers and he starts unbuckling his pants. “You need something?” He says while quickly taking off his shirt. You look up at him, directly into his eyes seeing them full of lust and desire, something you’ve never seen from him. 

As Kenji comes down to his underwear he cups your face, as you two go into a long make out, swirling your tongue into his mouth, looking for areas to explore. Your hand slowly goes down to his crouch, as if it’s controlling you. As you start rubbing it, Kenji whimpers quietly. 

“You like that?” He whispers? “It’s only yours, baby.” He starts to remove you purple laced bra, slowly moving down from your neck to your thick nipples. His toungue swirls around them, making sure to get every spot wet, as he takes a deep breath and bites them. 

“Ah!” You moan, trying to contain your excitement. Kenji bites them before slightly getting up, ripping your panties. 

“May I?” He asks. 

You nod as he opens your legs wide open and bends down, sticking his toungue into you. You starts licking around, as if he’s looking for something in there, as you try your best not to cum. 

“Mhm..” Kenji says, while cleaning off some spit. He removes his underwear excited, like a boy on a hot summer day getting his favorite ice cream. “Ready?” he asks. 

You nod again, giving the signal. Kenji smiles and starts inserting himself into you, as his tip reaches the end of your vagina. 

“Agh..” He whimpers. “You’re so deep.” He starts thrusting his hips against you, trying to reach the perfect spot inside of you. You moan loudly, closing your eyes. 

Kenji clasps your tits and grips them slowly while going even faster. “You’re doing amazing.” He whispers, leaning down. He takes himself out and grabs you by the waist to turn you around. 

You quickly get on your back, arching yourself for him as he slaps you ass, causing an unexpected whimper escape from your mouth. He rubs his cock around you ass, making sure everything is as wet as possible before he puts his tip inside of you. He grabs onto your waist, as he quickly starts to thrust inside of you, as the room is full of moans. 

He slaps your ass again, making it as red as a tomato, “I.. I can’t.” You try to finish your sentence before he removes himself from you. “Turn around.”

You turn back from the bed to see him tower over you, his cock looking down at your face. You look up at Kenji who raises an eyebrow, as if he’s expecting something. You nod as you start wrapping his cock around your hand before pushing the tip into your mouth. 

You start to push your head into his cock. You hear him whimper your name,  making it sound like music to your ears. You start going faster as you suddenly grabs your hair and pushes his cock right into your mouth. “Ready?” 

You nod, feeling your eyes watering. He suddenly cums right into your mouth, feeling the wet cream all over you. As you let your mouth escape, he starts to rub his cock right over you face making sure to get everything wet, making you look like a glazed donut. 

You smile as you take some cum from you face with your finger and lick it. “Yum.” You say, grinning while Kenji looks down at you.

“Good girl.”

𝘵𝘺𝘴𝘮 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥! 𝘪𝘭𝘺𝘴𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯 :3

[cutielando]

Heyy, im not sure if you're doing requests or socmed au's,,But if you are... I was wondering if you could do a socmed au with max verstappen in which he's secretly dating a nurse or a med student; where he likes meets her on vacation in croatia where she's studying; she sings in a klapa (a traditional acapella group) and he ends up at one of her performances, and there is like media coverage on how he was seen with an unknown girl,,, they keep their relationship secret until some gossip site gets pics of them together infront of the hospital with her in uniform and they soft launch after that

i know this is like a bit detailed, but i CAN NOT write for the sake of all that is holy

Anyways... Absolutely LOVE your writing❤

loving a nurse | m.v.

my masterlist

Instagram

liked by yourbff, yourbrother and 391 others

yourusername a little time away from the hospital🦋

📍Split, Croatia

view all 16 comments

yourbff i forgot what time off felt like😩

yourusername you and me both😭

yourbrother what's with that swimsuit????😯

yourusername i don't know what you mean

yourbrother you make it so hard to be nice to you

yourusername i know, but you love me regardless

friend1 you look so good!!!❤️ hope you enjoy your vacation!!

yourusername thank you babe!!!❤️

friend2 how does it feel to finally breathe outside of the hospital 🥲🥲

yourusername i kinda miss it, to be honest 😂

yourbff don’t listen to her, she’s drowning in mimosas

yourusername don’t out me

liked by landonorris, alex_albon and 483,175 others

maxverstappen1 summer break has never felt so good

📍Split, Croatia

view all 78,174 comments

landonorris i bet you're enjoying it more than we are ;)

maxverstappen1 shut your mouth

landonorris don't hate me for speaking the truth

maxverstappen1 shut up

alex_albon getting some extra sun in there, maxie boy

maxverstappen1 you're a menace💀

alex_albon i’m speaking the truth 👍🏻

redbullracing hope you have a wonderful break, champ!❤️ you deserve it!! liked by maxverstappen1

user1 he looks so good, Jesus😩😩

user2 why are lando and alex teasing him in the comments???😭

user3 they're probably just trying to embarrass him because he never posts topless pics or something lol

user2 or maybe he met someone while in Croatia??

user3 possible, yeah

georgerussell63 I see you've taken a page from my book on that first photo there ;)

maxverstappen1 i have to learn from the very best😂😂

georgerussell63 you’re doing good for your first time

charles_leclerc where did you disappear last night?

maxverstappen1 i didn’t?

charles_leclerc bro, nobody could find you for hours

landonorris he was up to no good, charlie :))

maxverstappen1 i’ll block you

user4 i wanna live his life so badly 😭😭

user5 same🥲imagine being him

user6 he’s glowing ever since he ended it with Kelly

user4 that bitch was milking the life out of him. he seems to be doing well now

liked by formula1wags, racingforever and 12,184 others

formula1gossip Max Verstappen was spotted at a klapa music night last night in Croatia where he's currently on vacation. Moreso, he was spotted having dinner with one of the members of the group. Is there something going on in the World Champion's love life, so far away from home?

view all 724 comments

user1 MAX???

user2 this is the most Max thing he could ever do

user3 kinda wish this was true, he needs someone after the whole Kelly drama

formula1wags detective mode activated

user4 doing God's work, thank you admin

charles_leclerc so that’s where he was

user5 hahahahaha CHARLES

liked by maxverstappen1, yourbff and 415 others

yourusername back to work 🩺

view all 20 comments

maxverstappen1 nobody can pull off wearing scrubs like you do🫶🏻

yourusername staaaaawp

yourusername who gave you permission to be this sweet???😭

yourbff what about me?

maxverstappen1 i only have eyes for Y/N

yourusername atta boy 😊

yourbrother i don’t like all of this flirting in the comments 😒

yourusername okay

yourbrother did you hear what i said??

yourusername no, i read it

yourbrother stop being a smartass

yourusername never 😋😋

charles_leclerc glad to see the mystery girl has a name

maxverstappen1 stay away

charles_leclerc calm down

yourusername baby, be nice

charles_leclerc yes baby, be nice

liked by formula1wags, maxiesbaby and 11,482 others

formula1gossipp Is Max Verstappen off the market? The reigning F1 champion was seen outside the hospital getting cozy with a nurse. We can confirm Max was NOT a patient at the hospital, seemingly only spending a few minutes with her before he departed and she rushed back into the emergency room. Is our World Champion officially a taken man?

view all 572 comments

user1 no way he bagged a nurse😂

user2 even though this is an incredible invasion of his privacy, if this is true then i'm so happy for him🙏🏻

user3 i hope they're together, whoever she is☺️

user4 finally, we're free of kelly

user5 i honestly thought he wouldn’t get away from her 🥲🥲

iMessage

maxie💙

i'm sorry..

y/n🩷

?????

what happened?

maxie💙

there were some paparazzi at the hospital last night, they took some pictures of us and posted them online

they can't see your face

but they definitely know it was me

y/n🩷

babe

it's okay

it was bound to happen eventually

maxie💙

i don't want you to lose your privacy because of me

you need to focus on your studies

not deal with this

y/n🩷

babe

i knew what i was getting myself into when we started dating

i'm almost finished with my studies

nobody is distracting me from anything

don't worry, i'm good

maxie💙

so we can tell the world about us?

y/n🩷

if you want, then yes

maxie💙

i want everyone to know i have the hottest and smartest girl😮‍💨

y/n🩷

you’re making me blush

baby

i miss you so much

i can’t wait to join you 😭

maxie💙

not more than me

i’m counting down the days until i see you 💙

Instagram

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 2,194,573 others

maxverstappen1 yes, the rumors are true. i have a girlfriend, and she is indeed a nurse at the local hospital in Croatia. we decided to keep the relationship to ourselves because i didn't want her privacy taken away from her, or her focus shifted from her studies. i wish we could have had the opportunity of announcing this on our own terms, but the paparazzi got the best of us this time. i urge you all to be respectful towards her, any hate towards her will absolutely not be tolerated by me or anyone from my team. i hope you will come to love and respect her as much as i do

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comments and re-blogs help us grow!

much appreciated!!

REQUEST HERE

[lionneee]

Perfect Match

English is not my first language, please be kind

Masterlist

Taglist

•Warnings: oral sex, fake relationship, talking of sexual themes, piv, smut.•

Modern!Aemond x Fem!Reader

Part One -> Part Two -> Part Three -> Part Four -> Part Five

For as long as they had been together, Aemond never remembered her in his room. She actually has never been there at all.

She had been at her house to meet his parents, show them what a perfect couple they were, but they left to go out after that.

So he could understand her confusion when he pulled her in his car, and passed her house.

“Aemond… where are we going?” She complained as she leaned back on the seat, her drunk ass getting whiny.

“To my house.” He responded coldly as he kept driving, his eye fixed on the road. She hummed as she tried to get comfortable on her seat. Her dress kept riding up as she moved, but she was too drunk to care.

“Why?” She asked then. Aemond sighed and tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

“Because I said so. Now shut up.” He grunted as he massaged his temple.

He pulled in the parking spot of his house and got off his truck, going to open her door and helped her out. She stumbled a bit, but he kept her tightly by her hips, preventing her from falling on her face.

“Take off those damn heels if you can’t walk in them.” He sighed as he knelt on the floor to take them out of her feet. She leaned down and put a hand on his shoulder and another on the top of his head to keep her balance as she chuckled.

“Now you’re going down on me? That’s fair…” She smiled as she laughed, leaning back on the car as soon as he took her first heel off. Aemond rolled his eye as he moved to the other heel.

“No. Just stay still, for Christ sake.” He scoffed as he finally managed to take her other heel off.

“Oh, come on…” She chuckled as she spread her legs and pushed his face between her thighs, moaning just for the contact. He growled as he grabbed her thighs tightly.

“We’re outside.” He said as he pushed his head back and looked up at her with a glare, showing off his annoyance.

She looked down at him with her drunken smile, her eyes filled with lust and desire. He growled at her face and lifted one of her thighs on his shoulder, pressing his nose to her clit through the fabric.

She was so drunk he could make her come in a few licks.

He pushed the fabric aside, diving his tongue to her core, lapping at her with hunger, thirst.

He raised her thigh over his shoulder, pushing his face further, sucking her clit hard, until he felt her shaking slightly, her hands flying in his hair as she pulled them.

“Oh, baby…” She moaned. “Yes, yes – Make me come -” She gasped as her hips jerked, her core rubbing against his mouth as he did his best to keep his mouth on her clit, following her movements. He managed to catch a glimpse of her from his position, her mouth open, her eyes closed and her brow arched.

He knew that expression perfectly.

He knew she was close.

He slipped two of his fingers inside her, she moaned surprised, but more turned on by the new sudden stimulation as he gently rubbed her walls with the tip of his fingers, giving her just enough to come on his tongue with a strangled moan.

“You’re lucky you weren’t very loud.” He sighed as he stood up, letting her leg down and looking around them.

They were covered by the car anyway, but a little check couldn’t hurt.

He took her hand and led her inside the house.

It was an old manor outside, but his parents completely modernized the inside.

