#Getting Ex Back After 8 Months

[trinitea-fics]

I hate when you're very sure you're over something, but then you're awake at 4am and clearly Not Over it yet :/

[apathyfairy]

.

[yeah-yeah-beebiss-1]

in case you were wondering how things went down at the pokemon world championships this weekend:

-during the top 8 of the TCG masters division, chilean player fernando cifuentes was running a gimmick deck that consisted exclusively of four iron thorns ex and a whole ton of control-focused trainer cards in a strategy that either completely shuts down opponents or shits the bed entirely

-through skillful play and some good luck, fernando made it through 2 days in a tournament with over 1100 players to get to the quarterfinals

-fernando lost 2-0 to ian robb, who was running regidrago vstar (widely considered one of the best decks in the current format)

-in an overexuberant victory celebration, ian did what can only be described as a jacking-off gesture, on a stream with tens of thousands of viewers run by a company with very firm player conduct expectations

-the judges determined that this warranted a penalty of game loss, but for some reason, rather than applying it to ian’s next game in the semifinals, they applied it to the one he had just won in the top 8

-(it should be noted that the prize money for making top 8 is $15k while top 4 is $20k, so this jerking gesture cost ian robb $5,000)

-nearly an hour after fernando came to terms with his loss and the end of an impressive run, he was told that he was to get back on stream because he’s now playing in the semifinals due to winning by default

-the player he was up against in the semifinals was playing a deck (miraidon) that happens to get shut down hard by iron thorns’s gimmick, so fernando wins the semifinals

-said player, jesse parker, had notably had an undefeated run throughout the whole tournament up to this point, and likely would have continued that streak had his intended semifinal opponent not gotten a game loss penalty for miming a lewd act on stream

-meanwhile, the other semifinal winner is japan’s seinosuke shiokawa, running a deck (roaring moon) that players had largely written off as underwhelming months ago

-the grand finals are on the following day, so saturday evening was abuzz with a lot of people baffled by the absurdity of the situation

-come sunday afternoon, the grand finals are set to begin, with fernando cifuentes running iron thorns and seinosuke shiokawa running roaring moon

-it should be noted here that the roaring moon deck doesn’t rely very much on abilities, so iron thorns’s gimmick has very little effect - this is basically an even matchup

-fernando wins the first game of the set, and seinosuke wins the second

-the third and final game of the set is a bonafide cheek-clencher, with both players reaching a state where a single KO will win the game, but fernando manages to clinch it at the last minute

-and that’s the story of how a guy pretending to jork it led to the first instance of a pokemon world champion who also lost the quarterfinals

[evilgwrl]

ExHusband!Simon x Reader

You Want a Divorce? (One)

Note: I'm having the WORST writer's block now so pls excuse my lack of proper writing... I'm currently sitting in front of a beach writing in hopes that ill gain inspo

CW: Angst, mentions of sex, jealous/possessive Simon, PLS DONT LEAVE YOUR KIDS IN THE CAR !!! Or break into someone’s house

Inspired by: Ex!Husband Simon

PART TWO

Simon stared at you. The shades of his eyes simmering into endless voids of obsidian, blonde lashes moulded against his greased lids, the residue of the perpetual torture his body had succumbed to during deployment.

“You want a divorce?” He spoke, voice deep as he flickered between your shaking heads, sweat soiling into the papers gripped firmly and your swollen face, cheeks feverish with a red hue, eyes even more so.

You held back a rough sob, throat stripped of all moisture evident in your hoarse voice as you spoke, “Yes, Simon. I think it would be best for our family… for us.”

He scoffed. “You think the best thing for our family is to separate?”

“We already pretty much are. You’re away for days, weeks, months at a time. We’re hardly a family and it’s difficult to explain to the children why I’m crying.”

“Ok then.”

That was it. You would admit, it stung. His lacklustre tone felt like a stab in the gut, the blade drenched with anthrax as it reared blistering sores internally, the effects having shown through your putrid complexion. Your skin was dull, practically lifeless, the only living form of you grew day by day through the darkening of eyebags that almost made you look apocalyptic.

It had been 12 months of separation, officially 8 being legally divorced. You kept his last name, the permanent burn of hearing Mrs Riley still searing through you with every syllable, yet you feel it would only hurt you more if they said Ms.

Simon was often away now, and the minimal family time he used to get felt pointless as the shabby apartment he moved into after the sudden interference of your mind-boggling news barely fit the two kids you shared. His body felt more relentless on him, the taunting of his mind fulgurated the inoperative reality that he would come home to you, to his family.

His voice, almost like it dropped an octave had grown richer in aggression, tormenting those he deemed suitable, both with his tongue and with his bruised knuckles, an oil painting of blue and purple hues radiating across the pale flesh as he shrugged it off to his team as “pushing himself and others to do better”.

Couldn’t you realise your mistake? Wouldn’t you prefer crying in his arms about his absence than never having it fulfilled again?

As he looked around the bleak environment, tan stained walls revolting the creaking mattress he had brought someone home to, someone who wasn’t you. It made him feel sick like a viral infection had slunk its way into his bloodstream as he laid next to a woman that failed to make his cock throb, endless images of you sprawled out under him flickering. No wonder he called out your name instead.

You felt the familiar shake of your hands every time your phone dinged; Simon’s dreary tone was evident through his dry “On the way” text. You ushered a day of your children’s life into their cartoon-themed backpacks, innocent smiles adorning their skin, doe-like eyes of brown, far too familiar to Simon’s staring up at you.

The sound of his car scraping into your paved driveway almost made you feel like throwing up, the nerves of seeing him combined with the already present pit of anxiety due to your date later turning you into one big shaky mess as you brushed it off as “too much caffeine”.

The echo of his car door slamming shut rung through your ears, staining you with the reiteration that your ex-husband was now at your door, heavy fists knocking upon the wood. The image you saw of him in your mind morphed back to reality as you stared at him, a blank expression on your face.

“Hi, love.”

“Hi, Simon.”

Your frown was clear, the pet name you were so used to becoming a distant memory in the past few months. It was a hole you were attempting to fill, to clear yourself away from his teasing tongue and faux impression of a healthy relationship. You were divorced for a reason, you knew that, but as you gazed upon the lack of life in his skin, it was almost like he was holding a mirror up to you.

“Daddy!” You watched as your 5-year-old, Ella, practically leapt into his hefty frame, his hands coiling around her like second nature. You could feel his warmth, the heat that would build in your stomach when you felt those same digits touch you.

“Hi sweetheart,” his voice gruff, yet tone lighter as he placed a delicate kiss on the skin of her forehead, “You miss me?”

She nodded, her face buried in the hem of his neck as your other child cooed from the bouncy chair, tubby legs attempting to wheel himself to the door.

“There’s my boy,” Simon practically cooed as he placed Ella down, bounding inside as he lifted the toddler out, grabby arms reaching out to pull at Simon’s locks, gentle tugs causing you to laugh.

Your voice cut through the scene like glass. Why would you want to destroy such a happy moment? Weren’t you supposed to be reuniting? Just say it, tell Simon you want him to come home, that you need him.

“This is Ella’s bag,” you speak, holding up the pink Minnie Mouse bag, “And this is Toby’s.” Your son giggled as he muffled out the words, “Transformers”.

Simon nodded, “Are you doing anything tonight?”

Ella practically screeched, “Mummy’s going on a date!” The thrill of her laughter that followed only seemed to make the situation more awkward.

“A date?” Simon’s voice was deadly, the hair raising on your arms as you shook your head, a tight smile on your suddenly dry lips.

“No, no, nothing like that. Just catching up with an old colleague of mine.”

“But he’s a boy, Mummy,” Ella giggled. Who was raising your daughter to be such a big mouth? Your face formed an annoyed look, eyebrows raising as a line of wrinkles crinkled against your forehead, your pointer fingers massaging your temples.

“An old colleague?” Simon practically gasped. Had he met him at your old work Xmas parties?

“Let’s get you guys in the car.” You fumbled with Toby’s car seat as you strapped him in, your nimble fingers shaking with anxiety before you shut the door, pressing a kiss against the window before wiping away the minimal residue of dirt. Gross.

“Who is he?” His tone was acerbic like he was looking for an argument. How dare you try and replace him? He was your husband, the father of your two kids? Have you seen this random man before? Had he fucked you?

“God, Simon-“

“Who is he?” Simon was relentless, bullying his way into getting the answers as his arms folded across his chest, tattoos practically screaming at you too.

“His name’s Andrew. I ran into him at a coffee shop a few weeks back and he just wanted to catch up. That’s it.”

A loud scoff sounded in the air. “You mean that geezer from that corporate job you hated? The one who didn’t know it was weird to blatantly stare down your dress when you were standing next to your fucking husband?”

“He didn’t stare down my dress! You’re not my husband anymore, Simon. I can see who I want.”

“I don’t want our children to grow up thinking they have multiple dads.”

You’ll admit, that stung.

“Multiple dads? You’re out of your mind. The only reason they would ever believe they have multiple dads is if their real one stopped showing up. And where have you been, Simon? When have you shown up?”

Simon held his tongue, the warmth of the metallic taste gashing through his teeth as he practically snarled past you. “I’ll bring them back tomorrow.”

The dress you wore was practically suffocating you as you tucked your stomach in. Simon never minded the change in your figure after motherhood, he found himself liking it even more. He loved knowing that his seed put you through that, that he made you swell with his children, and he brought out the glow in your cheeks and the delicate stretch marks that laced your hips.

Andrew was nice. His tone was comforting as he walked to your door, ushering you to his car as he insisted you could order whatever you wanted. He was handsome, the salt and pepper hues of his hair settling your insecurity.

“We’ll take the Pinot Noir,” he spoke, looking at you with an almost arrogant sheer in his blue eyes. You only liked white. Simon knew that just like he knew everything about y-

You’re not with Simon anymore. You had to realise that. Maybe that’s why you brought Andrew home, let him shove his cock (that was a lot smaller than what you were used to) inside your heat, as you let out moans you had mimicked from the porn you watched with the actor that resembled far too much of your ex-husband.

Simon's fingers gripped the steering wheel early the next morning, your two children snuggled up in the backseat as he drove back to his old house, your old home. He wasn’t a man who gave up easy, he would show you, prove to you that you made a mistake. You needed each other.

Hold on. You don’t drive a red car?

His car lurched into the entrance of your home, nearly ramming into the garage as he shoved it in park, rolling down the two back windows slightly for air as he dug around in the small side compartment of his car.

The familiar gold key he had stolen from you the night he packed up all his stuff stared back at him, practically egging him on. Go on Simon, march in there. So he did. His hand rattled against the door knob, glancing back to peak into the car for a second before he slammed the door shut.

Your body froze. Were you being robbed? No. It was only Simon. A very angry-looking Simon. You stood, the white sheet barely shielding your naked body as he took in the sight of the man next to you, his hands wrapping around his shoulders as he practically ripped him out of bed, flinging him onto the floor as he grunted, eyes reared with hatred.

“Simon, what the fuck are you doing? WHERE ARE THE KIDS?”

Andrew groaned, on the floor, covering his groin as Simon chucked the masculine clothes at his head, the thin boxers soiled across the man’s scalp as he trembled.

“Our kids are asleep in the car, waiting for their Mummy to come to the zoo with them.” Simon’s words were despicable, laced with an acrimonious tone, small particles of spit seething through his lips as stared at you.

He turned to the man, a giant frame staggering over the top of him. “Get the fuck out, and if you wake up our kids when you go past, I will personally put a bullet straight in the middle of your skull,” he said, pushing a thick digit against his forehead as Andrew rushed out, clothes barely on before you felt the front door shut, a cry of apologises leaving your lips as you tried to assist him but Simon only held you back, a tight grip coiling around your arm.

“What the fuck was that? How’d you get in?” You couldn’t even place the words to say, humiliation roaring through you as you snuggled the sheet closer to you, away from his peering eyes.

“It’s time to be a family again, don’t you think love?”

[fatherbrat]

ONE LAST TIME, R. SUNA

sum. two months into your relationship with your current boyfriend, your ex-fwb finally sends you a voicenote to let you know exactly how he feels about it.

feat. rintarou suna

cw. ex-fwb!suna, cheating, mutual masturbation (kinda lol), jealousy, dirty talk, anal mention, pillow humping, possessiveness, degradation

wc. 1.2k

When you posted your first official pictures of you and your new boyfriend, you had expected Suna to react…negatively. You basically braced for impact the moment you hit post, but all you got from him was an Instagram notification and two texts.

sunarin liked your post.

rin ;)

lmk if you want me to delete our pics.  and hmu when you two break up :p

You never bothered replying, initially not sure how to reply, and then forgetting about the texts entirely. The two of you barely have any contact for a few weeks after that, but he's obviously keeping up with your socials; liking every post and viewing every story. It doesn't bother you, but it's weird going cold turkey on your relationship like that. You had expected him to reach out for some sort of closure. You wanted him to. 

Halloween swings by in no time, and (much to you boyfriend’s dismay) you dress up as a sexy nurse. You don’t remember much of the night, but you do know that you posted a picture of you and your friends all dressed up on your story before getting blackout drunk. 

Your phone dies early on in the night. Your friends take good care of you up until it’s time to bring you back home, and you don’t wake up until the afternoon. You don’t check your phone until a couple hours after that—long after it's been turned on and charged to 100%. 

When you finally check it, two particular notifications catch your attention. 

sunarin liked your story. 

rin ;)

Voice Message

The voice message is 12 minutes long. 

You exit your texts immediately, opting to distract yourself by tending to your other notifications. It doesn’t help much. Your mind races, wondering what he was talking about for so long and if it was really so important that he reached out after almost four months of near-silence. 

You toss your phone onto your bed, shaking your head. You try to ignore it, cleaning the bathroom and folding the laundry and vacuuming the living room all in an effort to forget about the lengthy recording sitting in your phone. 

But it doesn’t take long for the curiosity gnawing at you to win. 

You practically run back to your bedroom, grabbing your phone and sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed. Your fingers move quickly across the screen, hitting play without hesitation. 

The first 8 seconds are nearly silent, and you start to wonder if it’s possible that he sent such a long message by mistake.

But then you hear a heavy sigh.

“I like your costume.” His tone is hushed, like he’s telling you a secret. “You look hot.”

There’s another moment of silence, like he’s giving you a chance to change your mind and stop listening. 

But then Suna moans and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. 

“You never answered my text, y’know. When I asked if you wanted me to delete our pictures. So, uh, I kept ‘em.”

Oh. 

Oh fuck.

“I’m looking at one right now. It’s from last Halloween. When you-“ His breath hitches. “When you went as a Playboy Bunny.”

You remember. Suna dressed as Hugh Hefner and the two of you went to a party together. Then he took you back to his apartment and fucked you while you were still wearing the bunny ears and bowtie. 

You’re pretty positive you’re not wearing the bodysuit in the picture he’s looking at. 

“I don’t know how much of this night you actually remember, but I can describe the picture for you.”

You tense, anticipation sending goosebumps up your arms. 

“You’re kneeling on the ground, looking up at the camera, and you’ve still got those bunny ears on your head.”

This voice message is going in the last direction you thought it would.  Is he—?

“You’ve got cum all over your face, baby.” He laughs to himself before continuing. “And you’re sticking your tongue out like a fucking whore.”

Suna takes a ragged breath, a sound you're all too familiar with. It confirms your suspicions—he’s definitely jerking off. 

“That was a good night. We had a lot of good nights.” He sounds miffed all of a sudden. “I seriously doubt the boyfriend is fucking you as good as I did.”

You suppress a shiver. A pang of guilt heats your chest at the mention of your boyfriend. You should stop listening. Delete the message. Tell him to delete the pictures and then probably block him. 

Or you could let the message keep playing. 

Suna inhales sharply, followed by a shaky moan. You swear you can hear the sound of his fist stroking his dick. 

“I hope you’re not letting him put it in your ass like you let me. That’s our thing, okay?”

Under different circumstances you would have laughed. 

“Fuck,” he hisses. “And I hope you’re not letting him spit in your fucking mouth. Or–shit–doing that thing where you’d suck me off with your head hanging upside down off the bed.” He falters at the end of the sentence, groaning into the phone.

“I’m not gonna–” he interrupts himself, sighing deeply. “I’m not gonna pretend I’ve been happy for you. I miss you.”

You feel hot all over, a heady combination of annoyance and arousal and embarrassment. There’s a dull throbbing between your legs and in the back of your mind you wonder if this is what Suna wanted when he sent the message. 

“Just–just let me fuck you one more time. Okay princess? I’ll make it sooo good for you,” he whines. You can hear his hand picking up speed.

“It’s still early. Two months is nothing, it won’t even count as cheating.” You can hear the smirk in his voice. “God, just one last time. Please?”

Without thinking, you grab a pillow and position yourself over it in a straddle. You won’t let him fuck you, but that doesn’t mean he can’t make you come one last time.

“I promise I’ll do that thing you like with my tongue. And you can pick all the positions if you want to.” There’s a tremble in his voice. “Or just lay there. I’ll do all the work.”

You grind into the pillow beneath you, picturing the expression you know he’d be wearing if he were in front of you–batting those dark eyelashes with raised eyebrows, just barely able to control the smug curve of his lips.

Heat pools in your gut and a whimper falls from your lips. Suna keeps talking.

“I know you miss me. You have to. You’re probably touching yourself to this right now.” 

You gasp softly and rock your hips faster.

“Such a fucking slut.” You hear the telltale quiver in his voice that tells you he’s getting close. “My fucking slut.”

You moan, his words giving you flashbacks.

“Oh fuck. Fuck, I’m coming,” he rasps, before letting off a series of moans and whimpers that almost make you concede. You grind harder into the pillow beneath you, imagining Suna in his room, chest heaving, talking into the phone and making himself come to pictures of you. 

That does it. A tsunami of pleasure washes over you, forcing your body to tense before you go limp, collapsing onto your bed with a shudder.

You and Suna breathe in tandem, both of you catching your breath. 

You hear another laugh through the phone. “Damn, that was a lot.” There’s the sound of sheets rustling. “Kinda made a mess, princess.”

He’s silent for another few beats before clearing his throat. “Text me, okay?” he says quietly. “Please.”

The voice message ends.

