#he's smiling because all the secrets are out and he can breathe | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mononijikayu · 3 days ago

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toxic till the end — fushiguro toji.

“You can’t fix everything. You should know that.” you replied, your words trembling as they left your lips. “I don’t know if I can ever forget that.” He nodded slowly, his expression one of deep regret. “I know.” Silence grew once more between the two of you. You could feel the tears pricking your eyes harshly. And you could tell that he was noticing as much as you.

GENRE: alternate universe - actor/s au!;

WARNING/S: afab! reader, nsfw, r-18, smut, making out, biting, scratching, kissing, rough sex, p-i-v sex, fingering (female receiving), creampie, pet names (babe, etc....), age gap (reader is late 20s, toji is mid 30s) love, humor, light-hearted, long-term relationship, secret relationship, cheating, break-up, falling out of love, toxic relationship, drama, depression, grief, sexual intercourse, depictions of sexual acts, depiction of naked bodies, depiction of cheating, depiction of grief, depiction of depression, mention of sexual innuendo, mention of sexual intercourse, actor! toji, actor! reader;

WORD COUNT: 15k words

NOTE: i know i disappeared for almost a week and im really sorry,,,,,i just wasn't feeling well and in the middle of that - i was also busy. i genuinely wanted to publish something but there were things that came up - including me finishing a commission. and also worrying about uni stuff. its a really long one, i still have stuff to edit for bonus cuts for that. i am really sorry but i come back with a fury with toji!!! anyway, i hope my absence didnt make yall leave. enjoy and i love yall :']

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YOU NEVER LIKED BEING PERCEIVED. Even if you were an actor, you didn’t want to be. You absolutely hated the attention, you hated having to be known to people you didn’t know on the street.

He knew that. Which is why you never allowed yourself to go on dates with him in that local restaurant. Or ever allow yourself to be comfortable kissing him, knowing paparazzis were following you both.

But he was loud about his love for you. He always has been. It was obvious when he looked at you during press tours. It was obvious when he heard the sound of your name and smiled like it was the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

He was never good at hiding the fact that he was in love. That’s just how it was with loving a man so magnetic and passionate as him. He tried to convince you that he wanted the world to know.

Yet, you weren’t prepared to do that. You weren’t prepared for the world to know, for the world to be in your bed. You didn’t want everyone to know that you were his, because you were scared. You were scared of what could happen.

You’ve gone through the trauma of it before, your own ex–boyfriend announcing the break–up before you even knew about the break up. And all the people that hated you, for making him sad. For all those fantasies in their head of all the things you did wrong. You were frightful that it would repeat all over again.

Perhaps he got tired of that. Perhaps he got tired of waiting. Maybe he got tired of you. And you were scared of that. You were scared that this was the case.

You were horrified that he would do the same thing like that ex-boyfriend you loved before. You didn’t want to manifest it. But you also didn’t make a move. You were right. He would get tired of you. You made it this way. You let this happen.

The apartment was eerily silent, the kind of silence that pressed down on you, making every breath feel heavier. You stood in the living room, arms crossed, heart racing as you waited for Toji to come home. He had a late night shoot, he told you. They’d extended the shoot, because of the weather. That’s what he said in the next text. He won’t be home until today.

But as you waited home, all that plagued your mind was the conversation with your friend this morning. You felt sick as the words repeated over the phone.

It won’t go away, not even when you want it to. It remained ever so present, still echoing, hammering deep in your mind. It was as if the weight of her words settled deep in your chest like a knife would.

"I saw Toji last night." she had said, her voice hesitant. "He was with someone else."

“What….what do you mean by that?” You muttered back at her, still reeling from the words that slipped from her mouth. “Surely it was just another cast member—”

“They were kissing, babes.” She told you earnestly, yet you could tell she was having a hard time with it. She knew that everything she’s saying was breaking your heart. “I’m so sorry.”

“No…no, thank you for telling me.”

You hung up after that. You didn’t know what else to say. What could you have said that could have made it any better? You couldn’t think of anything. All that remained were the years of memories together, now scattered across that empty space where love should be.

The betrayal, the doubt, and the fear had been building in that space where you should feel your love for him. A place where it is still there, that love, bleeding and tattered by all that grief that comes with mourning the relationship. And now, standing here in the place you both called home, it felt like you were about to explode.

The door clicked open just around lunch time. You had remembered you had given Toji a separate key for your house. Just as you had a key for his. You didn’t want to see him just yet. Not right now. Fushiguro Toji stepped in, face covered by the levelling of his cap. His usual confident demeanor clouded by an unease you hadn’t seen before. He looked at you, the tension in the air immediately palpable.

Babe, didn’t know you’d be awake." he said, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

"You said you’d never do that to me." you replied, your voice trembling with a mix of hurt and anger. “You said you wouldn’t be like him.”

He nodded, closing the door behind him. "Alright. What’s going on?"

"I know you were with someone else last night, and you kissed her. My friend saw you." you spat, your voice breaking with the anger and pain you kept hidden. "How could you do this? How could you betray me like that?"

His eyes widened, and for a moment, he looked caught off guard. Then his expression hardened. "It’s not what you think."

"Not what I think?" you repeated, your voice rising. "Then explain it to me, Toji. Explain why you were out with someone else while I was here, thinking everything was fine."

"I was tired, okay?" he snapped back, his voice louder now, the frustration evident. "Tired of feeling like I’m not enough, like I’m just waiting for you to trust me."

“How long has it been?” You asked him. “How long have you and your lover been going behind my back?”

“Babe—”

“How long?”

He looked away, the contorting guilt bellowing all over his face. This was a look you had seen time and time again. “A few months.”

"A few months." You repeated.

“Yes, but it was casual hook ups and she has a boyfriend too—”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” you shouted, tears streaming down your face. "You think that’s going to fix anything?"

"I didn’t plan for it to happen." he said, his voice softening, but the damage was done. "I was just... I felt alone."

"You felt alone?" you repeated, the hurt in your voice cutting through the air. "What about me, Toji? Do you have any idea how alone I’ve felt, wondering if you’d get tired of me, if you’d leave me like everyone else has?"

He took a step closer, his expression filled with regret. "I never wanted to hurt you."

"But you did." you whispered, the fight leaving your body as the weight of it all pressed down on you. "God, I just….is it my fault? Is it because I have a busy schedule? Or is it just because I haven’t allowed the world to know about you? And you were desperate to be seen with someone?”

He shook his head. “That’s not the case.”

“It seems to look like it.” You laughed to yourself, almost mad in the thought of your grief. “You did say she had a boyfriend. I doubt that would have changed much, if she knew that you belonged to someone.”

He took a step closer, his eyes searching yours, filled with a regret that almost made your heart ache. His voice, usually so steady, trembled with sincerity. "Please, let’s talk about this. I can make this right."

The words hung in the air, heavy and bittersweet. You wanted to believe him, to let those words soothe the rawness inside you. But they felt too late, like a balm for wounds already too deep. You shook your head, the fight draining from your body as the weight of it all pressed down on you.

"You cheated on me. So brazenly." you whispered, your voice barely audible, laced with pain. "Just like he has. Just like every other man I’ve ever let into my life." The admission stung, the truth of it settling in your chest like a stone.

“Babe…..”

"Maybe you were just another number, another ex."

His face twisted in anguish, his hands clenching at his sides. "Babe, please, listen to me—"

“I’ve listened to you long enough.” Your voice was soft but firm, carrying the finality of a decision made. Tears blurred your vision, hot and relentless, streaking down your cheeks. “Just... leave your keys. I’m going. I can’t stand to look at you or stay with you here.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Toji's gaze faltered, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something more, to plead, to explain. But no words came. Slowly, he reached into his pocket, pulling out the keys that once symbolized shared moments, shared spaces, and placed them gently on the table.

“I’m sorry.” he said, his voice barely a whisper, a final echo of the love that had once been so vibrant between you.

You didn’t respond. There was nothing left to say. You turned, each step feeling heavier than the last as you walked away, leaving behind the remnants of a relationship that had once held so much promise. The door clicked shut behind you, the sound resonating like a chapter closing.

After that, he took all his stuff from your place and left. Even the keys. And you were glad he did. You were glad he wasn’t there. You blocked his number, you told your friends to stop relaying any messages from him he sent. You even cancelled any appearances with him for work, especially those for the Japanese leg of the press tour for Jujutsu Kaisen.

And then you disappeared, as though you didn’t exist.

You moved apartments, you didn’t tell anyone where you were. Only your manager knew, just so you could make it easier for her to pick you up for work schedules when you start doing them again. And changed phones and deleted your social media presence. You just wanted to be alone. You wanted to process the death of a seven year relationship.

Over half a year later, they start to see you again. The last they had seen you, you were still red-rimmed eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. You had explained that you dealt with some personal loss, which wasn’t untrue. People had speculations, they always have. But you didn’t want to admit to anything. You just let them have their fun and you let yourself have your grief.

The mirror had become a stranger for a while, reflecting someone you barely recognized, a shadow of the person you once were with Toji. The truest you had been yourself was with him. And now you have lost that. You had lost the version of yourself you had loved so dearly. And you hated how that too had revolved around him. Your most beloved life was him.

You hadn't planned on disappearing, not really. But each day felt heavier, each step harder to take, until retreating into the quiet solace of your loneliness and grief became the only thing you could manage.

And everyone in your agency was understanding of that. You haven’t truly taken a break in your entire career. And with that burn out, as much as the heartache, you had to have your time to yourself.

Little by little, you started to pick yourself up from the ruins of the failed relationship. Little by little you found yourself able to breathe again, even though you were still against the crashing waves of pain. At the very least there was some progress. At least you were getting somewhere.

Though, you couldn’t escape him. How could you, when he was so beloved by the world? Every corner of your world seemed to echo with the ghost of him. His face, smiling and confident, stared down at you from every billboard, a constant reminder of what you had lost years of your life to. Years you were the prettiest to yourself.

His voice filled the airwaves, every interview a cruel twist of fate, his laughter a haunting melody that played on repeat in your mind. Fushiguro Toji. His name was a bittersweet whisper, both a comfort and a curse, lingering in the recesses of your heart.

No one else knew that you had broken up. It was a secret you held close, it was a grief that belonged to you and only you. It was a wound too fresh and raw to expose to the world.

You hadn’t found the courage to say anything, convinced that speaking it aloud would make it all too real. Besides, you believed you didn’t have to explain yourself to anyone. Your pain was yours alone, a private storm that no one else could weather.

As you walked through the winding streets of Tokyo, the city lights blurred against your vision, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. The vibrant energy of the city felt distant, a stark contrast to the numbness that enveloped you. The world moved on, oblivious to the turmoil within you.

No one understood what you felt. No one probably ever would. It wasn’t just the loss of a relationship; it was the loss of a dream, a shared future that had unraveled before your eyes. The quiet moments, the laughter, the unspoken promises. They were all gone, leaving behind an emptiness that you didn’t know how to fill.

You kept walking, the sounds of the city fading into the background, your mind a whirlwind of memories and emotions. The ache in your chest was a constant reminder of what once was, and what could never be again. But even in the midst of the pain, you knew you couldn’t stay hidden forever. Life was waiting, and somehow, you had to find a way to live it again.

The door to your apartment closed behind you with a soft click, but the silence inside felt deafening. You slipped off your shoes and let your bag fall to the floor, the weight of the day pressing heavily on your shoulders. The familiar surroundings felt foreign now, as if the air itself had shifted, carrying the remnants of memories you weren’t ready to face.

You wandered through the small space, your eyes scanning the room aimlessly. You knew you should do something, anything to distract yourself. So you started cleaning, hoping the mundane task would occupy your mind. You wiped down the counters, straightened the cushions, and folded the laundry. But every movement felt mechanical, your thoughts drifting back to him.

Then you saw it—his jacket. Your mouth went agape at the sight of it. It hung innocuously by the door, just as it always had when he would visit your apartment. You didn’t know you still had it, from the move. You didn’t know the movers packed it too. He didn’t take it with him when he left the house.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. It was the same jacket he had worn countless times, the one that carried his scent, a mixture of cologne and something uniquely him. Without thinking, you reached out, your fingers grazing the fabric.

The moment you touched it, the floodgates opened. The tears came fast and uncontrollable, pouring down your face as you clutched the jacket to your chest. You sank to the floor, the weight of your sorrow too much to bear.

The scent of him enveloped you, bringing back a rush of memories. His arms around you, his laugh, the way he would kiss your forehead when you were feeling down.

You cried for everything you had lost. For the love you had poured into a man who could never fully be yours. A man older, with a life that always seemed just out of reach. A man who cherished his independence, who was never truly tethered to you in the way you had hoped. You had given him your prettiest years, the best of yourself, only to be left with the pieces of a broken heart.

Tomorrow was the shoot, and you knew you had to pull yourself together. The contract was signed long before the breakup, back when you thought working together would be another way to share your dreams, your passions, your lives. Now, it was the weight pulling you into a reality you weren’t ready to face.

Tonight, the pain was too fresh, too overwhelming. How could you stop crying when every corner of your life was a reminder of him? When his presence still lingered in the smallest things, like a ghost haunting the spaces you once shared?

You stayed there, curled on the floor, clutching the jacket as the tears continued to fall. It wasn’t just about losing him. It was about losing the future you had imagined, the dreams you had built together.

And as the night stretched on, you let yourself grieve, knowing that somehow, you had to find the strength to face tomorrow. But for now, all you could do was cry.

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MORNING ALWAYS DOES COME. And when it does, you try to make the effort to still stand on your own two toes. When the morning came, exhausted and numb, there you were facing the inevitable.

You bowed to everyone, greeting them with as much enthusiasm as you could muster. You smiled as though there was no problem at all. Chattered and sat there on the make–up chair like nothing had happened. As if there was nothing at all that shattered you to nothing.

The studio lights felt harsher than you remembered, their unforgiving brightness illuminating every inch of the set—and every crack in your heart. It was as if they knew, as if they were exposing the rawness inside you, the pain you had tried so hard to bury. The bustling crew moved around you, adjusting cameras, checking props, but their chatter seemed distant, muffled by the storm in your mind.

You couldn’t help but feel nervous, your hands trembling ever so slightly. It felt strange, almost surreal, like this was your first time stepping in front of the camera. You had done this a hundred times before, but today was different.

Today, you were a different person. The warmth of reassurance that once came from a simple touch, his hand brushing against yours, his quiet, steady presence—was gone. You were on your own now, and the weight of that reality pressed down on you like a heavy cloak.

You swallowed hard, the bile rising in your throat as the familiar sting of tears threatened to break free. Your muscles tensed, contorting as you fought the overwhelming urge to let go, to release the tears that had been building up inside you. But you didn’t. You wouldn’t. You couldn’t let yourself fall apart here, not now.

Not now, you repeat to yourself, a mantra you clung to with every ounce of strength you had left. You didn’t want it. You didn’t want the tears, the loneliness, the pain. You didn’t need it. You had told yourself this over and over again. You didn’t need to feel this, not here, not under the glaring scrutiny of the studio lights and the watchful eyes of everyone around you.

Your breaths came in shallow, shaky gulps as you forced yourself to focus, to channel everything into the character you were about to portray. The lines blurred between the role you played and the person you were, but you clung to that thin line of separation, hoping it would hold. This was your sanctuary, your escape. If you could just hold on a little longer, maybe the pain wouldn’t consume you.

You could do this, you told yourself.

You could survive this, you know you could.

It’s only for a few weeks of this misery.

But as you lifted your eyes, you saw him again.

And all that resolve dissolved almost instantly.

Fushiguro Toji stood across the room, talking to the director, his usual charm evident in the way his shoulders shook with laughter. The sound of it, rich and familiar, carried across the set, drawing the attention of those nearby. He looked relaxed, his posture loose, his smile easy. He seemed to be in happy spirits, more than the last time you saw him.

It was a sharp contrast to the last memory you had of him—tense, conflicted, the weight of your shared history etched into every line of his face. But now, he seemed lighter, as if the burden of your breakup had lifted from his shoulders. The sight of him like this stirred a mix of emotions within you. Jealousy, sadness, and an aching longing you tried to suppress.

You watched from a distance, your gaze lingering longer than you intended. It was painful, seeing him so carefree, as if nothing had changed, as if the past weeks hadn’t unraveled you both. But there he was, moving through the room with an ease that seemed effortless, while you struggled to keep your composure.

The director clapped him on the back, and Toji’s laugh echoed again, brighter this time. You quickly averted your eyes, pretending to busy yourself with your script, but the image of him remained imprinted in your mind. It was harder than you thought it would be, being in the same space, breathing the same air, while feeling worlds apart.

For a moment, you wondered if he had truly moved on, or if this was just a façade, a mask to hide whatever he might still be feeling. But you pushed the thought away. It didn’t matter. What mattered now was surviving this day, this scene, and the countless others that would follow. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the inevitable interaction. You had to face him eventually.

The director’s voice cut through the low hum of the studio, calling for everyone to take their places. “Alright, let’s get started! Everyone, introduce yourselves before we begin.”

You took a deep breath, forcing your shoulders to relax as you stepped forward with the rest of the cast. The weight of the moment pressed heavily on your chest, but you reminded yourself to stay calm, to keep it together.

Your eyes, however, betrayed you, flickering towards Toji for the briefest second before you snapped them away, focusing instead on a point somewhere beyond him. You were a professional. You had done this countless times before. You had been through worse—or so you told yourself. You could do this. You had to do this.

As the introductions began, your turn loomed closer. Each name and face passed by in a blur until the spotlight shifted to you. You bowed to each and every one, smiling at them as best you could even though you couldn’t process it all just yet.

“Hello, nice to meet you all!” you said, introducing yourself. Your voice is steady despite the storm within. “It’s great to be working with everyone.”

Your words were polite, professional, and utterly detached. At least you notice it. But the others didn’t seem to. You could see the blur in all their smiles towards you, shining in a way you couldn’t recognize. You barely registered the murmured responses of the others, your focus pinned on keeping your composure. Then it was Toji’s turn.

He stepped forward, his presence commanding as always. “Fushiguro Toji.” he said, his voice carrying effortlessly across the room. There was a familiar warmth in his tone, one that made your heart clench. “Looking forward to working with all of you.”

His blue–green eyes flicked to you, just for a moment, but it was enough to send a ripple of tension through your body. You held his gaze for a heartbeat longer than you intended, before quickly looking away, pretending to be engrossed in the script in your hands.

The director clapped his hands together, breaking the moment. “Alright, let’s dive into it! Remember, the first scene is a heavy scene, so take your time and feel it out. Call for a cut any time you want to. So let’s start, like we rehearsed.”

You nodded at the director. Everyone moved to their places, and you found yourself standing just a few feet away from Toji. The air between you felt charged, the unspoken history hanging like a shadow over the set. He glanced at you, his expression unreadable.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice softer now, almost cautious.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. “Yeah.” you murmured, your eyes fixed on the floor.

Toji hesitated for a moment, as if he wanted to say more, but the director called for action, and just like that, you were thrust into the scene. The lines between fiction and reality blurred once again, and all you could do was hold on and hope you made it through without falling apart.

As the cameras rolled and the scene began, you pushed everything else aside, locking the pain away in a corner of your heart. The studio lights continued to shine, harsh and unrelenting, but you stood your ground. You didn’t need your tears. You didn’t need your loneliness. All you needed was to make it through this moment. And somehow, you would.

The first scene couldn’t have been more ironic if the universe had written it itself. A husband and wife, embroiled in a bitter argument, their marriage on the brink of collapse. Every word in the script seemed like a cruel reflection of your own reality. The dialogue cut too close, each line a dagger, the emotions too raw to ignore.

You had told yourself you could handle it, that you could compartmentalize the character’s turmoil from your own. But as the words spilled from your lips, it felt as if the character had seized control of your body, dragging all your buried feelings to the surface, laying them bare for everyone to see.

“Why don’t you ever listen to me?” you shouted, your voice cracking with the weight of suppressed emotion. The accusation wasn’t just a line; it was a scream from your heart. “You’re always so wrapped up in your own world! What about us? What about me?”