He glanced back at her as already at the entry door, he could hear the voices of his parents fighting once again, but she seemed too lost in looking at the furniture to actually hear them.

Aemond clenched his jaw as his parents' voices kept getting higher, pulling his girlfriend more forcely, trying to get her to his room before she could start to ask questions.

If their parents knew that someone other than their children had witnessed one of their nasty fights, they would have gone crazy.

But she wouldn’t move.

He was seriously getting angry with her, and he was ready to grab her and throw her over his shoulder if necessary 

She finally stopped looking at the ceilings and looked at him.

Straight in the eye.

She smiled.

Compassion.

Understanding.

He did not expect… that. It left him stunned, frozen. 

She took the lead, and started walking upstairs, where she would have expected his room to be.

Aemond got back to himself as she was about to walk past his bedroom, so he silently and gently tugged her back, guiding her to his door and letting her inside.

There was only a faint glow of the moonlight filtering through the windows

Aemond moved to switch the light on, but she grabbed his hand before he touched the switch.

“I like the dark.” She said gently, her voice was soft.

So soft.

He never heard her talk to him like that, not even when they played the perfect couple.

It tugged something in his chest. He didn’t even know it could have happened to him again.

He liked the dark too.

They both moved, they both walked towards each other, until their bodies were pressed together and their mouths were on each other.

It wasn’t their usual make out rough kiss. It was gentle, even if deep, soft even if messy.

He felt her hands slide in his hair, messing them up as she pulled him closer, trying to slip her tongue as deep as it would go. He wrapped a hand on the back of her neck in return, securing her close as he squeezed her bottom with his other hand.

He brought her home to fuck her raw on his bed, slap her ass, choke her as she came.

Those thoughts were far away as he slowly pulled down the strap of her stupid pink satin dress. They were away as he gently laid her on his bed,  as he caressed her whole body, gently, feeling every curve of hers.

For once, he didn’t feel like ruining her.

He laid on top of her, moving her hair off her face as he leaned back down to kiss her again.

She was only wearing her panties under that dress, no bra.

He quickly pulled his shirt off, throwing it somewhere in the room as he moved back down to kiss her neck, her jaw, feeling her back arch against him, her chest rubbing against his.

He widened her legs enough to fit between them, grinding slowly against her core as they kept kissing. They both let out a sigh at the pleasurable friction, their kiss getting more intense as she lowered her hands to his pants, unbuckling his belt and pulling down the zipper, trying to free him from his confines. 

She slipped her hand in his boxers and she slowly started to pump his cock, slowly, caressing him gently, squeezing the tip whenever her hand passed over it, making him breath in deeply every time. He caressed her neck, moving slowly to her breast, gently caressing every inch of her skin as he slowly started to jerk his hips towards her hand, his own moving to her stomach, then inside her panties. He pressed two fingers on her clit, circling it slowly, putting enough pressure to see her eyes roll in the back of her head. She used her free hand to cover her mouth as her own hips started moving, accompanying the movements of his fingers, trying to get more, trying to bring herself again to the brink of another orgasm.

She moaned softly, her sounds muffled by her hand as she started to pump him faster, squeezing him more as his fingers circled her pearl quickly, making her back arch and her head lean back.

“Come for me.” He whispered as he looked at her. “Show me how beautiful you are when you come.”

She did just that.

Her eyes shut closed as a whine escaped her lips, her hand tightening around his length as her hips trembled, letting them fall back down on his bed.

He guided her hand away from his cock, kissing it before bringing his fingers to his mouth, licking them as he looked at her in the eyes.

The dim light of the moon made the sight of her purely ethereal, her mouth slightly agape and her pupils dilating at the sight of him made him feel a warm feeling inside his chest.

He leaned down, resting on his elbows at each side of her head, and he kissed her again, gently, slowly.

He felt like he had all the time in the world.

He didn’t want this moment to end.

She kissed him back just as gently, wrapping her arm around his neck and playing with his long hair, her legs spreading at their maximum as she pressed her hand on her lower back, pulling him closer.

Aemond grabbed his cock and passed it over her core before pushing it inside her, resting his forehead against hers.

She breathed in shakingly as she felt him, splitting her walls apart, making space for himself inside her.

She didn’t even have to adapt anymore.

It was like she was made for him.

It was like he was made for her.

A perfect match.

He wrapped his arm above her head, keeping her still as he slowly pushed all of his length inside her, panting.

He liked it hard and fast.

He liked to fuck.

But he couldn’t remember sex feeling any better than it did at that moment.

She put a hand on his cheek, looking in his eye as he started to move.

Slow, soft and gentle.

She let out a low moan as his cock caressed her walls, his tip hitting the right place where she felt the most pleasure, making her breath hitch and gasp every time he reached it.

They didn’t talk.

They didn’t know what to say.

Words were futile at that moment.

There was nothing their eyes weren’t already saying to each other.

He moved his face beside hers, both their mouths were at the other ear level, they could both hear their breath getting heavier as he moved just a little bit faster. Her foot moved to caress his calf as her hand moved on the back of his head, caressing it. He tightened his arms above her head making her nuzzle between his neck and shoulder, keeping her close to him as he felt his orgasm reaching him faster than he expected.

She whined in his neck, her arm tightening around his neck, bringing him even closer as she clenched around him, squeezing him in her warmth, like an encouragement to fill her up, to let himself go inside her.

He moved faster, the head of his cock touching her sweet spot with more intensity, her moans raising of volume as she pressed her forehead against the side of his neck, her thighs trying to close as she reached her orgasm.

He turned his head so he could hiss her, swallowing every sound they made as they came together.

They kept grinding against each other until they calmed down, Aemond let himself fall on his side on the bed, bringing her with him. He moved his hand on the back of her thigh and hoisted it up around his waist so he could stay inside her.

When he opened his eye he found her already looking at her, her lips parted, her breathing still ragged.

She moved closer, silently watching him.

None of them dared to look away from the other, until eventually, they both fell asleep in the other’s embrace.

Taglist: @ka1afbr @cynic-spirit @ladythornofrivia @zenka69 @queenofthekeep @adorewhatever @diannnnsss @kotadislikesthissite @iloveallmyboys @valyrianflower @dixie-elocin @gelacat0413 @quinquinquincy @mamawiggers1980 @darylandbethfanforever9 @rhaethoughts @believeinthefireflies95 @urfavnoirette @summerposie @sk1mah1 @queenofshinigamis @anukulee @chlmtfilms @m-riaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @malfoycassimalfoy

[nadvs]

For sleeping with the enemy, can we get Rafe and reader first time saying “I love you.” How would that go for them? Who would say it first?

ofc!! she says it first and it comes out during a fight 👀

based on this fic, mentioned in this blurb

he’s been living a three-hour flight away for one month of their seven-month relationship. she’s still in college while he’s playing in the nba and she’s visiting him for the first time since he moved.

after they got to his condo from the airport, they slept together and now they’re eating dinner in his kitchen. there’s still tension between them, because of how much they’ve been arguing on the phone since he left. because of how they had a silent spell for days and she said they needed it. because they weren’t even in a good place to begin with when he moved away.

rafe asked if that was goodbye sex they just had and she won’t even entertain the thought. she worries he’ll never get over his fear of abandonment, so she reassures him that she doesn’t want to leave him.

he brings up things she said in their last argument, spiteful things she regrets, and she says, “i didn’t mean that. we both say things to hurt each other and we need to stop.”

and he says, “the shit i say isn’t even close to the shit you say.”

she leans back in her chair, her mouth firm. he always does this, tries to convince her that what she did was worse.

“i can’t fight with you again,” she says. “i swear, it’s like you push me away on purpose.”

“me? you’re the one who said we needed a break.”

“we did. but only because all we were doing was arguing.”

rafe stands up, sighing heavily, the heels of his hands covering his eyes. he always does this when they argue, making distance between them. sometimes she’s worried he’ll storm out.

“for fuck’s sake,” he mutters, so damn defeated that they’re fighting again.

she exhales quietly, feeling her throat tightening with tears. this has been so exhausting. she watches him pace around his kitchen. his new high-rise is such a big, shiny reminder of his new life. she worries she doesn’t have a place in it sometimes.

“i just meant i’d rather we take some time off than fight,” she says.

“well, i’d rather fight.”

“and just keep hurting each other?”

“it hurts more not talking to you,” rafe admits.

a few seconds of silence pass between them.

“i don’t want to break up,” she says softly.

“you think i do?” he snaps.

“no. but i think you force me to talk sometimes and then when i do talk, you hold grudges over the things i say.”

“hard not to,” he mutters.

she looks down at the table, eyelids fluttering shut.

“i don’t…” she begins. “my mind is blank at this point. i don’t get why we can’t just be how we were before.”

“because you talk like that,” he says. “like there’s no way we’ll work things out.”

“i don’t,” she counters. “all i’m saying is i miss when we were happy.”

his heart drops. he leans against the counter, eyes boring into her.

“you’re not happy?” he says quietly.

“in general, with you, i am,” she tells him. “but right now? are you? honestly?”

he crosses his arms, jaw tightening as he gazes at her. she looks so broken, sitting at his kitchen table, her lip trembling.

“no,” he admits. how could he be happy when there’s a hole where his heart should be?

she nods in a way that confirms that she knew it.

“it hurts not talking to you, too,” she finally says. “just so you know.”

she watches rafe from across the kitchen, gazing at his profile as he looks down. he doesn’t seem to believe her.

so, even though she’s absolutely terrified that he won’t say it back, that he’s already giving up on them because he seems so convinced that she has, she stands and slowly approaches him, resting her hands on his shoulders, rubbing the back of his neck.

“i love you, you know that?” she says. his eyes soften, the tension on his shoulders unraveling.

“what?” his voice is almost at a whisper.

“you want me to say it again?” she says with a small smile.

“yeah. say it again.”

“i love you.”

“i love you,” he tells her, his words rushed. “i love you so much. i loved you before you were even my girlfriend.”

her stomach numbs.

“you did?” she says.

he closes his lips over hers, his face almost twisting in pain over how badly he needed to hear that. he kisses her over and over, spiralling into breathlessness.

“why didn’t you tell me?” she whispers, their foreheads touching.

“because if you didn’t say it back, i think i’d die,” rafe admits. he’s never told a girl he loved her. he never got even close to love with anyone else.

but even when they were just friends, he’d take every opportunity to stare at her, to sink into the sound of her laughter. he loved her before he knew he could love somebody.

“do you think we could start my visit right now?” she says. “everything before now doesn’t count. we have a blank slate. can we do that?”

rafe nods.

“we can do that.”

“do you want to take a walk around the city?” she asks. “your condo’s nice, but i’d like to actually explore.”

he smirks. and he thinks about how nice it’d be for her to call it their condo one day.

“yeah,” he agrees.

[run-little-hero]

“Can you remember the last time we had a moment alone like this?” Villain asks, far too pleased for Hero’s liking. They should’ve duct taped their mouth shut after tying them up.

“No, nor do I care.” They riffle through a stack of papers.

“I think I remember it,” Villain begins.

“Keep it to yourself. I’m trying to concentrate.”

The restraints creak against Villain’s wrists as they shift in the chair. “It was the time I’d nearly decimated one of your compounds. Not the most special part of that day by any means, however.”

“Villain.”

“The whole plan backfired on me, I’ll admit. Quite literally backfired. I don’t remember anything between detonating my weapon and waking to the sight of you.” Hero stills, recalling the moment. “I do remember how close you were. How close you got when you thought I wouldn’t make it. I never thought you’d be the one to make the first move, but—“

Papers forgotten, a hand grips Villain’s throat. Just a warning—hardly any pressure applied. Hero looms over Villain’s restricted figure, dauntingly displeased.

“Perhaps I should have clarified this after the incident. But I thought we had a mutual understanding to never speak of that day again.”

Hero can feel Villain’s trachea roll under their palm as they swallow. Their voice reverberates in cartilage as they utter, “We should be able to talk about it. It’s just us.”