[miley1442111]

protective- a.hotchner

summary: aaron (literally) fights for you

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!fem! reader

warnings: angst, talk of abuse, violence, general cm topics, crying, reader is a victim of DV (not aaron), gross men (i think that's it?)

not entirely proofread

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

Aaron Hotchner was a leader that you’d known from the beginning. He was your team leader, he was calm, collected, and calculated in everything. His lunch was the same everyday, he didn’t drink, didn’t smoke, didn’t swear all that often, and he wore the same sequence of shirts and suits every week. He was organised. 

Mondays was a blue shirt with a black suit, Tuesdays was a white shirt with a navy suit, Wednesdays was a white shirt with a black suit, Thursdays was a blue shirt with a grey suit, and Fridays was a white shirt with navy suit. Everything was fine and dandy, you trusted him, and you enjoyed his company. Everything was fine, until it wasn't. 

One stupid day, 8 whole months after you and your ex had broken up, he just so happens to be at the same bar you and the team are celebrating in, and he must’ve made it his personal mission to find you, to shout at you, to get you back. To piss you off. It hadn’t exactly been a good week, but then again, what week is when you’re dealing with murder cases? 

“Y/n,” Penelope sighed, looking out at the rest of the team on the ‘dance floor’. “I don’t understand,” she drew out the ‘understand’ to a ridiculous length, purely to annoy you. “How are you two so perfect?”

“Keep your voice down!” you hissed, turning back to her again. “We may not be at work but this is a work dinner.”

Did I mention he was your boyfriend too? 

“Have you seen yourself?” she gawked. “You’re gorgeous! He’s gorgeous! You two would make perfect babies” 

You chuckled. “I thank you for the flattery, but we can be honest here, he’s fucking gorgeous, and yeah, I’m alright,” you laughed when she hit you lovingly. “And, we’ve been together for 6 months, not 6 years. No babies for like… a while at least.”

“Y/n!” Charles’ voice rang out in the bar, meaning everyone around you turned to your group. “You fucking blocked me?!”He came up behind you, placing a tense hand on your shoulder, gripping the skin there until it hurt. “What kind of bitch does that?”

“Me, I guess,” you answered simply, staring straight down at your drink. Charles hadn’t been a very good boyfriend, nor a good person, and you didn’t really understand why you’d stayed for so long. Something about watching women get killed by their partners kind of snapped you into reality. Not that he was that bad but, he wasn’t good.

“Yeah right, you bitch. Unblock me, we need to talk about this!” 

“About what?” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “We broke up 8 months ago, let it die Charles.”

“Baby, I miss you,” he leaned in closer, his breath heavy with alcohol. “I miss that pretty pussy too.”

You shuttered with disgust. “Get the fuck off of me,” you punctuated each word carefully and spoke slowly, making sure he heard you.

“Don’t be like that baby,” he smirked, tightening his grip. “Or it won’t end well.”   

You felt it. The gun in his holster. He wasn’t past killing you, you knew that. You knew he wasn’t safe. He never had been. He just wanted to get you home and into his bed, and you’d rather that than dead. 

“Get off of her,” Penelope demanded. He turned his attention to her, and you instinctively reached for your gun, only to remember that you left it at home. You weren’t about to let him hurt Pen. “And who may you be?” he asked. “Don’t,” you gritted out. “You’re here for me, not her.”

He turned his attention back to you. “I know that sweetheart, I don’t see why I can’t chat, do you?” 

“Let’s just go,” you told him. He nodded, a smug smirk on his face. You got up, his hand stayed on your shoulder the whole time, his other hand on his hip. 

“Good girl,” his laugh was dirty. Everything about him was dirty and sleazy and it made you sick. But again, better you than Penlope. 

Penelope’s eyes searched for someone, anyone to see you. He needed Morgan, o-or Hotch, or just anyone. “Hotch!” she called when she finally caught his eye. He rushed over to her. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, searching her for injury or signs of upset. 

“Y/n a-and this tall guy, he was talking to her and then she just got up a-and left. She looked scared. I-I didn’t know what to do,” she stuttered through her sentence, tears building in her eyes. 

You. Scared. You. Scared. You. Scared. You. Scared. You. Scared. You. Scared. You. Scared. You. Scared. 

It played in his head like a sick mantra until he finally did something. He rushed out of there as fast as he could. He had to find you. He needed to find you. 

He ran down the alley beside the bar, nothing. Ran down the road with Morgan on his tail, nothing. Cars weren’t even moving, it was just a regular night. 

“Y/n!” Spencer called out to you. 

There you were. Leaning against a car with him standing over you. 

The three of them rushed over, ready to just take you back inside. They didn’t know how dangerous Charles was, how obsessed he was. 

“Stop!” you warned them. “Go back inside, I’m alright, I promise.” 

“We’re not leaving you here,” Derek argued. “Man, get off of her-”

Charles scoffed. “She wants this, she’s into it. It’s just some harmless fun!” 

Aaron almost recoiled out of disgust. He knew what you were into, and he knew it wasn’t this. It had taken you almost the full 6 months you’d been with him to even be comfortable enough to kiss or touch him in public. You didn’t talk about it but… it did come with the territory of being a behavioural analyst. He noticed how you shied away from the way he touched you sometimes, he noticed how you refused to drink a drop of alcohol, he noticed how you flinched at big noises, he noticed how you held his hand during sex. All of these little things, it led him to one conclusion, you’d been abused. 

He promised himself if he ever got to meet the fucker, he’d hurt him, if not kill him. 

Then in came Charles, and thus began the night Aaron Hotchner ended up in jail for aggravated assault. 

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

You sat in the police station, your head hung low. This was all your fault, none of this would’ve happened if you’d just-

“It’s not your fault,” Aaron whispered as he sat beside you, putting his cufflinks back on. Of course, you’d bailed him out and he’d gotten off with a warning and a fine, which was pretty good considering what he did to the guy. “Please don’t blame yourself.” 

You shook your head, willing yourself not to cry. “Aaron you got in a fight because of-”

“A choice I made to provoke a dangerous person,” he finished. “A choice I made.”

You nodded. “Aaron, your lip,” you placed a gentle hand on his cheek which he leaned into. His lip was split, he had a bruise forming on his head, and you knew his back was sore from the fight. You knew how hard Charles could hit. 

“My lip is fine, I promise. The paramedics gave me some painkillers. Are you alright?”

The dreaded question. No, you were hilariously, awfully, un-alright. You had to see Charles again, he touched you again, he talked to you again. You shook your head, tearing up.  Aaron didn’t shy away. He held you as you sobbed in that police precinct. He didn’t care about anyone staring, he didn’t care that the team was waiting outside, he didn’t care. He cared about you. You were all that mattered in that moment, and every moment after it.

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criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Dad!Bangchan x F!Reader TW : Chans daughter is not readers child ; Chans ex wife and daughter are shit starters ; drama of course ; angsty ; honestly, poor Chan ; fluffy ending though ; slightly suggestive at the end as well ; Word Count : 6.5k Request : Anonny : Please write an angsty / fluffy fic about Dad!chan who, after years of not dating, finally decides to get back into dating & when he finally finds someone he doesn't tell reader he has a teenage daughter because he doesn't know how reader would feel about it but when reader finds out they're really upset and avoid him and his daughter reaches out to reader and convinces reader to talk to Chan and make up because she hates seeing her dad upset. A/N : This request is so cute and I'm so happy I get to write it. Of course, it will be super drama because I love when it happens, and with Chans recent bbl messages we know this man loves this kind of shit, so... This is for Chan and Chan stans and we love Chan!

“I got a call from your teacher today, Ella.” Chan said as his daughter walked through the front door. “They said your grades haven’t been the best lately, that you haven’t been focusing in class. Is something wrong? Do you have something going on?” He didn’t want to be the kind of father that always got on his child when their grades were below average, but he also didn’t want his daughter to flunk out. He wanted to see her be successful and happy in life, that’s all he ever wanted. 

“I’ve just been going through some stuff, dad.” Ella mumbled as she kicked her shoes into the corner near the front door and dropped her bags onto the floor. “Mom said she’s been trying to get in touch with you lately. I guess she saw that you’ve been posting about going out on your facebook.” She pulled out the chair across the table from Chan. “Why don’t I get to meet your new girlfriend?” 

Chan rolled his eyes, finally looking up from his phone to look at his daughter. “You’re changing the subject. What I do in my spare time isn’t important. Your grades are. So tell me, what kind of stuff have you been going through that’s been keeping you from being able to focus. Maybe I can help.” 

She huffed loudly, the attitude that he was warned would come along with a teenage daughter was in full force now. “It’s not even important anyway… Don’t you have a date to go on tonight? That’s all you ever talk about anymore. It’s like you don’t even care that mom left…” It was finally making sense to him, but it hurt that she felt that way. He had been kind enough to keep his ex wife’s dirty secrets just that, a secret, so that Ellas view of her mother wouldn’t be warped. He was trying to do the right thing, but it was becoming harder and harder. 

“I do care that your mother left… I was hurt by it for a long time, El. It’s been 8 years, and I think that it’s time that I’ve finally moved on because she isn’t coming back. Your mother has gotten remarried, divorced, and married again in those 8 years and I haven’t been with anyone until just a few months ago. I don’t think you’re being very fair right now.” He tried to explain, but he could tell, he could just see it in her face that she wasn’t ready to hear about it. “And, just so you know, I don’t have a date to go on tonight. I was planning on being here to help you with your homework and studying so that I don’t get another call like I had today.” 

///

“Had a late night in the studio, huh?” You said as you walked up behind Chan, your arms draping over his shoulders as he sat in front of his computer in his office. You could tell he was tired, he could barely sit up straight and his eyes wouldn’t stay open for longer than a few seconds. “It’s okay to take a break, bubs. It’s 3racha, not ChrisRacha.” 

He snickered at the little name, finally swiveling his chair around to face you and pulling you down onto his lap. “You sound like everyone else. I don’t like taking breaks, it gives me too much time to think about the time that I’m wasting.” He explained, his voice was groggy and not even laced, but completely filled with exhaustion. “I’ll be fine once I go over your place tonight, we can cuddle up and watch a movie.” He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his hot breath against your skin sending a wave of goosebumps all over. 

“They’re repainting all of the apartments, I can’t even go into my own house right now. I’ve been staying with my parents.” You reminded him, although you were sure you had texted him about it and told him about it in the days leading up to the renovation. “We can go over to your place. We’ve been dating for 4 months now and you haven’t even invited me over.” 

There was a reason for that, a reason that you didn’t know of, but he felt it was just better if you didn’t find out. The last thing he wanted was for you to run off because he had a daughter, not just any daughter though, a teenage daughter who was still hung up on the divorce of her parents. She wasn’t the easiest to get along with, and although Chan had tried to butter her up to the prospect of one day meeting you, she didn’t take too kindly to the fact that he was dating again. “My place is a mess…” He lied, trying to muffle his words in the fabric of your shirt so you wouldn’t pick up on it. “We can go to a hotel if you’d like.” 

“That seems sleezy…” You mumbled, and he felt awful, he truly did. It felt like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He absolutely loves his daughter with every ounce of his heart, his entire being, he loved being her father. He loved you too though, you had been the light at the end of a very long, very dark tunnel. He didn’t want to have to choose between the two of you, it just didn’t seem fair. “I guess we’ll just wait for my apartment to be ready…” He could feel you trying to pull away, he could tell that you were upset, he didn’t want you to leave like that, so he tightened his arms around you, holding you close to him. 

“You’re not sleezy! I’m sorry I even recommended that, you’re better than that.” He quickly tried to get himself out of the hole that he had dug, it felt like he was clawing his way to the top, and everytime he got halfway out, he’d slip and he’d fall right back to the bottom. “I’ll clean my place, I just want it to be perfect for when you come over. Okay? You deserve the best.” 

The tension slowly left your body, he felt you soften up against him, and for a moment, it felt like he could breathe again. “Okay… Fine. I’ll wait… I just really miss sleeping next to you.” You whispered, and those words made his stomach feel warm and fuzzy. He missed sleeping next to you too. “I have to get back to work though… I’ll see you later. Try taking a break though, take a nap or something, that’s what the couch is for.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek before getting up, his arms reluctantly loosening around you until you were free to go. “Seriously, get some sleep.” 

///

“Where are you going?” Ella asked from the couch, watching Chan storm to the front door and yank his coat off the hook. “Did you and your girlfriend get into a little fight? Do you have to go kiss and make up now?” The mocking tone in her voice would usually only slightly irritate him, but he was already beyond irritated at the reason he had to leave in the first place. 

“No, it’s your damn mother.” He snapped, pulling his shoes on before grabbing his keys. “I don’t know how long she’ll hold me up, there’s food in the freezer, or you can grab my wallet out of my bag and order yourself something. Try to do some studying while I’m gone, please?” And without another word he was out the front door, slamming it behind him. 

What Chan didn’t know was that he had left his wallet at work on his studio desk, and you had gone into his studio before leaving to see if he was there but only found his wallet. He must have left the building without saying anything to you, and you wondered if maybe he was sick or something had happened back at his place. You were doing the right thing, at least that’s what you felt you were doing. You were just going to take his wallet home to him and check up on him. You didn’t mind that his house might be a little dirty, you completely understood that he was busy, you didn’t expect his house to be immaculate. 

You weren’t sure why you were so nervous to stand in front of his front door, but a chill ran through your body and you had to take a few breaths before even lifting your hand to knock. Once you did, you took a step back, listening to the locks being undone before the door opened. It wasn’t who you expected to see, it wasn’t Chan, it was a girl, she looked younger, at least 15 or 16. “Oh, I’m sorry. I must have read the address wrong.” You quickly apologized, bowing your head to the girl before turning away. 

“Who are you looking for?” The girl asked, and what you weren’t aware of was that she had seen Chans wallet in your hand, she knew that you had come to the right address, she was just playing a game that you didn’t know about. You quickly said his name, and she let out a soft hum. “He’s out right now. It’s date night for him and my mom.” You felt your stomach sink, deeper and deeper until it couldn’t go any further. “Is that his wallet? Thank you so much for bringing it, I’m sure he’ll be happy to know that you brought it back. Hopefully he’ll answer his phone so he can pick it up and pay the bill, you know?” 

You nodded slowly, the bile from your stomach rising into your throat. “Y-Yeah… Of course… H-Here you go.” You stammered, your hand shaking as you handed the wallet over to the girl. You knew she wasn’t lying, she looked so much like Chan it was uncanny. Why hadn’t he told you? What was he even doing with you? He had a wife, or at least a girlfriend or fiancee… He had a child… But he was going around with you? It was beginning to add up though… Why he always wanted to go over your house. Why he’d rather go to a hotel than to bring you to his own place. You felt absolutely sick. 

“Have a good night!” The girl chimed cheerfully as you made your way back to your car, the light from inside the house that had illuminated the front yard faded until you were covered in darkness. You were devastated, you were heartbroken… You had never felt more humiliated in your life and all you wanted to do was go crawl underneath a rock and hide there. 

///

The meeting with his ex wife the night before had stressed Chan out beyond belief. He couldn’t believe that after 8 years she wanted to fight for custody of Ella now. Her reasoning behind it would have been laughable if they hadn’t been so damn ridiculous. By the time he had gotten home though, Ella was already in bed and he was so tired from dealing with his ex that he had gone right to bed as well. By morning, Ella had already left for school, so he’d have to wait until he got off work and she got home from school to even talk to her about what her mother had said. 

Now, he was only looking forward to seeing you. You were the only person at this point who could calm him down and bring him some semblance of peace, at least for the short amount of time that he got to be with you. “Hey, lovely.” He called to you when he caught you walking down the hall. Usually you’d smile and wave, you’d even run over to him sometimes if the hall was empty. This time you just shook your head before lowering it and walking right by him. 

It was a shock to say the least, and his mind immediately jumped to the worst, although he couldn’t be 100% sure of what had happened that would cause you to be acting like this. Was it because of the hotel comment the day before? Was it because he wouldn’t let you come over to his house? It couldn’t be that though, he had talked to you about it. It had to be something more, but he couldn’t figure it out. You looked absolutely pissed, like you didn’t want anything to do with him. 

“Y/N!” He called out your name now, jogging down the hall to catch up with you, but you didn’t even look up at him, and you sure as hell didn’t slow down. In fact, it seemed like you sped up, like you were trying to get away from him. “Hey… What… What’s wrong? What happened? Are you okay?” He lowered his voice but quickened his steps to keep up with you, trying to duck down just enough to get a view of your face, but every time he got close enough you’d look away. 

“I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t want to see you. Whatever it was that you made me think we had, it’s over. I’d like it if you left me alone now.” You stated flatly, your arms tightening around the multitude of folders that you clutched to your chest. “I’m changing groups, I won’t be one of your staff anymore as well, so please, don’t bother me anymore.” 

Something had happened, and it wasn’t something that could easily be fixed like Chan thought. It was worse, way worse. You had basically fired yourself from being his group's staff because of whatever happened. “Hold on!” His fingers wrapped around your upper arm, stopping you from going any further. “So you’re just… Breaking up with me? You’re not even going to tell me why!?” His voice cracked as it rose in pitch, his chest rising and falling heavily as the panic fully set in. “I fucking love you, Y/N… You can’t just do this to me and not tell me why.” 

When you finally looked up, he could see your eyes were glistening, your bottom lashes bedazzled with twinkling tears that clung onto them. You were just as upset as he was. “Stop pretending, Christopher!” You croaked out, sniffling loudly once the words left your chapped lips. “I refuse to be the rebound chick that you think you can run to when your marriage is on the rocks. I won’t be strung along by you, not anymore.” You took a few deep, shaky breaths to compose yourself before you pulled your arm free of Chans hold. “Now, if you don’t mind… I have another group to meet. I have work to do. I do believe that you have some work to do as well.” You bowed your head to him before turning and walking away, leaving him more confused than he was before. 

His marriage… It had fallen apart years ago when he had come home to find his wife in bed with another man while his daughter was fast asleep in the room across the hall. It had been disgusting, heartbreaking, it would have been his downfall if not for his daughter and the moral, mental, and emotional support of the guys. He wasn’t sure why it was being brought up, he didn’t even know how you had found out, but that same feeling of devastation that he had felt 8 years ago was flooding him once again. 

The guys… They were the only ones who would be able to talk to you, they were the only ones who knew about the secret past that Chan was trying so hard to hide from you. Would they do something like that though? Would they hurt him like that? “Yo! What’s up?” Changbin said as he came up behind Chan, his arm draping over his shoulder. “You’re… crying? What happened?” The cheerful tone was immediately dropped, and even though Changbin was younger, he was in full protection mode. 