The tears that pricked your eyes weren’t from the script. They were your own, threatening to fall, the pain of the breakup echoing in every syllable. Across from you, Toji’s eyes darkened, his expression hardening as he stepped into his character. His voice, sharp and filled with a familiar bitterness, mirrored your own anguish.

“Don’t act like I’m the only one who made mistakes!” he shot back, his tone rising, the frustration palpable. “You think it’s easy, carrying the weight of everything? Maybe if you tried to understand instead of blame—”

“Understand?” you interrupted, your voice trembling with the effort to hold back tears. The sting in your eyes blurred your vision, but you pressed on. “I’ve tried! I’ve given everything, and it’s never enough for you!”

The room felt electric, the tension between you both so thick it was as if the air itself might shatter under the weight of it. Each word hung in the air, resonating with a truth neither of you could ignore.

The director’s voice called out, “Cut! Let’s take a moment.”

The tension didn’t dissipate with the end of the scene. It lingered, heavy and suffocating, as if the raw emotions couldn’t be contained by the simple call for a break. You stood there, your chest heaving with the effort of keeping your tears at bay, your hands clenched into fists at your sides.

Toji remained across from you, his jaw tight, his eyes still locked onto yours. For a moment, neither of you moved, as if frozen in the aftermath of the words that had been exchanged—not just between the characters, but between the two of you.

You stood frozen, your chest heaving as the emotions coursed through you. Toji turned to face you, his expression unreadable. You saw him take a step toward you, and panic clawed at your chest, but you forced yourself to stay put. Running away wouldn’t solve anything. You had to face this, face him.

“Hey.” Toji said softly, his voice gentler than it had been during the scene. “Are you okay?”

You swallowed hard, nodding even though your body betrayed you with a slight tremble. “Yeah. Just… caught me off guard, that’s all.”

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to gauge how much of the scene was acting and how much was real. “It felt real.” he admitted, his tone cautious. “Too real.”

“Yeah.” You murmured, not looking at him. You didn’t want to. You didn’t know if you were prepared to just yet.

The tension between you and Toji was palpable, thick like fog, clouding every inch of the set. You stood there, heart pounding, as the reality of the situation settled deeper into your bones. This was not just a fleeting moment; this was going to be every day, side by side, pretending like everything was fine when it was far from it.

Toji shifted on his feet, his usual confidence seemingly faltering as he took in your guarded expression. “I didn’t think you’d come today.” he admitted, his voice lower, more vulnerable than you remembered. “Thought you’d call in sick.”

“I didn’t have much of a choice. I have a job to do.” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “Besides….you showed up too.”

Silence befell the two of you after those words. You started fidgeting with your fingers, something you would do when you were nervous. As you feel your throat closed up, you purse your lips into a flat line. You thought it was time to walk away, to take your time away from him before the next take.

Finally, Toji broke the silence, stepping closer, his voice lower but no less intense. “It was just acting.” he said, his tone softer, almost vulnerable. “I’m sorry for my tone.”

You swallowed hard, your throat constricting. “So was I.” You whispered, your voice barely audible.

The tears you had been holding back now threatened to spill over, but you refused to let them fall. Not here. Not in front of him. Toji’s gaze grew softer as he looked at you, the anger from the take earlier melting into something more akin to sorrow. Something you think you were more familiar with.

“I didn’t want things to end that way.” He admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Can we not talk about it—”

“But I want to.” He tells you in his retort, abruptly cutting you off. “I need to. I want to fix everything.”

“You can’t fix everything. You should know that.” you replied, your words trembling as they left your lips. “I don’t know if I can ever forget that.”

He nodded slowly, his expression one of deep regret. “I know.”

Silence grew once more between the two of you.

You could feel the tears pricking your eyes harshly.

And you could tell that he was noticing as much as you.

He nodded slowly, his gaze dropping to the floor before meeting yours again. “I’m glad you’re here….at least.” he said quietly, sincerity lacing his words. “I know it’s hard, but maybe… maybe we can find a way to make this work.”

You almost laughed, the irony of it all hitting you. “Make this work?” you repeated, your voice tinged with disbelief. “You mean like how we were supposed to make us work?”

Toji winced, the pain in your words cutting through him. “I didn’t mean it like that, you know that.” he said softly. “Look, I….I know I hurt you. I know things didn’t go the way we wanted. But this project… it’s important to both of us. Can we at least try to be civil? For the sake of the work?”

You bit your lip, torn between the urge to lash out and the need to maintain some semblance of professionalism. “Civil.” you echoed, testing the word on your tongue. “I guess we can try.”

He offered a small, hesitant smile. “Thank you.”

A tense silence settled again before he spoke once more. “Look, I don’t want to make things harder than they already are. If you need space, I’ll give it to you. Just... don’t shut me out completely.”

Your heart ached at his words, but you forced yourself to stay composed. “Space would be good.” you agreed, your voice firmer now. “Let’s just focus on the work. That’s all we need to do.”

Toji nodded, accepting your terms. “Okay. Work it is.”

The director called for everyone to reset for the next take, but the two of you remained locked in place, the world around you fading into the background. It was a moment of unspoken understanding, a shared pain that neither of you could fully articulate. As the crew moved around you, preparing for the next shot, Toji took a step back, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer.

“Let’s get through this.” he said quietly, his voice carrying a weight that spoke of more than just the scene ahead. “We owe it to ourselves.”

You nodded, unable to speak, and turned away. Your assistant handed you the script once again and you found yourself trying to focus on the script in your hands. The show had to go on, but the lines between fiction and reality had never felt so blurred.

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, a mix of relief and sorrow washing over you. This was your new reality. It probably always will, when people like your chemistry together.

You are going to be stuck working side by side with the man who broke your heart. But as you watched him go, you realized something: you weren’t the same person you were before. You had been broken, yes, but you were also stronger now.

You knew that. And maybe, just maybe, that strength would see you through this. You took a deep breath, squaring your shoulders. The day had only just begun. But you were praying that he doesn’t look at you with that look in his eyes again.

══════════════════

DAYS ON SET BECAME A NEW STANDARD OF LIVING. You haven’t been sure you were used to it yet after a long time away, but you were sure about to get there. At least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself.

As the days turned into weeks, the rhythm of the shoot became oddly familiar. Early morning calls, practice for heavy scenes, dress rehearsal, the chaos of set preparation, and the god awful long night to morning shoots.

This was the relentless cycle of takes transformed into your new daily standard routine. You and Toji fell into an unspoken pattern between the two of you, though. But you had to be, if you wanted to keep your jobs. It was a strange thing to witness, if one was being honest. It took a lot of effort to memorize the dance. And every bit of that was equal parts effortless and exhausting.

On the surface, you were professionals—co-workers delivering lines, executing roles, keeping up appearances. Especially him, he was your senpai too. He was good at maintaining that mask on him more than you were.

But beneath the polished veneer, tension simmered, weaving itself into every glance, every exchange, every shared silence. You could tell just by looking at his eyes. No one else but you could do that, after all.

The studio became your shared battlefield, its walls echoing with unspoken words. You threw yourself into the work, burying raw emotions beneath layers of performance day after day.

But when the director yelled for the cut, you knew that the veil dropped most instantaneously. And that always leaves you vulnerable to the presence of the man who had once been your everything.

Fushiguro Toji was close enough to touch yet felt a world away from you. And you were certain that he felt the same way about you too. After all, you had a wall he couldn’t reach. You wouldn’t let him reach it. There was no way for him to know what to do with you.

But this doesn’t stop you from looking. Nor did it stop him from doing the same thing. You had noticed everything about him and what he does. It was obvious how hard it is to be exes on set. It was even harder when you were soulmates.

There was the slight hesitation in his laugh, the way his smile sometimes faltered at the edges. He was both familiar and foreign, a stranger wearing a face you had loved. Everything about him was something you knew and everything about him was something that was a mystery. It was a really intriguing thing. And that was the worst thing of all. You were intrigued about the man you loved and hated all at once.

Conversations were sparse at first, clinical and focused on the work. You both clung to professionalism like a lifeline, avoiding anything that might hint at the depth of your shared history. The lines were clear: scenes, blocking, timing, delivery. Anything beyond that was dangerous territory.

You were determined to keep things professional, to relegate your relationship to the sterile confines of work. But no matter how hard you tried, the walls you’d built between yourselves began to splinter under the weight of the unspoken.

The first crack came during a late-night shoot. The two of you stood under the harsh glow of the heavy set lights, running through lines while the crew adjusted the framing. Toji, leaning casually against a prop table, smirked at a mistake you made while stumbling over a particularly convoluted line.

“That’s the third time now.” he said, his voice low enough that only you could hear. There was a teasing edge to it, but it was softer than you remembered.

You shot him a sharp look. “Thanks for keeping count.” you replied, your tone clipped, though your lips twitched against your will.

His smirk widened, but there was no malice in it, just a faint warmth. “You’re welcome. I thought I’d help out since you seem… preoccupied.”

You rolled your eyes, brushing him off. “Preoccupied with carrying this scene, maybe.”

The banter was fleeting, but it lingered in the air long after the cameras rolled again. Once again, you did the best you could and continued to bring your spirits up. As the night progressed, the director started to feel a little bit more satisfied with one or two shots. And that had at least allowed you the hope of going to sleep soon.

Later, during one of the scene changes, you caught him watching you as you adjusted your new costume. He didn’t look away quickly enough, and your eyes met. For a moment, the distance between you felt less insurmountable, the years of hurt and silence shrinking into the space of a single glance. That glance was the longest moment of your life, you were sure.

“What?” you asked, a touch defensive, your voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitated, as if debating whether to respond, then shrugged. “Nothing. You just… remind me of something.”

You wanted to press him, to ask what he meant, but the vulnerability in his expression stopped you. His eyes, usually so guarded, were uncharacteristically soft, as if he was on the verge of saying something he couldn’t quite bring himself to voice.

Instead of pushing, you turned back to the mirror, pretending not to notice the way his gaze lingered, tracing the reflection of your face as though searching for something. It was recognition, understanding, forgiveness.

But then you caught yourself. The silence was becoming unbearable, the air between you thick with things neither of you dared to say. You cleared your throat, the sound breaking the tension like a sharp crack in the stillness.

“We should start rehearsing.” you said, your voice steady, though your heart was racing. “For the scene.”

For a moment, Toji didn’t respond. He seemed to weigh your words, as though deciding whether to challenge the sudden shift or let it go. Finally, he tilted his head slightly, his brow furrowing in quiet disbelief.

“...Are you comfortable doing that with me?” he asked, his tone careful, hesitant. It wasn’t the confident Toji you remembered, the one who always seemed so sure of himself, even when everything around him was chaotic. This was different—softer, almost unsure.

You hesitated, the question throwing you off balance. There was a part of you that wanted to lash out, to let him know how much his presence still affected you, how rehearsing with him wasn’t just work. But you swallowed it down, forcing yourself to focus on the here and now.

“Yeah, why not?” you replied, shrugging as though it didn’t matter. Your tone was light, almost dismissive, but the tension in your voice betrayed you.

Toji’s lips twitched, not quite a smile but not entirely neutral either. “Why not, huh….” he echoed softly, more to himself than to you. He took a step closer, crossing into your personal space but stopping just short of overstepping.

“Okay.” he said finally, his voice steady now, though his eyes still carried that flicker of something unresolved. “Let’s rehearse.”

You nodded, turning away from the mirror and moving toward the small table where the script sat. You busied yourself with flipping through the pages, anything to avoid looking at him directly. But you knew, you could feel it — he was looking at you and only you.

As you both settled into the familiar rhythm of line-reading, the tension between you didn’t fade entirely, but it softened, shaped by the shared focus on the work. There were moments, brief but poignant, where you caught glimpses of the man you had once known in the way he delivered a line or the way he watched you deliver yours.

Yet you knew when you said these things, you knew it would be bad. You knew they would hit too close to home, too personal. And that was what happened. When the two of you were finally shooting the emotional scene, it was more real than your practice and perhaps, that’s what fueled your acting.

The dialogue was heavy, charged with the kind of raw emotion that mirrored your real-life tension a little too closely. It was a confrontation scene this time around—a breaking point between two lovers teetering on the edge of collapse. As you delivered the lines you had practiced, the words felt too personal, too sharp, cutting into wounds that hadn’t fully healed. And you hated it.

“That’s all you ever do, isn’t it?” your character accused, the anger in your voice reverberating through the silent set. “You push people away the second they get too close. You think it’s easier to walk away than to face what you’ve done.”

The silence that followed was deafening. You could feel every pair of eyes in the room on you, the weight of the moment pressing down like a vice. But your focus was on Toji.

He stood across from you, his character’s guilt written across his face, but there was something else there—something unspoken that made your chest tighten. Somehow, it was his real face. Somehow, it was his truest blossom of regret.

The director called for a break, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. The crew scattered, murmuring amongst themselves, but the energy in the room remained electric, charged with the kind of intensity that couldn’t simply be switched off.

You turned away quickly, grabbing a water bottle from the craft table. Your hands were trembling slightly, your pulse still racing. You focused on the coolness of the bottle against your skin, anything to ground yourself, to pull you out of the emotional spiral the scene had sent you into.

“You okay?” Toji’s voice came from behind you, quiet but insistent.

You stiffened, refusing to turn around. “I’m fine. Just… in the scene.”

“Right.” he said, but there was a note of skepticism in his voice. “You sure that’s all it is?”

Something in his tone made you snap. You spun around to face him, your eyes blazing. “Why? Do you think I’m talking about you?”

Toji’s jaw tightened, his posture rigid. For a moment, his mask of calm slipped, and the vulnerability beneath it was laid bare. “I don’t know.” he said, his voice low and even. “Are you?”

The question hung between you, the weight of it almost unbearable. His gaze locked onto yours, unflinching, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to blur, leaving just the two of you standing there, raw and exposed.

“What if I was?” you shot back, your voice quieter now, but no less sharp. “Would it even matter?”

His lips parted as if to respond, but no words came. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, neither of you willing to back down, yet both too afraid to fully engage. Before either of you could break the impasse, a crew member approached, clipboard in hand.

“We’re resetting for the next take.” they announced, oblivious to the charged atmosphere. “Five minutes.”

You tore your gaze away from Toji, nodding curtly at the crew member and quietly thanked them before turning on your heel and walking away. Your footsteps echoed in the cavernous studio, each one feeling heavier than the last.

As you retreated to the corner of the set, you could feel Toji’s eyes on you, his presence lingering like a ghost. Even as the crew busied themselves with preparations and the director barked instructions, the tension between you remained, an invisible thread pulling tauter with every passing moment.

You leaned against a prop, exhaling shakily, trying to center yourself. The scene was over, but the emotions it had stirred up were still thrumming through your veins. And as much as you tried to tell yourself otherwise, you knew this wasn’t just about the script. This was about the two of you—about all the things you’d left unsaid and all the wounds that still refused to heal.

══════════════════

YOU HADN’T READ THE NEXT PART OF THE SCRIPT YET. You had been too emotionally exhausted about what you had been doing for work that you had put off reading the script. Which was fine, you were able to memorize things easily when you see it long enough. That’s why you have this sort of career in the first place.

So the next morning, you arrived on set early with your manager. You greeted everyone as you were clutching your script tightly in your hands. Your manager quickly greeted everyone and went to you, before telling you that he’ll get you both coffee from the coffee truck. You nodded at her, telling her that you’ll just be sitting on the trailer.

It had become a habit, one you told yourself was about preparation — ‘it will work out’; but deep down you knew it was also a way to mentally brace yourself for whatever the day might bring. You have told yourself that phrase for years now, but perhaps, it didn’t hit as hard as it has now. Much more because you were working with the man you were in a relationship with for quite a lot of years.

Working with Fushiguro Toji was a constant balancing act, teetering on the edge of professionalism and the unresolved tension that hung between you like a storm cloud storming away with its raging thunder and its hurling battering rains. That was just what it was, when you were working with someone you still had unresolved issues with.

You settled into your usual corner, flipping through the script for the day’s scenes. You moved to take the pen from your bag, and started highlighting things you wanted to work on and things you wanted to ask for feedback from the director. As you skimmed the pages, your eyes caught on a block of stage directions that made your stomach drop. A part you hadn’t seen just yet.

Hiruka steps closer to Suzaku, their faces just barely inches apart. The tension between them is palpable, one that pushes them together like gravity and after a beat, they kiss.

Your mouth went agape at what you had just read. This was not what you expected. You clutched your heart, feeling how it skipped a beat. For a moment, you just stared at the words, as if doing so would somehow make them disappear. But they didn’t. The scene was there, in black and white, unavoidable.

"Everything okay?" a voice broke through your thoughts. One of the assistant directors, passing by with a clipboard, glanced at you with mild concern.

You forced a smile, nodding. “Yeah. Just going over the script.”

She nodded, already distracted by another crew member waving her down, and you exhaled slowly, your mind racing. You haven't kissed Toji since… well, since before everything had fallen apart.

The idea of doing it now, even in character, felt like reopening a wound you’d barely managed to scab over. Even though it had been six, seven months since the breakup, the thought still wasn’t something you had gotten used to. The memories of what had been lingered like a ghost, haunting the edges of your mind whenever you let your guard down.

But then again, no one knew you were dating. To everyone else, you were just friends. Friends and co-workers. That was the story they had always known, the one you had carefully curated and protected. It wasn’t their fault—they didn’t see the quiet moments shared off-set, the way his hand used to linger on yours, the stolen kisses behind closed doors, the whispered promises of something that had felt so certain at the time.

You… you weren’t ready to tell anyone. The idea of opening up that part of your life to the world had felt too vulnerable, too risky. So you had kept it quiet, only sharing the truth with a handful of people you trusted—close friends who had sworn to keep your secret. Back then, it had felt like the right choice, like something sacred and yours to guard.

Now, though, it felt like a double-edged sword. No one on set knew about the history between you and Toji, which meant no one understood how charged this scene truly was. They didn’t know how much it would take to get through it without letting the weight of the past seep into every glance, every word, every touch. To them, it was just another part of the job.

But to you? To you, it was a reckoning.

You rubbed your temples, trying to shake the thought away, but it clung to you stubbornly. You were here to work, to act, to tell a story. You had gotten through every other scene with Toji, no matter how tense or emotionally taxing it had been. You could get through this one too.

Couldn’t you?

Your internal spiral was interrupted when Fushiguro Toji walked onto the set, his usual calm demeanor in place. He spotted you almost immediately and gave a slight nod in greeting, but his expression shifted when he noticed the look on your face.

“Something wrong?” he asked as he approached, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You hesitated, holding up the script instead of answering. “Have you read today’s scenes?”

He frowned slightly, taking the script from your hand and flipping through it. You watched his blue–green eyes scan the page one after another, his expression shifting from neutral to surprised and then to something you couldn’t quite place.

“Oh.” he said simply, his voice unreadable.

“Yeah.” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest. “Oh.”

Toji closed the script, handing it back to you. “Well….” he began, his tone measured. “It’s part of the job, right?”

His casual response made your irritation flare. “Don’t act like this is nothing.” you shot back, keeping your voice low but firm. “You know it’s not. Not with us.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not saying it’s nothing. I’m saying we’ve done this before. We’re professionals for a reason. We’ll handle it.”

The word professionals felt like a jab, as if he was reminding you that whatever was between you didn’t matter anymore. You opened your mouth to argue but stopped yourself, biting back the words. Instead, you took a step back, putting more space between you.

“I just... wasn’t expecting it.” you admitted, your voice softer now. “I guess I should do more reading on the script before I say yes. But then again, we were together before this. I would have thought differently if we were….”

You stopped yourself from saying anything. You sighed as you took the script back from him, not looking at him. You fumble through the script once again, stopping at where you were reading earlier. For a moment, Toji didn’t respond. He simply watched you, his expression unreadable. Then he nodded.

“Neither was I. But maybe it’s a good thing.”

You frowned. “How could this possibly be a good thing?”

“Because….” he said, his voice quiet but steady. “If we can get through this, we can get through anything else this job throws at us.”

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond to him whatsoever. There was a sincerity in his tone that caught you off guard, a reminder of the man you used to know, a man you once loved—the one who could somehow say the exact thing you needed to hear, even when you didn’t want to hear it.