It’s never just them. Their ever-present commitment to warring causes will always be a third wheel. Hero settles for, “We can’t go there. For both our sakes.” Their hand slides from Villain’s neck to their shoulder.

“I want to.”

“I don’t.” Hero straightens, intending to leave the topic and return to their stack of papers.

Before they can turn around, Villain’s leg wraps around their ankle and pulls them back towards the chair. They collapse onto Villain’s lap, righting themself only to be met with smug smile. Villain laughs.

Then, neither of them move. They stare into each other’s eyes and remain silent, like a single word could shatter the fledgling, fragile reality they’ve wandered into. Hero doesn’t mind the company in this place.

Villain voices a request. “Untie me, please.” Yet, they seem to fear the idea of that freedom. “I won’t run I promise, just…I want to be close to you.”

Superhero once told Hero their weakness is to abandon rationale. How calculating and decisive Hero can be in one moment, then blindsided by desire in another. But they believe Villain and recognize it is their weakness to accept entrapment.

Hero reasons, “You only feel this way because of how doomed we are.”

“Give me more credit for the depth of my emotions,” Villain scoffs.

Anchored by tension, Hero takes out a pocket knife and reaches behind Villain, swiftly sawing through the rope binding their wrists. Villains arms circle Hero as soon as they’re freed.

“Thank you,” they mutter, burying their face into Hero’s chest.

Hero shuts their eyes. “You’re making this difficult for me.”

“Too bad.”

They sigh, hands splayed across Villain’s back. “What are we gonna do?”

—

snippet #9

[vixstarria]

The Sheath of Frontiers

So, in light of the disparity between the amount of Wyll content compared with the other companions, I felt it would be prudent for my Tav and Astarion to seduce him. Enjoy!

AO3

Astarion x F!Tav x Wyll

18+, humour, smut, threesome, soft dom/service top Astarion, sub/bottom Wyll, Tav and Astarion are both little shits, anal etc

This is probably more really lewd and descriptive comedy than erotica, you have been warned.

Approx. 3,400 words (gods, these things just keep getting longer and longer)

Written in 3rd person, and Tav's name is... *drumroll* Tav. Hey, I don't know who you want to relate to here, take your pick.

Tav, Astarion and Wyll occupied a booth at the Elfsong. They were the last ones still up drinking after a long day roaming the city. 

“But don’t you ever feel... tempted?” Astarion threw Wyll a sultry look from beneath his eyelashes, circling the rim of his wineglass with one finger.  

Tav had been watching the subtle seduction show unfold for the past while. She wasn’t sure whether Wyll was oblivious to Astarion’s flirtation, or impervious to it, but either way, the man would not budge.  

“Call me a hopeless romantic, but I want the moment to be special for my one and only. Anticipated. Meaningful. And what could hold more significance than waiting until after marriage vows?” Wyll answered. 

“Yes, yes, you are ever the romantic hero and want to make it ‘special’ for your chosen one, blah blah...” Astarion rolled his eyes, sipping his wine spiked with Tav’s blood. “But you’ve admitted you’re no virgin, it’s not as though you’re ‘saving yourself’ for anyone. What about casual no strings encounters? Simple carnal lust, for hells’ sake!” 

“You never know when or where you might find true love. Wouldn’t want to accidentally spoil it from the beginning,” Wyll said, with a smile and a head shake. 

Astarion threw a quick look of pure vexation at Tav, as she tried to hide her laugh behind her own goblet. She’d told him he wouldn’t be able to crack the ‘Blade of Frontiers’ - something he took as a personal challenge.  

“Hmm... You know, you should marry us!” Astarion suddenly exclaimed. “I would make an exemplary spouse for a duke! You should see me entertain at balls. Tav might be found to be acceptable as well, after a good scrub.” 

Tav threw a piece of pie crust at Astarion in response. 

“We wouldn’t accept your proposal without a test ride, though,” Astarion warned.  

“What, marry both of you? ...First of all, polygamy is not legal.” Wyll seemed a bit thrown off by the sudden change in the direction of the conversation.  

“So make it legal, the reigns of power are in your hands. Or will be,” Astarion shrugged. 

“Astarion, we both know the entire legal system would collapse if polygamy was to be permitted officially. Can you imagine all the complications? Especially all the implications it would bear for noble families and their hereditary lines of succession,” the future Duke Ravengard rambled.  

“I see what you’re saying, and I agree, but there could be a provision to allow persons who are unable to produce heirs to marry into the noble families as secondary spouses,” Astarion countered. “And you could always implement obligatory prenuptial agreements to simplify asset division.” 

Tav screamed inwardly: once Astarion started talking legalese the only way to get him to shut up was by literally occupying his mouth with something else, one way or another. 

Meanwhile, Wyll shook his head. 

“That would only serve to provide obligation-free unfair advantage to such persons,” he said. “It is nothing but furthering nepotism.” 

“I see nothing wrong with persons gaining unfair advantage, as long as I am those persons,” Astarion parried. 

“I could marry Tav and provide you with some kind of concubine status, if you wish,” Wyll suggested. 

“Not interested,” Astarion scoffed, sipping his wine. “I’m afraid we’re a package deal.” 

Tav groaned in frustration and got up.  

“I’ve had enough of this. Wyll, you don’t need to worry about spoiling any 'precious moments’ here - neither Astarion nor I have any interest in letting you make honest people of us anyway.” 

“Speak for yourself,” Astarion muttered with a huff, sipping more of his wine. 

“Shut up, Astarion,” Tav threw. “I’m going upstairs, and I, for one, intend to fuck this vampire before the night is over. Are you coming with us or not?” 

Astarion choked on his drink. If this was all it would take to lure the Blade into their bed – Tav would never let him live it down. 

“I uh... I must confess – I have never done that before,” Wyll said, visibly flustered. 

“What, fuck a vampire? Most people haven’t.” Tav shrugged. 

“Not that either, but what I meant was... be intimate with a man,” Wyll forced out. 

He jumped a little as he suddenly found Astarion’s lips a hair’s breadth away from his ear. He hadn’t noticed the vampire inching closer to him. 

“Would you like to..?” Astarion purred. 

“It’s nothing you haven’t done yourself hundreds of times, what’s so shameful and difficult?” Tav teased. 

“That's not true,” Wyll protested.  

Tav tilted her head and shot him a look that said ‘oh please’. 

“No, I mean that. Ever since I... entered that contract, I’ve hardly ever indulged. Never know when she might be watching. ...Doesn’t your patron ever watch as well..?” 

“Sometimes...” Tav mused. “But after a while it’s like fucking with a cat in the room. You learn to ignore it. As long as it doesn’t jump on the bed and sniff your asscrack while you’re in the middle of it, it’s fine.” 

“Ahem,” Astarion cleared his throat. “Can we please concentrate on the matter at hand?” 

Astarion sat on the edge of the bed in full naked glory as Tav, also in a state of almost total undress, sat behind him, resting her chin on his shoulder, one arm wrapped around his waist, the other stroking his cock.  

Meanwhile, Wyll perched on the opposite edge of the bed, trying to look anywhere but at the couple in front of him.  

“Eyes down here, darling,” Astarion drawled. “If Miz-” 

“Don’t say her name!” 

“If that skank decides to show up, she’ll get more than she’s bargained for.” 

Wyll finally allowed himself to gape openly at the scene in front of him.

Astarion’s cock was surprisingly thick and veined, and flushed at the tip. Perhaps it was the only part of him that could be flushed with blood. Wyll tried, habitually, to distract himself from his own arousal with thoughts of the workings behind vampire erections, to no avail – his own cock was straining against his pants almost painfully. He observed, almost in a state of a surreal daze, as Tav used her thumb to spread a new bead of precum over the head of Astarion’s cock, and reflexively licked his lips.  

She noticed and let out a satisfied hum. 

“Why don’t you come help?” she purred. 

“Hmm?” Wyll seemed to snap out of his daze. “You want me to take over..?” 

“No, like I said, this is hardly something you haven’t done before – try something new.” Tav grinned. “Why don’t you come down here and kneel in front of him?” 

Somehow, Wyll’s legs got him down onto the floor between Astarion’s thighs. The vampire himself leaned back against Tav, his head thrown back over her shoulder, with a vague smile on his lips. 

“Really...?” Wyll breathed a shaky laugh. “I thought we would start with some baby steps. Maybe a kiss..?” 

“No, no darling...” Tav cooed. “Don’t be silly. Kissing is way too intimate. Just lick his balls for now.” 

Still not quite believing what was happening, Wyll went ahead and did as he was told. Two things, he noticed immediately. One, the overwhelming scent of Astarion’s musk was making his head spin. He wanted to simply bury his nose in the spot between his shaft and balls and inhale, but he wasn’t sure whether that would be appropriate. And two, his ministrations immediately made Astarion groan, the sound sweet music to his ears. 

By then Tav had moved out from behind Astarion’s back and lounged on the bed next to him, her hand still stroking his cock, and watched Wyll’s efforts. 

“Good boy,” she purred approvingly. 

“Love?” Astarion said.  

“Hmm?” Tav hummed. 

“You talk too much.”  

Wyll watched Astarion push her head, quite unceremoniously, down towards his groin. She let out a somewhat annoyed sound, but went right on, taking his cock in her mouth. 

“Finally, some silence,” Astarion groaned.  

Once again, Wyll found himself gawking at the display now mere inches before him, as she worked the length of Astarion’s erection with her lips, her cheeks hollowing - obviously a practiced motion for the two, as they entered a familiar rhythm, Astarion’s hips bucking up, his fingers tangled in her hair, as she bobbed her head.  

Tav’s eyes met Wyll’s, and she released Astarion’s dick from her mouth, with a loud plopping sound and a sigh. She lifted Wyll’s chin with one finger.  

“Now you can take over,” she whispered, getting up.  

Wyll hesitated, taking Astarion’s cock in his hand.  

‘Huh... Not cold at all,’ he thought.  

“Don’t tell me the Blade is intimidated,” Astarion taunted. 

Wyll tried to think of a witty retort, but, for once, his mind was blank, and in any event it hardly seemed appropriate to orate and put on heroic airs whilst on his knees between Astarion’s legs. He decided it would be prudent to simply put the dick in his mouth.  

Tav had made it look so easy... She slurped that thing up like a horse with a carrot. But Wyll found himself struggling, despite quite enjoying the taste and sensation of tender skin on his tongue. 

Astarion sucked his breath in, with a hiss.  

“Teeth...” he said. “We keep our teeth behind our lips, darling.” 

Wyll tried to mumble an apology without removing Astarion’s cock from his mouth.  

“And don’t talk with your mouth full. Gods, you’re from a decent family, haven’t they taught you any manners..? ...There, that’s better.” 

“Is he doing a good job?” Wyll heard Tav’s voice somewhere in the room.  

“Well...” said Astarion.  

“Hey!” she exclaimed. “Wyll, honey, you know you can bite him if he’s mean to you, right? You’re the one with the power here, right now.” She got back on the bed, holding something in her hand. “But why are you still dressed?” she laughed.  

Wyll released Astarion from his mouth and fumbled with his clothing. Meanwhile, Tav had slid onto Astarion’s lap, and they busied themselves with each other. Their sheer hunger for one another, as they kissed and exchanged caresses, made Wyll feel like a third wheel, but Tav quickly turned her attention back to him.  

“My love, I think he’s bored,” she said to Astarion. “Should we wake Halsin up again?”  

“Are you trying to educate or traumatise him..?” Astarion murmured in response. “But that reminds me of something...” 

Astarion positioned Tav to sit on his lap with her back against him, guiding her onto his cock. She moaned as he entered her, his knees spreading her legs as his hands roamed her body, stroking between her legs as he bucked his hips up into her.  

“It was such a breathtaking view, I thought he would enjoy it as well,” he murmured. “Like what you see?” he directed at Wyll. 