“Y/N… She… She broke up with me…. She knows about Sana…” He gasped out the words, each of them getting caught in his throat, it felt like he was choking. “Somebody told her… Someone… They had to have told her! Who!?” He was shouting now, his sadness turning to anger in a matter of seconds. The look of confusion of Changbins face was enough for Chan to know that he had no idea what Chan was talking about, and that in itself proved his innocence. That left 6 more guys to question. 

“Y-You know that none of us would do that to you… Why would we do that? You were happy!” Changbin quickly defended the others as well, seeing in Chans eyes that he was on the warpath and he wasn’t going to stop until he found out who had told you. “I… I do know she went to the studio last night after you left… She… She said something about your wallet but… Maybe she went to your house to drop it off and… and…-” 

“Ella…” Chan muttered out the name, a loud groan leaving him as his head fell back. “I have to go… Will you be okay? Can you run practice for me?” Now he was in a hurry, a hurry to get home, to talk to you… He had so many things he had to do, he didn’t even know where to begin. Changbin nodded his head, patting Chans shoulder before taking a step back. Truthfully, Chan didn’t know what the hell he was going to do… But he knew he had to do something. He wasn’t going to lose you… He couldn’t. 

///

“Sit. Now.” Chan said, not even giving his daughter time to fully come through the door before the words left his mouth. He had been sitting at the table, thinking over and over about how he’d go about bringing it up to her, but now that she was finally home, all of his thoughts had gone out the window and all he could feel was irritation. She rolled her eyes, dropping off her bag and kicking her shoes off like she did every day, heading in the direction of her bedroom. “Did you not hear me? I want to talk to you.” 

“About what?” She snapped, whipping around to face him. “About the lady that showed up on our front porch last night?” Chans eyes widened, he didn’t even have to drag it out of her, she wasn’t a liar… and for that, he was proud, he had at least taught her one good thing. “Did she dump you? Well good… You don’t deserve to be happy. Not after what you did to mom…” After… what he did…? He was stunned into silence, his head cocked to the side as he tried to think about what he could have possibly done to make him the bad guy in all of this. “She told me all about it, don’t try to act like you’re so innocent.” 

Those weren’t Ellas words, those were her mothers words and she was speaking them for her. “I tried so hard to protect your mother for some reason… So that you wouldn’t think badly of her… And this is what she does.” He mumbled, running his hand through his hair and sighing heavily. “Can you please sit? I really need to talk to you…” He stretched his legs under the table, pushing out the chair across from him and motioning to it with his head. He could see the reluctance, but she finally made her way over, dropping down into the chair, but not without an eye roll and a look of disgust. “I didn’t want to tell you the truth… I didn’t want you to see your mother as anything less than what she is… But I wasn’t the one who did anything. Your mother is the reason we’re divorced…” 

“You’re a liar… She said that you’d lie…” Ella mumbled, her arms crossing over her chest as she glared at her father. “Just like you lied to that lady. She didn’t even know I existed! You kept me a secret from her… Why? Are you embarrassed of me? Are you ashamed of me?” The sulky teenage attitude subsided, and he could see that she wasn’t just angry, she was upset. He never meant for it to be like this, he didn’t even think that something like this would happen. It’s not like he planned on keeping his daughter hidden forever… He just didn’t want to spring it all on you at the beginning of the relationship. 

“No! God, no… El… You are an amazing daughter, you’re smart and you’re funny… You’re the most wonderful thing I’ve ever created. I’m so proud of you…” He whispered, and he could see the tears beginning to form in her eyes. He should have told her these things a long time ago, maybe she wouldn’t be acting out, but it was too late, and now all he could do was try to fix things piece by piece. “I didn’t want to bring someone into your life unless I knew that it was serious… It’s one thing for me to be hurt… But I didn’t want you to potentially get close to her just for her to leave and hurt you too.” He swallowed thickly, taking a deep breath to prepare himself before continuing. “I divorced your mother… Because she cheated on me, Ella. Do you really think I would have gotten custody of you if it were the other way around? The man she married… That’s… That’s the guy… And they’re already divorced… And she’s already married again. She’s been married twice since the divorce, and I… I haven’t been with anyone until a couple months ago. Do you think that would be the case if I was the one who had screwed up?” He could see the gears turning in her mind as she thought about everything that he was saying, and he could see that it was all adding up. “Your mother wanted to meet up with me yesterday because she’s trying to get custody of you…” 

Ellas eyes widened and her head shook fast. “No… I don’t… I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to live with her, dad.” The words were rushed out, full fledged panic written across her features. “Don’t let her take me… I want to stay with you… I’m sorry… I’m sorry I told the lady that you were having date night with mom. I’m sorry that I ruined it… I’m sorry… Please don’t let her take me.” She was crying now, absolutely bawling, and it broke his heart to see his daughter so upset. 

He jumped out of his chair, running around to her side of the table and pulling her up into his arms. Right now, she wasn’t just a teenager with a bit of an attitude problem… She was his little girl, and he was going to protect her and he was going to keep her safe. He was going to fix everything, no matter what it took. “She’s not going to get you, she won’t win. You’re staying here with me… I promise.” 

///

“Have you gotten a hold of her?” Ella asked, dropping down onto the couch beside her father. It had been weeks since the last time he had spoken to you, but he had seen you in the halls at the building every single day. No matter how many times he tried to stop you and explain everything, you’d just keep walking like you didn’t know him at all. Ella could see that it was breaking him, and she knew that it was her fault. “I’m really sorry, dad…” She mumbled. 

Your picture was still his lockscreen, and every time a notification would pop up on his phone he would jump up, a single second of excitement and wishful thinking, only to be let down once he realized it was someone, anyone but you. “It’s okay… I’m gonna try to get some work done. Let me know when you get hungry, I’ll make us some dinner, yeah?” And she nodded slowly, waiting for Chan to get up and go into his little office before running to the front door and pulling on her shoes. If he wasn’t able to fix it, maybe she could. 

The walk to the building wasn’t too far, and she knew that, for the most part, whenever her father went into his office it was so he could cry in private. That usually lasted a couple hours, and she was sure that she wouldn’t need too much time. 

Everyone in the building knew her, they had heard so much about Chans daughter that she was looked at as an idol herself. They all welcomed her warmly, but she was on a mission. “Hi! Would you happen to know where an Y/L/N Y/N is? My dad sent me to make sure she got something.” She came up with it quickly, and no one seemed to question it either. They gave her the information just as fast and sent her on her way… It was far too easy… She’d have to talk to her dad about that. 

The ride up the elevator gave her enough time to think about what she would say, or at least a little bit of what she’d say. Truth be told, she was nervous. She wanted things to go well for her fathers sake, but she knew that the trouble she had caused and what she did could have irreversible damage. 

When the doors slid open, it was like fate had brought her here at this exact moment, because you were standing right outside the doors. “Oh… Uhm… I-I remember you…” You murmured, bowing your head to her before taking a step back. “I think you’re on the wrong floor though… Your father is a couple floors down.” 

Ella shook her head, stepping out of the elevator, trying to look like she wasn’t a nervous wreck standing in front of you. “I’m here to talk to you.” She said, her head held high just to exemplify the false feeling of confidence that she was trying to give off. “Are you busy?” 

“I’m very sorry if me being with your father created any problems. I’m not with him anymore though… And, with all due respect… I’m just trying to move on.” 

“That’s the problem though!” Ella blurted out as you moved past her and stepped into the elevator, turning around quickly on her heel to face you, her hand pressed against the elevator door to keep it from closing. “Him and my mother aren’t together… They haven’t been together for 8 years. I… I was upset because… I didn’t understand what happened… I didn’t know why my parents weren’t together and… My mom lied and… And I’m sorry. My dad really loves you… And he wanted me to meet you… And he’s been crying every night because I ruined your relationship because I lied just like my mom and I’m… I’m really sorry, ma’am…” 

She was once again crying, and you didn’t really know what to do, but it felt wrong to just stand there and watch her cry, so you hesitantly stepped out of the elevator and gave her the most awkward one armed hug. “It’s… It’s okay…” You murmured, and much to your surprise, she turned her body completely toward you and wrapped her arms around you. Whether there was a maternal bone in your body at all before this moment or not, you immediately felt the urge to comfort her, to make sure she was okay, to wipe her tears and tell her that everything would be fine. “Hey… Hey, let’s go to my office. We can get a drink and some tissues and then… I’ll take you home. Is that okay?” 

Ella nodded slowly, her face scrunched up and her bottom lip pushed out. She really did look like her father. “Will you talk to him?” She asked weakly, and as much as you hated him… Now that you knew the truth… It felt like the right thing to do, so you hummed in agreement to her question, leading her down the hall to your little office and pushing the door open for her. “Y-You know… You’re still his main picture on his phone. He’s waiting for you to text him or call him or something… He misses you so much.” 

You were sure that she didn’t mean to tell you so much, and you were very sure that Chan would be incredibly embarrassed if he found out that his daughter was telling you so much. “I’ll talk to him, I promise… Pinky promise.” You held out your hand, your pinky extended to her, and she quickly latched her finger around yours, a bittersweet smile tugging at her lips. 

“You are really pretty… He wasn’t lying… And you’re really nice too. I would be really mad at me if I were you…” She lowered her head, her entire body slouching forward as she sat in the chair across your desk. “Why aren’t you mad at me?” Her voice was below a whisper, her question genuine, and you didn’t really know how to answer it. 

“Well…” You began, your fingers drumming against your lap as you leaned back in your chair. “I don’t blame you for what you did… You’re a child and… And your parents divorced. I’m sure that any child would be upset if they found out either of their parents was dating someone else, especially if the kid doesn’t understand why their parents divorced in the first place. You were protected from the truth… But it made you do something that you regret. It’s still not your fault though, it’s no one's fault.” You reached across your desk, your hand faced up for her, and she slowly placed her hand in yours, the smile from earlier returning to her face, but this time it was just a little bigger and it reached her eyes. “Let’s go see your dad, yeah?” 

///

Chan had at some point cried himself to sleep while sitting in front of his computer, but the sound of a soft knock on the door had him jolting awake. “Dad?” Ellas voice came between the small crack in the door as she peeked inside, and he quickly wiped the sleep from his eyes as he got up from his chair, almost bringing his entire laptop with him since he forgot to take the headphones off. “I ordered dinner for us… It’s here.” She said between little giggles at the way he stumbled. It was nice to hear her laugh, he hadn’t heard it in a bit, not from anyone in the house. He wondered what had changed. 

“You didn’t have to do that, I would have cooked for us…” He said somberly, but he knew that she was doing it as a favor for him. He was a wreck, it was visibly noticeable that he hadn’t had more than a few hours of sleep in the past two weeks, he had bags under his eyes and his hair was a mess. He was a shell of the man that he once was when he had you, but he knew he had to get better, he wasn’t sure how he would do that, but it wasn’t fair to Ella to constantly be like this, it would only make her feel more guilty. “I’ll be right out… Thank you.” He said when she hovered in the doorway, and he watched her walk away. There was a bounce in her step, she hadn’t been this peppy in a while. He was genuinely curious and now he was rushing out of the little studio room so that he’d be able to sit down and talk to her, maybe he could find out what was going on. 

“I hope you don’t mind, I brought a friend over.” She said from the kitchen. He was adamant that he had never heard her bring up a friend, especially not one that would come over and visit. Was it a boy? She never mentioned liking anyone at school… Was she too scared to talk to him about those kinds of things? He made a mental note to sit down and talk to her about it one day this week. “Are you coming?” She called out and he hummed in agreement, trudging out of the little room with his head hung just a little. 

This wasn’t the first impression that he wanted one of his daughter's friends to have of him as her father. He wanted to look more respectable for the sake of Ellas reputation. It seemed like he didn’t really have a choice though, she was rushing him to come out, and he didn’t want to keep her and whoever she had over waiting. “I apologize, I wasn’t really told that you’d be coming over.” Chan began as he walked down the hall, and he completely froze when he saw just who his daughter had brought over. 

“I don’t think anyone really knew I was coming over.” You said lightly, the warmest smile spreading across your face as you looked at him. He couldn’t say anything, he couldn’t find words, all he could manage to do was open his mouth and croak out sounds as salty tears pricked his eyes. “Is it… okay… that I’m here?” You asked when the silence lasted longer than you thought it would, and he nodded his head fervently, wiping his eyes with the sleeves of his hoodie. 

“It’s… It’s more than okay… I just… I don’t know why… I don’t mind it though.” He rambled, looking between you and Ella who was currently setting the table for three people instead of the usual two. “You’re… staying for dinner?” He questioned, and you gave him that adorable, heart stopping smile that had stopped him in the halls of the building all of those months ago, the smile that had pushed him over the edge and made him fall for you in the beginning. 

“Yes she is.” Ella spoke up, clapping her hands together to get both of your attention. “Do you want me to eat in my room… So the two of you can talk? I’m sure you have a lot to talk about… I can leave you alone if you’d like.” But you shook your head, walking over to the table and playfully ruffling her hair before opening the takeout bag and pulling out the contents. 

“I’d like it a whole lot if you stayed and ate with us… But if you want to eat in your room… If your dad says it’s okay… Then you can.” You sounded so… sweet, the way a mother would talk to her own daughter, and the craziest part was that Ella smiled at you before taking a seat at the table, she actually listened to you… There was no attitude that came alone with it. “Are you just going to stand there and look at the food, or are you going to join us in eating it?” You asked, bringing Chan out of his own thoughts and back into the room. 

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m coming…” Chan whispered, walking into the dining room and taking his usual seat, but the aura at the table was a lot different now. It’s like the whole room had gotten 10 times brighter, and no matter which way he looked he was met with a warm smile. He had so many questions, but he knew that he had all the time in the world to ask them, and regardless of the answer… He knew that things would be better now, all of the pieces were falling back into place, and the picture was more beautiful than he had ever imagined it to be. 

~6 Months Later~

“You’re gonna absolutely crush this test, I know you will.” You stood at the stove, preparing breakfast as Ella sat at the table, her face buried in her text book to get as much last minute studying in before she had to go to school. “No matter what, I want you to remember that your dad and I are so proud of you and how hard you work. Okay? We love you.” Ella hummed softly, not even looking up from her book, but you could see that she was smiling, and that was enough of a response for you to know that she had heard you, that she was listening. You carefully placed her plate down beside her, lightly tapping the table to get her attention. “Please eat. Okay?” 

Chan ran out of the bedroom, his eyes barely even opened, his shirt wrinkled and twisted and his hair sticking up in all different directions. “Did she leave yet?!” He asked rather loudly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and blinking a few times before focusing in on his daughter who was looking up at him, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. “Don’t laugh, it’s not funny. I wanted to give you a hug before you left.” He pouted, and she quickly got up out of her chair, rushing over to Chan and wrapping her arms around him. “You’ll do great. I-” 

“No more speeches! You guys are going to make me cry!” Ella dramatically whined, pulling away from Chan and running back to the table to pack her things into her bag and then shoveling as much food into her mouth as she could before going to the front door. “Love you! I’ll see you later!” She mumbled with her mouth full of food, and before the two of you could say it back she was out the door. 

Once the door was shut, Chan walked over to you, his arms wrapping around your from behind as he rested his chin against your shoulder. “Hey…” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek that was dampened by tears that you hadn’t even realized had begun to fall. “What’s wrong, lovey?” He cooed, gently turning you around to face him, his head cocked to the side. 

“I don’t know… I just… I’ve only been here for six months and… We’ve gotten so close and… She’ll be going off to college soon if that’s what she wants to do… But… I’m gonna miss her and the house is gonna be so empty and…” You pouted up at Chan who couldn’t help but find it adorable the way you were right now. It was the most heartwarming thing, to know that you loved his daughter so much already that you were crying at the thought of her leaving. 

“Well… We have the house to ourselves for a couple of hours… We could watch a movie or something to take your mind off of being sad… Or… We could go have some fun… Surprise Ella with a brother or a sister when she comes home from college…” Your eyes widened at the suggestion, but your feet were already moving in the direction of the bedroom, that all too familiar tingly feeling building in your stomach. “We can watch a movie when we’re done… If you’re not too tired.” 

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[downbadf0rficppl]

someone's there

Bucky x F!Reader

Summary: When you walk home from the office, someone seems to be following you home. Your best friend is not happy about that.

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: Stalking/Stalker-Ex BF, Domestic Abuse, Anxiety, Angry!Bucky, Protective!Bucky, Panic Attack

Repost

You stepped out of the office, pulling your coat tighter around you against the night. It was mid-November and New York was getting colder and colder every day that passed by. You were excited about Christmas - it was one of your favourite times of the year. The lights that went up from apartment to apartment, the tree and ice rink in Rockefeller center that you and your boyfriend - Nathan - visited every year, you and Nathan driving up to Boston to meet your family. Well, your ex-boyfriend.

You'd broken up a month ago. He'd been laid off about a year ago and taken up drinking to fill the time. Nathan was not a very nice drunk. He'd yell and throw things when he was angry, which was most of the time when he was drunk, and then beg you to come back, saying that he needed you and that he'd clean up his act as soon as he got a job. You had a well-paying job - secretary to the Avengers - but Nathan was always the higher earner of the two of you. You could hardly sustain his lifestyle on your job, but you stayed. Why? You had no idea.

Nathan was a smart guy, he got picked up by some major firm headquartered in Manhattan just over a month after he got laid off. He was back to his old routine of leaving the house at 6 and coming back by 8 - you hardly saw him anymore.

And much to your dismay, the drinking didn't stop. Sure, he slowed down. He couldn't risk ruining his reputation at his new workplace. So he limited the drinking to after work. But he never stopped.

The throwing vases became throwing punches, the yelling became constant threats, consoling words became consoling sex.

You did well to hide the new bruises from your colleagues, although your act was not good enough to fool everybody. You'd let your guard down in the toilet, rolling your sleeves up to wash your hands, just as Natasha Romanoff. Yes, Natasha Romanoff aka the Black Widow aka the world's best assassin.

She didn't mention it there, but you were called to a meeting with her soon after. She sat you down with a glass of water and asked you a simple question: "Are you safe?"

Your wide eyes and trembling figure gave you away.

Nat implored you to break up with him or to at least come and live at the compound for a while - just until you figured out what you wanted to do.