“Let’s just get it over with.” you muttered finally, turning away to avoid meeting his gaze. You hoped the words would end the conversation, but Toji, ever persistent, wasn’t ready to let it drop. “As soon as possible.”

“Are we going to rehearse—”

“We are not going to rehearse kissing.” you interrupted sharply, spinning back toward him with a pointed glare before he could finish the thought.

He blinked, momentarily startled by your tone, then raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender. “Okay, okay. No rehearsing. he said, his voice calm but edged with a hint of amusement. “I wasn’t going to push it.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, still skeptical. “I mean it. We know how to kiss for work. It’s technical, not personal. We’ll hit our marks, make it look convincing, and that’s it.”

“Got it.” he replied, his tone unreadable. But the faint twitch of a smirk at the corner of his mouth betrayed him, and it made your chest tighten with a mix of irritation and something far more complicated.

“I’m serious, Toji.” you added, folding your arms across your chest. “This doesn’t have to be a thing. Let’s just focus on the scene and move on.”

He tilted his head, his gaze softening just slightly. “I know. I’m not trying to make it a thing, I promise.” he said quietly. “But it’s not like we can pretend it doesn’t feel... different.”

You froze, his words hitting you harder than you expected. Different. Of course, it felt different. How could it not? You had kissed him before, really kissed him. Many countless times in another life, when things had been simpler, when you weren’t standing on opposite sides of an invisible wall you’d both helped build.

But you couldn’t let yourself dwell on that now. Shaking your head, you turned back toward the set. “It doesn’t matter.” you said, more to yourself than to him. “It’s just a scene, Toji. That’s all it is.”

You didn’t wait for his response as you walked away, but you felt the weight of his gaze on your back, heavy and lingering. And as much as you tried to push it down, you couldn’t shake the sense that, for Toji, it might not be just a scene after all. You looked for your manager.

You needed to get that coffee from her as soon as possible.

And perhaps, a donut. You need enough sugar to get through the day.

And so you let hours pass by, trying to get the idea of the kiss off your mind. You were not going to think about it until you had to. That’s what you tell yourself. But you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

How will it happen? How will you end up lasting with how he would touch you? How could you keep this professional? You shook your head. You hated how much you were getting too into this.

When you finally make it off to set once again, you find yourself overwhelmed already. After going through the worst of thoughts while on the makeup chair, you couldn’t help but feel even worse here.

The set was quiet as the crew adjusted the lights and cameras for the upcoming scene. You stood off to the side, arms crossed, your script clutched tightly in one hand. The weight of what was about to happen pressed on you like a physical force, making it hard to breathe.

Toji was across the room, leaning casually against a prop table as the makeup artist gave him a last touch-up. He looked calm. Too calm, like this was just another day, another scene. Like there was nothing to freak out about. It irritated you. How could he be so composed when every nerve in your body felt like it was on edge?

Soon enough, the director called for everyone to take their places. You moved to your mark, heart pounding. Fushiguro Toji approached, his steps measured, his expression unreadable. The tension between you thickened as the cameras rolled into position, and the director gave the signal to begin.

The scene started smoothly enough. The dialogue flowed naturally, your voices blending together in a rhythm you had mastered over weeks of working together. But as the emotional intensity of the scene built, you felt the lines between acting and reality begin to blur.

“That’s all you ever do, isn’t it?” you said, your voice trembling with both your character’s anger and something far more personal. “You push people away the second they get too close. You think it’s easier to walk away than to face what you’ve done.”

Toji stepped closer, his character’s frustration mirroring something unspoken in his own eyes. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” he shot back, his voice low, dangerous. “You don’t know what it’s like to carry this kind of weight.”

“I don’t know?” you snapped, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “Don’t you dare tell me I don’t know, because I was there. I was always there.”

The director hadn’t called the cut, so you kept going, even though your hands were trembling and your breath was coming faster than it should have been. Toji’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought he might break character. But then he stepped even closer, closing the gap between you.

And then it happened as naturally as breathing —the kiss.

It started the way it was supposed to, his hands lightly brushing against your arms as he leaned in, his lips meeting yours with the perfect mix of tension and tenderness. But as the seconds ticked by, something shifted. The scene was supposed to end with a brief, restrained kiss. I twas just enough to convey the characters’ unresolved feelings. But Toji didn’t pull back, and neither did you.

Instead, the kiss deepened even more, the intensity between you igniting like a spark meeting gasoline. Fire blossoming in the spark of that gasoline, over and over as you both push and pull.

His hand moved to cup the side of your face, his thumb brushing your cheek in a way that felt far too familiar, far too real. Your hands, which were meant to stay at your sides, found their way to his chest, clutching the fabric of his shirt as if you were anchoring yourself to him.

The room around you faded from your reality. The set, the cameras, the crew—it all disappeared as the kiss pulled you under, dredging up emotions you thought you’d buried. Pain, longing, regret. All of it crashed over you in an overwhelming wave, pushing and pulling you towards him.

“Cut!” the director finally called, his voice sharp enough to break through the haze.

You and Toji finally let loose and separated abruptly, both of you breathing hard. The room was silent except for the faint hum of the equipment and the muffled sounds of crew members shuffling around. No one said anything, but the charged atmosphere was impossible to ignore.

The director, who had been watching the monitors intently, clapped his hands together. “That was… intense.” he said, nodding approvingly. “Let’s reset and do one more take.”

You couldn’t meet anyone’s gaze, least of all Toji’s, as you stepped back to your mark. Your lips still tingled, and your heart felt like it was trying to beat its way out of your chest. As the crew moved around you, resetting for the next take,

Toji leaned in close, his voice low so only you could hear. “You okay?”

You nodded stiffly, refusing to look at him. “I’m fine.”

But you weren’t. And as you prepared to shoot the scene again, you couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever had just happened wasn’t just acting—it was something far more dangerous. Many things were pushing through your mind over and over again. Things you shouldn’t think about. People you shouldn’t think about.

You touch your lips, before stopping and closing your eyes to take a breath. Toji was still looking at you, as though trying to make sure you were alright. But you couldn’t be coherent, you couldn’t think straight. Not when his lips tasted like forbidden fruit, from paradise, from heaven.

The moment the director called for another take, you felt your chest constrict. You couldn’t do it again—not right away, not with how raw everything felt. Your hands were trembling, your head spinning, and your heart still hadn’t slowed from the intensity of the scene—or the kiss.

“I need a break, director.” you muttered, barely audible, before turning and walking off set without waiting for a response. “Please….I…”

You started to move before you could register it. You ignored the crew members and assistants milling about, their curious glances following you as you navigated through the maze of equipment and props.

You didn’t stop until you found a quiet corner near the back of the lot, where the noise of the set faded into a distant hum. Leaning against a wall, you exhaled shakily, pressing your hands against your temples as you tried to steady yourself.

You didn’t hear him approach, but you felt his presence before he spoke.

“Hey.” Toji’s voice was soft but steady, cutting through the silence.

You stiffened, not turning around. “I just need a minute.”

“I know that.” he replied, his tone careful, as though he were trying not to spook you. “I just… wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

You scoffed, your laugh bitter and hollow. “Why do you care if I’m okay?”

His footsteps grew closer until he was standing just a few feet away. “Because I do.” he said simply. “I always have. You know that.”

You spun around to face him, your frustration bubbling over. “You don’t get to do that, Toji. You don’t get to pretend like everything’s fine, like you care, after everything—”

“I’m not pretending!” he interrupted, his voice rising just enough to cut you off. His jaw was tight, his expression pained. “You think this is easy for me? You think I wanted any of this to happen?”

“You walked away, Toji.” you shot back, your voice shaking. “You made your choice. And now you’re acting like—like—”

“Like what?” he challenged, stepping closer. “Like I regret it? Because I do. I regret everything, alright? But I can’t change the past. I can’t undo what I did. All I can do is try to…” He trailed off, his fists clenching at his sides.

“Try to do what?” you demanded, your own anger simmering beneath the surface. “Make yourself feel better? Redeem yourself? Because that’s not how it works, Toji. You don’t just get to show up and act like we can fix this with one stupid kiss!”

“That’s not what I’m trying to do.” he said, his voice softening, though the intensity in his eyes didn’t waver. “I just… I miss you.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. You wanted to look away from him, but you can’t. How could you, when he was looking at you like that? Like he still sees you to be the only one for him. Like he still loves you most in this world.

“Toji…” you started, but your voice cracked, and you couldn’t finish the sentence.

His gaze flicked to your lips, then back to your eyes, his expression torn. “Tell me to stop.” he murmured, taking another step forward. “If you don’t want this, just say the word, and I’ll walk away.”

You wanted to say it. No, you wanted to scream at him. You wanted to push him away and shove him and be angry with him, to tell him that you were done, that the past was the past and there was no going back. That you do not love him anymore. But the words wouldn’t come.

Instead, when he closed the distance between you, cupping your face with his hands, you didn’t pull away. His lips found yours, and the kiss was nothing like the one on set. It was desperate and unguarded, filled with all the things neither of you had been able to say.

Your hands clung to the fabric of his shirt, almost as if you needed the physical contact to ground yourself. The kiss deepened as your body pressed against his, the tension between you both crackling in the space that had once been filled with affection and now was choked with pain and unresolved emotion. His lips were insistent, hungry in a way that told you just how long he had been holding this back. The rawness of it, the desperation, sent a shiver down your spine.

His hands moved to the back of your neck, his fingers curling into your hair as if he were afraid you’d slip away again. When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, both of you stood there, forehead to forehead, your breaths heavy and unsteady. The world around you was a distant blur, and all that mattered was the way his chest rose and fell against yours.

The silence was suffocating, yet neither of you moved to speak. You couldn’t find the words, couldn’t find the strength to pull away from him again. He, too, seemed frozen in the moment, as if this brief touch of something real had left him equally shaken. But then, before you could fully collect yourself, he pulled you even closer. His body heat, his scent, enveloping you in the tight space between you.

Your eyes met once more. This time, there was no confusion, no uncertainty. The vulnerability in his gaze mirrored your own, and for just a heartbeat, you both let the walls crumble just enough to see each other for what you were—people who had been broken, but still searching for something to hold on to.

And then, his lips were on yours again, more forceful this time, as though he couldn’t hold back any longer, as though the weight of everything between you was too much to bear in silence. You didn’t pull away. You couldn’t.

The emotions inside you were tangled, each one vying for dominance. Hurt, longing, anger, and something deeper. A desperate need to feel something other than the emptiness that had been haunting you both for months.

His hands slid lower, tracing the line of your back, and you gasped against his mouth as your body pressed into his more firmly. It felt dangerous, reckless, but in that moment, you didn’t care. There was something that felt like freedom in this chaotic, emotional storm that you both had been trying so hard to avoid.

But it wasn’t just about the kiss. It was about everything that led to this point. The unfinished conversations, the words you both kept swallowing, the feelings you couldn’t express. His lips softened against yours for just a moment before he pulled back slightly, his face inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin.

“I don’t know how to fix this.” he murmured, his voice rough, laden with frustration. "But I need you to know... I never stopped caring."

Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat ringing in your ears. You swallowed hard, blinking away the tears threatening to fall. "Then why did you leave?" you whispered, barely able to keep your voice steady.

His eyes darkened, his face tightening with regret. “Because I was scared,” he said, the words slow, deliberate. “I thought I could push it all down, but it just… it just made everything worse.”

You could feel his hands trembling against your back, his words raw with honesty. And for a moment, you let the weight of that honesty sink in.

“I don’t know what this is,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you fought the lump in your throat. “But I can’t pretend it doesn’t hurt.”

Toji’s thumb brushed over your cheek, and you could feel the conflict in him—he wanted to comfort you, to make things right, but you both knew there were no easy fixes, no simple words that could undo the damage done.

“I know,” he said softly, his voice full of sorrow. “I know, but I’ll be here. I’ll be here until you decide if you want to give me a chance to make it right.”

Your eyes fluttered closed as you rested your forehead against his, the exhaustion of the emotional rollercoaster threatening to overtake you. You weren’t sure what this meant, what the future held, but in that moment, you allowed yourself to feel it.

The rawness, the tension, the connection. The kiss wasn’t just a kiss—it was a fragile promise, a silent acknowledgment that, despite everything, there was still something worth fighting for between you.

But you both knew that this wasn’t the end. It was only the beginning of something uncertain, something that would require more than a kiss to fix. But for now, you didn’t need answers. You just needed this. This seesaw game.

The more you were on this seesaw, the more you got to him. The more he’s here with you, locked in this cage of your own toxic desires. His touch, his presence, and the understanding that, for the first time in a long while, maybe you weren’t as alone as you thought.

“This doesn’t change anything.” you whispered, though your voice lacked conviction.

“I know.” he said softly. “But it doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying.”

You closed your eyes, trying to block out the rush of emotions flooding through you, but it was no use. Whatever had just happened, whatever this was. It wasn’t over. And you weren’t sure if that terrified you or gave you hope. Because it means you were no better. Your resolve crumbled so easily. How could you, when it was him?

“We have to go back to the set.” You whispered to him.

“Let them wait.” He whispers back to you, his breath hot against you.

That’s how you ended up back in his trailer, under him just like you had been six months ago. You had all but abandoned everything outside the door. From your mic packs left on that corner wall a few meters away, to the costume clothes left on the fridges of the trailer door.

Your lips echoed loud moaning ripples that could embarrass you had you cared enough for it at that moment. But you didn’t. All you cared about was the pleasure of being underneath him, being choked by his figure pressed against you as you squirm over and over again with the breath you didn’t have against his firm grasp.

All you could do was wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to where the sweat and the drool mixed onto you over and over again. With every tug to pull him closer, you found yourself being pummeled with his member deeper over and over again — taking away the dry spell that had kept your resolve for the past six months.

You could feel him burn you inside, searing you whole with the sheer size of him, taking over every inch of your crevices as though it belonged there. As though all of you were made for all of him.

You couldn’t help but release another moan, feeling your insides close against him, as your inner thighs quivered against the side of his waist repeatedly. The force of his thrusts were so strong that you were sure the bed was going to break.

His fingerprints were being engraved against your thighs with the way he pushes against your flesh, keeping you intertwined in this vicious downfall with him. Toji couldn’t help but laugh as he pressed closer against your body, the build of his cock sliding through your tummy and he could feel it. He felt proud of it. No one knew how to make you feel this electrifying feeling of being alive the way he could. No one else. And you knew that too well.

Calluses started to form on your reddening skin, pelted with golden sweat as he pulled in and out of you with the speed of a thunderstrike. One moment he’s into the point you could feel him down your throat choking and the next, it felt like you were freed from the vestiges of being full of everything heavy, only to feel so empty that you long for him to choke you whole with his cock.

And he does. Repeatedly. Over and over again, until you are on the verge of tears you know you shed because of the pleasure you succumb to, to your shame. To your love, to your desires. To him. No, for him.

Because you knew, no one else can love you like this. No one else can make a mess of you like this. No one else can make you feel so whole and broken all at once that it breaks you into many pieces.

You found yourself clawing at his back, successive moans with your breaking tone sounding like music to his ears. He hums in acceptance of the pain, trying to keep his composure as your nails bring blood streaming down his back. You move slowly to bite his shoulder, deep and whole and raw. You find him grunting slowly at the pain of it. You dug so deep that you knew you also drew blood there too.

You find him accepting it knowing that this is your love. This is the love that you have for him. And it will never change anymore. You wanted to love him and love him to the point he hurts. You want him to hurt. You want him to cry. You want him to bleed. Because how dare he make love to you, knowing you didn’t want to be hurt by loving him?

“I hate you.” You cry to him, his blood metallic in your tongue. You cry again, in between your incoherent moans. “I hate you more than anything in the world.”

“I love you.” He whispers to you over and over again, digging deeper into you that he has carved a home in you. “I love you. More than anything. More than life itself.”

You cry at his words. Because you knew they were true. You knew that he does love you. And yet you don’t want to be with him. You don’t want to let him back in. But he is here, with you. He is you, in you. He was everything that encompasses you. He was your first love. He was your first everything. And you can’t take it back. You can’t unlove him, even for your own good. Not even if the heavens wanted you to.

Toji couldn’t help but snarl as he pushes deeper and deeper, his sound animalistic and raw. He was close. You know this too well, once he stops talking. He devotes himself to the task. He pushes through over and over, the beckoning of his thrusts growing more erratic as he nears his peak.

But you knew him too well. He never comes inside of you without making sure you get your fill first. His long fingers reach down to where you're joined, finding your clit and rubbing in tight circles that send jolts of electricity shooting up your spine.

“T–toji!” You cry out loud, arching deeper into his touch as the pleasure coiling on your belly echoing over and over. You could feel his fingers work you perfectly, expertly as he pushes through over and over as he pushes his masterful fingers and his thrusting hips. “I….I’m….I’m close!”

"That's it, baby. Come for me too." he coaxes, his voice a low rasp in your ear. "Let me feel this pretty pussy squeeze the cum out of me."

He only gets this way when he finds himself close, his words disappearing into the reality of pleasure with you. You push against him, throwing your head back against the pillows. You shatter with a keening moan, your walls clamping down around Toji’s shaft as ecstasy crashes over you in waves.

He follows moments later with a guttural groan, pumping you full of his hot seed. You were shaking as you cling to him tightly, mewling softly against his shoulder blades. You could feel his body heavier against you as you both rode out the aftershocks, still gasping and twitching with the intensity of your shared climax.

As the fog of passion clears, you slowly come back to yourself, awareness returning in increments. You purse your lips as he presses kisses against your neck and then your jaw and then your cheeks. The warmth of his seed seeping off you as your hands loosen their hold on his body.

“We can’t do this again.” You whisper to him exhaustedly.

“I know.” He whispers back to you, his eyes shot with the look of love. Or was it lust? You could not tell. “I know.”

But you knew you were both lying to yourselves.

He was going to come back again and again.

And you would let him in, just as you had now.

══════════════════

YOU HAD SAID YOU DIDN’T WANT TO PARTICIPATE IN ANY PRESS TOURS. It had taken a while before you had even budged to the demands of the director. But you knew that you couldn’t admit that to be a resolve without the act. All Toji had to do was ask you, in his own way and you knew you would say yes. And you hated that it was the case.

As the lights of the red carpet flickered around you, you smiled, the cameras flashing as you and Fushiguro Toji posed side by side. His presence, tall and imposing, was the perfect foil to your poised elegance, but inside, you felt something altogether different. It was truly a quiet storm of conflicting emotions that you could barely contain.

The interviewer, enthusiastic and bright-eyed, approached you both with a microphone. “You two are the talk of the town! After months of speculation, you’ve finally confirmed your relationship with that press announcement. How does it feel to have it all out in the open?”

You met the interviewer’s gaze, your smile steady, though you could feel the weight of the question pressing against your chest. You exchanged a brief glance with Toji, his expression unreadable. He gave a small nod, as if reassuring you to continue, but you knew the truth—there was nothing to reassure, nothing to calm.

“We’re happy to finally share our truth, really.” you said, your voice smooth, practiced, like you were reading from a script. "It's been an incredible journey, and we're excited for what's next, both in our professional and personal lives."

The interviewer’s smile widened, practically giddy with excitement. “It’s clear that you two are truly in love! Your chemistry on and off-screen is undeniable. Toji, how does it feel to have such an amazing partner by your side?”

Toji’s lips quivered into a half-smile, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes. “It feels like a new chapter, honestly. I’ve always admired her strength, her talent. She’s someone who challenges me, changes me, in ways I didn’t expect. I think that’s what makes it work.”

The words were kind, but you heard the undertone. You knew what it was. It was the unspoken acknowledgment of the past. The past you’d both tried to bury under layers of public appearances, press releases, and carefully crafted smiles. The past you had come to hate with all your hatred.

What had started as something deeply painful had morphed into something else entirely, something you didn’t quite understand but couldn’t escape. This was a gilded cage that you had allowed him to trap you in.

One that you couldn’t escape. That’s why you were here, standing next to him, because you couldn’t tear yourself away. You couldn’t fly away. Even when you hated him. Even when you knew better.