Nothing in Wyll’s life had prepared him for this. Eyes locked on the spectacle before him, he had at last begun stroking himself, staying in time with Astarion’s movements. He didn’t notice as Astarion went to whisper something in Tav’s ear.  

“Do you want to taste her?” Astarion goaded.  

“Yes,” Wyll breathed, leaning forward. 

“Ah ah! Not like that.” Astarion intercepted him, pulling out of Tav. She got up, returning onto the bed with a giggle. Astarion’s cock glistened with her juices.  

“Go ahead now,” Astarion purred. 

Wyll eagerly took Astarion into his mouth again. Tav’s taste on Astarion’s cock combined with Astarion’s own precum was absolutely divine, and Wyll greedily lapped up as much as he could.  

“Much, much better this time...” Astarion purred approvingly. “Consider that a little treat... But that’s enough now. Come here...” Astarion pulled Wyll up by one of his horns, directing him onto the bed and pushing against his chest until he was on his back.  

Tav angled a pillow under his head so his horns wouldn’t get in the way, and laid down on her side near Wyll, and smiled at him, lightly caressing his face with her fingertips. Wyll’s heart beat like a mad thing trying to break out of its cage, as Astarion crawled on top of him, with a predatory look in his eyes. 

“So just how... ‘intimate’ were you thinking of getting?” Tav asked, softly.  

Wyll swallowed hard as Astarion emitted a soft growl and started kissing down his neck, his hand slowly working its way up the inside of Wyll’s thigh.  

“Is this about my blood, or are we now well enough acquainted to kiss..?” Wyll managed. 

Astarion lifted his head with a small sigh. 

“She’s asking whether the Blade might want to become a sheath for a spell,” he explained.  

Wyll found himself at a loss for words again.  

“...Can’t the Blade remain a blade?” he asked, finally.  

“That’s not on the table today, darling,” Astarion shook his head. “But we can entertain ourselves in other ways.” 

“Well then I uh... I think yes maybe..?” Wyll sputtered. 

“Yes what..?” Astarion asked, his voice low and husky, rolling over to lay on Wyll’s other side. “Do you want me to fuck you? Say it.” 

Any words Wyll might have said died somewhere between his racing heart and his suddenly parched throat, but his cock twitched visibly, jerking up and landing with a resounding thud on his abdomen.  

Tav and Astarion both turned their heads at the impressive display. 

“Why don’t I take it slow, and you can tell me if you want to stop at any moment..?” Astarion asked, unable to contain a grin. 

Wyll did not object to that. 

Tav had been trailing her fingertips lower and lower, leaving feather light caresses on Wyll’s skin, until she reached his straining erection. Meanwhile, Astarion had reached for the object she’d retrieved earlier. It turned out to be a vial with some kind of oil.  

“You’re in expert hands, you know,” she whispered in his ear. “I’ll admit, I’m actually excited for you.” 

Wyll watched Astarion pour some of the oil on his fingers. Lying between Tav and Astarion, he gained the distinct impression of having a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other.  

‘Who am I kidding?’ he thought. ‘They’re both devils.’ 

Tav reached and took his cock in her hand, just as Astarion spread some oil on it, before moving down to cup and gently tug on his balls with his hand. 

“Ah, you weren’t kidding about bumps and ridges!” Tav giggled. “My, they look fun!” 

“Bring your knees up,” Astarion purred.  

Wyll swiftly complied, and the vampire went to nibble on Wyll’s earlobe as his hand slipped lower. His finger circled and teased his puckered hole, while Tav continued to stroke his cock. 

“Do you want me to stop?” Astarion whispered in his ear. 

“Hnngaa-ah!” said Wyll, bringing his knees higher. 

Tav and Astarion exchanged a look.  

“I think that meant ‘no, don’t stop’,” said Tav.  

“I think so too,” Astarion agreed. “Very well.” 

Astarion applied more and more pressure as he teased Wyll’s hole.  

“Try to relax,” he purred, working a single finger in. “Breathe... It’s just a finger, for crying out loud.” 

Wyll whimpered, his cock twitching again, to Tav’s immediate delight, as Astarion continued to gradually work his digit in further, thrusting in and out, spreading more oil in and around.  

“That’s it,” Astarion whispered. “I think we can add one more.” 

Astarion’s thrusting had grown more persistent, as he added another finger, all the while watching Wyll’s expression with a lidded gaze.  

Wyll was finding himself being reduced to a blushing, mewling mess, throwing his head back as much as his horns would allow, with his eyes shut.  

Tav had begun licking and nibbling on his neck. 

“Do you like it?” Tav purred, as Wyll nodded. “Think you’re ready for more?” 

“Yes,” he whispered, almost inaudibly, rolling his hips in time with Astarion’s fingers now. His cock was leaking obscene amounts of precum onto Tav’s hand as she continued to play with it. 

“Get down here then,” Astarion directed him closer to the edge of the bed without pulling his fingers out.  

“Do be gentle, Astarion, it’s his first time after all,” Tav called out as Wyll slipped out from her hand, drawn after Astarion. She got up to wet a washcloth in the basin, leaving it within Astarion’s reach.  

‘Is that..? Oh. Well, that makes sense.’ Wyll’s scrambled brain thought.  

“Well, if I can’t marry into the Ravengard family, I guess I’ll settle for deflowering the heir,” Astarion grinned. 

Wyll let out an involuntary whine as Astarion’s fingers left his ass. 

“Don’t worry, darling, there’s more on the way,” Astarion drawled.  

Wyll watched Astarion spread more oil on his own cock, before falling back again, shutting his eyes and whimpering in anticipation.  

Astarion set a torturously slow pace as he worked his cock in, stretching Wyll more and more with slow, shallow thrusts that gradually grew deeper and deeper. 

“Good...” Astarion groaned, slowly sliding in and out of Wyll almost fully now. “Who knew you’d be so good...” 

He picked up the pace, setting a steady rhythm with his thrusts once it was clear Wyll was comfortable with it.  

“So how does it feel to be fucked?” Astarion asked with a devilish grin.

“Oh leave him be, he’s already going through a lot” Tav cut in, reclining near Wyll again.  

Wyll looked up at her. She was smiling at him so sweetly... He reached towards her. 

“I didn’t say you could touch her,” Astarion warned with a forceful thrust, making Wyll yelp. 

“I wouldn’t anger him, if I were you,” Tav whispered, slowly running a finger down between the ridges of his muscles. “He still holds a grudge about your little seduction attempt back in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, you know.” 

“What in the hells are you two gossiping about..?” followed from Astarion.  

“My heart, he’s doing so well, don’t you think he’s earned another little treat?” Tav asked Astarion, ignoring his question.  

“I’m the only one here who’s earned any treats,” Astarion muttered. “But sure.”  

He slowly pulled his hard length out of Wyll. 

“On your feet!” 

Wyll scrambled up, bending over the edge of the bed. Tav stayed on the bed, edging over to sit before him with her legs spread. 

“Still want a taste?” she purred with a wicked smile. 

Astarion entered him again, with a perhaps slightly too forceful thrust, making Wyll collapse face-first between Tav’s legs. With a groan, he plunged his tongue between her folds, earning a moan from her.  

Wyll’s efforts might have been somewhat sloppy, but he made up for it in sheer enthusiasm as he lapped at her, eagerly. 

Unbeknown to Wyll, Astarion caught Tav’s eyes and raised a questioning eyebrow at her. She shrugged and waved her fingers in a ‘so-so’ motion back at him. Astarion nodded with a roll of his eyes.  

Wyll was caught off-guard when Astarion reached around him to take his neglected cock in his hand.  

“Let’s get you off and let you rest, little prince,” Astarion murmured.  

His cool hand was firm and practiced in a way that Tav’s simply could not be, its deliberate movements incessantly urging Wyll towards a release. 

Wyll completely lost all traces of composure and simply moaned between Tav’s legs as Astarion worked him.  

“Can’t multi-task, darling?” Astarion teased. “That’s alright, I’ll finish that job myself later as well.” 

Wyll lifted himself on his arms, trying to push his hips back against Astarion’s as Tav slipped out from under him. 

“Alright, give him a peck, I know he wants one so desperately...” Astarion said begrudgingly. 

Tav returned to lift Wyll’s head and kissed him, tenderly, her tongue swirling and dancing against his, as Astarion continued to fuck and stroke him.  

“I said a peck! Gods, woman, offer you a hand – you'll take the whole arm, every time.” 

Astarion’s grip on Wyll’s cock tightened, his hand speeding up, until Wyll couldn’t take it anymore and finally erupted, crying out and whimpering into Tav’s mouth, as he spilled a thick and well overdue load onto the sheets as Astarion continued to stroke him.  

He was still gasping, trying to catch his breath when Astarion slid out of him, giving Wyll's ass a loud smack, before wiping himself and Wyll down.  

At last, Wyll collapsed on the bed next to Tav.  

“Gods...” was all he could muster.  

Astarion gave him a self-satisfied smirk as he joined them on the bed, kissing his way up Tav’s leg.  

“Now shall I show you how to actually satisfy a woman? So you know what to do with your ‘one and only’ later?” 

~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed, this work is part of a series, check out the rest of it