You turned her offer down, stating that you were fine. You'd be fine. She fixed you with a stern glance, but even Natasha Romanoff couldn't force you to do something you didn't want.

Bucky, on the other hand, was a completely different story. He'd noticed the bruises long before Nat had, and gone out of his way to try and make your life easier. He sent you less paperwork to file, fewer menial tasks to do, and even put in a request for you to be moved to the New York office. In his eyes that meant you'd be further away from Nathan.

The next week, you both moved to Manhattan.

The bruises started to get darker, and more visible around your body. You dropped the short-sleeved dresses and low necklines in favour of long-sleeved turtlenecks with trousers.

Bucky worried for you. The dark rings around your eyes, the ghostly pallor of your skin. He was determined to save you. The only issue was he had no idea where you lived. New York was a big enough place that he'd never run into you. He knew you didn't live in Brooklyn, but that was about it.

The night where it all came to a head was after a Stark Gala. There was a group photo, where Bucky's arm rested on your hip while your arm rested on his. Nathan was pissed. He'd been sitting on the sofa when you came home, the photo open on his phone and a half-drunk bottle of whiskey in his hand. He pushed you into a wall and slapped you, his rings cutting into your face. He yelled every manner of words in your direction, calling you a 'slut' and a 'whore', and telling you that you were worthless. You cried, fresh bruises forming on your neck where he gripped you and blood dripping down your face.

You took his berating for the next few hours until Nathan retreated onto the sofa, sitting down and muttering under his breath. You opened your mouth, trying to defend yourself. Wrong move. Nathan stood up, even more agitated than before. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey that was almost finished and brought it down on your head.

The next thing you remember was waking up to 4 white walls. You were in a hospital, your hand being gripped tightly by someone. You tried to escape from the vice-like grip when a thumb ran over your knuckles. You knew those hands.

"Bucky." You whispered, your eyes still adjusting to the light. Your voice was sore from disuse, but the way that Bucky's eyes lit up, you would have thought that you were singing a love song just to him.

The calmness in your heart faded as soon as your brain caught up with you. You tried to convince Bucky that he needed to go but he shushed you gently.

"Shh. Don't stress yourself out. You're safe. I promise." The red rings around his eyes gave him away. Bucky had been crying. Over you.

You held his hand tightly that day. And the day after. And even the day after that. You weren't sure if you would ever find the strength to let go.

By the time you were out of the hospital, you'd moved back to Upstate New York - Bucky had made sure that you would never have to set foot in the city again if you didn't want to.

You returned back to work as normal - the restraining order you had filed against Nathan made your mind rest easier. The whole team was happy to have you back and smiling again, but they made sure to check in with you a hell of a lot more than they used to. Clint would swing by with an apple, and accidentally leave it at your desk - the first time, you'd felt bad and tried to return it, but you quickly caught on to his tactics. Nat would bring up game nights and movie nights, begging you to come, even if it was just you both.

But most of all, Bucky. Every day, you'd wake up to a text from him, wishing you a wonderful morning and spewing some inspirational affirmations for the start of the day. He'd bring you coffee, made just how you like it, as soon as he was back from his morning run. He'd spent a while perfecting the drink - making sure it was exactly to your standard. He'd walk you to your apartment for your biweekly 2pm therapy sessions (that he'd set you up with after he had realised how much difficulty you were having sleeping), and then off to lunch at some random hole-in-the-wall spot that he knew you would love. He'd call you as you got home, making sure you got home safe, and then a goodnight text to fall asleep to.

To others, his persistent need to be around you would be stifling. But after 4 years of having your needs be put lower than the damn cockroaches in the walls, it was nice to feel wanted.

You set your life up - personal bank accounts, new social media - anything to separate that part of your life from your new one. You got a new phone (courtesy of Tony, who insisted on buying you the latest iPhone, no matter how hard you tried to convince him that he didn't need to do that because 'where on earth would you find the money to pay him back?' He scoffed at that, "I'm a billionaire hun, I think I can afford to buy my secretary a new phone). You went to get your haircut, the shorter length was something you knew Nathan would have hated.

You'd walked into the compound the day after you got it cut, worried that no one would like it as much as you did.

As soon as you made it to the kitchen, you heard a loud wolf whistle. Nat was sitting on the sofa with Sam, and they both cheered loudly as you posed for them.

Bucky's jaw dropped as he walked into the kitchen. You were still showing off for Nat and Sam - you hadn't seen him walk in.

He walked over, reaching behind you to get a pod for the coffee machine, leaning down to whisper in your ear, "Looking good, Doll." His hot breath against your neck sent shivers down your spine.

You smiled up at him, before grabbing an apple and heading back toward your desk. You glanced back at Bucky and your eyes drifted downwards to a very large and very prominent issue. You stifled a giggle before getting back to work.

You'd continued to tease Bucky for a while, inconspicuous brushes and a few comments here and there. Enough to make him flustered, but not enough to make him suspicious.

He continued being the perfect gentleman. Helping you when you needed him to, being there when no one else was.

You started your normal journey back home, getting out of the compound was sometimes a tedious affair because of the thousands of security gates between the compound and the outermost gate. Given that this is where the Avengers live and train, it's justified. Still tedious though.

It was a quarter mile from the compound to the bus stop that took you home - you didn't like driving, especially in the frost and the dark. You put your headphones in, picking back up on the podcast you started this morning. It was an interesting one - some new True Crime podcast that your best friend had recommended to you.

The hair on the back of your neck stood up as you walked through a dark and lonely street. You gripped your bag tighter around you and sped up. There was someone following you.

You glanced behind you, your eyes catching sight of brown hair and a blue t-shirt. It had Palm Springs emblazoned on it. Funny. You'd bought Nathan a similar t-shirt a few years ago.

You fished your phone out of your pocket, quickly dialing the one person you felt safest with.

"Doll?" Bucky picked after the first ring.

"Bucky, cred că cineva mă urmărește." You said, your voice loud enough that the other person could hear you were on the phone.

"Tell me where you are, Doll, I'll come and get you." You could hear Bucky pulling on a jacket and grabbing his keys.

"Umm, cred că sunt aproape de Joey's."

"The pizza place?"

"Da, îl văd de unde sunt." The footsteps behind you seem to be getting louder, but you forced yourself to remain calm, "Am să te aștept acolo. Vă rog să veniți repede."

You ducked into the pizza place, walking straight up to the counter. By now, you were sure of who it was - but Nathan didn't follow you into the pizza place. Maybe you were just overreacting. Joey's was mostly empty, with a few teenagers here and there - probably camping out after some house party that got shut down.

"Same as always, kiddo?" Joey asked, and you nodded with a slight grin. You and Bucky came to Joey's Pizza Place a lot - Bucky used to say that it felt like home. You were inclined to agree.

"No metal man with you today?" Joey enjoyed teasing Bucky. His dad, also named Joey, had fought alongside Bucky in the war. Joey had grown up on stories of the greatness of the Howling Commandoes and it had been one of his greatest pleasures to serve him pizza every time they came.

"He's coming - got caught up in traffic."

"Busy men, huh?" You giggled at that.

The door opened again. You turned around to find yourself face-to-face with someone you hoped you'd never see again. Nathan's sister.

"Thought I'd find you here, bitch."

June stalked over to you, her face filled with rage. She had been good friends with you before Nathan and your relationship started going wrong, but when you had confided your pains with her, she'd turned her back on you. Blood is thicker than water. She'd called you names before - filling your comments with every vile comment she could think of, texting and emailing you death threats, anything to remind you of just how broken and damaged you were.

Before you knew what was happening, her hand collided with your cheek. The whole place burst into action.

Joey jumped around the side of the counter as June hurled insults at your face.

You tried to push her away as she swung at you again, but her hand hit your shoulder.

Joey pushed you behind him, as one of the kitchen hands stepped out to pull June back.

A teenager was on the phone with the police.

You tried to cover your ears as the noise built in your head.

The door swung open, letting in a draft.

Boots on the linoleum floor. Familiar boots.

Sirens.

"We were in the neighbourhood, Sergeant." Something about a noise complaint.

A hand pulling you into a firm chest. Tears streaming down your face. Your favourite voice whispering sweet nothings, stroking your hair, begging you to calm down.

"You're doing so good for me, Doll, just keep breathing." Bucky's pulse was steady under your hand. Slowly, your breathing evened out and you lifted your head to meet Bucky's eyes. He kept his arms wrapped tightly around you to stop you from collapsing.

You stayed in Bucky's embrace while the police wrapped up - June was being taken to the local PD for the altercation and also driving under the influence. Bucky told you that Nathan had also been arrested for violating the restraining order. Your heart sunk.

"I'll never escape him, will I?" You whispered to Bucky, as you sat down in your favourite booth to eat.

"You can, and you will," Bucky reassured you, squeezing your hand in his.

You ate your pizza in relative silence after that - most of the shop had cleared out with the police. Joey gave you your pizza for free, along with a tight hug on the side. He told you that you'd always be safe in here, "although metal man seems to have that covered." Bucky glared at the nickname, making you both laugh.

You walked hand-in-hand to Bucky's motorbike - his fingers ghosted over the bruise on your cheekbone from the slap as he fastened your helmet on your head.

"It's nothing, Buck. I've had worse." Bucky gave you a pointed look, "Too soon?"

He threw his leg over the bike and you settled behind him, resting your cheek on his spine. "Forever is too soon for my liking."

You smiled at that and nuzzled further into his back.

"Where to madam?" He said, putting on an exaggerated British accent. You leaned up to whisper in his ear.

"Take me home, Buck."

fin.

buy me a coffee

[deadghosy]

can i have a headcanon for lucifer morningstar with elder sister! reader? I am just in desperate need for family stuff. Like elder sister! reader is nto weak and as powerful as lucifer (maybe a tiny bit stronger since th eboth of them are archangel).

Like elder sister!reader decided to follow her younger brother lucifer to hell by becoming a fallen angel too because she is very worried for him. (even knowing the punishment are brutal and harsh but she does not care) I would love if you make the dynamic between the two where reader is the more sterner, fiercer and scary one (like maybe she used to be a commander of an angel army before) and then lucifer is just a little guy who loves ducks (he can beat ass too lol) thanks for reading and i will appreciate a lot if you start writing my ideas! take care!

ELDER SISTER! READER X PLATONIC HAZBIN HOTEL

Prompt: You are the elder sister of Lucifer Morningstar who couldn’t help but fall down for your young brother.

Warning:: Episode 8 mentions

Your brother, Lucifer Morningstar fell because of his “differences” being called a “trouble maker.” And simply having different ideas. You were different from your former younger brother as you were stern and serious at all times. But when Lucifer went to court and got sent to his own creation. Your eyes widen with fear and shocked.

You didn’t want to question things at the moment. But as hours, days, weeks, months, and then a few years pass. You couldn’t help but had enough as you started to question Sera and her rules. You didn’t believe in this type of punishment your younger brother had. But you guessed it was enough to the point you fell too.

YEARS LATER

You live with Lucifer as he was happy to see you were alive and well. Immediately when you came by his palace with your wings spout out that looked like his. He was ecstatic. He jumped into your arms with silly smile. He always loved being in your arms as he was scared how you would think of him when he fell. But you?! He was confused.

He asked you as you told him what happened and Lucifer felt his heart melt seeing his older sister care for him that much. And he started to cry while you sigh with a smile not surprised at this. You gave him a napkin which he gladly took letting you in his home which is now your home.

After he calmed down he told you how he has a daughter but an ex wife. You raised a brow as he explains his relationship with Lilith. You guess it must brought him to depression as his eye were having bags. So you cheered him up with a few fireworks which made his eyes light up as if he was a child again.

You became the 2nd ruler of hell as you were the commander back in heaven. But not any more.

Lucifer tried to tell you how he tried to give “his” people freedom and they ruined it, but you didn’t care as you put a hand out signaling him to stop. Lucifer listened looking down.

“I do not care. They shall not use freedom this way. But don’t worry young brother.” You patted his shoulder. “I won’t be harsh.”

And indeed you weren’t harsh but you were strict around some of pentagram city. Sinners understand the assignment immediately and there were less crimes around.

HEADCANNONS:

You know that meme where a person and standing there calmly and the other person is going crazy and bouncing around?

Yeah that’s you and Lucifer…cause he was being hyper fixated about his ducks to you as you just stood there and smile softly.

That soft mother like smile of yours made Lucifer feel like home as he explains more to you.

Hell, when he would miss you he would make a small opera where you had joined him in hell and how you would fix him dinner or breakfast when he came home. Just like a normal human family.

If you were getting messed with, Lucifer is full on demon mode as you held him back by his white coat with a sigh. He knows you can protect yourself but damn. He sure can throw a mean punch at assholes.

You guys do hobbies together, like he would make ducks and you would do [hobby]. It was always a calm day

I headcannon Lucifer to follow behind you like a lost duckling while you walk around the palace doing your job. You’re taller than him obviously cause you are powerful. It’s an adorable sight though.

When Charlie heard that she had an aunt, and you were in hell too! She was amazed with stars in her eyes as she wanted to meet you immediately.

And so you did. You showed up at the hotel with an angelic smile as Alastor narrowed his eyes at you but still kept a smile. You hug Charlie as she hugged you back while jumping. Charlie starts to rant about her dreams and it made you realized how much she is Lucifer’s daughter as you smile down at her.

But then she tells you how the angels are going to attack the hotel and that made you sigh as you held a dark gaze.

You have just met your niece and no one shall harm her and her dreams.

It was basically giving, “I have just met Charlie and I would kill someone for her!”😭

So when the battle started unnoticed by you. Lucifer notified you about what’s happening as your eyes widen quickly with a flash. A red mist makes Lucifer coughs covering his nose. He had forgotten how quick you were at times.

As you fly down with heavy wings, Adam and lute over a force field. You let out a breath happy to see that the hotel was fine. Until Adam broke it as your eyes widen. You swoop in killing the Exorcists left and right.

As you kill Lucifer pops up seeing Adam tormenting his daughter, bringing out his protectiveness. He saved Charlie only for Adam to get up and berate them. You fly down gracefully holding a cold look.

“Woah, didn’t know sweet tits had fallen like her loser bro-”

Before he could say anything, a heavenly glowing light beams through him as Adam gasps on the floor holding his chest. Everything went silent as people were shocked at the one shot.

“That’s my sister, AND your aunt!” Lucifer says elbowing Charlie gently with a smug smile as Charlie is jaw dropped at how you can one shot someone.

Hopefully you liked it <33

[kookslastbutton]

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

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

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

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

Word count: 14k+

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

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

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

<< prev. | series masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's Taehyung.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well…you’re right-ish.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you ready?”

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

But hold up.

Since when did he affect you like this?

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

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

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

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

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

“Mom, this is __.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His aunt and uncle offer polite but somewhat curt greetings.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tae—”

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

You take a moment to process his question before responding.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, it's fine. Tan needs his space."

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

“Tae, I told you it’s—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Should you tell him?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's both sobering and eye-opening.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Are you really that jealous about it?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don't be arrogant.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He pauses, his fist clenching nervously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

What would a relationship with Taehyung be like?

Would you truly love each other?

For how long?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tags:

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

[nathaslosthershit]

Celebration Baby, Literally! (CL16) [Blind Items AU]

(Part 6 in the Blind Items AU [can be read separately])

Summary: 8 months after Charles Monaco win, the fans get to see just how hard he celebrated

“Ohhhhhhh mate, you have been outed!” Pierre laughes as he shoves his phone into Charles’ face.

“Pierre, I cannot read when you put the screen in my eyes like that, back up” Charles responds as he shoves his longtime friend. Like many of the other victims of the ‘F1 Blind Items’ account, Charles’ face drains of color as he sees what they are saying. While there is some truth to the rumor, it still is far from correct. “Ah! Merde, they got so much wrong, mate!”

“What's wrong, honey?” Charles’ girlfriend calls from the other room where she is sitting with Pierre’s girlfriend. The couple decided to join the Gasly house for a nice dinner, although reading the post surely made Charles lose his appetite. 

Charles and Pierre look at each other as they realize she heard them. The one thing the post got right was that his girlfriend was very pregnant with what is most likely a post-win conceived baby. There was no reason to stress her out when she was so offline it would take a while for her to learn about the rumor, giving Charles enough time to convince her to go public and try to make this into the smallest problem possible. 

“Nothing, baby. I love you” He responded as he made a ‘stay silent’ motion at Pierre.

“Um okay, love you too?” was all she replied, not believing in the slightest that this was nothing. 

It didn’t help that for the rest of the night, Charles was off in his own world, thinking of how he was going to execute his terribly thought out plan. But she wasn’t going to interrogate him on it, at least not again, she had already asked him multiple times if he was okay and if he wanted to talk but he would always answer with a “I am fine, beautiful. How can I not be when the woman I love most is pregnant with our child.” While it was charming, she still wasn’t convinced he was okay after all. 

After hours of deliberation, as he sat outside the bathtub while his girlfriend relaxed in it, he finally spoke his mind.

“We should tell people” is the best he came up with after hours of thinking.

“Tell people what?”

“About the baby”

“We told people about the baby”

“I mean like everyone, we should go public.”

She turned her neck to fully face him at that. 

“Where is this coming from? Why now?” She asked.

“No reason”

“You are a shit liar, Leclerc, tell me why.”

“People know”

“What people know?” She asked. God, he was awful at explaining things.

“Everyone.”

“Then why would we need to tell them?”

Right when he was about to reply, he closed his mouth. Why would he need to tell people? While the Blind Items account had become a reliable source as they had yet to be wrong, there wasn’t any reason to actually address the issue, at least not till the baby was born, which would happen during winter break.

“...I guess we don’t need to. It's just- there is this account that posts rumors about the drivers that so far have always been true, but one came out about us and it isn’t really that correct, I just thought we should squash it.”

“What did they say that wasn’t correct?” She questioned.

“They implied we only got together because of the baby, and that we weren’t dating before I uh, knocked you up.” The ‘very public breakup’ the post referred to, was an actual breakup that happened a year prior to the world knowing. It was another very private relationship, as Charles became more famous and ‘sought after’ he liked to keep relationships from the limelight till they got serious in order to protect his girlfriends. But when his ex had found out just how serious things were with his current girlfriend, she wanted to bring it to light in order to get her 15 minutes of fame, which ended up being more like 2 minutes. As terrible as it was, once the public knew she had no connection to Charles anymore, they lost interest in her. 