You felt the interviewer’s eyes shift back to you, awaiting a response, her curiosity piqued. "And for you, how does it feel to have him by your side now, after everything you've been through?"

Your chest tightened. The words to explain your truth were there, just beneath the surface, but they never quite made it to your lips. You gave another practiced smile, masking the turmoil that churned inside you.

"It’s complicated, yeah." you said carefully, choosing your words with precision. "We’ve both had our struggles, but that’s part of growth. That’s a lot of work, to make it all go smoothly. We’ve learned a lot from each other. And we’re both better for it."

The words hung in the air, a soft veil of politeness that couldn’t hide the undercurrent of something darker. The toxic bond, the cycle of love and hate, of pain and yearning. You hated that you were still here. You hated that you could never quite leave him, no matter how much you should. And yet, there was no escaping the pull. Not now. Not after everything.

The interviewer beamed, satisfied with your answer, but all you could do was nod politely, your gaze flickering to Toji again. The smile he gave you was the same one you had seen countless times before, the one that made your heart ache, the one that made you question everything about who you were, about who you were becoming.

You knew you should’ve been stronger. You knew you should’ve walked away a long time ago. But here you were, caught in the web you had spun and truly hated it. You hated him, but you still stayed. You knew, deep down, that this was your reality now.

Your love for him would never be pure. It would never be something that anyone deserves to have. It was not worth living a life of destitution and desperation. And yet, it was what you had. It would never be easy, it would never be anything other than toxic.. It would always be tangled up in mistakes, in forgiveness, in betrayal, in passion.

And so you stayed.

Because even if he would hurt you, even if you would hurt him, this was the life you had chosen. You had crossed that line long ago, and now, there was no going back. There was no way to escape the chaotic love you shared. It would make you happy. It would make you miserable. It would always be the same, because it had always been this way, and maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

For better or for worse.

For the horrid to the frigid.

You both were toxic till the end.

The moment you stepped inside the theater, the noise of the red carpet event faded into a dull hum, replaced by the quiet buzz of the room. The lights overhead gleamed off the polished surfaces, casting long shadows over the seats where the audience had yet to arrive.

Fushiguro Toji walked beside you, his presence commanding and strong, but the usual ease between you felt heavier now, charged with a tension neither of you had addressed since the interview. Since you were now a couple in the public hemisphere. And he was too aware of it all.

As you made your way toward the dressing room, you felt the weight of his blue–green gaze on you, sharp and searching, as if he was trying to decipher something in your posture, in the way you carried yourself. You ignored it, pretending to focus on the steps ahead, the noise of your heels clicking against the floor, the rhythm of your breath.

When you reached the door, you paused for a moment, the cold handle beneath your fingers reminding you of the distance that had always existed between you and Toji, even when you were close, even when you thought you understood each other. Even when you were now stuck in this disturbed romance.

The room was empty except for the faint scent of makeup and old costumes, a reminder of the countless times you’d shared similar spaces before everything had unraveled. Toji followed you inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click. His footsteps were quieter now, the usual swagger in his walk subdued, but his presence still loomed larger than life.

You didn’t turn to face him immediately, choosing instead to adjust your dress in front of the mirror. The reflection staring back at you seemed almost foreign—perfectly poised, with a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. Not fully. And you didn’t know when that would ever happen again.

“You okay?” Toji’s voice was low, cautious, as though he wasn’t sure whether to press you or give you space.

You met his gaze in the mirror, seeing the uncertainty there. It made something inside you tighten, but you refused to show it. “I’m fine, don’t worry.” you said, though the words felt empty as they left your mouth. “It’s just... another night, another show.”

Toji stepped closer, his reflection merging with yours in the glass. “You don’t have to pretend, you know.” he said softly, his tone edging with a familiar vulnerability that made your chest tighten. “You don’t have to say everything’s fine when it’s not, babe.”

For a moment, you thought you might turn to him, reach out for him, let the rawness of it all spill over. But then you remembered the cameras, the words you’d both spoken on the carpet. The image you were meant to present. The lies you’d wrapped yourselves in, hoping no one would see the truth beneath.

“I’m not pretending.” you replied, a little too quickly. You broke your gaze with the mirror and turned to face him now, your eyes narrowing as if daring him to say something more. “What’s the point? Everyone’s watching, Toji. Everyone’s waiting to see if we’re going to fall apart, if we’re going to crack under the weight of it all. So why give them the satisfaction?”

Toji didn’t flinch at your sharp words. Instead, he took a step closer, his eyes softening, his voice quieter. “Maybe I’m tired of pretending too. Maybe I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

You shook your head, stepping back from him, though your heart thundered in your chest. “It’s too late for that. It’s too late for us, for anything real. We’ve already made our choices, Toji. This….whatever this is—this is just for show. This is what we have now. This is what we’re stuck with. And you know what the root cause was.”

For a brief moment, silence hung in the air, thick and oppressive, before Toji took a step forward, his hand reaching out to gently grasp your wrist, stopping you from retreating further. His touch was steady, but there was a deep sadness in his eyes, something that you could feel without needing to see it.

“I don’t want to lose you.” he said, his voice tight with emotion. “I never wanted to hurt you. I know I did, but I swear, I’m trying to fix it. I’m trying to fix us.”

You looked at his hand on your wrist, the heat of it seeping into your skin, and for a moment, you wondered if you could believe him. But then reality crashed back in, the weight of everything you’d been through. His betrayal, your own resentment, the lies you told yourselves about what you were.

“I don’t know if I can trust you again, Toji.” you whispered, your voice shaky, vulnerable in a way you hadn’t allowed yourself to be before. “I don’t know if I can forgive you.”

He watches as you halted, taking a moment to gather yourself. Before you looked at him again. “But god, we are just miserable with and without each other. Nothing changes. And yet here we are.”

His grip tightened ever so slightly, as if pleading for you to see something, anything, in him that might make a difference. “I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you that I can earn that trust back. If you’ll let me.”

The words hung in the air, suspended between you, as the unspoken tension between you both remained unresolved. There was a part of you that wanted to believe him, that wanted to give in, to fall into the comfort of what you once had. But there was another part of you, the part that had learned from the mistakes, the hurt, that knew better.

“I don’t know.” you said quietly, pulling your wrist free from his grasp. “But I’m not the person I was before, and neither are you. So maybe we just need to accept that.”

Toji’s eyes dropped for a moment, the weight of your words clearly sinking in. He didn’t argue. He didn’t try to change your mind. Instead, he nodded, as if acknowledging the truth you both shared, no matter how painful it was.

“I don’t want to lose you.” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

But this time, there was no more fight left in you to give.

The words hung between you both, unresolved.

And for the first time, you wondered if you ever could let him go.

You wondered if you both would ever be free from each other.

Yet you knew that was wishful thinking, you knew that was a dream.

“You don’t have to worry.” You whispered back to him. “I’m not going anywhere….But you already knew that. Didn’t you?”

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revelboo · 2 days ago

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Pls pls pls more tfa 😫🙏🙏🙏 i love your writing, thank you for feeding the transformers fans 🩷

Sure!

That’ll work 😀

The Devil You Know

TFA Megatron x Reader

• When you’d signed on, snagging the coveted position as Prof. Sumdac’s intern and personal assistant, you’d been hoping to learn some of his secrets. Get a hands on education in state of the art robotics. Not spend most of your time cleaning up after the surprisingly diminutive and incredibly absent minded genius. The man leaving a trail of half empty tea cups all over his lab. Wandering about collecting those for the night before you can leave, you reach for the light switch and when you turn it off, a bright line of light against the wall makes you hesitate. What is that? Flicking the light back on, you set down the tray you’d been using to clean up and walk over. And realize there’s a gap behind the shelving. Wiggling your finger into the gap and pulling to find the whole shelf rolls on a set of hidden tracks.

• It’s difficult to gauge time accurately trapped as he is. Sumdac working to repair his body. Supposedly. Hates leaving his fate in the hands of the primitive insect, knowing how cautious the human is. Too cautious and that makes it hard to manipulate him as he’d like. Hearing steps on the stairs to the lab Sumdac hides him away in, his optics lift and a low growl escapes him. Because you’re not Sumdac. And the way you’re creeping about trying to be quiet, looking around wide eyed, makes it clear you’re not supposed to be down here.

• It’s a whole lab, secreted away behind a hidden passageway. Heart racing as your fingers brush along the wall, you take it in. Has anyone else been down here or are you the first? Know you shouldn’t be down here, that Sumdac will be angry. Might very well throw you out if he catches you, but you can’t resist the mystery. It’s the partially built, giant robot head that draws your eyes. Those red optics luminous and you almost fall when they shift and focus on you. Breath catching as you wonder if it’s a security system and if sirens are about to start screaming. Because it’s looking at you with uncanny focus and intelligence.

• Wide eyes stare up at him, as you cling to the stair railing, backing up and he forces a warm smile. “Please, don’t go. It gets so lonely down here,” he says. “I can assure you I’m not a threat to you.” And you hesitate, staring at him. Watches you fidget, little hands plucking at the hem of your covering, but you’re listening. Hoping you’re more gullible than Sumdac, because if he can coax your trust, he can convince you to help. Convince you to trust him. Only him. “I’ve been trapped down here by that man. Dissected and tortured to help him further his own greedy goals. Please.”

• This is the secret to Sumdac’s genius? Is he an AI? Heart pounding, you move closer, drawn by that deep voice. “Sumdac did this to you?” And moving closer, watching those optics track you, he is more advanced than any of the Prof’s robots. “What are you?” Where’s the rest of him? “Can I help?” And he smiles down at you as you examine the tube his head is trapped in. Because the distress in his voice tugs at you. Tortured and dissected when he’s clearly intelligent and far too advanced. What is he?

#transformers x reader #megatron x reader #tfa megatron

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probablysimpledreams · 1 day ago

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Another Chance (Dabi x reader)

a/n: grrrr all I can think about is Touya I just love him so so much!!! His ending and the entire LOV's endings still have me so :( and I've been imagining what it would look like if they all survived the war and got to live. Which led me to write up this fic where the reader was dating Dabi pre-war and didn't know he survived until Shoto sought you out and allow y'all to reunite!!! There's a hint of angst but overall it's very cutey because Touya deserves all the love!!!

wc: 1017

"I've killed over 30 innocent civilians. The firstborn of the Todoroki family. I am going to tell you all why I committed these heinous crimes."

Despite the words leaving the villain's mouth, you couldn't help but smile softly as you rewatched Dabi's reveal video for the fifth time. Work was slow and you were missing him a little more than usual today. Besides, it really was all you had left of him.

It had been almost three months since the war between heroes and villains went down, completely changing the world you once knew. This meant it was coming up on three months since you last saw your lover. Since the night he broke up with you, saying his time in this world was up and you should move forward. Without him.

"Excuse me," a young man says as he approaches the front desk you're seated behind. His voice snaps you out of your spiraling heartbroken thoughts. You take a deep breath, pulling yourself together and throwing on your customer service face. "Are you ______?"

"I am. How can I help you today?"

"My name is Shoto Todoroki." Your stomach drops. "Do you have a minute to talk?"

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

For the first time in months, the week flew by. Today was finally the day you were going to reunited with Dabi. As excited as you were, anxiety was growing more and more inside your head. What if he didn't actually want to see you? What if you only make things harder for him? He was already suffering so much, maybe it would be better if you just went home and never came back and-

"He's going to be happy to see you." Shoto smiles as he places a hand on your shakey shoulder, breaking silence in the waiting room where you sat with his siblings and mother, all waiting for Touya to wake up from his nap.

"Yeah the idiot has been saying your name like every other day," Natsuo chimes in with a wide grin. "Still can't believe out of all his secrets, he had a gorgeous partner this whole time. You sure you're not some spy or something?" Fuyumi slaps his shoulder, shooting you an apologetic look before the two bicker. You chuckle at the sight, feeling your anxiety go down. You never imagined Dabi would have come from such a lively family.

"He's awake," a nurse approaches your group. You stand up with his siblings, Rei smiling softly at everyone before you all walk into his hospital room.

"Touya-nii," Shoto is the first to speak upon entering the room. "You have a guest."

"Yeah well fuck off," he grumbles, closing his eyes again despite just waking up.

"Well you heard him ______, guess we should head then," Natsuo teased loudly. Touya's eyes widen at hearing this, sitting up on the bed as his eyes scanned the room, landing on you with a shocked expression.

"________?" he asked in disbelief that you were standing here in front of him. Fuyumi and Natsuo snicker hearing his heart monitor rapidly beat, causing Touya to throw up a middle finger their way before returning his focus on you. You stood awkwardly as he sat awkwardly, unsure what to do next.

"Let's give them some privacy, yeah?" Fuyumi grabs Shoto and Natsuo before heading out the room, closing the door behind her. The silence persists until you speak up.

"Is it okay if I sit?" you ask, pointing to a spot on the large hospital bed. The size of the bed and private room must be a perk that comes with the Number One Hero's money paying for your medical bills. He nods, shakey bandaged hands smoothing out the bedsheets before you take a seat with him. "So Dabi-"

"Touya," he cuts you off. "You can call me Touya. At this point Dabi is gone." He sounded so nervous as he spoke it made your heart ache.

"Okay," you respond. "So Touya," you giggle upon hearing his heart rate monitor speed up again after saying his name. You take a shakey deep breath, collecting your thoughts. There was so much you wanted to say to him. You wanted to yell at him for leaving you. You wanted to cry, thanking the heavens and earth he was still alive. You wanted to make him promise he'd never do this to you again. Yet every time you went to open your mouth, no words would leave. Touya took notice to the conflicting emotions on your face each time you went to speak, the heavy weight of guilt tugging at his heart.

"I-I'm so sorry....." his words were quiet and it sounded like he was about to cry. He doesn't expect you to forgive me. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if you didn't love him anymore. His heart sank as he heard muffled sobs leaving your mouth. He couldn't look at you.

"Can we start over?" you smile as he finally meets your teary eyes. His bandaged hand reaches to cup your face, thumb rubbing away the tears that have fallen from your eyes. He felt didn't deserve another chance at life like this, but god he wanted it more than anything. This time it wasn't because of hatred or spite. No he wanted to live out of love. Out of love for his siblings. For his mother. For you. Especially for you.

"Yeah, I'd like that," his voice is shakey as he speaks. He feels insanely nervous as he asks his next question, as if it's the first time he's ever asked you this. "C-can I kiss you?"

"Please." You don't care how desperate you sound in your answer. You needed him to know how you've been longing for him all this time, how he hadn't left your thoughts once since the last night you saw him. He pulls you into a sweet, gentle kiss. His lips are more burnt than the last time you shared a kiss, but it doesn't matter. He still tastes the same. He's still the same man you love. And this time, neither of you were going to let the other get away.

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duhshereadz · 2 days ago

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A collection of one-shots with Ekko as your boyfriend!

1. Late-Night Adventures

The city hummed with life, neon lights reflecting off the damp streets. You tugged your jacket closer as the chilly air nipped at your skin. Ekko walked beside you, hands in his hoodie pocket, a lopsided grin on his face.

“Where are we going?” you asked, curiosity edging your tone.

“You’ll see,” he said, smirking. “You trust me, right?”

“Debatable,” you teased, earning a scoff.

Ekko stopped suddenly, turning to face you. His dark brown eyes locked on yours, filled with amusement. “Alright, Y/N. I’ll give you a hint. It’s something you’ve never done before, but you’ll love it. Guaranteed.”

You raised a brow, skeptical but intrigued. “Fine. Lead the way, Time Boy.”

He chuckled, taking your hand in his, the warmth of his palm cutting through the chill. “Keep up, slowpoke.”

Minutes later, you stood in front of a high-rise apartment building. Ekko pulled out a small key from his pocket and nodded toward the rooftop door. “Come on.”

The sight that greeted you made your breath catch. The entire rooftop was strung with fairy lights, and a projector was set up against one wall. Blankets and snacks were scattered across a makeshift seating area.

“You did all this?” you whispered.

Ekko shrugged, looking almost bashful. “I figured we could use a night under the stars. You’ve been stressed lately.”

You threw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. “You’re ridiculous,” you muttered against his shoulder.

“Yeah, but you love it,” he replied, wrapping his arms around you with a soft chuckle.

2. Paint Wars

You should’ve known better than to agree to Ekko’s idea of painting the walls in his studio apartment.

“Do you even know how to paint a wall?” you asked, holding a roller with suspicion.

“Do you?” he shot back, grinning as he dipped his brush into a can of dark teal paint. “We’re winging it, Y/N. That’s half the fun.”

It started innocently enough—music playing in the background, the two of you focused on covering the plain white walls. But then you felt a cold splash against your arm.

“Ekko,” you warned, glancing at him.

He stood a few feet away, feigning innocence as he held the paintbrush behind his back. “What?”

“You just got paint on me.”

“Prove it.”

Without thinking, you dipped your roller into the paint and flung it at him, leaving a smear across his cheek.

“Oh, you’re done for,” he said, grinning wickedly.

The next few minutes were chaos—paint splattered everywhere as the two of you dodged and attacked, laughing uncontrollably. By the end, the walls were only half-finished, but you were both covered head to toe in teal.

Ekko leaned against the wall, out of breath but smiling. “Okay, maybe this wasn’t the most efficient plan.”

“Yeah,” you said, catching your breath. “But it was worth it.”

He reached over, smearing paint on your nose. “You look better in teal anyway.”

3. A Lazy Sunday Morning

The soft glow of sunlight filtered through the curtains as you stirred awake. Ekko’s arm was draped across your waist, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

“Morning,” you murmured, your voice thick with sleep.

“Five more minutes,” he mumbled, pulling you closer.

“You always say that,” you teased, running your fingers through his soft hair.

He tilted his head up, his lips curling into a smirk. “Because I like waking up like this.”

Your heart swelled at the honesty in his voice. “What’s the plan for today?”

He groaned, rolling onto his back. “Plan? Nah, today’s for doing nothing. We deserve it.”

The two of you spent the morning tangled in each other, talking about everything and nothing. At some point, Ekko started humming a song, his voice low and smooth.

“You should sing more,” you said, resting your head on his chest.

He laughed softly. “I’ll sing for you, but only if you promise not to tell anyone I’m a secret softie.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

4. Protecting What’s His

The argument had been brewing all night, the tension palpable as the stranger at the bar got too close for comfort.

Ekko was leaning against the counter when it happened. The guy had laughed too loudly, his hand brushing your shoulder one too many times.

“Hey,” Ekko said, stepping in. His tone was calm, but his eyes were sharp. “You wanna back up?”

The stranger scoffed, clearly unimpressed. “Chill out, man. I’m just talking to her.”

“And now you’re done,” Ekko replied, his jaw tight.

You placed a hand on Ekko’s arm. “It’s fine. Let’s just go.”

But Ekko wasn’t backing down. He stood his ground, his expression firm. “If you’re smart, you’ll walk away now.”

The stranger muttered something under his breath but eventually moved on.

As you stepped outside, Ekko let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry if I overreacted,” he said, his voice softer now.

“You didn’t,” you said, leaning into him. “Thanks for standing up for me.”

He pulled you close, his hand resting on the small of your back. “Always, Y/N. Nobody messes with you when I’m around.”

5. Confessions in the Rain

The rain poured down, drenching you both as you stood in the middle of the street.

“Ekko, this is ridiculous!” you shouted over the downpour.

“Then come here and stop me,” he called back, spinning in circles with his arms outstretched.

You ran up to him, grabbing his arm. “You’re gonna catch a cold!”

He laughed, shaking his wet curls out of his face. “You’re cute when you worry.”

“Ekko—”

“I love you.”

The words stopped you in your tracks. Your heart raced as you stared at him, his grin fading into something more serious.

“I’m not great at this,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I love you, Y/N. I’ve been wanting to say it for a while.”

Tears mixed with the rain as you smiled, throwing your arms around him. “I love you too, you idiot.”

He held you tightly, his lips finding yours in the rain. “Guess we’re both idiots then.”