AO3

~~~~~

Tag list:

@littleenglishfangirl @something-pithy @darlingxdragon @tallymonster @tragedybunny @spunky-89 @acourtofpenandpaper @yoonshope @spacebarbarianweird @brabblesblog @leomonae @wilteddreamsofbaldursgate @mothmans-rotund-asscheeks @micebear @littlejuicebox @cool-ontherun-world @justagirlwithfeelz @jellymellydraws

[niki-phoria]

Hello! It's one of my first times asking for something, so forgive me if it seems strange or if I spell something wrong! Feel free to ignore this too!

I was looking at your Jjk list and realized that our beautiful boy Yuuji doesn't have a story there yet, so I had an idea!

something like Itadori and Reader (gn or male) were in a fight together, and Sukuna ends up appering to deal with the whole situation, and as a result, he ends up hurting the reader on purpose to bother Yuuji, so he is left feeling very bad and guilty , so ends up “ignoring” reader, because he keep blaming himself

I only thought until this part (srry), I would like an ending with something cute and fluff ig? 👉👈 (i like angst with a happy ending)

WEREN'T WE THE STARS IN HEAVEN?

pairing: itadori yuuji x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: angst word count: 758

warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, mentions of blood, poorly written fight scene

notes: thank you so much !! i hope you like it :)) split this into two parts to make it easier to write lol, possibly ooc sukuna but i did my best, title from adrianne lenker - anything

part 02 here !!

shibuya is empty. desolate, even. eerily so. even after spending only a few months in tokyo, ITADORI YUUJI had grown accustomed to the noise. the bustling crowds and noisy tourists had become commonplace - almost a comfort at the end of a long night. if nothing else, at least the people were safe. 

until they weren’t. 

your lungs burn as you race through the remains of shibuya station. the walls are splattered with a mixture of blood and curse remains. there are no longer complaints from people about being trapped inside of the station. there are no longer stray groans from mahito’s transformed humans. there are no longer screams of terror. 

you feel sick.

you force yourself to run faster when you see a figure standing in the distance, near what remains of the bathrooms. water seeps across the tiles from nearby, probably damaged in the midst of a fight. “yuuji!”

he doesn’t have a visible reaction. your footsteps slow to a stop as you take in the sight of him. his clothes are ripped and tattered but there are no visible injuries on his body. beneath the flickering lights above, you can just barely make out the blood stains littering his clothing.

“yuuji?” 

he turns to face you, smirking over his shoulder. you take a step backwards, shoes slipping on a puddle of water on the floor. there’s a dark glint in his eyes - one that you’ve never seen before. “not anymore.”

“sukuna,” your breath hitches. 

he frowns, mockingly pouting as he begins walking towards you. “that’s not how you should address your lord.”

anger flares in your chest. your hands curl into fists, nails digging into your palms. you grit your teeth, aiming towards sukuna’s jaw as you swing. 

he evades it easily, languidly pushing his hands into his pockets. “i’m hurt, y/n,” he mocks. “i can’t believe you would hit your own boyfriend.”

“shut up!” another swing. another miss.

sukuna laughs. he watches you with amusement; like you’re an ant beneath his foot he’s pushing around just for the sake of his own entertainment. 

he’s fast. almost faster than your own reflexes. your punches only ever meet air as he dances around you. “does it bother you?” sukuna asks. his breath ghosts against your ear as he leans in. “knowing that yuuji’s power comes from a curse. does it scare you?”

you swallow your insults, instead focusing your attention on aiming your punches at the right time. he frowns. “ignoring me now? that won’t do.”

sukuna raises his leg, swiftly landing a hit against your side. you’re barely given time to react before your body slams into the wall. 

the pain comes hard and fast. it’s agonizing. it feels like you’re on fire. every part of your body begs you to give up; to lay down and crumble into a ball on the ground. but you can’t. you won’t. 

blood pools in your mouth, dripping down the corners of your lips. debris surrounds you. you can feel pieces of rock and concrete digging into your hands as you push yourself up onto your hands and knees.

your attempts are quickly ripped away when sukuna kicks your side once again. you land on your back this time, staring up at the ceiling through blurry vision. your head aches. 

“pathetic human.” sukuna smirks over you. the heel of his boot digs into your chest, pushing your body down further into the rubble. your eyes flutter shut. if you’re going to die, you’re not going to give sukuna ryomen the satisfaction of being the last thing you see. 

the force of sukuna’s weight forces a weak cough out of your lungs. he raises his foot once again before he pauses, humming to himself. “i wonder what the brat would think of this.”

time seems to still as your consciousness begins to slip. you can feel yourself growing weaker. your breaths are shallower. it’s harder to get air into your lungs. your racing heartbeat has also slowed. it no longer pounds loudly in your ears. instead, a dull ringing has replaced the noise.

nothing feels real. yuuji is yelling your name. he’s on his knees; his face hovers over you. 

yuuji looks different. the black marks across his skin have disappeared, leaving only pale skin behind. hands that have the power to snap bones and destroy buildings are gentle as they cup your cheeks. he wipes away blood and dust and tears.

“yuuji,” you whisper. at least, you try to. and then-

the world goes black. 

shibuya is empty.

taglist (open! send an ask/dm to be added): @sunoooism @vamxpi @sad-darksoul @kamote-kuneho

if you liked this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or rebloging !! and if you want to support me, check out my jjk masterlist <33

[thatanimewriter]

DEBIT OR CREDIT-

➳ request: headcanons about arranged business marriage with the host club? Like are they trying to keep it under wraps for the sake of the host club or are they not trying to hide it at all?

➳ character/s: suoh tamaki, ootori kyoya, fujioka haruhi, hitachiin hikaru, hitachiin kaoru, haninozuka mitsukuni, morinozuka takashi

➳ warnings: swearing, marriage, reader is rich, established relationship (haruhi, honey, mori)

➳ notes: when is it my turn to marry mori-

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 / 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭  / 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 / 𝐰𝐢𝐩 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

── 𝐒𝐔𝐎𝐇 𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈.

HAHAHAHA

bitch can't keep a secret for more than 5 minutes

haruhi not being a girl is the only exception

he doesn't know a thing about you, but you're attractive and he's sure he can learn to love you

also he doesn't wanna disappoint his or your family by saying no

and he's very confident in his rizz

certain you will fall in love with him

but because he can't hide this from people, he did lose some customers

because some of the girls find it a bit too weird flirting with a taken man

rightfully so

and he pouted about it for a while, but also knows that as flirty as he does get with his guests

you are first priority

you're the one he's marrying, and he will be faithful to you

will actually reel his hosting back a little bit to give you more comfort

the club is partly responsible for that after expressing concerns

── 𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐘𝐀.

he probably never brought it up cause no one asked

even then, he's probably gonna lie and say you're not engaged

he won't do anything to prove otherwise though

it'll take a long time before he starts showing that he likes you in a remotely romantic way

never mind platonic

this is a business thing and a business thing only

is what he'd like to say

but after the club find out, they urge him to be more involved in this future marriage

will start hanging out with you more often and being a little more talkative at family dinners

he won't be affectionate with you past a simple kiss on the back of your hand

when he starts getting more involved in his father's company

taking over the company

he will open up a lot more to you because you were there and supported the journey even though you didn't really know him

it's a long journey, but it's worth it eventually

extreme patience with this man

── 𝐅𝐔𝐉𝐈𝐎𝐊𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐔𝐇𝐈.

100% a charity case

but you were dating before your parents said you should marry a commoner

to make it seem like your family aren't anti-commoner

it was kinda stupid, but hey, it meant you'd be allowed to marry haruhi so you weren't complaining too much

nothing in your relationship changed, because the people don't need to know of the business arrangement

haruhi is very much like

"damn rich people-"

but people never knew you were dating it the first place

only the host club knew and you had to duct tape tamaki's mouth shut

but since neither of you were out as a couple, you saw no need to tell people

and it was much easier to keep it under wraps

the host club did throw an engagement party for you guys though

there was no escaping that one

but it wasn't on campus grounds where someone could see

overall, pretty happy you didn't have to fight to marry the person you love

── 𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐑𝐔.

hides it because of the whole brotherly love thing

also because it'd be a funny prank to suddenly be married

what a whacky turn of events

even then, people would probably think he was joking if he said he was engaged

kyoya would be the one to tell the people (tamaki) that it isn't a joke

hikaru isn't really a fan of this arranged business marriage thing, but he's also not too fussed

just another person to prank-

he started to appreciate you more when you first told him apart from kaoru though

and then you did it again

and again

and every time since then

maybe getting married to you wasn't such a bad idea...

after the base getting to know each other, it's a much easier time bonding

because he knows you're not an asshole for sure

and you're not putting up with his shit, so he might as well get on your good side, i guess-

── 𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐈𝐍 𝐊𝐀𝐎𝐑𝐔.

less likely to hide it than hikaru

but he's not gonna be overly vocal about it

because of the brotherly love gimmick-

he won't announce that you're ENGAGED

that's a big jump for everyone, especially tamaki

tamaki would lose his mind if he ever found out one of the shady twins was engaged

but kaoru will show you hints of affection

initially as teasing, but after getting to know you a bit more outside of business affairs, it becomes more genuine

still not massively open about it though

a lil affectionate noogie or arm around your shoulders

he won't pretend like he doesn't know you or that you guys aren't together to some extent

but he's not gonna go parading that around

would be kind enough to tell you about the brotherly love gimmick though

so you don't call off this engagement because you think he's genuinely romantically and sexually involved with his twin

when you first told him apart from hikaru, he was in love-

── 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐀 𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐈.

not capable of hiding it

he can't hide his love for you because he was gonna marry you anyway??

very cheery when you walk into the room

"LOOK IT'S MY FIANCEE!"

always feeding you cake, even if you can feed yourself

always cuddling you, will cling even if you're walking

his family are probably much more chill than the others

so he got to pick who he married, so long as it would benefit the haninozuka's

puts some serious boundaries in place if he continues to host though

platonic sessions only now

just a nice snack and a chat

will get more serious if any girl tries to push that boundary, especially if you're nearby

is constantly asking you to show off your ring to people

holds that hand all the time as well, because he can feel the ring

and be content knowing that he gets to marry you

── 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐀 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈.

doesn't hide it and would probably mention it when it first happened

doesn't wanna be heckled by anyone, but wants people to respect your relationship

an absolute gentleman

also doesn't have a super strict family in terms of dating

just as long as they make him happy and he makes them happy, and there won't be a scandal

often kisses your ring when you're just sitting together

tamaki screamed and probably broke the windows because how could he not know???

mori is probably a little bit more talkative in public when you're around

probably won't even host anymore, he'd quit once you got engaged, even if you said he could keep doing it

now he's just a honey bodyguard

he'll still talk to the girls if they ask him questions, but he wants them to know that he's off limits

does so many little favors for you, you're so spoilt (he doesn't go overboard)

unless someone outright asks him though, he won't disclose that you're to be wed

being in a relationship is serious enough in his eyes, and this was technically supposed to be business stuff anyway

maybe he'll show off a little at host club events-

[erodasfishtacos]

A Fix For Loneliness Sneak Peek (up on patreon)

prompt: YN is learning she has no self-preservation. It’s why she keeps running into her stranger. A man who won’t tell her anything, gives her instructions, and occasionally isn’t downright awful.

word count: 9.5k+

warnings: h is obviously not a good person, violence, blood, medical stuff, mean H, dark H

authors note: the rest of the one shot is up on patreon. i will be updating this shortly over there too! I update every one to three days.

you can subscribe for $3USD here

I have upwards of 300 pieces of exclusive writing available 💓

———

YN was too kind.

She knew that.

It’s why she became a nurse, to help others in their time of need, and that’s exactly what she did in the emergency department of her local hospital.

When she was walking down a back alley one night (she knew it wasn’t safe but it was such a quicker shortcut after a thirteen hour shift she couldn’t ignore it even if it was one in the morning).

YN’s half-asleep on her feet when she runs into quite the scene, a man who has to be around her age was dressed in dark jeans and a black tee shirt.

There was blood dripping from his jaw and his bottom lip was swollen up, already bruising under the drying blood.

He had just tossed something into the dumpster before slamming the lid shut with a deafening echo and despite the warning signals, YN can’t ignore him.

“Oh my goodness. You’re bleeding, sir,” YN jumps into nurse mode, hurrying up to him and without permission, tilting his head gently to the side.