After requesting he pull up the post, Charles handed his phone to his girlfriend so she could read.

“Is this what you are worried about? The part about me getting a ring for a ‘push present’? Don’t want me getting any ideas?” She joked. They had been together long enough and were about to have a baby, so the idea of getting engaged took up about 65% of the monégasque’s thoughts, the rest being about her and the baby, maybe 5% in total was devoted to F1.

“Ah no, my love, you know that is not it. Although an engagement ring would already happen even without our baby, so I will get you something else as well as a present” He said as he kissed her shoulder, then her neck, then her cheek, finally landing on her lips.

“We don’t need to say anything, let us enjoy the privacy for a while longer. Wouldn’t it be better to go into the upcoming season with a baby and a financée?” She asked.

She was right, why not make an even bigger entrance by saying nothing and letting the rumor die down, in order to enjoy the bliss of privacy for a little while longer.

“That sounds wonderful, mon amour. Absolutely perfect.”

[hunajatahti]

cookies, shenanigans, love | ls2

pairing: logan sargeant x fem!foodblogger!reader [no faceclaim]

summary: young foodblogger releases vlog and reveals her longtime boyfriend.

notes: this is my first fic in english and english is not my first language - i apologize for any mistakes. thanks for your comments <3 maybe part2??

liked by oscarpiastri, liamlawson30, logansargeant and 7,274 others

itsy/n vlog soon. now the last month's dump. 1. the best thing about the beginning of the week is coffee with the girls! 2. chesschesschess 3. i really love my sweet boys 4. we have style 💅🏻✨️ 5. reasons for our love with this car 6. no comment 7. walk with bestie 8. date with my boy 9. treasure hunt

view all 1,729 comments

jk53 that's all sweet, but why is my brother wearing honey's ex helmet in my ex kitchen?

itshoney we were bored, and then we weren't bored. itsy/n i said no comment.

user1 Why vlog? It's not your format.

itshoney: no comment. itsy/n: true or the action didn't go according to honey's plan user2: Don't know why we didn't expect it. jk53: and we are growing and evolving. not abandoning our main format, but expanding it

user2 this soft launch has been going on for too long to be honest.

user3 on the one hand i think it's ok to not want publicity but on the other hand it's been going on for years and we don't know who he is. we don't even know his name user4 but we know they have nice dates. user2 and that alone makes me want to spend the night on the highway

user5: i am new and i have a question. is it normal to have f1 and f2 pilots in likes?

user3 yes. user2 yes. they and lily (both) have long subscribed to all the cookie tv guys!!! the boys hardly ever comment. lily (gf aa23) is the most active commenter of them all.

liked by itsy/n, oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 7,164 others

itshoney girls night girls night!!! i missed 😢

view all 1,134 comments

user1 these cookies look incredible! will you share the recipe?

user2 the recipe is among the baking videos. there was an update not too long ago and they added a vegetarian version

user3: we miss the lives

user4 this week there were 21 Saturdays without lives... user5 that's a sad fact.

lilymhe i want to know what these cookies taste like 🍪

itshoney 👀 itsy/n what if it's possible.... jk53 to avoid possible further spoilers, the girls' cell phones have been confiscated.

user6: the fair is coming back???

user7 or workshops... user5 or sales.... user2 or shipping products to select subscribers.... user6 but we won't know the truth because jk confiscated the phones. jk53 it wasn't me. it was 🌷

liked by itshoney, oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 7,302 others

itsy/n on a date with my boy, my beautiful girl and her boyfriend. thanks to honey for organizing this date 🥰

view all 1,697 comments

itshoney it's NOT a poly. It's a DOUBLE date.

itshoney and importantly, thanks to the boys for the custom makeup bag

user1 VLOG WILL A DATE

jk53 no. but in the vlog, it'll probably be something that happened in parallel itsy/n AND WHAT WAS GOING ON IN PARALLEL? itshoney NO ONE DIED itsy/n THIS IS NOT AN ANSWER itshoney i made a new friend, he promised to appear in the video sometime. and then there was our typical lolo behavior. itsy/n the vlog could do without this chaos. user2 We want this chaos. It sounds great. jk53 we'll see what we can do about timing

user3 when the face is revealed. it's no longer possible. too many cute pictures.

user4 on the one hand I like how we see the chaos outside the video but on the other hand….. I can't get enough!

user5 shoppers look great

user6 business idea: sell them

lilymhe cuties

itsy/n cutie wrote a comment!!!

liked by itshoney, itsy/n, logansargeant and 8,459 others

itscoookiestv the devil works hard, but @/jk53 is even harder. A pinch of cooking and a spoonful of shenanigans = vlog recipe. enjoy.

view all 2,479 comments

itsy/n genius, you forgot to write when the vlog comes out.

itshoney it was supposed to go out some time after the post, but the isp was of a different opinion.

user1 WE WILL SEE Y/N`S BOYFRIEND!!!

user2 war is over

lilymhe I'm excited! 😍

user3 tomorrow F1 race, today vlog from the girls. life is beautiful

user4 I see these pictures, the vlog footage? And I shake.

user5 I NEED TO SEE HIM AS SOON AS I CAN.

oscarpiastri finally

liamlawson30 LET'S GOOOOOOO

jk53 vlog is officially available on youtube right now!

[the end]

[nyancrimew]

for the queer confessions; an ex of mine ended up dating multiple people and pretended it was a polycule. i only ever met one or two of the people they were dating, but they were introduced to me as friends or exes. a few months later, they break up with me because they were struggling mentally, which was sad but i understood. come to find not even a month or two after, they write up a FAKE suicide note and confessed to essentially cheating on all 7 or 8 people (including me) they were dating. arguably the worse part of all of this is they came BACK to tumblr under a new user and PRETENDED to be someone else. they followed me and sent me asks, the whole shebang. i found out it was my ex after i saw them post a selfie of a cosplay they were doing when perusing through their blog one day. i confronted them afterwards, to which they responded (in a drunken rant, they were underage at the time) that they missed me, that it was a big mistake that they had broken up with me and they wanted to get back together. i said fuck no i'm not getting back with you cause you lied to me. they never said why they faked their suicide and we eventually drifted apart. i think they deleted their blog or blocked me cause i can't find our old conversations anymore.

oh my god a former friend of mine did basically exactly this same thing and i still feel pretty bad because i helped them cover their fake suicide as i was completely lied to about why they were doing that and what was going on

[cameronluvr]

EXES BEST FRIEND — topper thornton x fem reader + rafe cameron x fem reader

summary: rafe is your ex boyfriend and you decide to get revenge on him by sleeping with his best friend topper at a party, but you didn’t expect him to walk in on you both…

warnings: 18+ MDNI ➾ consumption of alcohol, underage drinking, cuss words, smut, semi public sex, unprotected sex, drunk sex, toxic!rafe, arguing, getting walked in on, yelling etc

MY MASTERLIST / RAFE MASTERLIST

you and rafe broke up three months ago after a two year long relationship. it was toxic to say the least, rafe was abusive and controlling and everything he did ruined your self esteem, until you finally gained the courage to dump him and move on.

earlier this week, you were invited to a figure 8 house party by a kook boy who was interested in one of your friends, who was also going, of course. now it’s the night of the party, and you and your friends managed to get a few pre drinks in at your house before heading over there.

you and your three friends tipsily stumble into the party hand in hand with each other as you laugh and head through the crowded house over to the kitchen, where you grab some more drinks to get the night properly started. all four of you had began to settle into the party with booze in your hands on the dance floor, dancing with each other and singing along to the songs playing.

as more time went by, the more alcohol entered your systems. one of your friends had somehow ended up making out with a boy in the middle of the crowd, and another friend was talking to a girl she recognized from high school, which left you and the last friend alone.

“wanna go get another drink?” you ask her, raising your voice over the booming music. “yeah” she says, grabbing your hand as the two of you make your way to the kitchen again. just as you grab another bottle from the crate and crack it open, you turn around and gasp at the sight of your ex boyfriend. “jesus…” you say, putting your hand on your chest as your friend stands beside you.

“hey y/n, what’s up” rafe says in a nice tone which makes you frown in suspicion. rafe couldn’t be nice if he tried to be, there’s always underlying tones to his voice, mainly sarcasm and pity.

“she’s fine, thank you.” your friend answers for you, knowing you didn’t have much to say to him. she shoots him a sarcastic smile which made him look at her and grin.

“oh, she don’t talk anymore, huh?” rafe asks, glancing at you before looking back at your friend. “not to you, no” she scoffs a laugh, which made him laugh at her. “oooh, feisty one your friend is, ain’t she?” rafe sarcastically says to you with that stupid mocking grin he does.

“go away, rafe.” you roll your eyes and grab your friends hand before walking away from him. “awh, i liked you better when you weren’t a stuck up bitch” rafe says to your friend to piss her off, which made her turn around and stop in her tracks, making you do the same.

“do you really have to be a dick right now?” you raise your voice and eyebrows at his audacity. “oh, she speaks!” rafe sarcastically exclaims, raising his arms. your eyes dart onto topper and kelce stood behind rafe, who were looking right at you with stupid grins on their faces to wind you up.

you give them no notice because they want to see you all riled up, that’s all rafe ever wants. you ignore him completely and grab your friend again, pulling her toward the other room again. “i can see your ass cheeks, ‘guess you really are just a slut after all” rafe says to you which made you groan and yell “fuck off” without stopping or turning around, hearing all three boys giggle like girls at your reaction as you walk out of the kitchen.

“ugh. what a stupid fucking asshole” you vent to your friend. “honestly, fuck him. he’s a prick. you should totally get on someone tonight, ‘would totally piss him off” your friend suggests with a giggle to lighten your mood, making you smile a bit. “i don’t know…” you sigh before you both return to your other two friends who were now both dancing with boys. “fair enough” you shrug, laughing it off as you and your friend resume dancing and drinking to take your mind off things.

another thirty minutes went by, drink after drink, and you found yourself wandering away from your friends and chatting to a random bunch of strangers out in the hallway. you needed to pee really badly, and you had no idea where any of your friends were, so you head up the stairs alone to find a bathroom.

it’s much quieter upstairs with a few odd people going in and out of bedrooms and up and down the stairs. you began searching for the bathroom when you found it, opening the door and stepping inside. when you close the door and turn around, you gasp and jump at the unexpected sight of someone in the bathroom with you.

“shit… sorr— topper?” you quickly apologize, realizing it was rafe’s best friend. “what are you doing? get out” topper says in a mean tone, giving you daggers as he zips up his pants. “i need to pee? you get out” you say to him, noticing he was done using the toilet.

“no, i was in here first” topper scoffs, flushing the toilet and walking over to the sink to wash his hands. “great, well you’re done now, so leave” you smile with a fake sweet tone in your voice, crossing your arms over your chest to wait. “don’t care. wait your turn, don’t come in here demanding” he rolls his eyes, turning off the faucet and drying his hands on himself.

“fine. i’ll just go. i don’t care” you shrug, the alcohol giving you confidence as you walk over to the toilet and pull your panties down from underneath your dress, “what are you doing?” topper frowns, looking at you as if you’re crazy. “going pee, what does it look like?” you ask, laughing as you sit down to pee with him right in front of you.

he doesn’t answer, he only rolls his eyes at you, trying not to look at any private part of yours. he doesn’t make a move for the door, he just stands there kinda watching you with a weird look on his face. you two never really got along so well in the past, with him constantly being on rafe’s side each time you argued. “see? you could’ve left but you didn’t—”

“because i was in here first.” you both bicker as you finish peeing, wrapping toilet paper over your hand to wipe yourself. he didn’t particularly watch you do it, but it was definitely in his vision. when you were done, you flush the toilet and wash your hands, all while topper is still in the bathroom.

“great, look at that, we’re both done. who’s getting the fuck out first?” you ask, giving him a sarcastic look. “i’m staying here” topper says, “okay. well i’m staying here too.” you say to piss him off, seeing him roll his eyes. “not much to do in a bathroom…” he shrugs. “why do you wanna stay here then?” you frown.

“why do you wanna stay here?” he asks the same question you did. “to annoy you.” you shrug and giggle, both of you in a pretty drunk state. “right. typical of you” he scoffs, seeing you reach into your purse and grabbing your lipstick. “mhm” you hum as you turn around to face the mirror, opening your lipstick and reapplying some.

“y’know, you already look like a whore so that lipstick isn’t going to change anything” he says rudely, making you scoff at his reflection in the mirror. “maybe i wanna be a whore” you shrug, focusing on applying the lipstick and rubbing your lips together, all while you lean over the sink counter with your ass cheeks hanging out of your short dress.

you see his eyes dart down to your ass in the mirror’s reflection, making you smirk and poke your butt out a little more, seeing him still looking. “if i’m such a whore, why’re you looking at me like that, hm?” you ask in a bratty tone, placing your lipstick aside and turning around to fully face him, his eyes now looking back up into yours.

“you can’t wear a dress like that and expect me not to look.” he says, looking you up and down which brings tension. “why? is it too much for you?” you tilt your head, a smirk playing at your lips. “yeah. y’look hot.” he says, his drunken state allowing him to forget that you’re his best friend’s ex and this is wrong.

“yeah? you want me to take it off?” you ask, your tone more soft and flirty now as you look at him with a smirk and raised eyebrows. “i mean…” he drags suggestively, making you laugh. “come take it off me then…” you offer, slowly grinning as you see the look on his face. he wants to devour you.

he doesn’t hesitate to take a step closer to you, your bodies just inches apart as the tension grows thicker. “don’t you have friends to get back to?” he asks, “don’t you?” your head tilts. “i asked you first” he says, stepping closer and reaching his hand down to your waist, pulling you closer.

“i have no idea where my friends are. the last i seen em’ they were busy kissing some guys downstairs.” you shrug, cozying up to him as your body gets comfortable being so close to his. “weird. i thought you would’ve been doing exactly that.” he jokes, acting like you’re the slutty friend out of your group.

“well i am… just upstairs” you grin, wrapping your arms behind his neck and pulling his head down to kiss you, your lips immediately crashing onto each others. the kiss turned deep fast, with both of your hands roaming one another’s bodies, his hands slid down to your ass where he grabbed both cheeks, making you giggle and stand on your tip toes. “you like that?” he asks, breaking the kiss for air.

“mhm,” you hum, pulling him back in for another kiss. you hate to admit it but you haven’t been with anyone since rafe, you haven’t been kissed, touched or fucked by another guy since. you were too afraid to jump into new relationships or bond with new guys just in case they were as toxic and crazy as he was, he definitely turned you off men for a while…

the kiss began to get heated as your hand trailed down to his crotch to tease him, feeling him get hard as he twirls his fingers around the sides of your panties, slowly pulling them down your thighs. your dress is still on, but it is raised to give him more access. you let him continue as you feel your panties drop to the floor, making you gasp and giggle.

his fingers instantly begin rubbing your wet pussy, making you moan into the kiss. “fuck…” he says, breathing heavily as he pulls away from the kiss, both of you panting for air as he backs you up onto the countertop, slightly lifting you up to sit on it with your ass cheeks hanging off the edge.

you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer, your hands cupping his face. his lips are inches away from yours as his hands grip the sides of your thighs. “you’re so hot…” he says, both of you drunk and lost in horniness. “you’re hot” you say, glancing down at his lips then back into his eyes. he takes this as a sign to kiss you again, so he does.

his hand rubs your pussy again, moaning softly at the feeling of your wetness. “y���wanna fuck?” he asks, pulling away while his fingers toy with your clit, making you moan. “yeah…”

“i don’t have any condoms—”

“i don’t care, i’m on the pill” you cut him off, too horny to even give a fuck about extra protection. he smirks in response before making out with you again, your hands gripping the back of his t-shirt to pull it off and throw it on the floor.

topper has a great body, you couldn’t help but look down at his toned abs and almost drool at the sight. his removes his hands from you to unbuckle his pants, pulling them down slightly along with his boxers. “i’m so hard” he pants, pulling his head away to look down at himself. “yeah? i’m so wet… fuck me…” you smirk, biting your lip as you tighten your legs around his waist, motioning for him to bring his dick to you.

without hesitation he pulls his boxers down, his hard cock springing out and hitting your leg. fuck, he was so big it made you wetter immediately. you lift your legs up some more, shifting your ass in an angle which easier for him to enter you. he grabs his dick and lines it up with your entrance, pushing the tip against it and hearing you gasp.

“fuck… you ready?” he asks, making you grin. he’s actually sweet when it comes to sex, he’s much less forceful and aggressive than rafe was. he asks questions instead of instantly going for what he wants. he respects you which makes you realize maybe not all guys are so bad.

“yeah” you nod, making eye contact with him as he slowly enters you, the both of you gasping at the feeling. “fuck… oh my god” you moan, throwing your head back as more of him enters you, filling you right up with his big cock. “look at me… i wanna look at your pretty face” he says, using his hand to gently pull your head back up.

hearing his words gave you butterflies in your belly and your pussy, his compliments and soft touches making you melt. “top…” you moan, clutching your arms around the back of his neck as your legs move with his hips, thrusting in and out of you.

“shiiit…” he groans, his pace getting rougher with each stroke. you make eye contact and kiss each other a few times before his kisses trail down your jaw and to your neck, where he sucks and bites on your skin. you unwrap your hands from around him and grip his shoulders instead, moaning as he thrusts hard.

you drunkenly fuck on the countertop for a while, kissing and giving each other hickeys. the eye contact he holds with you is insane. you couldn’t help but think about how different he was to rafe, given that he was the only guy you’d ever been with up until now. no matter how drunk you were, you will definitely not forget about this moment and how every thrust felt, every kiss, every little touch on your body…

“fuck… you feel so good,” you moan, looking at your lipstick stain all over topper’s mouth and giggling at it. “what?” he asks breathily, seeing you point at his mouth. he looks up into the mirror above your head and chuckles. “look at yours” he says, helping you turn your head to look at yourself in the mirror, seeing your lipstick smudged around your mouth. you both chuckle and you turn back around to face him, pulling him in for another kiss with as his hands play with your tits above your dress. you didn’t take it off, neither of you wanted to be too exposed being at a crowded party and all.

you went at it for a couple more minutes, moaning each other’s names and exploring each others bodies and mouths. the music downstairs was so loud that it boomed and echoed through the entire house, not allowing you to hear anything else from outside the bathroom, not even the footsteps coming up the stairs…

both of you were so lost in each other that it took a moment to realize that there were male voices just outside the door, “yeah, hold on” one guy says as he opens the door to the bathroom, needing to use it. both you and topper quickly turn your head in that direction to be met with rafe.

shit, you thought… you didn’t actually expect rafe to be the one person to walk in on you. “yo, what the fuck?” rafe says after pausing for a second and immediately getting angry. “rafe—” you say, but he cuts you off with a laugh as he shows kelce outside the door what was happening, but by now topper was already out of you and had his pants back up, and you had jumped off the counter to pull your dress down. “are you fucking for real?” rafe yells with amusement on his face, pointing at you and topper with an angry laugh as kelce says “yo…” in shock.