#arcane #ekko arcane #ekko #ekko league of legends #ekko x you #ekko x reader #arcane oneshot #oneshot #alternate universe #modern au

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cha-melodius · 1 day ago

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6. The “I forgive you” hug (for rwrb, if you haven’t gotten this one yet)

(Ooh, an unusual request! There are so many ways this could have gone; I hope you enjoy what I came up with. read all the hug ficlets)

6: The “I forgive you” hug

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?” Henry asks, having finally managed to corner Alex alone by the cake, midway through their friends’ wedding reception.

Alex rolls his eyes, not in that teasing way he used to but decidedly exasperated, which is as much a sign that something’s wrong as all the rest of his behaviour. “Nothing’s going on,” he huffs, pretending like he’s suddenly fascinated by sugar flowers.

“You’ve been acting like a right arsehole all night. To Jeff, and to me,” Henry says bluntly. He’s never seen Alex be as rude as he’s been to Henry’s date. Maybe he and Alex haven’t stayed in touch as much lately, but they were close friends once. Honest with each other. Ok, perhaps Henry had kept one secret, but that’s beside the point. “Something’s clearly wrong, and I think you should just say it.”

“It’s nothing,” Alex grunts.

He starts trying to walk away, but Henry’s not done with this discussion; he reaches out to grab Alex’s arm, only to for his grip to get shaken off. The movement causes Alex to lurch to the side and he bumps into the cake table, which wobbles once, precariously, before stabilising.

Alex lets out a heavy sigh of relief, and Henry takes advantage of his distraction to grab his arm, more firmly this time, and haul him out into the corridor.

“Stop saying it’s nothing,” Henry snaps. They’re standing closer now, their noses no more than a handful of centimetres apart, and Alex glares up at him. “I know you, and this isn’t who you are.”

“Maybe it is now,” Alex retorts defiantly, but there are cracks forming in his façade. His lower lip, stuck out along with his set jaw, wobbles.

“Please, Alex,” Henry says, his voice softening before he means to let it. He’s never been able to stay mad at Alex for that long. “You know you can tell me anything.”

Alex’s expression crumples, and he drops his eyes to the ground. “I’m sorry, H. I was frustrated at myself, and I took it out on you guys. You didn’t deserve that.”

Henry doesn’t hesitate before he pulls Alex into a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around Alex’s shoulders as Alex tucks his head partly under Henry’s chin. “It’s forgiven,” he says, half into Alex’s curls. “It’s just… I missed you, and it hurt when you pushed me away like that.”

“I missed you too,” Alex sniffles into Henry’s shoulder. After another breath, he carefully extracts himself and smooths the front of his jacket down. “I saw you after all this time, and I think I was so fucking overwhelmed by regret that I temporarily lost my mind.”

“What do you mean, regret?” Henry asks, though he assumes Alex means not keeping in touch as much as they should have—Henry certainly has plenty of regrets about that.

But Alex just smiles a little ruefully and shakes his head. “Mostly regret that I didn’t figure out I was bisexual until after college.”

Henry blinks at him. “What?”

“I mean, I had such a big, fat crush on you, and I didn’t even realise what it was until literal years later. How embarrassing is that?”

He says it with a laugh and an alluring dusty pink tinge on his cheeks, like he hasn’t just turned Henry’s entire life upside down.

“But—” Henry starts, only to falter. “But you’ve got a partner now, too.”

“Who, Nora?” Alex frowns at him. “I could have sworn I told you she’s my sister’s wife. She’s just here because I didn’t want to come alone. That, and the free cake.”

“So… you’re not seeing anyone?”

Alex’s mouth tips wryly. “Nope. Sadly single.”

Henry doesn’t think—he crosses the few steps between them, puts both of his hands on Alex’s face, and pulls him into a kiss. Alex responds almost instantaneously, like he can’t help it, and their lips slide together for a few blissful moments before he tears himself out of it, his eyes wide.

“Wait— what about Jeff?”

“We’ve been on three dates and I don’t even like him that much,” Henry confesses. “I didn’t want to come alone either.”

“So you—”

“Have been in love with you since our first year? Yes,” Henry finishes, unwilling to waste any more time.

Alex’s smile is impossibly brilliant when Henry pulls him into another kiss.

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #firstprince #firstprince fic #rwrb fic #my fic #hug ficlets

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bamgyuuuri · 2 days ago

Text

⤷ delicate ┈ cbg.

pairing. beomgyu x afab!reader . angst . moral dilemmas word count. 1.1k short note ... im supposed to be studying for exams tmr but ended up writing this drabble instead,, ;P i’ll actually get to the reqs sent to me once i finish finals i promise omg

all your friends despised beomgyu.

their hatred wasn’t casual, the kind born out of a passing annoyance or a small slight, no. it was deep, raw, and visceral, the kind of hatred that grew roots in every whispered conversation, every sharp glance, every cruel joke that lingered in the air long after it was said.

“he’s the worst kind of person,” one of your friends said one evening, her voice tight and bitter as she stabbed at her salad with her fork.

the group was seated in your favorite booth at the diner, the one you always shared late into the night, laughter echoing against the walls—except tonight was different. tonight, the atmosphere was tense, heavy. “he didn’t just lead her on. he used her.”

your other friends nodded, their agreement coming in muttered curses and sharp scoffs.

“what he did to her exactly?” another leaned forward, her voice dropping into an almost conspiratorial whisper, like the words were too vile to say out loud.

“he led her on for months. months. and then just... disappeared. like she was nothing. like she didn’t even matter. god, if i ever see him again, i don’t know what i’d do.”

“honestly,” one of them said, turning to look directly at you, “i don’t get how you’re so calm about this. if i were you, i’d never be able to even think about him without wanting to scream.”

your throat tightened. you stared into your untouched drink, watching the condensation drip down the glass like it held the answers to the storm raging inside you.

you wanted to say something. you wanted to tell them that they were wrong, that the boy they described wasn’t the beomgyu you knew. but how could you? how could you speak up without unraveling the tangled mess of lies and secrets you had been holding together with trembling hands?

because the truth was something they could never know.

they didn’t know that while your friend had been falling for beomgyu, he had been falling for someone else.

he had been falling for you.

the guilt had been unbearable at first. it clawed at you, sinking its sharp, unrelenting talons into your chest every time your friend cried on your shoulder, her voice trembling as she whispered, “what did I do wrong?”

you held her, whispered reassurances you didn’t even believe, all the while knowing that you were the reason her heart had been broken.

you told yourself you would walk away. that you had to.

but then he would look at you with those eyes, dark and full of something so raw and vulnerable it made your knees weak. his walls would crumble, just for you, and the boy they all hated became someone entirely different. someone you couldn’t let go of.

“do you hate me too?” he had asked one night, his voice quiet and small, like he was afraid of the answer. you were sitting on the floor of your bedroom, the soft glow of a candle flickering between you. he was leaning back on his hands, his gaze fixed on you, searching, waiting.

your breath caught. “what?”

“everyone else does,” he continued, his lips twitching into a humorless smile. “so I figure… maybe you do too. maybe you should.”

your heart shattered. “beomgyu—”

“i know what they think of me,” he interrupted, his voice trembling now, cracking under the weight of emotions he couldn’t hold back. “i know what they say. and maybe… maybe they’re right. maybe I am horrible. but…” he reached for you then, his hand brushing against yours, warm and hesitant. “when i’m with you, it doesn’t feel like I’m that person. you make me want to be better. you make me feel like… like maybe I can be.”

you had no words. his gaze burned into you, his eyes filled with something so achingly sincere it made it hard to breathe.

but the guilt was still there, a sharp blade twisting in your chest, cutting deeper with every moment you stayed. you knew what your friends would think if they found out, the way their faces would contort with anger, with betrayal. you could hear their accusations, their voices dripping with venom. how could you do this to her? how could you do this to us?

and yet, despite the weight of it all, you couldn’t walk away.

because you loved him.

and that made it worse, somehow.

it wasn’t just that you were keeping a secret that would destroy everything. it was that you didn’t want to stop. you didn’t want to let him go, even though you knew you should. even though every moral fiber in your being screamed at you to end it, to put the pieces back together before it was too late.

but how could you leave when he looked at you like that? like you were the only person who had ever truly seen him?

how could you leave when his voice trembled as he whispered your name, when his hands shook as they traced over your skin, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go?

how could you leave when, for all his flaws, for all the mistakes he had made, he was still the boy you loved?

“you should hate me,” you whispered one night, your voice breaking as the words tumbled out. the two of you were lying in bed, tangled together in the darkness. his arm was draped over your waist, his breath warm against your neck. “you should hate me for doing this. for not stopping it.”

he didn’t answer at first. his hold on you tightened, his fingers digging into your side like he was trying to keep you there, trying to stop you from slipping away.

“i could never hate you,” he said finally, his voice barely audible. “even if I should.”

your chest ached, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a thousand bricks.

you wanted to believe him. god, you wanted to believe him. but the guilt was always there, a constant reminder of the line you had crossed, the trust you had broken.

you didn’t know if you deserved happiness. not when it came at the expense of someone else’s pain. but when he held you like this, when he whispered your name like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to this world, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

because no matter how wrong it was, no matter how much it hurt, you loved him.

and maybe that made you just as horrible as they thought he was.

taglist! @pagelets, @jettithink, @killa-1009, @j-ji-jia, @frankghgr, @dawngyu @unusuallyunlikelyfox @sxmmerberries @napipope-ta <3 (click here if you would like to be added ^_^)

#beomgyu #choi beomgyu #beomgyu x female reader #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x you #beomgyu x y/n #beomgyu angst #beomgyu imagines #txt x reader #txt imagines #txt fanfic #txt x you #kpop fanfic #kpop imagines #beomgyu drabble #txt drabble

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doeshik · 2 days ago

Text

Baby, I miss you: 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒃𝒊𝒏

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: skz Idol bf! Changbin x fem!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mutual masturbation, watching porn (Homemade porn!), Changbin's handy and fancy fleshlight, sharing toys, finger sucking, gagging, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms (f!rec), felching

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4081

Changbin is excited. He is completely excited and can't help himself. Their tour travels had them all so busy, with their schedules, that they could barely breathe, let alone find the time to lie down, relax, and spend the night reacquainting their bodies with the pleasure of sleep they craved. He was so busy, so deeply exhausted and barely present that masturbating in the hotel shower while abroad didn't even cross his mind.

Now that they're back home in Korea, Changbin wants to treat himself.

He closes the door, a prospect that would leave his roommate Hyunjin speechless if he were less glued to his own room. It's a lot of fun to travel together, but the comfort of home is something everyone misses very often. You feel fresh and pampered after a relaxing shower, your hair damp from being half-towel-dried and your body damp and warm from the steam from the personal bath in your room.

Changbin crawls on his bed and growls all the while, stretching his limbs like a sleepy wildcat, flexing his muscles as he melts face-first into the safety of his mattress. He's so comfortable that he didn't bother putting on anything but his boxers after his shower, and the coldness of the sheets feels so good against his warm chest and belly. He stands still for a few moments before reaching for his phone on the nightstand.

He's not looking for porn anymore, not really. He doesn't care about writing a sleazy website with even sleazier ads. Why would he do it when his pretty girlfriend? He has you.

Your thumb quickly finds your camera roll and your favorites album even faster. The blurry back of a box of protein powder, a beautiful blue Jeju sky, a forty second video of him with his face buried in your pussy. Changbin doesn't mind creating a secret folder or hiding his videos and photos in any way; They are easy to access for him and that is what he likes.

His fingers curl into a fist and Changbin rests his chin on it as he examines his inventory, watching the screen intently each time he moves to a new slide.

The first few seconds of his last punch have Changbin immediately turning around and reaching for his nightstand. This time, he opens the drawer to pull out his favorite clear Fleshlight and his nearly empty bottle of lube. He rubs the back of his neck against the pillow to find the right spot and places the Fleshlight and lube against his side so he can watch the video before putting it on.

It's you. So sweetly depraved and beautifully naked, sitting comfortably in the chair in the corner of your room, legs wide open and facing the mirror that is right in front of you. He recognizes the dildo you're using because he's the one who ordered it for you, one of those milky white ones with the colorful confetti inside. He pumps himself into the rubbery walls of your pussy, and Changbin is quick to turn up the volume on his phone so he can hear the slick noises he makes as he fucks you. He knows you feel good, he's watched this video so many times he's almost memorized every step. You tilt the dildo up slightly and your toes curl sweetly. Changbin bites his lip as your phone shakes in your grip.

“I’m going to squirt,” you whimper, eyes closed.

Crossing before doing just that, dripping like that, so hard it splashes loudly against the mirror.

Your phone shakes in your hand again as you pull the dildo out of your tight hole to rub the tip frantically against your plump clit. You ejaculate some more and it splatters.

Weakly against the spread of your thighs.

Breathe deeply for a moment before laughing.

and changbin finds himself smiling at you, he always does, and you reinstate the mirror.

Innocent kisses before ending the video.

He's rock hard, bulging the front of his boxers and already dripping from the tip after watching one of your gorgeous videos.

“Damn,” he grunts, sliding his thumb across the bottom of the screen to play the part where you ejaculate again. Changbin reaches for his cock as he looks at you again, squeezing it with a rough hand before lifting his hips and removing his boxers completely.

He flicks through photos of half-eaten pasta dishes and a recipe you promised to make him, pausing to smile at a photo of you standing sleepily in the middle of your kitchen staring at the open refrigerator.

The next video he stops at is almost five minutes long, a delicious POV shot of you sucking his fat cock. Changbin grabs the extra pillow on his bed and uses it to support his elbow so his arm doesn't get too tired while holding it.

The video starts with you gagging, separating your lips from his cock and leaving thick strings of saliva in your wake. You stick your tongue out of your mouth to collect the strings of saliva and Changbin grunts audibly, just like he grunts in the video. There's a dazed smile on your face as you lean down to lick the underside of his cock and Changbin caresses your cheek with his thumb.

“Look how pretty you are,” he whispers, and your smile widens for him. Your eyes narrow, he has the flash on since it's dark in your room, but you still make a conscious effort to look into his eyes for as long as possible as you bring him back to the warmth of your mouth.

Changbin jerks his cock hard as he watches you perform oral sex on him, biting his thick bottom lip with his teeth. You sound so good, the wet noises your throat makes along with your muffled moans making Changbin thrust into his own fist as the video progresses.

Your eyes close and focus solely on the slick noises coming from your phone. You're sucking on his balls, he can tell by the unpleasant pop-pop-pops that suddenly sound like they're far, far away. You will only listen for a moment before finally using your fleshlight, you will close your eyes for just a minute and then begin.

He is so relaxed, his body melting so comfortably into the bed that his phone slips from his hands and he falls asleep before it hits the mattress.

There's a solid weight pressed against your side when you blink awake, and your room has darkened minutely as the sun sets through your curtains. His hand sleepily strokes the bed and finds his unused fleshlight and lube, and it's not until then that he remembers what he was doing before his unexpected nap.

It takes Changbin a moment to get his bearings, always disoriented after a good nap. Something brushes against the bare skin of his leg.

“mm,” he grunts, blinking rapidly again and stretching his arms above his head until his elbows crack. He's finally starting to notice the repeated nudges at his side, and Changbin's hand caresses his body until he finds another arm, a moving arm, a restless arm, and his head finally lifts from the pillow to look at his side.

Your bare back is pressed against him, your shoulders tilted slightly away from his view, but he can still see his phone held firmly in your hand. He can also listen to the video you're watching, directly from his favorites folder. The push is obvious now; you're touching yourself to the video you're watching next to him, and changbin hums deep in his throat before turning fully towards you and wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Mm, my love,” he whispers, kissing the shell of your ear warmly and slowly moving down your neck. You lean into him now, snuggling into his chest and adjusting the phone so he can clearly see the video too.

It's not the one he was watching before he fell asleep, but he's watched each of these videos enough times to know how many you must have watched to get to this one. This particular video was taken 3 years ago during his Maniac tour, with his phone propped up against the nightstand lamp of his hotel room in a city he can't be bothered to remember now.

He has your legs over his shoulders, pressing kisses to your ankles, his cock caressing your insides just the way he knows you like it best.

“You fucked me so good that night,” you remember, your fingers still diligently tugging at your clit as he holds you close. "Changbinnie, you're always so good to me. You had to cover my mouth, remember?"

He remembers it vividly, but the video proves it anyway. A happy cry leaves your lips swollen from the kiss, and Changbin kisses you again before raising his hand to cover your mouth.

“Honey, is it that good?” he asks as he leans down to cover you completely. Your hands come up to grip tightly around his broad shoulders, your legs wrap around his waist, and your head nods frantically in response. Then he knew it was good, he could feel the constant clenching of your sweet pussy around his cock. It's just as good for him too, and his hips slow to a jerk so he can lay his tongue on your erect nipple.

Changbin kisses the top of your head as the video scene makes you squirm. Your hips buck against your own fingers and he whispers, grabbing your thigh and spreading it over his so you have more room to touch yourself.

He can hear how wet you are. The sloppy sound your fingers make in your pussy along with the rhythmic tapping of his phone makes his cock throb where it's pressed against your hip. Now that he notices, it hurts, he didn't cum before he fell asleep and it's catching up to him. Keeping one hand on your thigh, he reaches behind him to fumble for his fleshlight.

“You too, yes,” you plead, moving your hand from your clit to rest against his leg.

It was a pleasure to walk into his bedroom and find him gloriously naked on his bed, clearly having fallen asleep before he could get into the meat of their session, with a clear fleshlight and unused lube at his side. He's so cute when he sleeps; Changbin is always so damn handsome. Frizzy hair, full lips and bare chest rising peacefully in his sleep. The screen of your phone hadn't gone dark yet, it lit up and stopped on the final frame of a video of you sucking Changbin's cock.

You undressed before you could think better of it, carefully crawling over his sleep-warm body and grabbing his phone along the way. You knew he wouldn't care, you already did. I had seen his naughty videos before anyway.

Now that he's awake, nothing sounds better than cumming together while watching dirty videos of your past adventures.

Changbin finally manages to grab his fleshlight that's rolled halfway beneath him and once again settles back into his pillow, lying on his back. You turn to face him and press a kiss to his arm, placing his phone on his belly for a moment so you can reach down and stroke his cock for the first time tonight.

He shudders when you do, and you take a deep breath as you lean against his shoulder. His skin is so hot, so hard and velvety in your hand.

“You're so fucking hard,” you whisper, mouth open in amazement as you stroke him from base to tip. Your finger hits the slit of his cock and the pre-cum sticks to it, curling obscenely and smacking when you lift your finger. Your mouth waters and you hum, pressing another kiss to his bulky arm before curling your fingers around his weight again.

The sheets rustle as Changbin's feet become restless at your touch, he fumbles with the fleshlight again, searching for the lubricant with his other hand.

—Come, let me do it. —You don't wait for Changbin's response, you sit with your knees bent beneath you and take the bottle of lube from him. You uncap the bottle and pour it over your fingers to rub it in before bringing it to the transparent folds of your pussy lips on top of your Fleshlight. The weight of Changbin’s gaze on you is piercing, you can already see how heavily his chest rises and falls. —I'll prepare it for you.

Two of your slick fingers pierce the small hole in the sleeve, and Changbin moans quietly as you begin to push in the lube to spread the moisture inside. It makes sense why he likes it so much, there are bumps and ridges inside that must feel heavenly on his fat cock.

Changbin sits up on his elbows to watch; your fingers slide from her fleshlight to rub the glistening little nub of her clit. The lube makes your fingers slide along his folds, and Changbin falls off his elbows and onto his back again with a dramatic moan.

"God, you're..." He doesn't even know what to say. So beautiful, naughty, the love of her life, sinful. All of the above. Watch the way your pretty fingers dip back into the fleshlight's hole, cock throbbing piteously with need.

"Did you ever put your mouth on it?" you ask, licking his neck and jaw and placing a kiss on his cheek. You breathe against him. "To practice? You must have learned all your tricks somewhere..."

As embarrassing as it may seem, he tucked the base of the fleshlight under his pillow and kissed her clit, flexing his tongue to lick the inside of the tight hole just to get familiar with it. He lacks the taste, the smell, the trembling thighs and hips he can grab, but the fantasy of having his mouth buried in your sweet pussy was enough to make him rub himself against his sheets.