The man narrows his eyes at her, clearly taken aback, and takes three big steps away from her reach towards the opposite building.

He makes a show of spitting out a mouthful of blood onto the pavement before wiping his mouth crudely with the back of his hand.

His voice was deep and scratchy, it matched his appearance, his accent thick and rough, “M’fucking fine. Back off and mind your own god damn business.”

YN is used to fiesty patients, it doesn’t phase her much as she examines him from afar now, “I’m a nurse.”

The man sneers at her, “Surprisingly, I’m not fucking blind. I don’t want your help. Run the fuck along now, little miss hero.”

YN glances down, still in her scrubs, of course he would see she’s a nurse, and distraught at this man refusing help.

She’s tired, she’s overworked, and the fact that she knows she’ll perseverate on this if he doesn’t let her help makes her choke out a frustrated sniffle.

The brunette man, with a scowl of impatience scoffs of disbelief, “Are you really about to fuckin’ cry?”

“I jus-just want to help. I lost tw-two patients today and couldn’t-couldn’t save them,” YN begins to tear up now, wiping her eyes, it was always a hard day when she lost patients.

Two today.

An older woman with a heart attack.

A teen in a car accident.

“Fucks sake,” The bloody man groans under his breath, his eyes darting up and down the alleyway, “You’re going to cause a scene over this, aren’t you? I don’t have bloody time for this.”

He stomps towards her which makes her freeze but he stands in front of her with a agitated flick of his hand, “If you’re going to do your nurse shit, do it! I don’t have god damn time for your cry baby act. Of course, I get my plans ruined.”

YN obviously doesn’t know what he’s talking about but he seems like he has places to be and she’s holding him up.

Where on earth could he go with his face looking like that anyways?

“I-I don’t have anything with me,” YN stutters after a moment, this man was intimidating as he had major height advantage, he appeared lean but his muscle definition proved he was strong.

“Okay, then see ya’,” He grunts lowly, moving to turn on his heel but YN grabs his wrist without thinking to stop him.

“My-uh, my apartment,” YN’s throat is dry, what the fuck is she doing, “I have the stuff at my apartment up the street.”

“Did your parents never teach you stranger danger? Inviting a man you’ve never met, bleeding, up to your apartment?” He asks with an eyebrow raise, wiping his continuous bleeding wound with his shirt, flashing a sliver of his carved abdominal muscles.

“You need help,” YN replies unsurely, her behaviors are so uncharacteristic but she felt drawn to help this stranger.

A small group of people pass the corridor of the alleyway, with laughs and drunk words, and the man she’s standing with perks up at high alert.

“Fuck,” He hisses angrily, that seemed to be his favorite word, yanking his hand out of her grip and muttering so softly YN doesn’t know whether she heard him right, “gonna get me caught.”

“Stand over there and turn around,” The man demands sharply, YN wasn’t used to being talked to that way but she finds herself walking towards the edge of the alley and turning away.

YN hears rustling, the dumpster being open and closed again, and a few unidentifiable noises before she hears his footsteps approaching.

His hand on her shoulder is tight as he spins her around, “If I let you fix me up, will you leave me the fuck alone and more importantly, never mention this to anyone?”

YN’s brow furrows, “Why can’t I tell-“ The man hisses in agitation, fingers digging into her skin more has harshly, “Answer me.”

It’s the first time that chills are sent down her spine at his gritted words, everything in her is screaming to run, her fight or flight triggered.

“I-I won’t tell,” YN agrees breathlessly, skin tingling when he lets go and pushes her forward, not aggressively but enough that she stumbles.

“Then move already,” He orders and when she tries to turn around to look at him, his hand comes to her neck, keeping her facing forward.

Whatever he was doing in that alley, he really didn’t want her to see, and he didn’t seem like he was open to answering questions.

YN keeps trying to justify why she’s letting a bleeding, angry man into her home as she shakily unlocks the door.

[volturissideslut]

Hi darling angel!

So I'm in the mood for some angst!

Could you write about poly! Volturi kings x reader who after an argument with them (why idk) is very quiet, because they told reader that their voice is annoying and complaining how annoying their voice is.

What would they do?

I was thinking a lil sexy time? (about how much they love their voice lol)

𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 (𝕻𝖔𝖑𝖞)

I love this idea so much, you have no idea. It's not really an argument, just a snide comment confirming a previous insecurity.

All throughout your childhood, you had been told to "be quiet" or "Shut up. Your voice is annoying" and it had taken a lot of time and a lot of self growth to get to the point you were talkative again

All to be shreded to pieces by a singular comment

It was Caius who said it, snappy after a particularly difficult day

All of them were exhausted, which is difficult for a vampire to get to, and you wouldn't stop going on and on about your day. The plot twist in the book you were reading, the new café you went tried out, the cat you saw on the street and-

"For heavens sake, do you ever stop talking?"

Oh

Instant shut down, all those years of work in being comfortable with your own voice beginning to crack,only to be shattered further

"Your voice is particularly grating today and it would serve you well to stop"

Marcus spared you a glance, but nodded in agreement while Aro just sighed and sat still with his head in his hand

They wanted you to be quiet, and so you were. With a simple nod, you turned around to walk out and they seemed appreciative at the time

Hours passed and they had begun to miss you. Well, Marcus had. Aro also wanted that familiar comfort that you bring. Caius still needed to cool off, still slumped in his chair, but knew that he needed you soon too.

And so, one by one, in the space of around an hour, they came looking for you

"Tesoro, there you are. What are you doing?" Marcus asked with a small smile, wanting to join you

And you had wanted to respond,you really did. But your voice felt stuck in your throat.

Unable to speak, you looked at him and gave a weak smile, turning back to what you were doing

And his face falls

"Tesoro?"

No response

"would you like space?"

A nod. And he leaves.

Aro would be next to see you, wanting that love and warmth you bring. Still unaware of your state, he'd ask you to sing for him.

Just a sweet little lullaby like you did so often. So warm, so loving, so comforting

And yet you didn't even open your mouth

Tears came to your eyes, insecurity and anxiety rising, and yet still unable to communicate anything vocally.

"Amore mio, are you alright?" he would ask, stroking your hair so nicely. So lovingly, almost as if he hadn't completely disregarded you, agreeing with your mates and confirming your biggest insecurity

And yet you couldn't even tell him, voice still stuck

You were cursed by your own brain

All you could do is look at him, teary eyed. Unconsciously, you had touched your throat, mout opening and closing yet no words coming out

"Is it your throat? Does it hurt?"

A nod and a shake

His voice is so achingly soft, oozing with care and worry. A very stark contrast indeed.

He'd call the nearest guard to fetch the other kings for him, and they come rushing

I mean, of course they would. You're everything to them

Caius would kiss the back oglf your hand softly, being patient for what seems like the first time in his lifs. Marcus would have his face buried in your neck, breathing you in and keeping you as close as possible. Aro says where he was before, hand on your cheek as you struggle to for words.

Life's a funny thing, isn't it? While it seems you were unable to get a singular word out in front of them earlier, now it seems that you just can't stop. It all comes out in a jumbles mess of nonsense for them to piece together yet they still stay, listening to you intently.

"oh, my love" Aro would say, never looking away as they listened to you

And when i say they listened, I mean they really really listened

Profuse apologies from Caius because he had never meant to hurt you, he was just exhausted and lashing out and unfortunately you were the one in his path

Marcus is silent, just holding your hand and holding you close. It's later when your alone together that he apologises. He wanted it to feel more meaningful, more personal and felt this was the way to do it

They make a conscious effort to not dismiss you now, even though they didn't really do it much before either

And when you sing for Aro as he so often ask you to, you get twice as much praise as usual

[lushlovers]

The P-word, J Burrow

summary; he doesn't know what to say or how to react to things like this.

warnings; fluff fr, mentions of pregnancy and pregnancy tests, pet names (baby, honey, ) joe actually kinda sucks with words but same lmaoooo, swearing, kissing

word count; 903

note; yes angst but also fluff. i'm working on more frat!lsu!joey, but this was something random I wanted to post since it's been a little while. i hate the ending no one talk about it. winter writer's block ain't no joke fr.

this is kind of my thank you for two hundred followers even though we are just on the cusp of three, but thank you so much, I appreciate the support of my works more than you will ever know. i love every one of my followers so so sooo much yall are the best:)

Pregnant, pregnant, pregnant. Maybe the more you think of those eight letters will fade away and completely off the little plastic at-home test you decided to finally take. God the word just keeps ringing in your head like the most annoying of alarms. How the hell are you supposed to tell him? His career's just started he'll never be along for the roller coaster ride, especially not when it consists of a baby running around as well.

However, luck chooses to be your opponent this evening since Joe's already home and sitting on the couch in the living room, completely oblivious to the fact that your world has just turned completely upside down. It took a while for you to work up the nerve to call him up, but when you did everything suddenly felt so heavy.

The weight refused to leave your shoulders as he sat on the truck at the foot of your bed. Rehearing in the mirror, preparing for every scenario, but especially for the one that you hope and pray will never occur. Everything that you've been through together, nothing will go wrong, he's too good of a person.

After several minutes, worry becomes evident in your voice as he asks you through the door if everything's alright, "'M fine, just nervous, I guess." That seemed to do the opposite of what you intended, that is, maybe your lying and saying you're fine would shut him up for a bit, but your being nervous led to many other questions from the other side of the door.

Adding on to that p-word, every what if clouds your mind as well. What if telling him this is your biggest regret? What if he just packs his shit and leaves? What if-, "Baby, are you sure?" Fucks sake he's still going with his questions, in any less stressful situation this would've been appreciated, but not when you can barely seem to focus on the most topic at hand.

Now or never, seemed to be the only thing that got you to push open the door and finally face the man you love so dearly. He almost instantly jumps up, concern written all over his face even more so when he glances in the direction of your hands. "Do you wanna tell me what's going on?" No, not entirely, you think but you won't let that escape your mouth, matter of fact, nothing leaves your mouth for many seconds. Maybe never was a good idea.

It took a bit for you to unscramble your words and finally speak up, "I'm gonna tell you something, but you have to try not to freak out." Your mouth felt dry the way your anxiety made your throat close up made it feel like your lungs had shrunk five times the size they were before, "Okay, care to share? I'm like shitting my pants right now," Joe spoke, chuckling but not because it was funny, he laughs because he's terrified of what words may escape your lips.

You do everything you can to avoid his eyes because the all too familiar feeling of tears surfaces on your waterline and his brows furrow at that. "Honey, you know you can tell me anything, yeah?" His question is lost to you as he cups your face thumbing away the tears before they got a chance to slip down your cheeks. The feeling of his eyes searching yours for any answer to all the questions that he's thinking about is a scary feeling.

"I'm pregnant," it comes out as a whisper, but the way the color completely drains from his face, you know he understood every syllable of those two words. For a split second, he stares at you with a look you don't think you've ever received from him before, "That's... wow." A strangled breath of half relief and half worry escapes you at his response.

Your soul leaves your body as he racks his brain for something to say to express just how he's feeling, but he's almost certain there is no possible way to verbally explain it. Now tears are welling up in his pretty blue eyes, "That's insane, I dunno what to say, are you sure?" His voice is trembling just as much as his hands as you place the test into his palm, he gets choked up as he reads over the same word that had your stomach in knots before with nothing but admiration and surprise.

"Holy fucking shit," he gapes, pulling you into him so tight it nearly knocks the wind right out of you. You laugh now as it settles into your mind that Joe would never do anything to hurt you or your baby in any way possible and to think he would ever leave in a situation like this one was silly, but thinking irrationally tends to happen quite a lot.

"I'm gonna be a dad, I need to call-" you cut him off before he's able to go on his rant, "How about we pause, and we can tell whoever we want in the most extravagant, Joseph Burrow way possible?" He snorts at that, pulling his face away from his place against your shoulder, muffling some form of agreement against your lips, then your jaw, neck, and clavicle, and lowering himself to his knees.

For a moment he looks up at you, "Sorry if I scared you with my response, I don't usually know what to say in times like this and my brain went into shock mode."

[raina-at]

Pride

Omg, you guys, it's the last one! Where did the month go!

A huge, huge thank you to @calaisreno for keeping is going the entire month, and a huge thank you to all of you for reading and writing and gushing and commenting and crying and making this more fun than it had any right to be. I'll miss this!

I did a Pride ficlet last year as a bonus ficlet because I missed two days. I had a lot of ideas for this year's, and maybe I'll post some of them as bonus ficlets through June, but for now, I say goodbye to May with John and Rosie.

--------

"Dad."

"Hmm?"

"Dad!"