“rafe bro—” topper tries to speak but rafe doesn’t let him. “nah, are you serious?” rafe amuses angrily, still in disbelief of what he saw. “you come up here to fuck my ex? what the fuck?” rafe pipes up, pointing at himself before fully entering the bathroom, kelce still stood at the doorway. “rafe he’s—” you try to say, but rafe shushes you. “nuh uh, you shut the fuck up, i don’t wanna hear shit from your whore ass” rafe insults, yelling at you which made you flinch a little.

“rafe calm down bro” topper says, attempting to reach down to grab his t-shirt from the floor but rafe stops him and shoves him back. “don’t” you warn your ex with stern eyes, making him laugh. “ohhh, oh i see, you two fuckin’ each other now huh?” rafe jokes, looking over at kelce for backup. “no it’s not like that” you say, topper looking back at you as you briefly stand behind him, your panties still lying on the floor as you were too afraid to bend down and pick them up due to exposure.

“oh, it’s not?” he asks, getting aggressive as he yells in your face, his fists clenching in rage. “bro it was just a spur of the moment…” topper quickly tries defending himself, but rafe turns to look at him, “topper shut the fuck up bro before i beat your ass” he threatens.

“you— you’re just a fucking stupid slut, going for my friends? really?” rafe asks you, making out like this was entirely your fault. “well maybe don’t be such a rude asshole” you shrug, playing it off. now that you think about it, you really don’t care if you upset him or not. he deserves to feel betrayed by his ex and his best friend, he did nothing but bully you.

“really?—”

“yeah, really! you’re a fucking dick and topper here is better than you ever were,” you argue, not caring if you flash yourself as you bend down to snatch your underwear from the floor, shoving them back on. “really?” rafe laughs angrily, “yeah. and bigger, too.” you blurt out, shoving past him to storm out of the bathroom. those last words really ticked him off because you could hear him and topper screaming and yelling at each other as you head down the stairs.

part of you felt bad for leaving topper, but he deserves this, too. all throughout your relationship with rafe, topper was rude to you. he always backed rafe up when you two fought, always insulted you when rafe did, made fun of you like rafe did… tonight you saw a different side of topper, an affectionate and sweet side. maybe it was the wrong place at the wrong time, but who cares? hopefully this’ll ruin their friendship for messing with you.

you rush back to the living room in hopes to find your friends, and luckily you found two of them. “girls… we need to leave” you snicker, trying to hide your laugh. “why?” one yells over the music. “i just fucked topper” you giggle.

“what?!”

“you did what?!”

both friends gasp and widen their eyes. “i fucked topper and rafe walked in” you couldn’t help but laugh in excitement thinking about how much this’ll affect rafe. “oh my god!”

“i know, right?” you laugh as the two of your friends reach over to your third and final friend in the crowd to pull her out. “we’re leaving, let’s go” one says to her, seeing her frown. “why?” she asks, just as you see rafe walking down the stairs, probably trying to find you. “that’s why… come on” you say, pointing at rafe as the four of you quickly move through the crowd and dart for the door, all running out and laughing.

“girl, you’re crazy” one of the girls says to you as you all make it to the end of the driveway and pant for air. “i know… and he’ll kill me if we don’t get the fuck outta’ here” you drunkenly laugh, thinking of the situation as funny more than anything else.

all four of you head down the road and back in the direction of your house where you were prior to the party. “what the hell happened?” your third friend asks, looking at you with a frown. “she fucked topper.” another replies for you. “what? seriously? damn… rafe knows?” she widens her eyes. “rafe saw, he walked in” you giggle, seeing the shocked expression on her face. “holy shit…”

on the walk back home, you tell them all in detail what happened despite you stumbling your words drunkly. all you could think about now was what rafe was doing. was he hurt? did he feel betrayed? you can only hope so.

NOT PROOFREAD. this has been in my drafts for SO long but i only just finished it😭 i hope u guys enjoy!!!! <3 FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED!

english is not my first language so please feel free to point out any spelling/grammar mistakes ◡̈

@cameronluvr

[nyankochan]

Golden Hour

synopsis: want to risk playing a game with the mob boss? if you win, whatever you want is yours. money. power. you name it. but are you willing to risk the stakes in you lose?

Pairing: Geto Suguru x casino dealer!reader

Content: afab!reader, Gojo being a menace, mean dom! Geto, dirty talk, Oral (f. Receiving), rough sex, penetrative sex (protection is used), after care, over stimulation, multiple orgasms, pet names, Geto has tattoos, size kink, I hope I didn’t miss anything but I apologize if I did

Word Count: 8.4K ಠ_ಠ

A/n: I actually have no idea how to play poker

After working as a card dealer for Club Tengoku in the heart of Shibuya for seven years now, you’ve met your fair share of assholes and idiots. It honestly came with the job description you willing still took at just barely eighteen years old. It provided good money. Don’t get it wrong. It didn’t bring in nearly as much money as your clientele exhausted on a daily, but it still covered your meager bills and expenses.

The hardest part of the job honestly wasn’t even the few douchebags that cussed you out for “stealing their money” when they lost or the drunkards that openly flirted with you. No, it was maintaining a sense of professionalism and boundaries. No matter how bad you wanted to, you could never react the way you wanted. Screaming. Crying. Punching someone’s teeth out when they piss you off. No. You have to keep your composure, smile, and ask “would you like to play again?”

And the one time you broke that rule was because of him.

“Ughhh I hate this shitty job!” Your coworker and closest friend, Utahime, shouts exasperatedly slamming the locker door shut. “If one more creepy old bastard tries to hit on me then I may actually gouge his eyes out!”

“Please don’t get blood on the black jack tables,” you sigh, buttoning up the shirt to your dealer’s uniform. A simple black dress shirt and slacks. A gold trimmed vest with a black tie completes the look, identifying you as one of the dealers in Club Tengoku. “It was a pain in the ass to clean after that last fight you instigated.”

“That wasn’t my fault,” Utahime huffs under her breath, haphazardly throwing on her tie. You have to straighten it up for her. “Some idiot accused me of rigging the game when he lost 60 thousand yen.”

“One of these days you’ll get fired before you can quit.”

Utahime had worked at the Club as long, if not longer, then you. She had a short temper and less patience for assholes than you. Though she’s been written up a number of times for her behavior, you think the manager of the club keeps her on to keep plenty of pretty faces on staff to draw customers in.

That, and almost everyone on staff cannot quit until their debt is fully paid.

Likely if you work for Club Tengoku, then you either dumb or desperate. Sometimes both. Whatever reasons originally bring you to the Club, work, sex, pleasure, love, money, etc. you’re property of the owner, Zen’in Naoya, until he either gets sick of you or you pay your debts back. Either with your labor or with your body.

You aren’t quite sure how much Utahime owes but her contact with Naoya cited 12 years of employment. Yours thankfully was almost complete. 8 years. 8 years of work a the Club in exchange for covering the debts you gathered when your shitty ex scammed you and left you with his debts he gathered from a Host Club in Roppongi.

Apparently, the particular club had ties to the yakuza (not that you knew that at the time) and your punk of an ex skipped town after leaving you at the club by yourself. You being young and dumb, only 18, didn’t know what to do except to accept Naoya’s assistance as he happened to be there that night. In return, you had to work with him for 8 years to pay off the 100 million yen debt your ex accumulated. You’d be done in three months, finally.

You weren’t quite sure what to do after your contracted ended. You had enough money saved to move from Tokyo if you desired, but go where? You had no other friends or family outside of Utahime and your coworkers. Naoya wasn’t the worst but he had his moments. Since you behaved and kept to yourself most of the time, you never got put on his radar (not like you had any options at the time).

Maybe he’d let you stay a couple extra months to let you get back on your feet until you found another job. You didn’t really want to leave Utahime on her own either, but for the time being, you’d been searching for other opportunities.

At nine, your shift starts. You and Utahime enter the upper level where the casino is, met by the overstimulating noise of slots, coins dispensing and laughter. The scent of booze is nauseating, and gives you a headache along with the bright neon flashing lights of all the machines. Utahime is on the black jack table. Tonight, you’re at poker.

After rotating out the prior dealer, you take your spot behind the table. As usual, you take out a new deck of cards, freshly out of the package, and shuffle them, waiting for players to join your table. Two gentlemen eventually join, one of them with a woman hanging off his arm like an accessory.

“Welcome,” you say, perfectly rehearsed. “All games at Tengoku have a starting bet of 10 thousand yen. Are you ready to play?”

The first few hours honestly pass by in a blur. The first game concludes with the gentleman with the date wining 30 thousand to turn around and lose half of it the next round. Someone plays three of a kind. Another folds just to lose it all in the end.

It is long. Tedious. Full of mixed emotions from the clientele ranging from anger to grief. Nothing out of the ordinary as you quietly and discreetly manipulate the game from behind the scenes.

See, part of the dealer’s role at Tengoku was to make it interesting. So that Naoya doesn’t lose too much money, the dealers are all given special contacts or glasses that allow them to see through the cards. A slight difference in the shuffle can make a game quite interesting, to say the least.

“My, maybe this is just my lucky night, but how often do I get to see a pretty dealer at the casino?” A deep, yet suave, voice says. You fight the urge to roll your eyes as two gentlemen sit at your table. The white haired man, dressed impeccably in a three piece suit and sunglasses though indoors, leans in too close into your personal space. “Say, what do I have to do to win you as a prize?”

You fight the urge to make a face, and continue with your usual elevator speech. “Welcome. Games at Tengoku have a starting bet of 10 thousand yen. Are you ready to play?”

“Why not make it interesting?” The man smiles a charming smile. “Let’s raise and start off with 100 thousand, yeah?” Minus the gentleman that sat with him, the other three individuals at the table looked nervous. You however continue to do your job as expected.

“Understood, the starting bet for this round is 100 thousand yen.”

You shuffle the cards meticulously, discreetly folding the aces into separate parts of the deck so that when you deal them out to everyone, the white haired man is ensured not to have any high cards. When he looks at the hand he’s been dealt, you notice his eyebrows furrow, seemingly in both shock and perhaps annoyance, yet his poker face is rather good, so he doesn’t let off too much that he has a bad hand.

“Each chip is worth 10 thousand yen at this Club,” you say. “We will go clockwise starting from the dealer’s left.” Nodding towards the timid looking gentleman who sat at the end of the table to start, the game begins.

“C-check,” the man stammers, choosing not to add to the exuberant bid already.

“Raise,” said the black haired man that originally sat with his cocky-white haired companion. He slides five chips across the table, raising the bet amount to 150 thousand. He has a rather cool demeanor. You can’t tell from his composure what he’s thinking, but he seems somewhat bored, if you had to guess.

You can also tell that the man has serious money, him and his companion both. His sleek three-piece black suit fits perfectly tailored against his broad shoulders. A shiny watch glistens on his wrist as he absentmindedly rolls one of the chips across the table, only for it to fall a few inches away. And his hair, pulled back into a somewhat messy bun is the only “imperfection” to his otherwise perfect appearance.

The man notices your stare and smiles. You turn away, face warming at being caught.

“I’ll call,” the white haired man says confidently despite his bad hand, placing five chips of his own down. The last two players call, matching the current bet.

You flip over three cards: a three of spades, the six of diamonds, and the jack of hearts.

The game proceeds slowly, or at least, it seems that way, because the entire time, you can feel the black haired male’s gaze burning holes through your head. You have a rather strong poker face, and try not to let his stare intimidate you, but for some reason, it feels as if he’s reading you like an open book. I know what you’re trying to do, and it won’t work…you can almost hear him say.

Your eyes begin feeling dry from the contacts, so you want to wrap the game up as quickly as possible. But by the end of the game, he wins with a full house: two fours and three eights.

“Damn you Suguru,” the white haired man groans, throwing his hand on the table. He had an ace, a five, a seven, a nine, the jack of clubs, and a four. None of the suits matched up except for the ace and the jack. “Why are you so good at this game?”

The man, Suguru, smiles as you slide the stack of chips totaling 270 thousand across the table. Naoya will have your head knowing you lost that much, is all you can think of, so you don’t almost catch Suguru’s words that make your blood run cold.

“I just know the best way to counter a cheat, is all.” Suguru’s charming smile contorts to a chilling smirk, and you keep your gaze down, trying not to let your fear show.

“What? So one of you bastards was trying to cheat, huh?” His companion mistakenly assumes, looking between the other players at the table.

Suguru then slides the chips right back across the table. You try your best to regain your composure and hide your unease. “I’d like to play again, Little Dealer, and this will be my starting bet.”

Luckily, at that moment, your coworker comes to relieve you from your post. You quickly skitter away, like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, weaving through the crowd of the casino and disappearing just like that, missing completely the way Suguru frowns in dissatisfaction.

“Awe, I wanted to redeem myself in front of the cute dealer,” Gojo complains, rocking back in his seat so that the two front legs come off of the ground. “I had a shitty hand.” Geto stands from his seat and begins heading the direction you left. “Hey, where are you going? You left your chips.”

“You can have them,” Geto replies coldly. “I’m going to get a drink.”

“Bring me back a gin and tonic!”

Geto saunters around the casino, eyes scanning the scene. It’s far too noisy for his liking, and everything blends together, so he can’t pick out your small stature from the crowd, much to his annoyance. A headache gnaws at his temple, and a passing waitress comes at an all too perfect time with a tray of champagne, which he snags.

He knows you rigged the game. He knew from the moment you shuffled the cards. But he doesn’t know how you did it, and he was a curious yet greedy fellow. He had to know how you did it. And by a stroke of luck, he spots you coming out from a door labeled employees only, while rubbing your eyes.

“Those contacts seriously burn,” you think to yourself. Once relieved from your station, you rushed back to the employee locker rooms to take out the contacts. Though they appeared clear, no different from any standard contact, the chemicals they had in them to allow you to see through the cards irritated your retinas. If possible, Naoya preferred everyone who didn’t already wear glasses normally to wear the contacts to garner less suspicion from the guests. But after a few hours, the shits became unbearable to wear. And you couldn’t mess with your eyes without running the risk of another client, particularly Geto, catching on.

Something about that man unsettled you. He was nothing like the man he sat with, who was loud, prideful, and quite obnoxious. No, he was quiet and observed his surroundings like a predator surveying its territory before figuring out when and how to strike. You couldn’t be too sure if he caught on how you rigged the game. After all, you only intended to make winning difficult for his friend, because he got on your nerves. But even still, your sleight of hand should’ve been so slight that no one would have noticed. You’ve done it for almost eight years in a row without no one catching your little trick.

“So we meet again, Little Dealer.” You don’t have to turn around to know who the suave voice belongs to. As you’ve been trained over and over, your facial expression blanks before you turn around to face Geto after correcting your posture.

“Hello again, Sir. Is there something I can assist you with?” You say politely. Geto looks unamused. His gaze is even more intimidating up close. He downs the last bit of his drink and sets it on a nearby table.

“I want to play another round,” Geto says.

“Certainly,” you nod. “If you go to any of the tables, another dealer can-”

Geto’s grin widens and he leans in close to your ear, just barely a whisper against the deafening slot machines. “I want to play again with you, little cheater.” The crucial error on your part is when your expression wavers, and much to Geto’s surprise, you look terrified. Nonetheless, he knows he has you in the palm of his hand. You take a step to turn and book it, but Geto’s quicker, grabbing your wrist before you get too far.

You try and fail to wrench your hand free. “P-please don’t tell,” you muster up a whimper.

Geto’s smile falters briefly, a strange shiver running down his spine. It was strange to see the seemingly cool headed and composed dealer look suddenly so…helpless?

“My, my, is there a problem here that I should be aware of?”

Your eyes widen, and you quickly and this time, more forcefully, snatch your arm away from Geto. You turn and bow towards Naoya, who seemed to appear out of nowhere. His usual “secretary” stands at his side (though you and Utahime are 99% sure they’re fucking), and he wears a sickeningly fake smile that you can’t stand. You know he’s pissed, but is just trying to put on a facade to keep up appearances.

Geto is startled by the man’s sudden appearance. He came up right behind him, yet Geto didn’t detect his presence at all. And for you to suddenly submit so willingly…

“There are no issues, Mr. Zen’in,” you say, trying to hide the quiver in your voice. “I-I was just returning from my break, when this gentleman here approached me, inquiring about playing one of our games.”

Naoya’s eyes narrowed slightly. You feel your chest constrict as the sound of your heartbeat resonates within your ears. You hold your breath and try not to cry. If he found out you, inadvertently or not, revealed one of the club’s greatest secrets, you were as good as dead. Forget leaving the Club in three months. You would be Naoya’s until the day you die.

“Y/n, look at me,” Naoya demands. You slowly raise your head only to be met face to face with his sharp brown eyes. “Are you lying to me?” He hisses, quiet and low.

“N-no sir, never.”

“I had stopped to ask about another poker table,” Geto spoke up. “The one I was playing at got a little too rowdy, as some of the other guests likely had too much to drink. I had stopped her to see if there was another table I could play at.”

Naoya puts back on his fake smile, but he leans away from you, allowing you to finally breathe, to face Geto. “Of course,” the charismatic businessman says. “I apologize for the inconvenience Mr….”

“Geto. Suguru Geto.”

“Ah, of course.” Brief recognition flashes across Naoya’s face, before his attention is turned back to you. “Mr. Geto here is a V.I.P. guest of ours, so make sure you tend to his needs with utmost respect, got it?”

You nod, bowing your head. “Yes, Mr. Zen’in.”

“And Mr. Geto, please have a bottle of wine, of your choosing, on the house, if my employee here has caused you any problems.” Naoya walks off, his secretary in tow, who gives you a sympathetic look.