Changbin nods, he won't lie, and you smile against his cheek. However, he doesn't wait for you to bring the fleshlight to his lips, but he accepts it immediately. The taste of the lube makes his brows furrow, but it doesn't deter him as he runs his tongue over the toy's soft labia and small clit. Vaginal lips and small clitoris of the toy. Your finger pushes against your clit at the same time as Changbin's tongue flicks against it.

He is so sexy. His little pink tongue makes your own clit throb, but you want to see Changbin really fuck his fleshlight.

There's lube smeared on his lips and chin as you pull it away from his mouth and down onto his cock. Changbin holds the base of his cock and allows you to position the fleshlight at the tip, grunting when you begin to slowly slide it down until it's pressed flush with his pelvis. They then share a messy kiss, the first of the night, when you use your grip to guide the toy up and down his hard cock.

Changbin takes control as you reach for his phone still resting on his belly, desperate to find another video and touch you again too. You're just as turned on as he is, never having the chance to cum before your frantic movements from earlier woke your sweet boyfriend up.

However, you find yourself staring at him for a moment, addicted to the sight of Changbin pleasuring himself next to you. There's obvious strength in the movement of his arm, and the copious amount of lube you made sure to get into the fleshlight squeaks every time his cock pushes all the way inside. Needier than ever, you turn your attention to his phone.

Several movements of your thumb take you to the next video, and you don't even wait for it to start before your hand slides down your body to touch it again.

A passionate encounter filmed through another hotel's glass-enclosed shower. You're being fucked from behind, Changbin's strong, sturdy hands gripping your hips as he presses you against the cold glass. Your nipples harden when your tits come into contact with him. Even through the video you can see his own pecs moving with the force of his thrusts, and your hands grip the glass to hold on as he fucks you hard. He pulls your back towards his chest, pulling you back cupping your neck with his fingers and applying gentle pressure. He holds you like this, one hand around your neck and the other gripping the curve of your waist.

A quick, wet smack on your ass in the video makes your fingers move faster, eyes darting to your boyfriend to see his reaction as well. His own hand moves the toy quickly over his cock, a jerky motion, and he's biting his sweet bottom lip as he watches the video intently. However, he catches your attention and immediately purses his lips for a kiss.

It is a sweet kiss despite the circumstances, with the mouth closed and slow. However, when you zoom out, the scene in front of you is the complete opposite. Now you're on your knees, mouth open and tongue out as Changbin grinds his cock on you. He has changed his position so that the shower spray falls on his back instead of raining directly on your face. Just the sight and the vague memory of the sweet gesture makes you moan, fingers finally slipping into the slick grip of your pussy.

With two fingers penetrating inside your pussy and your thumb rubbing your clit, you're so close you can taste it, and you're not the only one.

“I’m close, I’m so close,” Changbin whimpers. Her legs twist and spread wide as her hips buck wildly against the toy in her fervent need to cum. You lock his phone and drop it on the bed in your haste to look at it, not bothering to watch the last few seconds of the video playing on the screen. Of course, the videos are good, but nothing compares to reality, nothing compares to watching, Feeling Changbin's cum in real time.

You look at him closely and his head turns so he can look at you too, his eyes roaming over your entire body. The final push he needs comes from you sliding your fingers from your pussy and bringing them to his lips. He opens them without question and welcomes your fingers inside, tasting your sweet, spicy wetness on his tongue and moaning quietly around your exploring fingers.

Changbin’s eyes roll as you gag him with them, fingers dipping towards the back of his mouth and he feels the softness of your tongue against the pads of them. With one last hard stroke of the toy on his cock, he cums inside, his hips shaking as he lets the Fleshlight milk him dry.

You're almost vibrating next to him. Changbin has barely come down from his high when you're taking the toy in your hand and sliding it off his cock, bringing it straight to your pussy so you can grind against it. The super skin of her pussy lips feels so good against yours, the bulge of her clit latching onto yours perfectly. Changbin's frantic thrusting made the lube a little sticky, and the skin is even wetter with his cum now oozing from the tight little hole.

Changbin turns around and props himself up on his elbow. He looks at you in awe, eyes wide and starry as he watches you rub your pussy against his fleshlight. His softened cock makes a valiant kick against her stomach.

"You're fucking unreal," he marvels.

"You...it's too much!" He ran again. He did, almost like he was keeping it all for you. His first cum steadily leaks out of the toy and mixes with your own wetness until it leaks to your rim. Your back arches, hand moving so fast your wrist starts to hurt, but Changbin doesn't let you go too far. He notices your movements begin to slow down involuntarily, so he grabs the base of the toy and helps you keep the pace until your legs snap around both of your hands and the fleshlight as you come hard.

Changbin is curious, he wants to see. He crawls towards your feet so he can spread your legs and see your cute pussy. You mockingly offer as much resistance as you can, holding your legs together and laughing dazedly, but Changbin gives you a playful growl and uses his strength to separate you.

It's a delicious sight, your pussy is completely soaked, your hair sticking to your skin with your own juices and his sticky cum. your thighs tremble under his grip, still sensitive from your orgasm from just moments before.

You use your toes to poke him in the shoulder, and Changbin looks at you from between your legs with narrowed eyes.

“Come clean up your mess,” you tease, but the smile falls from your face when Changbin leans over onto his stomach. It's too sexy. You can't help but bite your lip at the sight.

“Ahh, fuck” Changbin whispers. His thumbs part your lips so he can gently rub your clit until your breath catches in your throat. "I'm going to eat this pretty little pussy."

He holds your legs under your knees to keep you in place, but soon, his hands are caressing your thighs. He looks up and meets your eyes as he licks you for the first time, very slowly, from bottom to top. You can't look away and neither can he. The taste of his own cum doesn't deter him at all as he digs in, collecting the mix of your flavors on his tongue and swallowing eagerly as he eats. You're so wet, it's a wonder you can feel his tongue, sliding and sliding hungrily all over your swollen, messy, sensitive pussy. Changbin eats well, he always does, and before long you're on the brink of the top again.

When you reach for Changbin's hands, he twists them on your thighs so you can hold them. He doesn't complain when you squeeze his fingers tightly, just squeezes gently as his tongue runs over the most sensitive part of your body.

He pays so much special attention to your little clit, pressing his plump pink lips right over it and kissing, kissing, kissing until you shake. Changbin was supposed to just be cleaning you up, but before you know it you're running again. He licks you through it, humming and moaning in response to all your pleasure-filled noises. You have to pull his hair up when you're done, otherwise he'd stay between your legs forever.

Changbin crawls onto the bed and plops down next to you, pursing his lips once again to give you a kiss that you could never imagine denying him even though his face is a mess.

You missed him too much. You missed his capable presence and silly jokes, his warm body and bright smile.

“I’m sleepy,” he murmurs, yawning into your sweaty, disheveled hair. When you look up at him, his eyes are closed, already halfway to dreamland again. "Don't leave me."

You wouldn't even imagine it.

#skz imagines #stray kids #skz smut #skz x reader #skz #seo changbin #changbin #kpop #binnie #headcanon #skz hard thoughts #skz headers #skz headcanons #skz seo changbin #changbin hard thoughts #skz oneshots #skz ot8

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heartforbangtan · 2 days ago

Text

The only exception | 4

Series Summary: What are the consequences of having your first kiss with your best friend?

Pairing: Park Jimin X Female Reader

Genre: Dancer AU, Friends with Benefits, Angst, Smut, Fluff, Romance, Mutual Pining

Chapter Count: 4 /? (ongoing)

Word count: 7,5k+

Content Warnings: explicit mature content

A/N: Hiii, I'm back agaaain. This chapter is a bit spicy 😋😋 just saying 👀

Tag list

⭠ previous | index | next ⭢

Our secret moments in a crowded room They got no idea about me and you Dress – Taylor Swift

Busan

You don't know when it started, but suddenly Jimin's favorite hobby was flirting with you without anyone seeing. More and more he said things that drove you crazy. And you never knew if he was telling the truth or just teasing you.

You walked down the school hallway during your break, looking for Jimin who was in a different room in this class.

You hear a voice calling you and look back. A girl you've only seen a few times at school approaches you with red cheeks. You can't remember her name.

“Hey...“ she says with a little smile.” You're Jimin's friend, right?’

Oh, you knew what this was. She was interested in him. Here we go again.

It was a question she knew the answer to, after all, everyone at school knew that you two were friends.

“Uh, yes, I am.”

“So... can you please give him this note?“ She hands you a small piece of paper. ”It has my name and number written on it.’

“Okay…” you agree a little reluctantly, but she didn't even notice because she was too focused looking behind you.

You really didn't understand that. If she wanted to talk to him so badly, why didn't she just give him the note herself? It would give off more of an air of trust than sending others to do her job. You were too tired of that.

When you turn around, you find Jimin across the hall laughing with some friends. Seriously, she's so silly about this.

You take a deep breath and give her a toothless smile. When you turn back to find Jimin, he's already looking at you, smiling. You walk towards him and Jimin separates from his friends and heads further to the right side of the hallway to meet you.

She watches as you go talk to Jimin.

“Hey” you say smiling as you stop in front of him.

“Hi.” Jimin smiles seductively and you know that smile is what makes girls fall in love.

But you won't fall.

“So…” his gaze goes to your hand holding the note.

“You already know what it is." You roll your eyes and he laughs.

“Give it to me.” He stretches out his hand and you hand him the note. Jimin opens it and takes a look, without taking the shit-eating smile off his face.

Jimin leans close to your ear to speak while looking at the girl.

“I only have eyes for you, you know that. “ Jimin chuckles and you are left speechless.

What?!

He gave the girl a wink, but you couldn't see it.

Jimin puts the paper in his pocket and walks away laughing. You blink a few times and then compose yourself. The girl was almost jumping up and down where you left her waiting.

Within seconds you had to process what happened and come up with an excuse for her, because she was already coming towards you.

“So? What did he say?” she asked excitedly, clasping her hands together.

“It’s...He said he'll send a message.”

You felt bad, but what could you do?

“Oh my god, thank you so much“ she hugs you happily and you don't have time to hug her back before she leaves to meet her friends.

The girl, whose name you didn't even care about, leaves happily to meet her friends and tell them what happened. But you remain almost paralyzed in place, still thinking about Jimin's words.

Seriously, who can handle that? There's no way he could have shaken your foundations with just those words. Even though you reminded yourself every day that you wouldn't fall for his charms. Here you are now, blushing like a 15-year-old (which wasn't that long ago). But that doesn't matter.

When the break is over, you're still thinking about the same thing. And when you walk back into the classroom and see Jimin acting like nothing happened, you almost think you've imagined things.

You can't believe the nerve he has. How could he say that to you and then act like nothing happened?

You sit at a table in front of him, but you don't give him any importance. You take your things out of your bag and start organizing them on the table so you have something to occupy yourself with.

Soon the grammar teacher enters the room, arranging his own desk before starting the class.

You sigh deeply. The last thing you wanted was to have grammar class. But finals are approaching and you can't afford to miss them.

While you're distracted looking through your notebook for the last notes from your grammar class, Jimin leans over his desk behind you. His chin stops just above your shoulder, making you jump in your seat and he pulls away.

“Easy, baby.“ Jimin says softly just for you to hear.

You close your eyes tightly, anger taking over your body.

It's obvious he would make fun of you. And the fact that you reacted exactly the way he wanted makes you even angrier. You wish you had more self-control.

“Don't call me that.” you say through your teeth quietly, only for him to hear too.

Everyone is still talking in the classroom, so almost no one pays attention to your little interaction with Jimin.

“Why not?“ he pauses dramatically. ”Baby?"

You turn around so you can look him in the eye and find Jimin looking a little seductive for a thursday morning grammar class.

Jimin subtly runs his tongue across his mouth and your eyes betray you when they fly straight to his mouth. You hate yourself for this once again. Once again you fell into his game. And Jimin is already smiling when he realizes that for a second you looked at his lips.

“You piece of sh…”

“Well, everyone, let's start today's class. Please be quiet.”

You let out a snort and turn around, not before seeing Jimin staring at your mouth and then quickly at your eyes.

He is unbelievable!

The rest of the class passed by in a torturous manner. You could barely pay attention to the new concepts the teacher was talking about because you were too aware of Jimin's presence behind you.

“Or Jimin really likes you or he's gay.” Yuna says with the calmest face you've ever seen, as if she hadn't just made you almost choke on her words.

“What did you say?”

You have to stop your snack to question her. You heard very well what she said, but you can't believe it.

“That's right, you heard it. Don't pretend you don't see it either.“ She raises an eyebrow, showing that she's not joking about the subject.

You shift uncomfortably on the grass of the schoolyard where you are sitting during break.

“I don't think he's gay…” your mind flies to all the moments you had together and a shiver runs down your legs.

“So he likes you.” she doesn't hesitate to say.

Yuna speaks as if she were saying that the weather is sunny today.

“I don't think that's it either. “ your heart was beating fast in your chest.

“Really? So how do you explain the way he looks at you and the care he only has for you?”

Yuna crosses her arms in front of her body.

“It's just... normal. We're like brothers, we've known each other since childhood.” you start to sweat nervously at your friend's question.

You know she doesn't mean any harm. But you weren't prepared to hear today that Jimin seems to have feelings for you.

Exactly this week. After all the wills you had to go through.

Today really wasn't your day.

“My brother doesn't treat me like that. He's always hitting me and calling me a pig for leaving my towel in the bathroom.” She laughs and you force one too.

“It's just the way he is.”

And you're not lying when you say that. Jimin has a gentle way of being that no one you know has. He's just him.

And you're sure he doesn't treat you in any special way. Jimin is kind to everyone and that's easily noticeable. There's no reason to second-guess yourself because of it.

“Oh stop, tell me you don't have a little crush on him” she pushes your shoulder and waggles her eyebrows.

You stay silent for a few seconds, but she doesn't give you time to question yourself.

“Come on!” she almost whines, while continuing to push you with her shoulder.

“Think about his thick lips and... Oh! His hot ass, jesus!”

“Stop it!”

You two are laughing so hard.

“I don't know. Maybe?” you laugh shyly and she widens her eyes.

As soon as the words leave your mouth you regret them.

This was sure to spark gossip. And you really didn't want people to start bothering you about it. Not after you and Jimin had spent so long denying that you liked each other.

“See? I knew there was something there. Hoseok owes me 10 dollars for this.” she celebrates without even paying attention to your terrified face.

Wait. Hoseok?

“Hoseok owes you? What the hell is this?” your face contorts in confusion.

“Oh, honey, we all bet you two have a crush on each other. I just didn't think it would be that easy to get it out of you. “ She laughs and you get a little irritated.

“You mean you don't care about my feelings?” your tone changes and her playful expression falls.

This is so out of line. You didn't expect your friends to make bets involving the two of you like this.

“Y/n, it's not that. Please don't think about it this way. We all want you to be together, trust me.” she holds your hand and has a genuine expression on her face.

You feel like she's starting to get a little desperate in the way she talks.

“You're already assuming he has some kind of interest in me.”

You play dumb to her, even though you know that Jimin is interested in you. But you think that maybe it's not like that. You think that what you two do is just a fun pastime and that it doesn't mean anything deeper than that.

And you know that for you, things are becoming problematic. But maybe for Jimin, it's just fun to have a girl available for him to kiss. And being you, someone he knows, makes everything easier.

And deep down, really deep down, you'd like to hear from an outsider that Jimin seems to like you. Somehow it comforts your heart and your ego, even if you have to ask him directly to be sure. But obviously you're not going to do that.

“Oh, come on. Everyone can see that he has a huge crush on you.”

Your face heats up once more at her words.

“I don't think so.”

“Seriously? Everyone has already noticed you two being clingy with each other. Oh chimchim this, mimi that“ she does a terrible imitation of your voice and you push her aside.

‘Stop it. I'm not like that.” you start laughing, because it's ridiculous.

And it's true.

“Of course it is. Ugh, I can't stand you two, seriously. I wish I had someone like that for myself.”

She rolls her eyes and you both start laughing.

It had been a while since you had shared something so intimate with someone other than Jimin.

Sometimes it was nice to have a girl talk.

“But seriously, is there nothing going on between you two?’ she nibbles on the cookies you are eating.

You stop and think.

It had really been a long time since you had any girl talk. What harm would it do to have some of that now?

You needed that escape.

“Okay, if I tell you, will you promise me two things? “ you say, uncertain, but already implying that you have a secret.

She widens her eyes and finishes chewing the cookie.

“Sure, I promise you even three." You laugh at her face. ”Seriously, no bets now.”

You straighten up on the grass you're sitting on.

“First you have to promise not to tell anyone.”

“Of course.”

“Second, please don't freak out too much about it. It's really no big deal.”

You know it's a big deal.

“Okay…” she analyzes you, waiting for you to continue.

“Seriously, don't tell anyone.”

“Just say it already”

“So... we've already, um, kissed “ you fiddle with your fingers looking down, because you're dying of embarrassment.

Her jaw drops and she even drops the cookie she was holding.

“I knew it! I knew soo much! My God.”

You glared at her.

“Alright, alright, no freaking out.”

She tries to control herself.

“When did it happen? Like, how? Oh my god, there are so many questions.”

She looks like a crazy person looking at you.

“Okay, calm down. It's not a big deal, it's just kisses.”

“Kisses? In plural?”

Shit.

You cover your face with your hands, blushing. You're starting to think you've said too much.

“You're so dirty! I can't believe you gave kisses to Park Jimin! “ she slaps you on the arm

“It's no big deal, I swear.”

“Okay, but how did this happen? Tell me the details, for God’s sake.”

She shakes you by the arm.

“I don't know. It just happened. I won't tell you too many details…”

“Urgh, okay. But... when was the last time you guys kissed?’

You pause, wondering if you should tell her. She looks at you with a dramatic look, as if to say, “just spill it.”

“Y-yesterday”

Her jaw dropped for the tenth time today. You blushed again.

“Yesterday?! That's insane.”

“Keep your voice down, everyone will hear you.”

You look around suspiciously.

“You're so in love!”

“That's not it!”

“Oh, it is! My God, you guys are so stupid.”

You start to pack your things because the break is almost over. But really you just wanted an excuse to get out of this subject. You're starting to get nervous.

“I shouldn't have told you that.”

“Hey!”

She takes you by the shoulders and makes you face her.

“It's alright, okay?” she looks deep into his eyes, seeing the desperation.” It's okay to like someone, even if it's your best friend.”

You try to let go of her because your heart starts to tighten and you don't want to start crying in the middle of the courtyard.

“He likes you too.”

She says in a last attempt to make you listen.

“This won't lead to anything.”

“Have you told him how you feel?”

She's getting up too and you kind of turn your back, grabbing your backpack.

“There's nothing to say.”

“Y/n…”

“Enough, okay? I don't want to talk about this anymore.”

She looks a little sad, but she understands your request.

“Okay. Just know that I will always support you.”

Your heart softens a little, despite the erratic beats it's making.

“Thank you, really.”

“And I won’t tell Hoseok that I won the bet.”

You slap her arm and she starts laughing.

And you walk together to your next class, with time running out and arriving 5 minutes late.

After all the talk with Yuna, you suddenly became very aware of Jimin's presence and all his actions towards you.

And deep down you wish he liked you too.

Jimin is researching dance schools on the computer in his room. The research has been long and he hasn't been happy with some of the comments. Jimin watched some videos explaining how the selection process works for most schools, and some of the comments on the videos complained about the strict rules of these places.

A random comment said:

Kot878: These places are tough on training. And they don't even let you date!

That couldn't be true, right? About the training maybe, but they couldn't forbid them from dating, right?

Jimim got nervous. He knew he wasn't dating anyone, but he couldn't help but fantasize about it. What if you liked him too? Maybe you could date, right?

Jimin was paralyzed looking at that comment, when he heard the sound of footsteps and the door to his room was quickly opened.

“Boo”

Jimin gets scared by you and quickly closes the browser window.

"Shit! Knock before entering.”

“What are you doing? Watching porn?” you giggle and move closer to him.

Jimin was already nervous because you almost caught him looking at that information, after what you said he got even more nervous.

“O-of course not. Are you idiot?”

“Then why did you close the browser window?”

You raise an eyebrow at him and move closer to the computer.