John puts down the newspaper. Apparently this is a serious discussion. "Yes, love?"

Rosie throws herself into Sherlock's chair and contorts herself into a pretzel-like shape that can't be comfortable. "I'm...um..." It's apparent she doesn't quite know how to phrase her issue, because she's unnaturally hesitant. Sherlock's influence has made her shockingly blunt, while John's influence has made her shockingly foul-mouthed. Arguing with her is a joy. But now, very untypically, she looks confused and a bit lost.

"Ro, whatever it is, you can tell me," John says, leaning forward, a bit worried now.

"It's..." She sighs, looks down at her hands. "It's a bit personal?"

"Oh my god you're pregnant!" John blurts out, his momentary fear overriding his usually good brain-mouth-filter.

"Dad, what the actual fuck! I'm not fucking pregnant!" Rosie rolls her eyes so hard John wonders if she sprained something. "You know I'm on birth control. You went with me to get my first prescription, for fuck's sake."

"Accidents happen, my dear," John says, gesturing at his lovely daughter, who, light of his life, and joy of his world as she may be, was also very much an unplanned pregnancy.

"Fair enough," Rosie admits, deflating a bit. "Still."

"It wasn't a completely unreasonable assumption. You have a boyfriend, you're twenty, I'm assuming you're having sex."

"Please, dad!" Rosie exclaims, the tips of her ears turning red. "I really don't want to talk about my sex life."

"You think I do?"

Rosie makes a very Sherlock-like  'never mind all that nonsense now' gesture. "Anyway," she says, giving John a glare that tells him to shut up until she's finished. "It's actually kind of about Mark."

John nods, to let her know he's listening, but carefully and deliberately keeps his mouth shut, even as he's thinking, If he hurt you, I'll kill him so fucking dead so quickly he'll never know what hit him.

"It's... you know... he's... well, he's a boy," Rosie finally gets out.

John blinks a few times. Waits a bit. When it's clear Rosie won't be any more forthcoming about the issue, he dares to ask, "And?"

She looks down at her hands, studying them with unwarranted fascination. "I'm..." She sighs. "When did you know you were bisexual?"

John exhales audibly. Now he knows what this is about. In a family of mostly queer people, Rosie seems to have assumed she'd be some kind of queer as well. And if anyone knows how complicated identity can be, especially if it's weighed down by expectation, it's John. "Um. Quite honestly, I'm not sure I am."

Rosie looks up, surprised. "I mean. Mum. And Paps. Um. You know..." she makes a 'please fill in the gaps yourself' gesture.

"Look," John says, leaning forward and taking his daughter's hands. "I personally think labels are vastly overrated. If a word, or a label, or a phrase, helps you to better understand yourself, that's great. Use that label as long as it serves you, and if it doesn't anymore, use another one. As for me, I was raised in an environment where being different was bad. What kind of different you were exactly was completely beside the point. And I saw first-hand how the world treated your aunt, so I thought, best not think about it. I wasn't that attracted to men, it wasn't difficult to ignore. Until I met Paps, and you know how difficult he is to ignore."

Rosie grins. "Oh, yeah. So Paps made you bi?"

"No, you know it doesn't work like that. He made me... " John answers, smiling fondly at the memory. "Well, quite simply, he made me fall in love. He was—still is, of course—the most intriguing, gorgeous, infuriating, exasperating, fascinating person I've ever met, and I fell in love with him so hard, and so fast. But I wasn't ready, and he wasn't ready, and it took us years to get our acts together. And part of that was that we both couldn't accept a fundamental truth: The heart wants what the heart wants. Fighting against it only brings misery and destruction." He squeezes Rosie's hands. "So. Do you love Mark?"

She nods, her eyes shining with the truth of it.

"Is he good to you? Good for you?"

She nods again.

"Then who the fuck cares about anything else?"

Rosie's silent for a bit, apparently mulling over his words, still holding on to his hands. "So," she finally says, looking up from her joint hands with a smile. "You'll love me even if I'm straight?"

"Well, love, I suppose I can overlook this glaring character flaw. Also, you might meet a stunning lesbian when you're forty and she'll rock your entire world and turn everything you thought you knew about yourself upside down. And I want you to remember," he says, leaning in a bit more, looking deeply into her eyes, "I'm fine with everything, as long as you give me some grandkids first."

Rosie laughs and pushes him away. "Fuck off."

John gets up and makes his way to the kitchen. "So, sexual identity crisis over? You want to have some tea now?"

"Of course I want tea. But what you're saying, if I understand you correctly, is not to assume I'm straight just because I fell in love with a man?"

"I'm saying," John says, flicking the kettle on, "is that it doesn't matter, love. Gay, straight, pan, bi, ace, all these labels are useful if they help you understand yourself. But if you feel boxed in by a label, don't use it. Use another one. Use none at all. Let nothing ever keep you from knowing and understanding your own heart. That's the only thing that matters. I might be bi, who knows. The important thing is that I love Sherlock with all my heart, and that I made a commitment to him. Everything else is just noise."

Rosie is quiet for a bit, looking thoughtfully at the fire crackling cherrily in the hearth of 221B. "You're getting soft in your old age, Dad," she finally says, with a grateful smile.

John hands her a mug, drops a kiss on her head. "Love you too, dear," he says, smiling into her hair.

----

Don't forget that I'm collecting these ficlets here on AO3, and don't forget to check out the wonderful collection of May prompt ficlets as well. I know I'm already looking forward to reading all of them again.

Tags under the cut as usual.

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @jrow @peanitbear @jolieblack @meetinginsamarra @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @friday411 @givemesherbet-blog-blog @weeesi @thalialunacy @thegildedbee @dapetty @salmonsown

[4ttack-ur-heart]

Cherry Chapstick

Pairing: Armin x reader

Warnings: none.

Summary: Armin refuses to let you use his chapstick. No worries, you have other ideas on how to keep your lips from getting chapped.

(also just pretend chapstick is canon in the aot universe for the sake of the fic 😭)

Another long and grueling day of training was finishing up. The sun was setting through the huge forest of trees.

“Alright, trainings over! Rest up and be ready to head back in 15 minutes.” The squad leader said with his barking voice.

Your squad leader liked doing various training sessions with just your squad, something about strengthening the bond and making it easier to tag team during expeditions.

Landing on one of the branches to catch your breath, you sat against the bark let your body slouch for the first time that day.

“Tired?”

Looking up at the voice, Armin was standing in front of you. His new shorter blond locks shifting gently in the breeze as his pretty blue eyes locked on your figure. He was one of your closest friends. The friendship was honestly ideal with him giving you the guidance that you needed while you encouraged him when he was feeling insecure.

You nodded at him through half-lidded eyes and a lazy smile. “I’m so glad we have a day off tomorrow, I’ll probably spend it sleeping.”

Armin returned a smile at your words. “You’re almost there, (y/n). I’m sure your bed misses you too.” While you laughed at him, Armin squatted down next to you.

“What do you got planned tomorrow?” You asked and leaned your head against the tree. He pulled his green cloak tighter around his shoulders when the breeze kicked in.

“Probably go out into the valley and find a nice place to read.”

“By yourself? What about Eren and Mikasa?” You raised an eyebrow. The trio was pretty much inseparable.

Armin waved off your question with his hand. “They wanted to go into the city and I’m tired of third-wheeling. It wasn’t much fun as kids and still isn’t now.”

Nodding your head, you gazed once more at the sun just about to set. The orange hues casting over the green plains.

Armin finally sat down on the branch, his leg brushing up against yours. “God, I can’t stand this weather.” He muttered and started to fish for something out of his pocket.

With curious eyes, you saw him pull out a small tube. Chapstick? He uncapped it and gently spread it on his lips.

Armin chuckled when he caught you staring at him. “What? My lips are chapped.”

“I can see that.” You could also see his plump pink lips all shiny from the substance. “What flavor is it?”

“Cherry.” He pocketed the chapstick.

You inched over to him. Cherry was your favorite flavor, a timeless classic that forever held your heart. You were about to ask him for some when he seemed to have read your thoughts and immediately shut you down.

“No, you can’t have any.”

Instantly shocked at his words, your mouth was agape and you crossed your arms with a pout. “What, why?”

Honestly, you couldn’t care less… well maybe you cared a little bit. But being petty and dramatic was more fun however, especially in front of Armin.

“(Y/n), don’t take this the wrong way, but anything you touch immediately disappears.”

Ok, now you cared a lot a bit. “No it doesn’t!”

“Oh, you defended yourself real quick there, huh? Alright, tell me where Sasha’s hairbrush is.” Armin had a smile on his face as he rested his arm on his propped up knee. Sasha lent you her brush one day and it was never seen again. She made you buy her a new one the next day.

Your silence was the answer he needed.

“Maybe you know where Mikasa’s training gloves are?”

Again, more silence. She’d let you borrow them for training and you stupidly set them down when it was windy.

“Oh, wait! My blue sweater? Haven’t seen that in a while and you were the only person I lent it to.”

It was a rather chilly morning one day, so Armin lent you his infamous blue sweater.

Manipulative little bastard.

A slight blush dusted your cheeks. You glared at the blonde and scoffed. “I feel like this isn’t just about chapstick.”

Arming gave out a chuckle. “It is, (y/n). Don’t worry.” With that, Armin rose to his feet and patted your head as he walked along the branch.

Your eyes fluttered in satisfaction when his fingertips rubbed your scalp.

“I can’t even have a little?”

“No.”

Ugh, be like that then.

———

Your squad eventually had to make the journey back home. Riding next to Armin, your horses ran in sync as you both gave each other little glances every few minutes.

“Can I have some of that chapstick now?” Your voice rang over thundering steps of the horses.

“No.” Armin replied.

“But my lips are chapped!”

“Figure it out.” He shouted back.

Oh I will.

———

“Finally home.” You moaned and jumped off your horse and led her to the stables. Your body ached and sleep was all you were craving. It was dark by the time you guys got back and your squad leader gave his appreciation by quickly dismissing everyone.

Maybe I’ll skip dinner. I’m so tired.

Thoughts flowing through your head as you undressed your horse of her gear. Hanging the saddle on a peg, you brushed her mane and fed her some carrots.

“Eat up, Star. My pretty girl.” You cooed, gently running your hand over her nose. Another set of steps disrupted your intimate moment with Star.

Turning around, your eyes softened at Armin, who led his horse over by the reins.

“Hey, stranger.” He teased and began working on his horse. You smiled back at him and it was silent for a few moments, just the sound of the equipment clinking with movement.

You turned to look at him only to give a dry chuckle when you saw him pulling out his stupid cherry chapstick again. The stupid smile never left his face as he applied it.

“Ar-”

“No chapstick, (y/n).”

Damn.

“That wasn’t what I was going to say!”

Armin turned to meet your gaze with raised eyebrows. “What was it then?”

Shit. Think (y/n).

Armin chuckled as the silence answered his question. His hands gently brushed through his horse’s mane. “You’re a bad liar.”

A scoff left your lips. “I don’t like this new attitude of yours.”

Over time, Armin slowly broke out of his shell, no longer the dorky and nervous kid he once was- even though you loved that about him. Now, he was comfortable enough to speak his mind without a second thought, even to you.

“Get used to it, (y/n). Looks like you’ll have to find another way to keep your lips moisturized.”

You didn’t like the snarky look he had on his face. A sudden idea popped into your head. As Armin finished settling his horse for the night, you caught his wrist as he walked by.

A confused look adorning his features when he turned to look at you.

Without thinking twice, you pulled him towards you and stood on your toes. Lifting your head, your lips quickly planted themselves onto his.

You could tell he was caught of guard. His blue eyes widened at the sudden action and a startled whimper escaped him. It was kinda hot honestly. Pulling away, you rubbed your lips together and popped them. “Mmm, gotta love cherry.”

His lips were partly opened and a red rouge covered his face. He still couldn’t believe it.

“U-uh, I-”

“Night, Armin. See ya tomorrow.” You smiled innocently at him before brushing past him to leave.

His hand latched onto your elbow and pulled you back. Raising an eyebrow at him, Armin gripped both your shoulders before pulling you back in, lips meeting yours once more. His back was crouched down a little to meet your height. Now it was your turn to be surprised.

Oh. Oooh

He moaned slightly against your lips when you started kissing back.

The kiss lasted a few seconds before Armin slowly pulled away from you. You both were slightly panting from the adrenaline and the eye contact between you both never broke.

“There.” His hands still gripped your shoulders. “That should last you a bit.” With that, his hand moved just below your ear, his thumb brushing over your jawline.

Armin finally snapped himself of whatever trance you had on him and gave a small smile. “Meet me here tomorrow at noon, that’ll give you plenty of time to sleep in and you can join me in the valley.”

“O-okay.”

Without another word, Armin left the stables. Your mind ran crazy with thoughts. Yes, you kissed him first, but you didn’t expect him to actually want to kiss you again.

How in the world did he play the game better than you? It was your idea-

—————

The sun shines brightly through the curtains of your room. You let out a groan as the stiffness in your muscles were more prominent from yesterdays training.

Looking at the clock on the wall- 8:25 am.

You can still catch breakfast before it ends and relax a bit before meeting up with Armin.

Oh yeah…

What a peculiar night. You honestly thought Armin would either be confused or disgusted when you kissed him. Not flustered. Him kissing you on his own also surprised you. The little manipulators all grown up now.