Though he’s gone, your heart doesn’t stop racing. For the 7 years you’ve been employed, you’ve managed to stay off of Naoya’s radar and complete your job without incident. Why did now, of all times, did you have to piss him off? Though on the outside, he didn’t seem like it, Naoya was terrifying, heir to the powerful Zen’in family whose connections were so deeply interwoven throughout Tokyo that pissing him off almost guarantees you’d never work anywhere in the city again. He controlled your fate. Geto surely knows the influence Naoya has to be considered a V.I.P. So why did he stick up for you?

Your hands tremble still as you bow in apology to Geto. “I’m sorry for any trouble I caused you tonight.”

“Are you really sorry if you can’t elaborate on what you did wrong?” Geto nonchalantly asks, making you flinch.

“I-”

“Hey! Suguru! I’ve been looking for you!” A loud voice makes Geto sigh and roll his eyes; the many distractions were starting to irritate him. With a pretty girl wrapped around his arm, the white haired man from earlier approaches his friend.

“What do you want, Satoru?”

“You never came back with my drink,” Satoru complains. “I thought maybe you would be at least getting head somewhere, not standing in the middle of the aisle looking stuck on stupid.” He pushes up his sunglasses with a goofy grin that only widens when he sees you. “Ah! It’s the dealer! Hey, I wanna rematch. That first round was a fluke. I need to redeem myself.”

“I-I’m sorry?”

“She’s done for the evening,” Geto cuts in. “Her shift just ended, right?” You dumbly nod along. Though, it was only a little past eleven, and your shift didn’t end until one.

“Too bad,” Satoru huffs. “Another time then! I won’t lose that badly again. My pride as a member of the Gojo family won’t allow it.” Then he’s gone, pulling the woman along with him. She giggles and snuggles up against his arm.

“I must be returning back to my shift then,” you say, putting back on your polite persona. “Have a good rest of your evening Mr. Geto.”

“Not so fast.” Geto catches you by the arm. “I said your shift just ended, did I not?”

“B-but I-”

“Let’s play a game,” he interrupts. “I don’t think you know who I am, but if you want me to keep my mouth shut about your little trick, then you���ll do as I say, got it?” You meekly nod, unable to pry your arm nor gaze away from the dark haired man. “Good. Now, go grab a deck of cards and meet me in the hall.”

His commanding voice, something about it was so attractive that you felt your face heating up as you scurried away to grab a deck of cards from one of the tables not in use. Your heart…you could feel it racing, but instead of the erratic pace it beat before Naoya, it was a somewhat fluttering feeling. And it made you nauseous.

As expected, Geto waits in the somewhat dim hallway just outside the casino. He leans against the wall, flipping what looks like to be a poker chip in the palm of his hand. Now that you get a better look at him, without all the fluorescent lighting and distractions, he’s pretty damn handsome. Tall. Well built. And dashing in a suit and tie. Your heart continues to flutter, annoyingly so. Once you approach, Geto straightens up, pocketing the poker chip.

“You’re quite obedient, aren’t you,” Geto muses. “Come, I’ve requested a private room where our game won’t be disturbed.”

You say nothing as you follow the man down the hall to the elevator. He holds the door open for you to enter, before pressing the button to take you up to the twelfth floor.

Club Tengoku doubles as a hotel, but the average cost of a room for one night is more than what you make in a year. It’s in the heart of Shibuya, so Naoya can charge whatever he wants, you supposed. The first three levels are all kinds of gambling rooms and bars. The first level of the basement is one of the Clubs. The B2 level…you’ve been there once and it’s not your scene.

“You look quite young to work at a place like this,” Geto comments, watching the number slowly climb higher.

“I just turned twenty five,” you mumble.

“Like I said, quite young.” The elevator opens. Geto exits first and you dutifully follow along, eyeing your surroundings with apprehension and curiosity, as your job never takes you anywhere besides the casino, and occasionally, the club. Everything looks expensive, even more so when Geto unlocks room 1205 to reveal an impressive suite so big it looks like a miniature apartment instead of a hotel room.

A large kitchenette connects to the living room where glass windows overlook Shibuya Scramble, which looks dazzling and dreamlike in the dark of night, still bustling as the name implies. It seems like there are at least two other rooms, but you don’t want to appear nosy and stand awkwardly by the door.

“Take a seat and make yourself comfortable,” Geto says, shedding his jacket. He takes two wine glasses out from the cabinet. “Do you want red or white wine?”

“I-I’m not allowed to drink on the job,” you reply, sitting on the edge of the leather couch.

“That’s not what I asked. Red or white.” Geto’s firm voice has your knees feeling weak, and you mumble white. Geto pours each of you a glass, setting the drink before you on the small table beside the couch. He sits directly across from you, swirling the wine within its cup.

You don’t quite know where to start, drumming your fingers against your legs while keeping your head down to avoid eye contact. Naoya would kill you knowing that you’re in a client’s private room. Not that some of your coworkers didn’t have intimate relations with some of their clients. It was quite common in fact. But that behavior was saved for the private rooms of the club. The hotel was off limits.

“Do you have a preference for what game we play?” Geto finally asks, after spending a few seconds just examining you, taking in all your features and nervous ticks, from the way you play with your fingers nervously or how your ears redden with embarrassment. Quite cute if you asked him to be honest (which he hardly was).

“N-no, Sir,” was your reply.

“Then how about Go Fish?” A simple game like that? Seemed rather mundane. “But let’s make it interesting,” Geto adds. “Any time someone gets a book, they get to ask the other any question they want to know, and they must answer honestly. The winner gets to make any request of the loser.”

“Why should I agree to your terms?”

Geto sips his wine, then sets the glass on the table. “I’ll tell your little boss that you let slip a company secret if you don’t. Wouldn’t want that, would you?” He takes your silence as compliance. “Shuffle the deck. No fancy tricks.”

You shakily take the deck out the box. You carefully shuffle, trying not to do anything that would raise suspicion. Once. Thrice. Four and you’re dealing them out. Geto goes first, but you’re the first to get a set of the eights.

“Who are you?” You ask.

“Geto Suguru, or was that not made clear before?”

“No, what is it that you do?” You clarify. “Why are you considered a V.I.P?”

Geto smiles. “You need another set to ask another question, sweetheart.”

Unfortunately, he obtains the next set. The twos.

“How did you cheat earlier at the poker table?”

You knew the question was coming. There was no point in lying. “Mr. Zen’in has special contacts imported from Macau’s black market that allow us to see through the cards.” Geto stares at you, waiting for you to elaborate more to which you remain silent. He then chuckles.

“This game is going to be quite interesting.” Next, he gets all the queens. “Why did you intentionally deal Satoru a bad hand instead of all the players?”

“He was annoying. That’s all.” Luckily, you have the next set. “What kind of job do you have, Mr. Geto, that makes you a V.I.P. here?”

Geto shrugs. “I dabble in a lot of different things. It’s better to have your hand in several different pots instead of putting all your eggs in one basket, no?” That doesn’t answer the question in the way you were hoping, but you let it slide. And the next question is yours to ask.

“What brought you to the casino? Forgive me, but you don’t seem like the type of man to indulge in gambling.”

“Oh?” Geto leans back slightly. “What type of man do you think I am?”

Your face warms as you realize the implications of your words. After clearing your throat, you add, “it’s not your turn to ask a question.”

“Fair, fair,” Geto laughs. “Let’s just say, I’m very greedy, and I enjoy the casino’s opportunity for more.” He places down the four twos. “Now, why do you work here?” The man then places down all four sevens. “And what’s your relationship with that Zen’in guy?”

Him placing back to back sets throws you off. It not only puts you in the awkward spot of having two questions to answer, but it also places Geto in the lead. And your current shitty hand doesn’t have a potential match in sight.

“I…inquired some debts when I was 18,” you answer after a brief moment to collect your thoughts. Geto patiently waits for you to continue. “Mr. Naoya Zen’in covered them under the condition that I worked for him for eight years…” you pause, biting your lip, but your opponent shows no emotion towards your response and the game continues.

In the end, you hardly learn anything about Geto and he pries out much of your life story, additionally sealing his own victory when the game concludes. “Looks like victory is mine,” he says the obvious part out loud. He’s a little disappointed by how soon the game ended, not because he enjoyed it (well partially), but he didn’t quite find out all he wanted to know about you, yet. You were vague but honest when answering questions about your debts, but Geto still couldn’t understand why someone like Naoya would do anyone a favor. Let alone why you worked under him in the first place.

With the kind of work Geto did on a daily basis, he was quite familiar with the Zen’in family and often did business in other areas, but he always remained cautious to not become too intertwined with the web of a trap that was Naoya Zen’in. If Geto considered himself to be greedy, then Naoya would be insatiable, utilizing any means necessary to secure more power for himself. You were hiding something about your relationship with him, which was fine with Geto. He’d find out sooner or later.

“Now, for my prize,” Geto ponders for a moment and during the time, your breath hitches. The next moment, he’s in your face, so close that hints of his cologne tickle your nose. He’s so close that the slightest miscalculation in movement could make your lips touch. Antisly, you press your thighs together, heat burning between them, and you hope that he can’t hear how loud your heart beats. Geto grins, then backs away. “I will cash it out on another day.”

Your mouth falls agape, but no words leave your lips. Owing a debt to Geto Suguru? What game did you just become a part of?

He doesn’t tell you when he plans to claim his reward for winning the game, nor does he give you a way to contact him to inquire about it. After he escorts you to your car, because by that point it was pushing three in the morning, Geto leaves in a black Cadillac, and for the next few days, you don’t see him at the casino.

As the days roll by, work still mundane and Utahime still complaining about her clients, you grow increasingly anxious. On top of that, Naoya calls you into his office once to reprimand you about not causing any issues. You’re sure he doesn’t believe Geto’s white lie, but he doesn’t question nor bring up the contacts. For now, you’re safe, unless Geto goes back on his word and spills what he knows.

Geto’s white haired friend, Gojo, if you remember correctly, does come back every night without fail, spending upwards of a hundred thousand every time as if it were monopoly money. Must be nice to be able to waste money like it worthed nothing.

He kind of grows on you after you look past his cocky and annoying persona, keeping you company when you are not dealing for any games or cleaning up tables. You badly want to ask him about Geto, but opt out too in fear of it being misinterpreted. Luckily though, Gojo is not as tight-lipped as his companion, and often reveals too much information without you asking, especially if he’s had a few drinks.

“I can’t believe that Suguru didn’t fuck you the other night given how much he won’t shut up about you,” Gojo says out the blue, his speech somewhat slurred as he takes a sip from his third glass of whiskey. “I’ve never heard him bitch about wanting somebody so much.”

“G-Geto talks about me?” You try your best to hold your composure, but you can feel the heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck. If that was the case, then why did he avoid the casino? Or was he just avoiding you?

“Does he? That’s all I’ve literally been forced to hear about all week,” Gojo huffs in annoyance. “We were at the club the other day and he showed no reaction whatsoever to any of the dancers while I had such a bad fucking hard on I couldn’t think straight!” He rests his cheek against his fist, nearly drunkenly falling off the poker table. Hints of striking blue irises peek over the rims of his dark sunglasses. “Hmm, I guess you got a cute face. Can’t see much of a body from the uniform though. You sure you didn’t get freaky with him? No strip tease or anything?”

You recall the scent of Geto’s cologne. The subtle flex and tensing of his muscles through his shirt with each movement. How his presence alone commanded authority, yet the taunting glint in his eye would suggest something else. Something more alluring and mischievous.

When you realize you’ve yet to give Gojo an answer, who by now was looking at you with a knowing look, you quickly try to deny the accusations. “You don’t have to explain yourself,” the white haired man teases. “He’s an asshole, but an attractive one at that. Any woman would drop their panties for him. Well, probably guys too, but that’s besides my point.”

By a stroke of luck or a cruel twist of fate the devil himself appears, this time wearing a navy blue suit and a rather unamused expression at hearing his best friend’s drunken rambles. Though he only caught the end of the conversation, knowing Satoru, anything that came out of his mouth was likely sexual, inappropriate, or some combination of both.

“Don’t you have to go be annoying somewhere else?” Geto sneers.

“Not until four,” Gojo replies, trying to look down at his watch but is wasted enough that he looks at the wrong wrist.

Geto frowns, trying to swallow back the strange irritation that tugs at his chest. “Let’s play another round of cards, Little Dealer,” he turns his attention toward you.

“Ohh is that your hidden code word for fucking each other?”

Ignoring the man, Geto merely flips him off, guiding you away, a gentle hand on the small of your back, after you procured a deck of cards. As the two of you head for the elevator, you pass Utahime and another one of your coworkers. Utahime’s eyes widen and you mouth to her, “don’t tell Naoya.” Your friend merely responds with a thumbs up and an oddly proud look.

Like before, the ride up is uncomfortably quiet. Geto doesn’t even look in your direction, his jaw set and eyebrows furrowed in clear annoyance. Was he possibly…jealous that you were with Gojo?

“Um…where were you these last couple days?” You try to break the silence. Geto still doesn’t look your way, watching the number of the elevator climb to ten.

“Busy with work,” is all he says before the doors slide open.

You find yourself in a similarly designed room as the other night, back to the same set up as before: sitting across from each other with a deck of cards on the table between you two. Geto takes off his suit jacket. You try not to stare, but the action was just so damn attractive to watch.

“Shall we play another game of Go Fish?” Geto speaks once he’s comfortable. “Same rules as before.”

“But you didn’t cash out your request from the previous night, so how is that fair?” You ask.

“Hmm…then how about this. If you win, I’ll fulfill any request of yours. If I win, you’re mine once your contract ends with Zen’in.”

You freeze, blood running cold. You never told him that your contact would be up soon. You made sure to dance around the question, so how did this man find out?

“Just who are you?”

Geto grins. “Play the game to find out.”

You shuffle the cards. Geto deals them out. You look at the hand you’ve been dealt and off the bat it doesn’t look the best. No surprise when Geto gets the first set, but his question throws you off.

“What do you want to do once your contract ends with Zen’in?”

You blink in confusion, but answer honestly. “I haven’t really thought about it. I don’t know who I am outside of this job.”

The next set and question is yours. “What is your real job?”

“I guess the proper term would be Boss,” Geto hums. “But Head of the Geto Family Syndicate works just as well.”

Your heart tightens. “You’re yakuza…”

“If that’s what you want to call it.”

Just your shitty luck. Why does fate hate you so? No matter what you do, you can’t seem to get away from the mob, even though you aren’t intentionally seeking them out. Even worse, you’ve been dancing right in the palm of the boss’s hand all while ogling him while he wasn’t looking. And to make matters worse, if you lose, you will be leaving one contract just to walk straight into another.

No. You won’t let that happen. Not again.

“Why do you want me to work for you?” You ask next after securing another set.

“I never said work for me,” Geto corrects. “I said you would be mine.”

“What does that entail?”

The man grins. “You can’t ask two questions, but to answer your first, I want you because I’m greedy like that. If I find something interesting or worthwhile, why would I not try to keep it?”

His stare is intense, daunting yet enticing. Why did he have to be so tempting? You should have never agreed to play along, because you were spiraling faster than you could control.

“What are you thinking about right now?” Geto asks, placing down another set.

Before you stop yourself, you respond, “that I want you, but I can’t.”

“Says who?” Geto prods. When did he get so close? One moment he’s on the opposite side of the couch, and the next, he’s inches away from your face. His familiar cologne fills your nose in a comforting touch.

“You’re dangerous.”

“You’re surrounded by danger already from working for Zen’in. What’s stopping you now?”

Your eyes meet his dark ones, serious but oddly soft. “I’m scared that I will enjoy it more than I should.”

“Sweetheart, you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

And his lips were on yours. You aren’t quite sure who leaned in first, not that it mattered. He tastes faintly of liquor, but is otherwise gentle. However, he doesn’t linger long, much to your dismay, pulling away after a few seconds too soon to admire your flustered face.

“Let’s call the game here,” Geto says, slightly out of breath. “You were in the lead, so what is it that you want from me?” He cups your chin, forcing you to maintain eye contact as you ask.

“Can you kiss me again?”

Geto does without complaint, this time with more urgency. His scent is suffocating. Your head feels hazy, scrambled thoughts only on the man before you and the way his gentle touch electrifies your skin. A soft moan leaves your lips as Geto kisses across your jawline.

“Is a kiss truly all you want?” he teases all while loosening the tie around his neck. “You could stand to be a little more greedy, you know?” He pops one button of your vest open. Then the second. Then the last, sliding the material down your shoulders. “If you want something from me, you need to use your Big Girl words, or else I can’t help you.”

“I…” The words are stuck in your throat. What did you want? Was it okay for you to want something? “I don’t wanna…” a small whimper leaves your lips as Geto’s teeth grazes the side of your neck after unbuttoning your shirt’s collar. “Don’t wanna be selfish.”

“And I’m telling you to be. Now what do you want, sweetheart?”

“I want you, Suguru.”

The sound of his name on your lips is heavenly, and Geto forgets about teasing you any longer. He pins you to the couch with ease, using one hand to grip your wrists while the other pulls at your shirt, the buttons popping off one by one, all while his lips are on yours again, sucking on them until they’re swollen. His hands tickle your sides as he explores your body, stopping only to unclasp your bra. The cool air makes you shiver.

Kissing you was sweet and addicting, and he wanted…no, needed, to know what you tasted like elsewhere. Swiftly, Geto picks you up, the couch not spacious enough. He clumsily stumbles to one of the bedrooms, his mouth attaching to one of your bare breasts. You whimper as he bites at your sensitive nipple.

“Suguru,” you moan, tugging at his hair, pressing your chest closer making Geto grunt. You end up pulling his hair out of its bun, his black locs cascading down his shoulders. As you both tumble into the king sized bed, it tickles your nose.

“Before we go any further,” Geto suddenly pulls away, walking around to the nightstand. He rummaged through one of the drawers before finding a box of condoms. “Do you have any hard boundaries?” At the shake of your head, he nods. “Still, give me a safe word just in case I’m too much.”

You think for a moment before answering, “gold.”

“Good,” Geto says. He undoes the first few buttons of his dress shirt, tattoos peeking across his collarbone. “Cause if you need me to stop, you’re going to have to scream it, because I’m going to keep going until I have my fill of you.”