“I was just looking at some dance schools.”

And suddenly you forgot that you were questioning him. Your face lit up with his words and you became excited.

“Really? And how is it going?”

You sit on his bed, waiting for him to answer.

“I haven’t found any nearby yet.”

Jimin wasn’t lying. But that random information he read in a comment left a huge doubt in his head. He would have to look better after you left.

“Hm, but you can move to another city if you get in”

But what about you? Would you stay apart?

“But...”

“I could go with you.”

“What!? No.” Jimin says quickly. He didn’t want to change cities.

“Don’t you want me to come with you?” you pout looking at him.

“No, it’s not that. I don’t want to have to move to another city.” Jimin exhales. This whole situation of looking for dance schools has been stressing him out.

“Well, but maybe that’s the only option”

You’re probably right.

“I’ll take a better look later.”

You nod, swinging your feet over the edge of his bed.

“So, what are you doing here?”

You suddenly remember why you came here.

“I need you to teach me how to study.”

“But your grades are good, right? There’s no need for me to teach you.”

“No! I need to do even better this time. My parents will give me the album of the band I like if I do well.”

He gets up from his chair and walks over to you on the bed, coming closer and making you lean back on your arms.

“You enter a boy's room very freely.”

You swallow. He looks so serious. You feel a little nervous at the sudden change in mood.

“It's just you.”

“And?”

“I-I trust you.”

Jimin remains in the same position, too close to you and analyzing you. He thinks that you still don't see him as a man, even though you've kissed several times.

“What is that?”

You look so pretty like this, with a slightly flushed and confused face. Jimin can only think that he wants to kiss you everywhere. But he doesn't want to pressure you and you end up thinking that he's going too far. What if you stop talking to him? He wouldn't be able to stand that.

Then he rethinks and walks away from you.

“Just... Don't go into boys' rooms like that.”

Jimin sits next to you on the bed, not looking at your face. You get more nervous. What did he mean by that?

“Uhh, okay?”

You actually thought he was going to kiss you again for a few seconds. And honestly, you really wanted him to.

You couldn't muster up enough courage to say that you came here not only because you wanted him to teach you how to study better, but because you wanted to be with him. And maybe... you could get some kisses from him.

“What subjects do you need help with?”

“We can start with math.”

You're trying to memorize the stages of cell division in the library, but you can't figure out how to make it happen logically. You keep forgetting the order all the time and it's already stressing you out.

Pro meta ana tel... That's it! You got it-

“So, have you guys done it yet?” Yuna whispers, sitting next to you.

You write down the logical sentence in your notebook and are happy with your idea. You barely paid attention to what Yuna said, focusing your attention on the logic you just created.

“Yeah, we already did the work—”

“You guys had sex!?”

“What? Oh my god, Yuna, I was talking about the history work”

Your voice gets a little loud from the shock you got from Yuna's words. Some of your classmates give you two ugly looks. Your face is already hot and Yuna's eyes are wide open as she stares at you.

“My God, I say. You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Stop thinking nonsense and study!” you look away from her and point to the notebooks, organizing your study sheets that don’t need to be organized.

“I’m tired of studying. And your life is cooler than mine, so I want to know more.”

She rests her face in her hands and pouts. You really can’t stand it.

“Stop thinking about it.”

“I can’t.”

“You’re disgusting, you know that?”

“Why? It’s normal to do these things.”

Once again, the subject is turning to things you really don’t want to talk about right now, and certainly not in the middle of the library. You feel like you two are going to be thrown out of the library any minute.

You take a deep breath and try to speak as quietly as possible, and in a way that Yuna will end the damn subject.

“We’re not going to do…that.”

“Why not?”

She looks like a child like that.

“Let's focus on studying, hm?”

She snorts.

“Give me some love advice.”

“Stop changing the subject.”

You grab a sheet of paper with notes and hand it to her.

“Seriously.” She takes the paper and looks at it without interest. “Maybe I like Hoseok.”

“Hobi? Oh my God, I knew this was weird.”

Now it’s your turn to disconnect from your studies. She never told you that.

“And we kissed.”

What? What the hell?

Yuna says it like it's no big deal, still analyzing the sheet you handed her without interest. Now you're totally into the subject, you don't want to study anymore.

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You don’t tell me anything about your life.”

“That’s a lie. I told you things I’ve never told anyone.”

“Hey, you two. Be quiet.” The librarian snaps at you and you flinch, nodding.

Yuna comes closer and tries to speak more quietly.

“Well, I’ll only tell you if you tell me what’s going on between you two.”

Yuna shrugs, as if she’s not blackmailing you for information. You can’t believe her nerve. You have nothing interesting to say about this.

“There really isn’t anything going on between us.”

She looks at you with a “seriously?” face and you sigh for the infinite time.

“We just like to kiss each other, that’s it. Now tell me about Hobi.”

She gives up and then starts talking.

“So, we kissed the other day and...”

“You two. I’m going to ask you to find another place to study.”

And you feel so embarrassed about being kicked out of the library that you end the subject there. You really needed to memorize the content for the test.

At the beginning of your 18th birthday, things start to get a little out of control.

“We should stop doing this... “ you say, but your voice isn't confident at all. Not when he's kissing your neck like that.

“This what?”

And on top of that, Jimin plays dumb. He wants to see you admit what you're doing.

He continues to place delicate kisses along your neck and up to your ear. Your heart is already beating hard inside your chest with all the excitement he is causing you.

“This!”

You grab him by the shoulders and pull him away. You were sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard with your notebooks spread out on the mattress. His gaze, his full lips, everything is too tempting for you and your eyes waver. He knows you want to continue.

“Why should we?” he asks, almost pouting.

His voice destroys you. You never imagined you would see him so full of lust. He does it on purpose because he knows how much it affects you.

“We're not focusing on our studies.“ and his eyes couldn't stop looking at his lips.

That wasn't exactly why you thought you should stop this, but it was still true.

It was your senior year of high school. You decided to come home with the excuse that you were going to study for the biology test that would be first thing in the morning tomorrow. And here you were, making out in your room instead of studying.

This whole situation was taking on proportions you hadn't imagined. You both didn't know exactly how it started, but before you knew it, you were already kissing. Neither of you wanted to think too much about it and how far it could go. You were afraid to think about the barriers you could cross if the emotion took over too much.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, you were always interrupted when things were getting too heated. And internally you thanked God, because the fear of making that decision was too much..

You two were almost always getting caught and it became a routine.

“I think we're studying biology very well.” he said in a naughty tone.

And there's that mischievous little smile of his that takes you apart. His hands are already on your waist without you realizing it, squeezing lightly and bringing you closer to him, inviting you to sit on his lap, but not doing so yet.

“Okay, 5 more minutes. But we need to focus, seriously!”

Jimin smiles triumphantly because he knows he won. He doesn't waste any more time, knowing that you really need to focus on your studies after this. He pushes his notebooks aside in a desperate way and it makes you laugh.

Jimin's thoughts are so clouded by lust that he can only think of one thing. So he leaves reason aside.

“Sit on my lap.”

“What?” you get a little nervous with his request, not knowing how to act.

“Come”

His hands push you around the waist and you follow the movement, sitting forward on his lap. His back is against the headboard while his hands caress your legs.

You try not to think too much about the position you're in. You're afraid you won't be able to control yourself when it comes to Jimin. He has a seductive way that only grows as the years go by.

Your lips meet again and your hands caress his soft hair. Everything about him is soft: his hair, his lips, his heart. And you are so addicted that you can't even think straight.

His tongue enters your mouth and you let out a soft sigh. Jimin chuckles as he kisses you, his hands moving from your legs to your hips and then grabbing your waist. He kisses you harder and pushes you down onto his lap. A surprised moan leaves your mouth because you can feel how turned on he is just from kissing you like this.

You're already aroused, too. In fact, you're pretty sure you're already soaking wet. Your parts are screaming for some friction, any movement that will ease that growing throb.

The caresses of his delicate fingers together with his increasingly skilled tongue in your mouth makes you lose self-control and start rubbing yourself on his lap.

You move just enough for that throbbing to stop bothering you. But his kiss is addictive and his hands caress you in such a light way that it makes you lose all the self-control you should have.

His hands holding your hips encourage you to continue rubbing yourself on his lap. Jimin sighs, also affected by the way you are grinding on top of him. He feels like he could explode with lust. Your flushed face, with your lips slightly parted, letting out sighs, is certainly the most erotic image he has ever seen in his life.

The way his hard erection rubs right against your most sensitive spot makes you close your eyes tightly. Slowly letting low moans escape your lips as you still kiss awkwardly.

“Do you like this?”

Jimin kisses your cheek, collarbone, behind your ear, your neck in several parts. He seems to be adoring you and at that moment it was all you needed the most.

“Oh-yes”

You grip his shoulders as you use more strength to shift on his lap. His legs bend to bring you closer, pressing you completely against him.

You can feel the pleasure growing in the pit of your stomach, but the insecurity of finishing in front of him starts to hit you harder. Your moans start to come out without your control and Jimin can sense it. He knows you're controlling yourself, by the way your eyes are closed and your eyebrows are furrowed.

He holds the back of your neck and kisses you. His other hand is on your hip pushing you down while his hips also work to pleasure you.

When you feel him pushing his hips against your core, you know you've already lost. Within seconds of this friction, you feel your orgasm building inside your belly. When you both push together once more, you feel the explosion of orgasm. Your moans can no longer be contained by his kisses. Your walls tighten around nothing and give you a feeling of satisfaction, but emptiness at the same time.

Your hands grip Jimin's shoulders tightly as you still rub yourself against his erection.

“Ah, Jimin…”

Jimin is in heaven listening to you softly moan his name over and over again. He swears he could have cum just from that if it weren't for the underwear and sweatpants squeezing him so tightly.

When you calm down, it still takes a few seconds for you to open your eyes and finally look at him.

You can't believe you just had an orgasm in front of Jimin. Something so intimate and so personal that you just shared it with him, your best friend.

"Did you finish?” Jimin asks, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

You feel his other hand caressing your back, trying to relax you.

It takes you a long few seconds to gather the courage to say yes.

“I'm happy” Jimin kisses your cheek.

You don't get it.

“Why?”

“Because I made you feel good, right?”

You stay silent, staring at him and thinking how he can be so amazing.

At the same time your mind remembers that he is also horny and that he is probably dying because of it right now. You need to do something for him too. You want to do something for him.

“And you? How can I make you feel good?” your face automatically heats up.

“You don't have to do that” he gives a little smile. ”And we still need to finish studying” he looks around, at the mess that is the bedspread and at the study papers that fell on the floor.

“But I want to”

And you really do. But Jimin is hesitant and you can feel it. You just can't quite put your finger on why.

You don't realize it, but what Jimin has is insecurity. He's afraid of forcing you or that you're forcing yourself to do it for him. Maybe you can't even imagine him that way.

Just the idea that you might be forcing him to do this makes him lose his excitement.

When Jimin looks into your eyes again, you take him by surprise, kissing him. Both of your hands go to his face, caressing him as you kiss.

You pull away from him and let your foreheads touch.

“Show me how I can make you feel good too.”

Jimin sees sincerity in your eyes. So, he lets down his walls of insecurity and agrees to let you do it.

Something so simple and that any boy wouldn't hesitate to let a girl do. But he can't be like that. Jimin could never use someone just for his pleasure. He doesn't work that way.

“Okay…”

You sit a little further away, but still on top of his thighs. Just enough so that you can see the bulge in his pants.

Jimin guides your hand to the bulge between his legs and you touch it hesitantly. It's warm and hard and you gasp in surprise. Jimin doesn't miss a moment of your reactions.

You start to caress him over his pants, hesitant and embarrassed. You feel his eyes burning into you. Jimin analyzes your every move.

But you want more. You want to feel and see what it's like.

“Can I touch...?”

“You're touching.”

“Not like this.”

Jimin bites his lips.

You're going to drive him crazy like this.

Jimin takes your hand and puts it on the waistband of his pants. He doesn't stop to think about the situation, otherwise he would lose his courage. And deep down, you're also thinking the same thing.

You help him pull down his sweatpants and underwear, freeing his hard, hot member that rests against Jimin's belly.

You try not to look too surprised, but it's practically impossible. You swallow him with your eyes. This is the first time you've seen a dick in real life.

“What?” Jimin asks, a little embarrassed.

A thousand thoughts run through his head. You didn't like it? Was it what you expected? Maybe you think he is small?

He shifts uncomfortably on the bed and you look at him and notice his discomfort. Finally you answer.

“Nothing, it's... it's just the first time I've seen a... uh…”

“Dick?”

You close your eyes for a second at the way he talks. So dirty and different.

“Yeah…”

You don’t know how to say this, but Jimin is incredible. The shape and size, the veins covering him, the pink, leaking tip. You didn’t know you could get this turned on. Your eyes are glued to him.

“Do you like it?”

“Oh, yes.” You say promptly.

Jimin feels a weight lift off his shoulders when he hears you responding so enthusiastically.

“You can touch.”

You bit your lip and reached out to touch him for the first time. You felt him in your hand, warm and hard. It was the first time you were touching him like this and also the first time you had touched anyone like this.

Your fingers closed around his cock and you tested how tight you could get. Jimin immediately closed his eyes and moaned. You glanced up at him, surprised by the sound he made.

Your heart started pounding in your chest and you felt that pulse return to your core. You could never imagine how sexy Jimin would look moaning like that and it definitely turned you on. You wanted to see more of this.

You start to move back and forth carefully, not sure if you should do it that way. You lick your lips and look at him. His eyes are glued to you, practically swallowing you.

“Here, squeeze like this.” He wraps his fingers together with yours and squeezes hard, showing you how much pressure you can apply.

Another moan escapes his lips, but this time Jimin continues to look directly at you.

“Now do it like this” he guides your hand up and down his cock, while he doesn't take his eyes off yours. ”Oh, that's it, just like that.” he moans with satisfaction when you take the rhythm by yourself.

You are fascinated by him. His moans encourage you to continue. Your hand quickly moves up and down his cock.

Jimin is lost in the vision he has of you giving him pleasure. He can't control his mind with the various dirty scenes he imagines the two of you doing.

Your eyes alternate between looking at his cock and watching his reactions. You want to lick it but you're afraid it'll be too much, so you settle for giving him pleasure with just your hand.

“I'm close…”

Jimin moans louder and you feel your parts contracting. It's so exciting to know that he's moaning like this because of you. You feel powerful and confident.

You squeeze him tighter in your hand and the noise is loud and sticky. His hand goes to your face and lifts your chin, caressing your jaw.

“You're so beautiful-oh”

You let out a soft moan because your wrist is starting to hurt, but you don't want to stop. Jimin looks like he's about to cum and you don't want to miss that scene.

Suddenly, you hear the front door creaking. You hear your mother calling your name from the living room, along with the sound of keys being dropped on the counter. Your eyes almost pop out of your head when you look at Jimin.

You quickly pull away.

Jimin stands up and pulls up his underwear along with his pants and tries to fix his hair, which is a mess.

Yours is also a mess and you try to tie it in a ponytail. As soon as you tie your hair, you pick up the notebooks that are thrown on the floor and try to fix the pages that fell.

Jimin sits at his computer desk with a notebook in his hand. He tries to adjust his erection that is painfully pressing inside his pants. He crosses his legs to try to hide it. Jimin runs his hand through his hair, smoothing it back and notices that his forehead is sweaty. He tries to wipe it off while you climb into bed and arrange your study materials.

Your mother knocks on the door at the same time and enters the room. She is surprised to see the two of you, but if she noticed anything, she didn't show it on her face.

“Ah, you're here. How dedicated. ” She says, smiling at the two of you.

“Good afternoon, ma'am.”

“Hi, mom. You're early today.” your voice comes out a little breathless and Jimin gives you a quick look, without your mother noticing.

“Oh yeah. I didn't have much work today so I ended up leaving early.” she explains and you agree. “What are you studying?”

Your mother's eyes scan your notebooks. You swallow.

“Biology”

It wasn't a lie.

But due to the events of a few minutes ago, this information suddenly seemed very funny.

Jimin does his best with his head down on his notebooks to keep from bursting out laughing. The last thing you need right now is to make a mistake in front of your mother.

“Oh, really?” your mother says. ”Next time, study in the living room okay? “ she looks at you two and winks.

Soon she leaves the door and leaves it leaning against it, you and Jimin with your eyes almost popping out of their sockets.

You look at each other and start to laugh softly. You cover your mouth with your hand.

You feel so dirty but at the same time so alive. You can't understand it, you just feel a sense of happiness.

“Do you think she noticed?” Jimin asks

“Well, your hair is practically dripping.” you point out and he quickly starts running his hand through his hair. “I don't think she thinks it's that hard to study biology” you laugh a little

Jimin laughs as he finishes fixing his hair. Your hair isn't perfect either, but the ponytail disguised it a bit. What couldn't be disguised were your completely red cheeks, but that's just a detail.

“We didn't lie, at least.” Jimin says, shrugging.

You throw a pillow at him. He's so cheeky sometimes.

“Let's study for real now!”

You try to sound bossy but it doesn't come out as expected. But Jimin finds your mannerisms cute and agrees.

“Yes, ma'am!”

You really need to focus on something other than reflecting on the events from now.

Things have flowed at such a natural and pressure-free pace that you don’t feel as guilty as you thought you would. And most of all, you trust Jimin, so things are kinda okay.

The thing that bothers you and stayed in your head even when you were already taking a shower to go to bed at night is: things are moving forward gradually and that would be fine, if you weren't best friends.

And your head starts spinning because all of this started under the pretext that you were practicing your first kiss, but look at it now.

You really try not to think about it too much, but as soon as you lay your head on the pillow, the only thing that goes through your mind is: aren't we going too far?

As soon as Jimin enters the classroom early in the morning, the teacher calls on him for a few seconds before starting the class.

“Jimin, I need to talk to you. Please stay at the end of the class” the academic planning teacher says and takes Jimin by surprise.

Jimin agrees and goes to sit in class right behind you. You didn't see him go talk to the teacher because you were talking to the guys and he didn't have time to tell you because class started right after.

He couldn't get it out of his head even during class. Jimin already knew more or less what the teacher was going to say, but he was still nervous. He knew that time was running out and he needed to make a decision about it soon.

At the end of class, you gather your things and wait for Jimin. Everyone has already left but Jimin is still taking a long time.

“Come on, Mimi!”

Jimin is slower than usual. And quieter than usual. You didn't know why. You wanted to ask him on the way home.

“I'm going to have to stay here.”

You don't understand.

“Why?” your face wrinkles in confusion.

Jimin lifts his face and looks at you, he has a serious expression on his face.

“I have a meeting with the academic planning teacher.’

Now you understand. That means it's time for him to decide which dance school he wants to go to, so he can send in his documents and apply. Your heart starts beating faster.

“Oh, that's good, right? Is it about the dance school you want to go to?”

“Yeah…”

You notice that there's something strange about him. Why isn't he happy about this?

“What's wrong with you?”

“It's nothing, I'm just nervous.”

You give him a small smile and move closer to him. It's a big decision, you understand why he's nervous.

“It’s okay, Mimi. I’m sure everything will be fine.”

You know you’re closer than you should be because you can smell his scent and the warmth of his body. But there’s no one around right now and you let yourself be. To be honest, you’re a little tired of pretending you’re not that close in front of others.

Jimin gives you a sad smile. And all he can see are your eyes shining with excitement for him.

If you only knew...

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank me”

The room is empty and the school is starting to get quiet because everyone has already rushed out to leave.

Jimin comes closer to you and seals your lips for a few seconds. You are so surprised that you don't even have time to close your eyes.

“For luck”

And you blush.

“I'll go first then.”

Jimin agrees with you and you say goodbye.

"I really think you should apply to that dance school in Seoul, Jimin. It's your best chance, even if it's far away."

Jimin considers the teacher's words, his hands sweating coldly in his lap. Jimin knows the teacher is right, but he doesn't know what to say to that. He hadn't anticipated this whole situation, this whole sudden change of scenery.

He couldn't imagine living in another city alone.

“I know it's a big step to live away from your parents, but you should consider this possibility if it's really your dream.”