You got up and threw on some random clothes, heading to the dining hall.

You quietly ate your food, only a few soldiers remained in the dining hall since breakfast was ending soon.

Time slowly passed by, and you decided to take a nap in your bed for another hour or two before leaving. The nap only left you more tired. After changing into a more presentable outfit, a simple button up and a long skirt, you threw your favorite sweater over. The material was soft and the fading but familiar scent was comforting to you.

Your footsteps were slow as you walked to the stables. The soreness in your body along with the tiredness still swirled in your system.

“(Y/n), over here.” Armin called out to you as he led his horse outside his stall. “Perfect timing, I was just getting ready to- is that my sweater?”

Oops. Yes, yes it was.

“Maybe.”

“I thought you said you lost it!”

“I never said I lost it.” You yawned. “Just never wanted to give it back to you.”

Armin chuckled and was a bit surprised at your words, he climbed on his horse and turned down to you, hand extended. “You ready?”

Nodding, you grabbed his hand and he pulled you up. Your legs straddled the horse and your hand hesitantly grazed his waist. It wasn’t until Armin flicked the reigns and the horse quickly trotted forward that you decided to wrap your arms tightly around his waist as he navigated through the towns.

“You good there?” He joked and placed his hand on top of your clasped ones that pressed against his abdomen.

—————

“You look nice in my sweater.” Armin commented, trekking his fingers gently through your scalp.

The warm breeze swayed the grass and wildflowers surrounding you. The meadow Armin took you to was beautiful this time of year.

Your head currently rested on his thigh. Armin was sat against a willow tree, a book in his other hand. Every so often, his hand would leave your head to turn the page and gently return.

“It’s mine now.” You mumbled through closed eyes. Armin insisted you try to nap again while he read. However, no one brought up the situation from last night. At the moment it almost seemed like it never happens. No one acknowledged it.

“Of course it is.” He said with a smile before taking his hand away from your head. He shifted and buried his hand in the pocket of his trousers. His leg raised your head slightly as he moved. “Sorry, I just can’t- dammit where is it?”

You craned your neck to see his agitated face. “What happened?”

“I can’t find my chapstick.” He muttered with a frown.

A giggle erupted from your mouth, making him look at you. “And you say I lose stuff?”

“Shut up.” He muttered.

You both returned to your original positions with you head still resting on his lap. The breeze continued to blow and you glanced at Armin to see the tips of his blonde hair blow across his face. The shorter hair really suited him.

You let out a small sigh and pulled the sweater tighter around your frame. Reaching into the small pocket, you pulled something out.

Uncapping it, you gently applied it to your lips and didn’t miss the way Armin was staring at you dumbfounded. The label was clearly a different color than his. No, this one was yours. All yours.

“It’s strawberry and before you ask- no you can’t have any. I wouldn’t want you to lose this one too.” A devilish smirk crossed your face. Payback was a bitch. If he could be petty, so could you.

Armin sat back and mumbled something incoherent. His book was now discarded to the side and his arms were crossed with a pout. Memories of last night flooded his thoughts.

The way he held you. The way he looked at you. How you tasted.

You looked up at him with innocent eyes and rubbed the substance coating your lips together. He was staring at you.

You let out a small laugh as he pulled your body up and lowered himself down closer to you. You didn’t miss the way his eyes stared into yours before darting to your lips, then back to your eyes. He was so close. Then as if he decided it was right, Armin’s lips were encasing yours once more.

You gave a small sigh into the kiss and your fingers raked through his blonde hair.

Armin’s tongue gently swiped against your bottom lip and before you could open your mouth for more, he pulled away.

“You’re right.” He said and rubbed his own lips together. “Cherry does taste better.”

You were a little disappointed at the sudden break in contact. Sitting your body up, you faced him. “We can get you more when we head back into town.” You offered and avoided your gaze.

Maybe he was just getting payback for last night?

Armin rolled his eyes and pulled you back towards him. “Yeah that sounds good, but I like this option better.”

And he kissed you again. More passionately this time.

He suddenly pulled your body against his so you were fully sat in his lap, emitting a small squeal from you. Your legs curled into his side and his hands were placed at your waist, thumb brushing your hip.

“Thank you for coming with me.” He mumbled against your lips.

“Just take me out and we’ll call it even.” You replied, your arm wrapping around his neck.

“Okay.”

——

Taglist: @cullenswife

(Lmk if you wanna be added <3)

[myfaveficrecs]

Christmas Tradition

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Reader (Darling)

Word Count: 1785

Warnings: Pure fluff

AN: Written for @sailor-aviator's Christmas Writing Challenge. My prompt was ornaments, and I chose to do something I haven't done before. I wrote for Bob! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone.

“Still okay to meet at 6?”

Bob smiled while reading your text knowing your Christmas tradition would change after this year. In all honesty, he should have changed the tradition a couple of years ago but he always justified why he couldn’t do it just yet. Being on different sides of the country, deployments, being with your families in different states for the holidays, work schedules didn’t align, you both were too busy. But this year that changes.

“I can’t wait, Darling.”

“Going to pick out ornaments tonight?” Phoenix asked with a smile, catching a glimpse of her WSO’s phone while walking by.

“Yeah,” he blushed but could not seem to tamp down his grin. “I put the one for tonight in the tree already this morning after she left for work. I just have to wait a few more hours.”

“How are you feeling?”

“What’s the matter Baby on Board? Going to throw up again?” Hangman gave his traditional smirk while walking to his locker. Looking around, Bob realized the whole squad was in tow in the locker room now.

“Shut up, Bagman. He’s nervous enough without you adding to it.”

“Nervous about what?” Rooster chimed in. “You guys are just going to get your ornaments, right?”

“Wait, ornaments? I feel like I’m missing something.”

“You usually are, Hangman.” Phoenix glared at the irritating pilot. She was not going to let him ruin this day for Bob.

“Every year, Bob and Darling go to a boutique in the town they are in for Christmas to pick out one new ornament each for their tree. The ornament is something that reminds them of each other or something that they did together that year.”

“Okay…and what makes today's nauseating display of affection any different from the other years?”

“First of all, it isn’t nauseating, it’s romantic. Secondly, Bob is officially making her part of the squad!”

Loud cheers and hands roughly shaking his shoulders made Bob turn an interesting shade of red, but the laugh that came out of him was pure joy. “She has to say yes first. I gotta get out of here and meet her. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

With choruses of cheers and good luck, Bob rushed out to his truck, pulling out his phone to let her know he was on his way with a quick text. The closer he got to her, the less anxious he felt. She was the only thing other than being above the clouds that made him feel completely at peace. His Darling was his safe place, his home, his heart, and his soul. She was so deeply ingrained and embedded into his skin that he would never be rid of her if he tried. She was everything and he would make sure she knew it.

Pulling up to the little boutique decked out in all the garland, lights, and ornaments probably in the whole of San Diego he saw his little Darling already waiting for him at the front door, excitement all over her face. He may have started this tradition, but she made sure to treasure it and keep it exciting. 

“There is my handsome man. How was work?” You asked, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, leaving little kisses along his jaw, enjoying the light flush that started along his neck and was gradually making its way to his ears. The little prickles of the five o’clock shadow leave pleasant tingles on your lips.

His arms wrapped tight around you, swaying you back and forth to a tune that was only playing in his own mind. “It was good, I got to try some new equipment upgrades today. They are asking for my input on how to make it better.”

“That’s because you are amazing at what you do, and I would know how precise, focused, and accurate you are.” 

Bob laughed, covering your mouth with one large hand while you wiggle your eyebrows, trying to tamp down your own amusement for his sake. “Be a good girl.”

His deep voice with that particular phrase sent lightning zaps throughout your body and straight to your core, the memory of his head between your legs this morning making your heart pick up speed. “I can’t make any promises.” You let out a little yelp when you felt a quick swat to your ass, his strong hands turning you around by your shoulders and pushing you gently through the door with a laugh.

With a chime from the alarm and a loud jingle of the bells on the door, your presence alerted the owner of the little boutique that has become a favorite of yours to come to. “There’s my favorite couple! I was wondering when you two were going to come by and see us.”

“Good evening, ma’am.” He greeted with a nod. She reminded him of his grandmother - a little rounder with age, silver streaks in her blonde hair, rosy cheeks, and round glasses that complemented her face rather nicely.

“We’ve got some good ones this year, take your time kids!” The woman pointed towards the back of the store with the large display of several Christmas trees loaded down with ornaments to pick from. With barely contained excitement, you linked your fingers with Bob and dragged him towards the display.

“Have any idea what you are looking for this year?”

“Yes! Since we have officially moved here now that you’ve got a permanent assignment, I wanted to find one that has to do with your job. Can’t be that hard to find being in Fightertown, USA, right?” You mumbled, walking around the first tree in deep concentration. Your eyes squinting the further up you looked at the tree before moving to the middle one. “What about you, what were you thinking?”

“I’ll know it when I see it.” When you looked over at him all you could see was his undying affection shining back at you. The added twinkle of the Christmas lights surrounding you both added a soft glow, bounced off the ornaments and added streaks of color and prisms along his flight suit. The smell of cinnamon, cranberries, and jet fuel made you light headed for all the right reasons. God, you love this man.

Right above his head on the tree in front of him was the perfect ornament! “There! Grab that one.” You squealed, reaching your hand out and pointing out the pilot helmet with red and green stripes. Bob shook his head with a grin and got it down for you, placing it gently into your palm. “Now you need to find yours.”

Bob’s real ornament was already waiting on their tree at home but he would gladly buy a dozen more to make sure it was always full of memories. Walking slowly around the next tree, he crouched down to see the ones on the lowest hanging branches with more clarity and immediately his eyes were drawn to a glass ball with the colors of the northern lights all around it. He immediately held it up with a triumphant smile, “This one. When we went to Fairbanks to see my sister in September, we saw the northern lights for the first time together.”

“It’s beautiful, Bobby,” you said, gently clasping the bottom of the ball with your fingertips for closer inspection. “Let’s get home so we can put these on the tree. We can put on your favorite Christmas movie and curl up under the blanket on the couch, sound good?”

“Sounds like the perfect way to spend Christmas Eve.” He leads you up to the cash register, paying for the ornaments quickly while chatting with the shop owner before walking you to your car.

The drive home was quick, and his nerves were still nowhere to be found. This was the right thing for them, he knew it, he felt it. Why didn’t he do this sooner? Why wait so long to start their ever after? 

Turning the lights on for the tree he watched as you carefully unwrapped each ornament, yours being placed on top of the tree, as far as your arms could reach. As soon as you picked up his, he wrapped an arm around your waist from behind and pointed to the middle of the tree. “How about right there, Darling? Looks like the perfect spot.”

He watched as you reached out and put the ornament where he pointed to before your whole body froze, gently holding the glass ball in place. He felt the long intake of breath that filled your chest, pressing further into his chest before letting go of the new colorful glass ball knowing it was secure. With a silent gulp that made his adams apple bob in his throat, he wrapped his other arm around you tightly.

In the center of the tree was a gold and silver ball, designed to open in the center just like a ring box. Inside there was a plush velvet black pillow holding the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

“Darling, I want to continue this tradition and make new ones with you for the next fifty years. I want to make sure you know every single day how much I need you, how much I love you. I’ve always known you were it for me, nobody else is ever going to love me the way you do and nobody is going to be able to complete you the way that I do. I’m sorry it took me this long, and I want no more excuses. Marry Me.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. It was a fact. It was a confident declaration. 

Gently reaching out to the custom ornament, he pulled the beautiful vintage ring from its pillowed cushion. A thin gold band held an array of diamonds. A clear and beautiful round stone in the center surrounded by another circle of smaller round diamonds. The outer row is arranged like a sunburst. He saw it in an antique store two months before while you were searching for the perfect table for your entryway. He bought it the second your back was turned because he immediately thought of you. His sunshine. His Darling.

You felt the thin band wrap around your finger and settle at the base like it was always meant to be there. You couldn’t take your eyes off of it no matter how much your brain screamed at you to turn around and wrap yourself around this beautiful man that you had forever to spend with, so you did the next best thing. Grabbing his hand tightly in your own you whispered your own declaration, “It will always be yes.”

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