Geto grabs you by your waist, dragging you to the edge of the bed while pulling your slacks down to your ankles. He settles between your legs, bending down to give a slow lick up up your clothed pussy, tasting your wetness that’s seeped through the fabric. You gasp, back arching off the bed. Groaning at your sweet taste, Geto could feel his cock stir within his pants.

“Fuck…I’m going to savor this.” He pulls your panties down with his teeth. His hot breath on your cunt has you dripping with need. Your pretty lips are already glistening.

“Suguru, please,” you whimper.

“Whatever you want.” Pressing his tongue, he takes a long slow lick up your folds. The sensation is electrifying, high pitched moans leaving your lips which you try to cover with your hand.

Geto spreads your legs open wider, pressing his mouth as close as he can get to your cunt. He is aggressive, messily slurping up all you offer. His tongue weaves through your folds, and his harsh sucks against your clit makes you cry out, fingers gripping at his long hair.

“Gods you’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” Geto groans, the pain of you tugging at his scalp turning him on just as much as the taste of your arousal on his tongue. “Fuck, baby, pull my hair more.”

“Fuck! Suguru I’m gonna cum.”

“Then cum.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you pull at Geto’s hair roughly, making a throaty groan leave his lips. The built up pressure in your abdomen snaps, and euphoria rocks your body as your orgasm hits you hard. Your release coats Geto’s tongue, and he’s greedy, continuing to drink you up until your legs are trembling from overstimulation.

“T-too much! W-wait-“ you whimper, writhing away. Geto’s grip on your thighs tightens. He delivers one last hard suck against your clit before pressing a parting kiss against your sloppy lips.

“Don’t try to leave me now, sweetheart,” Geto says. He unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, sliding it down his broad shoulders. Two intricate tattoo sleeves cover his arms from his collarbone down to his wrists. They’re dark yet beautifully done, adding to his handsome appeal. Who knew tattoos could be so sexy.

“I said I’m going to have my way with you until I have my fucking fill, and merely having your taste on my tongue won’t satisfy me.” Geto loosens his belt, already feeling some sort of relief from the way his aching cock pressed against his pants. Fuck. The way he needed you was maddening. His body was hot and just begging to be inside you, to feel your walls clench around him, to have you close and crying out his name.

“Come’ere,” Geto instructs. “Crawl.”

You shakily get on to your hands and knees, crawling to the edge of the bed where he stood. Your face feeling hot from embarrassment but your body betraying you in the way you could feel your needy pussy throb in anticipation. Geto almost loses what little composure he has left when you stare up at him through your lashes, innocent and cute.

“I don’t think I need to spell it out for you. Help me out, will ya?” Geto watches while you loosen his pants so that they fall to the floor. You’re slightly nervous looking at the size of the bulge pressing against his boxers, and your suspicions are confirmed when you pull his erection free. He’s big, thick and stiff against his abdomen, twitching ever so slightly as the cool air teases him. The tip’s an angry red, leaking pre cum already, and you’re dying for a taste.

Geto himself could almost sigh in relief. Any longer and he thought he’d burst. He tears open a condom and gives it to you. “Put it on for me?” You do, rolling it over his length, teasingly slow. Geto shivers at your touch. “Such a damn minx.” He flips you on your backside, aligning himself at your entrance and kissing your jaw. “Tell me your safe word again.”

“Gold,” you reply.

“Good fucking girl.” Geto bottoms out in a single thrust, ripping a moan from your lips. “Fuckkk,” he groans. “Fucking knew you’d fit around me perfectly.”

He experimentally moves his hips, the stretch of his cock filling you deliciously all the way and kissing the deepest parts of your spongy walls. Geto curses again, folds your legs over his shoulders, and rams into you until you’re seeing stars.

“A-h f-fuck S-suguru-“ You babble incoherently. Your mind blank and the air knocked out of your lungs as his cock kisses your cervix again. And again. And again until seconds later you’re creaming around him.

“Such a messy cunt,” Geto chuckles, admiring the ring of your arousal that coats his length as he bullies into your weepy hole, not stopping just because you came. “Just listen to the sound of her sucking me in. She doesn’t want to let me go. Fuck. Gripping me so tightly I could fucking burst. Greedy. Greedy. Just fucking greedy.”

“Fuck-Suguru, s’too much!” You felt lightheaded. He’s too rough, chasing his own high. And with the position he has you in, his cock presses so deep. His face sheens with sweat causing his hair to stick to his face, and his eyes glossed over, solely focused on bringing you over the edge.

“Awe, it’s too much?” Geto taunts, dragging his cock back out slowly, allowing you to feel every inch before slamming back in. “I never said I’d be nice. Go on, give me another orgasm then maybe I’ll consider slowing down.”

You felt your stomach tightening, tears brimming your eyelashes. “S-so mean,” you whimper.

Geto grins. “Mean? I’m just a greedy fucking bastard who wants more than what he needs. I won’t be satisfied unless I have you cumming around my cock over and over until you don’t remember anything else but the way my cock molds your pussy into its shape and the name of the man who fucks you silly.”

He grips your chin, kissing into you with urgency. Your moans muffled into small whines as you arch off the bed, raising your hips to meet his that still when his orgasm hits. Geto groans, biting your lip. He releases into the condom feeling his abdomen constrict and heavy balls tighten to the point of breaking. His body rocks, his face burying into the crook of your neck as the hard orgasm hits him with intensity.

“Ugh…fuck fuck…” Geto captures your lips again, this time more gentle. “Damn I’ve never cum that hard.” He checks to make sure you’re ok, wiping the stray tears that rolled down your cheek. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Mhm…just…blissful…” you mutter sleepily, completely fucked out to the point of exhaustion. Geto laughs.

“Wait one second.” He slowly pulls out, tying the condom up carefully not to spill anything. He disappears into the bathroom only to return a moment later with a wet, warm towel. As he wipes you down, Geto secretly admires his handy work, the hickies and marks already starting to darken purple.

“What are you doing?” You ask, wincing when you try to sit up. Your hips were on fire and your legs felt like jello.

“Taking care of you?” Geto responds as if it were obvious.

“Why?”

“Why?” He scoffs. “I can be a gentleman too, you know.” His eyes soften seeing your slight discomfort. “You aren’t hurt, are you?”

“No, it’s okay,” you answer honestly. “I liked it.”

“Good.” Geto presses a kiss to your temple, settling beside you. “Cause I intend for this not to be the last time.”

Your gentle smile turns into a frown. Sure…it was great now. But in 3 months time, who knew where you’d be at? Your contract will end with Naoya, if he doesn’t find out what you’ve done beforehand and fires you or extends your time with him. Plus, it wasn’t like you could have a relationship with Geto, or a normal one at that. With his line of work, it would be impossible. And did you truly want to get involved knowing it was how you ended up in your current situation in the first place?

“What are you thinking about in that pretty head of yours?” Geto questions. Though meant to be lighthearted, there’s underlying concern in his voice.

“There can’t be a next time,” you say. “In three months, I’m free from Naoya and can leave. So we should just say our farewells now before we get too attached.”

Geto stares at you blankly for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. “You’re so cute, trying to act all serious and considerate.” He pinches your cheek making your pout.

“Stop, I’m serious.”

“And so was I,” Geto counters. When you avoid eye contact, he turns your cheek to face him. “In fact, you actually still owe me from our first game of Go Fish. I don’t quite remember cashing in my request. So I’m using it now: in three months, when your contract ends, you are to come stay with me.”

“But I-“

“I can arrange for you to work or do whatever hobbies you want. That is not a problem. I won’t let anyone or anything hurt you, so just stay by my side. Can you fulfill this one selfish request of mine?”

His words are sincere. His touch is gentle, and you find yourself leaning into his embrace despite your better judgment. You’re surprised by how hard his heart’s racing. “Okay,” you finally answer. “I’ll go with you.”

Geto visibly relaxed. His arms wrap themselves around you. “Good…I promise. I’ll protect you.”

You’re foolish. You’re playing a dangerous game that could end up with you getting hurt instead.

But Geto Suguru is a greedy man.

What he wants, he gets.

And he always takes precious care of what is his.

[ghxstwrites]

One More Time?

Pairing: Non Idol! San x Reader, brief Yunho x Reader

Summary: You’d left San months ago after he stopped paying attention to you due to his busy work schedule, but you ran into him at a house party you never expected him to be at and things took a turn for the better. 

WC: 2.2K

AU: Non Idol, Exes to lovers

Genre: Angst, Fluff, 2nd Chance! 

Warning(s): Oh this one hurts. I promise there's a happy ending! alcohol consumption, panicking, mentions of breakups.

A/N: Thank you to my beta reader, @bunnliix

Nets: @mirohs-aurora-society

Kinktober & Flufftober Masterlist

“Oh come on, Y/N” your friend nudged your arm. “You haven’t really been out since you broke up with San earlier this year.”

“I don’t know,” you look away from your friend. ”I still feel like it’s too soon…,” you look her way with almost a pout. 

“Y/N,” She says flatly, “It’s been almost 8 months, atleast go out and enjoy something for yourself.”

You and San had been together since  you were 17, you’d met him in your final year of highschool when you moved to Korea and you two hit it off almost immediately. 

San was reserved and quiet but something about you made him fall shamelessly in love within just a few weeks. He still doesn’t know if it was your broken Korean in your native accent, or the fact that he’d found himself in another person. 

The two of you went to the same college, which he convinced you to move in with him shortly before the start of your 3rd year, and everything had gone off without a hitch. The late night study sessions, the mutual celebration of academic milestones and achievements, and your graduation. 

He wanted to marry you, he’d known for sometime he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. He would never tell you that though, he wanted to wait until it felt right. He’d wanted you both to finish college and settle into your career fields, he wanted nothing more than to have a perfect family with you.

Until his idea of a white picket fence lifestyle started becoming clouded with the harshness of reality. 

Now that college is over, you realize just how little your careers had to offer. After several months of looking, San found something, it wasn’t great but it got his foot in the door and that’s what he wanted, but it made him exhausted everyday. 

The days got longer and the time with you got shorter and it wore on him, but you were the love of his life. 

It all hit him so harshly when he came home from the longest day that he’d had yet, and the coldness hit him. Something wasn’t right, something was different and not in a good way. 

He’d seen it from across the room, a note on the fridge, the fridge filled with pictures of you two, nothing but happy memories. He crosses the room and picks up the piece of paper to read it and as he does the world around him shatters. 

You left. 

While he was gone, you’d packed up your things and moved back in with your parents. He stands there with the note in hand as he tries his damndest to figure out where it all went wrong - did he not love you enough? What did he fail to notice? 

The light of his life, the one he was planning to spend the rest of his life with. 

You’d left him. 

You sighed, you knew your friends were right. You’d spent 6 years with him, spending 8 months trying to get over that didn’t feel like nearly enough, then again you weren’t convinced you’d ever be over it. 

You had to try though, right?

 “Fine, at least they’re mostly your friends,” you look at your friend, defeated. “I won't have to deal with questions about him.”

Both of you had walked into the house party, there were already a sizable number of guests present as you made your way through the party, being dragged by your friend through a crowd of unfamiliar faces. 

She finally reaches the kitchen, and she immediately pours you both a drink. You reluctantly accept the drink with a questioning look.

“Social lubricant, you’re rusty babe,” she smirks at you, taking a sip of her own drink.

You wanted to argue but she was right, you’d felt like a hermit most of the past year. You’d stayed to yourself and kept quiet when at work. You felt lost, like you’d moved here fresh all over again after your break up with San.

It took you weeks to stop instinctively driving back to your shared apartment, after long days at the office when it’d be dark, muscle memory drove you back. 

A few times you contemplated just walking in, apologizing, but you didn’t.

You finish your drink quickly without thinking about it as you chat with your friend, you grab another as she walks through the crowd with you. 

“There is this guy I work with, he’s in the IT department, I want you to meet him - I think you’d like him!” She practically yells over the music as you walk out onto the back patio. 

After looking around briefly she spots him, a tall and lanky boy, she smiles dragging you with her. 

“Yunho!!” she calls out across the yard, causing the boy to look up. 

Oh… He was very attractive. 

You follow closely behind as you both walk up to him, he was taller than you’d first seen and he had beautiful dark brown hair, watching him smile could light up a room. 

“And this is my friend, Y/N,” you’re pulled out of your trance as your name is called, causing you to look up at him as he extends his hand. 

“Yunho, was it?” you question him as he nods softly. 

“Oh would you look at that, one of my work friends just showed up, I’ll be back to check on you guys in a bit!” she smirks as she runs off before you have the chance to say anything.

“So, she’s told me quite a lot about you at work,” Yunho smiles softly

You turn your focus back to him, noticing his bright smile. “I’d hope it’s all good,” you can’t help but chuckle, finding the man's presence comfortable.

“I’d like to think so,” He pauses, taking you in as the two of you stand there in comfortable silence. “So, Y/N, are you… seeing anyone right now?”

You look at the man, slightly shocked.

“N-no,” you stutter, the question seeming to catch you off guard. 

He quirks his eyebrow, but chooses to pay it no mind since your friend had let him know you were most definitely single. 

Just as you were about to reply with something, your eyes happened to catch a familiar face out of the corner of your eye.

Choi San

What the hell was he doing here?  The two of you after the break up never ran in the same circles. You felt every emotion all at one time, and it hit you like a ton of bricks. Not wanting to be rude, you excused yourself from Yunho. You promised you’d catch up with him later, but you needed to go find your friend. 

You’d made your way through the crowd of people, being very careful to not tip San off that you were here. You run up to her, pulling her out of conversation as tears threaten to spill.

“Woah, hey! Chill, what happened?” she looked concerned  as she held onto you. 

“San’s here, I just saw him, we need to leave,” you frantically speak

She cranes her head up and looks around, she doesn’t see the taller boy anywhere, not even in the backyard. 

“Y/N, honey, I think the drinks are getting to you.. I don’t see him,” She reassured you. 

You blinked away the tears in your eyes as you looked around, seeming to agree with her.

“You’re right.. Maybe, just… someone who looks like him,” You sigh.

You’d made your way back outside to find Yunho, who had long disappeared at this point, so you’d settled into a crowd of people. The thought of San settling back into your head, what if he really was here? 

No, she was right, your old apartment was too far from here, unless he’d met someone close. The thought both broke your heart and infuriated you. You had decided to go grab your 4th? 5th? Drink of the night, you’d lost count an hour or so ago. You made your way through a crowd of people before you stumbled into someone's broad back. 

“I’m sorry! I was -,” you paused, as you looked up to greet the stranger attempting to spew apologies, you met a familiar pair of eyes.

“San…?” You spoke softly. 

“Y/N….,” his voice sounded broken, he clearly didn’t expect to find you here either. 

You broke your eye contact after what felt like an eternity, trying to push by him in an attempt to hide your tears from him. He grabs your arm, turning you back around to face him.

“Can we talk? Please?” He begs as the grip on your arm loosens. 

You  search his eyes for a  moment before sighing, “I’ve never been able to tell you no.”

His signature smile beams at you as he gestures to the sliding glass doors signaling for the two of you to head outside. 

The air felt different as you stepped outside with San, almost colder and even more dense. You’d noticed the attendees outside had thinned out. You felt scared, you weren't sure why either. San would never do anything to hurt you, no matter how bad you’d hurt him. Maybe it was the fear of facing him after so long. He’d pulled you to the side of the deck, leaning against  the railing as he took one last look at you before speaking.

“I missed you..,” he spoke softly.

Your heart immediately broke, you knew what you did and there was a part of you that knew you wouldn’t be able to outrun it. 

Not forever. 

“I… I missed you too,” you choked out, unable to look at him. ”Probably for a lot longer than you’ve missed me.” 

He bit his lip, attempting to hold back his tears.

He knew, he finally put the pieces together weeks after you’d left. He was never around, there were nights you’d be asleep and his dinner had been cold or put in the microwave as an attempt to keep it warm. Your days off he was exhausted and his days off you worked. 

The job he’d gotten propelled his career forward, the long nights and strict performance reviews had been worth it, but not at the cost of doing what he did to you, to what the two of you built together.  

“Y/N, I.. I’m sorry.. I was selfish,” his voice was shaky, “I was so focused on trying to make our life perfect, I neglected the most perfect part of mine.”

His eyes were glossy as he looked back at you.

“I never saw you anymore San, the times I did you were asleep or the rare nights we were actually able to sit down for dinner together,” you broke, tears fell down your cheek as you brought your hand up to your face.

“I left that job,” he spoke plainly.

“After you left I worked, maybe for another month, until I realized it drove us apart,” He chokes out, tears welling in his eyes. 

You made eye contact, you both were vulnerable with each other for the first time in what felt like years. 

“I wanted to, no, I should’ve reached out,” he admits, “But I was a coward, I was sure you hated me, and that's the reason you’d left without much of a word.” 

“It took me months to break myself of the habit of showing up at our old home,” you share. 

It must’ve been the alcohol fueling these confessions, the tears, otherwise you’re not sure you’d be standing here with him like this. 

“Every hard day at work, my brain wanted to come home, and it recognized you were home, San,” you dry your face before looking back at him. ”I can’t tell you how many times I sat in our driveway or across the street contemplating on coming back… apologizing for leaving the way I did.��� 

“I wish you did…,” he chuckles softly, “I would have welcomed you back with open arms.” 

You stand there, speechless. The man before you should hate you, you walked out a life the two of you spent years building together.

But he didn’t. 

He stood there, his feline eyes drinking in every detail of you, the way you’d cut your hair since the breakup, the necklace he bought you was missing, the way your eyes sparkled with the reflection of the porch light, and the way your face turned so pink when you  drank. 

He missed it. He missed you. 

He smiled at you, a smile you had no reason to be on the receiving end of.

“Byeol misses you too, she sleeps on your side of the bed most nights,” he tells you, chuckling.

“You never moved on?” you reply softly.

“I never dreamed of it…” He said “You were all I ever wanted, and I never got closure… I was hopeful I'd find you again, no matter how long it took.” 

He reached out and grabbed your hand. 

“This may be selfish, and you have every right to hate me but…,” he pauses, “Am I asking too much to try again? One more time?” He looks at you, you can feel the amount of love he still holds for you.

You smiled at him. Closing the distance between the two of you, you wrap your arms around his neck in a tight embrace. He’s taken aback at first, but it doesn’t take long before he wraps his arms around you just as tight.

You whisper softly, barely loud enough to hear.

“One more time.”