Jimin just agrees with everything the teacher says, but he can't say much, even though he's thinking a thousand things at the same time.

"And with your grades and your talent, I'm sure you'll get in."

Jimin is happy, really. But some things hold him back, despite his happiness. And he feels conflicted about his feelings.

When he gets home that day, he knows he's already made up his mind. He just doesn't know how to tell you. And even though you said you'd go with him, he knows that wouldn't be a reality. Your parents are too strict about letting you go to college far from home.

Jimin decides to wait a little longer to tell you about it.

#jimin smut #bts x reader #jimin x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts au #bts x you #bts imagines #jimin x y/n #jimin x you #taehyung x reader #taehyung x y/n

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mischievouslittlecreature · 10 hours ago

Text

Part 26: Do You Love Me

Summary: Things escalate to the point of complete and utter disaster.

Word Count: 5,593

Warnings: MAJOR angst, a suicide attempt, insecurity, depression, suicidal thoughts, self harm, and blood.

Notes: Please prepare yourselves before reading this one, guys. I'm not joking around with the warnings here (not that I ever am, but you know what I mean). Also I apologize profusely in advance for what's about to happen.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 16: Battered & Mangled

Lucy twisted her hands together, feeling vaguely sick with nerves. Silence stretched on between her and Tommy, each of them waiting for the other to speak first.

“I called you,” he said, finally. “Earlier.”

“You did?” Fingers ran through her red hair, tugging on the locks anxiously. “Sorry. I was out with Asher. Did something happen?”

He stood from the chair he was collapsed in, grabbing more kindling to feed into the fire. “Polly resigned.”

That startled her a bit. “Oh?”

“Mhm.” He looked so…lost. Blue eyes staring pointedly out into the dark of the night.

“Was it because of Michael?” she pressed.

“I’m not here to talk about Polly,” Tommy said, voice suddenly stern. She looked down at her feet.

“Right.”

No more avoiding things. They both needed to have their heads clear for the events that were about to unfold. And it had become clear that just attempting to ignore their current situation to deal with later wasn’t going to achieve that.

And…she had promised him that they would talk about things.

She’d have suggested they go inside, into the living quarters that Charlie had been letting her stay in. But she didn’t really want anyone eavesdropping in on their conversation.

More silence stretched out between them, long and dark and endless. She jumped when Tommy’s hand touched her cheek, tilting her head up to look at him where he was now standing in front of her. She hadn’t even heard him move.

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” she said softly, eyes staring up into his.

“So come home.”

Her face crumpled. “I can’t.” It was barely more than a whisper.

“Why?”

“You know why, Tom.”

“No; no I don’t think that I do.” His voice was low and soft like honey. Tempting. “So tell me. Please. Help me understand. We can figure something out. If we just sit down and talk about it–”

“Talk about what, Tommy? About what days you and I are allowed to spend the night together? I don’t want to live like that. To be…the dirty little secret that you keep around to fuck you when your wife isn’t available.”

His brow furrowed, almost in confusion. Like the thought had never even occurred to him. “You would never be that. You’re not some whore I keep around for when I get bored, Lucy. And besides, I told you, I fixed that. She’s fine with us being together whenever–”

“You expect me to believe that’ll last? With her pattern of behavior? This is how it’s always worked with her, Tommy. She’s all nice and smiles and sweetness until something sets her off, and then I’m suddenly the big bad monster who’s stealing her husband. What happens the next time she has one of her fits? Hm? When she comes back asking for even more? Now that you’ve given her this, what’s going to stop her from asking for even more restrictions on what you can and can’t do with me? How long before you can’t even touch me at all without it breaking some rule that she’s come up with?”

“I won’t let that happen–”

“Yeah, well you already let this fucking happen,” she snapped back. Tommy’s eyes widened. She drew in a trembling breath, turning away, fighting back every urge to just shout at him. A lump formed in her throat. She forced herself to swallow it down.

“You chose to leave,” Tommy said sternly. “That wasn’t part of Lizzie’s rules. That wasn’t something that I wanted. You decided to do that, Lucy.”

“And I’ve told you over and over again why I had to do that. Lizzie and I can’t live in such close quarters with each other all the time. She can barely even stand to see you touch me, Tommy.”

“That’s her fucking problem.”

“No, it’s not! Not when her reaction to it affects all of us! This,” she gestured widely, “was the only solution.”

“A solution where everyone ends up miserable?”

“Oh, please,” she snapped, voice beginning to rise. “Don’t act like Lizzie isn’t fucking thrilled now that I’m gone and she gets to finally play out the happy fucking family fantasy that she’s always wanted. I’m not blind, I’ve seen how much happier you’ve been lately. Don’t act like it isn’t better now that I’m gone.”

“It’s not. It’s fucking awful there, Lucy. I’m not happier. I don’t know what I did to make you think that I am, but I’m not. I’m so…I’m so fucking lonely without you.” His voice started to rise as well, but he drew in a deep breath when she looked away, eyes focusing on the dark waters of the cut. When he spoke again his voice was softer. “And what about you, eh? Are you happier, now that you’ve moved out?” He took a cautious step towards her. “Michael said that you’re miserable.”

“You shouldn’t listen to anything that Michael says.”

“He’s right, though. Isn’t he?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters. I don’t want you to be unhappy, love.” Another step, so that he was close enough for her to smell the scent of cigarette smoke and his cologne. Tommy rubbed a hand over his face, looking at her with scrutinizing eyes. “Why did you really leave, Lucy? Because I don’t believe it was just about Lizzie’s rules. There’s something else going on. I can see it in your eyes.” There was a desperation in his gaze that she wasn’t used to seeing. “Just tell me.” She looked away again, hands wringing together frantically. Tommy’s face twitched with frustration. “If I have to live the rest of my life without you then I think that I at least deserve to know why.” She pressed her lips together, squeezing her eyes shut tight. It was unclear whether she wanted to cry or shout at him. Tommy seemed to soften a little, reigning in his frustration to gently touch her hand, stilling her relentless fidgeting.

“Please. I know I fucked up. Just…help me understand. If I understand why you left, then I can find some way to fix this…”

“Maybe there is no fixing this,” she said defeatedly with a shrug. The frustration in Tommy’s face returned, face twisting as he struggled to reign in his temper.

“So…what? You’re just going to give up, is that what’s happening here? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like I’m the only one who’s actually still fighting for us.”

“What?” Her anger was cold in her veins, rushing and bubbling just beneath her skin. Huh. It seemed that Polly had been right. She was angry at him.

“I’m the one who’s been renegotiating with Lizzie. I’m the one trying to find an actual fucking solution to this mess. You keep saying that everything is fine, promising that we will work things out. And yet I’ve been practically begging you to talk to me about this since it happened, and all you’ve done is avoid and ignore me. I’ve been trying, Lucy. Trying to talk to you, to still be with you, and you’ve done nothing but push me away.”

“Don’t you talk about fighting for us when you all but rolled over for Lizzie when she asked you to throw a grenade in the middle of our relationship to make her happy. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Tommy, but we are in the middle of a dangerous conspiracy to assassinate an MP, not to mention plugging up leaks, and dodging all of our other enemies that have been coming at us from every possible angle. So excuse me for trying to put the good of the company and the family over our personal issues.”

“No, don’t you fucking do that! Don’t act like you couldn’t have spared one lunch, one goddamn hour, to talk about this with me!”

She scoffed, shaking her head. “Why? So I get to hear again about how you chose her over me?”

Never before had she really considered herself to be a jealous person. But perhaps it was because she hadn’t ever felt like her place in Tommy’s heart was being threatened. He had shared all of his other lovers with her. And she had always known, without a single bit of doubt in her mind, that she was and always would be Tommy’s favorite. That he loved her. Because she was the only one that he let into his head. That he told his darkest, most closely kept secrets to. The only one allowed to actually touch his heart.

Grace had been different. Because the three of them had all loved each other. Grace had simply become an addition to their pairing. And she had always ensured that Lucy had felt included. Not once did she try to usurp Lucy or steal Tommy away from her. Like Lizzie had.

Difficult as things had been with Lizzie, Lucy had managed to make peace with the arrangement. At least outside of the relentless guilt she felt every time she so much as looked into Lizzie’s heartbroken eyes. And maybe there was a particularly awful part of her that almost enjoyed the knowledge that while Tommy may spend his nights with Lizzie out of duty, he spent the ones he did with her out of love.

But now that she knew Tommy did not love her anymore, everything had been thrown into disarray. She had begun to wonder if perhaps that was why, despite his previous words about fighting for them, he had not really fought for her at all when he’d struck that new deal with Lizzie. Even if he didn’t love Lizzie, did it really matter? He had still chosen her. To throw Lucy and their relationship into uncertainty all in the name of making Lizzie happy.

She didn’t want to be angry with him, but now that she had cracked open that little box she had stuffed all of her fury towards him in, it seemed incapable of anything other than spilling out.

“What? No, no, no, that’s not what happened. You know I don’t love her. You know that.” Tommy’s voice was shocked, near panicked in response to her words.

“Then why did you do this to us, Tommy!?”

“I was drunk! Alright!? I was drunk off my ass. I wasn’t thinking. I was trying to get the information out of her of where Linda was for Arthur. And…Lizzie’s useful. I saw an opportunity to keep her around and I took it.”

She shook her head, pulling away from him, still too angry and hurt. “Oh, yes. That makes me feel so much better! Good to know that my place in your life is worth trading for a morsel of information.”

He flinched. “That’s not what I meant.” He reached out to touch her face, but she pulled away.

“Isn’t it?” she spat out bitterly.

He reached out, grasping her cheeks in his hands. “Love, no. I made a mistake. I fucked up, but I was not choosing her over you.”

“Stop it.” She pulled her face back, leaving his hands grasping at air.

“Stop what?” The genuine confusion in his voice just made her angrier.

“Stop acting like you care so damn much! You want so badly to know why I left? I left because I couldn’t stand to live in a house where I was clearly so unwanted!”

Tommy reared back like she had slapped him. “Unwan–Lucy, what are you talking about?”

“God, Tommy!” she pushed away from him, pacing back and forth across the small space protected from the rain. “You made that deal with Lizzie. Either you knew what it would mean for you and me, or you didn’t even think of me at all.” She wasn’t sure which was worse. “Neither of you even thought to talk to me about it. Do you realize how…how…that feels!? To have your lover strike an arrangement that directly affects you without even including you in the discussion about it at all!? And–on top of all that–with someone who has done nothing but bully you and do everything in her power to make you miserable for years!?”

“That’s-that’s not fair–” Tommy protested.

“Not fair? Not fair!? I’ll tell you what isn’t fucking fair, Thomas. What’s not fair is that I’m the one person who’s always been there for you and yet I’m the one that gets thrown out like garbage while she gets you for the rest of your lives!” She had to ball her hands up into fists to keep them from shaking. “I am so…fucking angry with you! You make this deal with Lizzie without even thinking of me, then you blindside me about it when we’re about to go into a fucking work meeting. You try to make it better by treating me more like your mistress or your personal whore than your lover–”

“Now, hang on just a fucking minute–”

“Shut up!” she practically screamed at him. Tommy gaped at her. In all their years together, she had never spoken to him like that.

“You leave me to greet guests at your own fucking dinner party and to deal with Mosley alone while you’re too busy off fucking your wife, and then to top it all off, you replace me at my job with a man who hasn’t even held a rifle in years!”

“We talked about that! I told you, it’s just for this one job, and that’s it!” Now Tommy was shouting too.

“That isn’t the point, Tommy! I’m replaceable! You’ve proven that with Lizzie, and again with Barney!” Her voice cracked a bit, the tears beginning to well in her eyes faster than she could force them down. The feelings of worthlessness and rejection nearly choked her. Tommy stared at her for a moment, mouth open slightly, brow furrowed, eyes blazing with a combination of hurt and fury.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” he said finally. His voice was level, no longer shouting, but she knew him well enough to recognize the wrath and frustration beneath his tone. “Love, I don’t know how else to tell you this, you are not being replaced.” Head shaking, he stalked back and forth before turning to her, finger raised. “You keep talking like you think that this is what I wanted. You think I ever wanted to hurt you? Do you really think that I wanted,” he gestured vaguely, “any of this!?” He must have seen something in her face, because he took a step forward, face twisting with conviction. “You think that I wanted Lizzie to get pregnant!? You think that I wanted to have to marry her? You think that I would have done any of it, if I had known that it would cost me you!?” His voice was loud enough to echo a little in the space around them. Lucy forced herself to not break eye contact with him, even as her body trembled with the sobs she was fighting hard to stifle. “You said…you said that you were okay with it,” he added weakly. “I asked you, before I proposed to Lizzie.”

“I know. I know, I did, Tom. And I was. But that was before…” she trailed off, tears running down her face. Tommy reached out a hand to try to touch her cheek, to wipe them away, but she pulled back, away from him.

“Before what?”

“It doesn’t matter.” She looked away, still unable to bring herself to actually say it.

“Yes, it does.” He waited for her to say more, sighing defeatedly when she didn’t. He was searching her eyes for something. Whatever he was looking for, he didn’t seem to find it, sighing and dropping to sit down in the chair by the fire, head in his hands.

“You promised,” he croaked, after finally raising his face, “when you left that we would still be together. That we weren’t splitting up. But that hasn’t seemed to be true at all, Lucy.”

She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself, tears still leaking from her eyes.

“Tell me what you’re thinking. Please. Did you mean it, when you said that? Or were you just telling me what you thought I wanted to hear?” Something frighteningly resigned filtered into those ice blue eyes. He sighed very deeply, gazing out into the rain. “If you really want to leave, I won’t stop you. You know that.”

“You think that I really wanted to leave? I love you, Tommy.” He looked up at her words, eyes suddenly full of hope. “I meant it. When I said that we could still be together. But…”

“But what?” He stood. “But what, Lucy?”

She shook her head, unable to get the words out, her chest spasming with hiccups. Those sobs that she had been keeping at bay finally making themselves known, taking such violent hold over her body that she almost feared that she would collapse with them. Tommy stood, going to her and laying a hand on her arm that she weakly pushed away.

“Love…love, please. Please,” he tried to reason. “Come home. Don’t worry about anything else. I want you back. I want you with me. Lucy,” he was trying to get in closer to her, to force her to meet his eyes. “Lucy, I love you–”

“I don’t believe you!” It came out as an agonizing wail, shrill and with enough conviction to shake the entire earth. The words seemed to rip apart her vocal cords on their way out. Her heart shredded in her chest like paper. What little will for life she had remaining blew out like a candle.

There it was. Bared and out for all to see. The truth. What she had known deep down for a while. Longer than she probably even realized. Because she’d been in denial about all of it. Because she wanted to hold onto him. Because she was a selfish, disgusting, horrid monster who hadn’t wanted to let him go even though she had to. Their relationship was dead. Had started to die slowly and painfully the second Lizzie got pregnant. Whatever love he’d ever had for her was long gone. Buried deep under the ground, never to be felt again. All that was left was residual guilt and a sense of duty towards her. That was all this was.

And he still knew her well enough to know that the admittance of the death of his love for her would destroy her, so he would not say it. He’d carry on pretending, or at least trying to, for her sake. But she needed to stop being so selfish with him; stop trying to hold onto him for a little longer. She had to set him free.

Tommy’s entire face changed. All anger and earnestness fell right off of it, eyes widening, jerking back as if she’d slapped him. The color drained out of his face, freckles standing out starkly against his paper-white skin, a look of horror quickly overtaking the frustration that had been there but a moment prior.

Unable to face the mounting pain in his eyes, she buried her face in her hands. Great, she’d gone and hurt his feelings. But why? Because she’d called him on his bluff? Because he didn’t want to hurt her? At this point, she wished that he would just stop pretending and be honest. He didn’t love her anymore. They couldn’t keep dancing around it forever.

“Lucy…” he made a sound of physical pain and rushed towards her, saying her name in agony, reaching out to her, trying to hold her.

“Get away from me!” She braced both hands on his chest and shoved, hard enough to send him staggering back a few steps, eyes wide.

“Love…”

She shook her head furiously, still sobbing, taking a step away from him. “We’re done here.” There was more that they needed to discuss. What was going to happen to her position as his assistant, for one, but she couldn’t. Not now. “We’re done for tonight.” Another step back. “I’m sorry. We can talk more later…”

“No, Lucy, wait–!”

But she stepped back into the downpour surrounding them, and the rush of the rain pelting upon her drowned out his voice. With one final hitching sob, she rounded on her heel and ran, nearly slipping and tripping in the mud, to the door of the living quarters. She burst through it into the kitchen, slamming the door shut behind her. A hand clapped over her mouth to try to contain her heartbroken cries.

Tommy did not follow her. That only made her sob more.

Asher, laying by the door, raised his head, whining and going to nudge at her legs with his nose.

Absentmindedly, she stroked his nose before staggering to the stairs, trembling fingers closing around the rail to balance herself. She was shivering, both from the chill that the rain had left her with, and the emotions still pumping through her veins. Asher’s nails clicked against the floorboards as he followed behind her.

Her room was the furthest door down on the left, but that was not where she went. Instead, she made a beeline for the red door at the end of the hall. The one that led into the washroom.

“No, Ash. Stay out here,” she commanded gently to the dog when he tried to squeeze past her legs to follow her inside. He whined again, watching her with concerned brown eyes, his head tilting to try to keep her in his line of sight as she closed the door.

Peeling off her drenched coat, she let it fall into a heap of soggy material on the tiled floor. Her skin had erupted into gooseflesh, shaking so badly her teeth rattled in her skull.

It’s over. It’s done.

I’m all alone again.

Both hands landed on the rim of the sink, barely managing to catch herself as she fell forward with an agonized sob. Her lungs and throat ached from crying, her eyes burning from shedding so many tears.

There was so much pain inside her, it felt like she was about to burst unless she found some way to release it.

She needed to get cleaned up. Yes; that’s what she needed to do. Maybe she would feel better after…

Oh, who was she kidding? She would never feel better again. Not after this.

But she went to the tub on the far end of the washroom anyway, turning the faucet on it and fitting the plug in place.

As the tub filled, she ridded herself of her upper layers until she was only in her undershirt and trousers. Opening up the cabinet, she riffled through it in search of the soap she’d stored there earlier, fingers freezing when they passed over not the soap, but something silver and gleaming.

“Pick it up,” a low, Irish accented voice said, arms suddenly wrapping around Lucy’s waist, chin resting on her shoulder. “Pick it up, get in the tub, and come away with me.”

Lucy remained frozen, trembling fingers hovering in place.

No one wants me here anyway.

It would be what’s best for everyone.

I won’t be a burden anymore.

They’ll be free of me.

Each thought came one right after the other rapidly, knocking her down and then striking her with the next before she had a chance to recover. Grace’s eyes gleamed at her from over her shoulder in the mirror.

No one loves me.

Her fingers closed around the razor.

∗ ∗ ∗

I don’t believe you.

He stared at the place where Lucy had been standing just seconds prior, mouth half open, his cries of her name lost in the roar of the wind and the splattering of rain.

I don’t believe you.

He moved to race after her, to grab her tight in his arms and never, ever let her go again. To tell her over and over that he loved her, until she finally believed him again.

I don’t believe you.

“Is everything alright, Tommy?” Curly asked, and Tommy paused, head snapping around to find the man standing just at the edge of the covering, barely out of the rain, his hands wringing together. “I heard shouting…”

No. Nothing is alright at all.

“Everything is fine, Curly,” he lied, managing a weak smile. “Everything is fine. Go on back to bed, eh? I’m sorry if we woke you up.”

“I was in the stables.”

Tommy nodded. As was often the case. Curly preferred to sleep with the horses than in a bed. “Well, best get back before they miss you in there, then, eh?”

Curly brightened, smiling and nodding. “Good night, then, Tom.”

“Good night, Curly.” He waited until he’d hurried back to the stables before he doused the fire, making sure there weren’t any lingering sparks or flames, then stepped away, picking his way carefully through the slippery mud towards the building Lucy had disappeared into.

Swiping off his cap, he shook it out a few times to try to dispel some of the water that had soaked into it. The door into the living quarters opened up into a kitchen, a small sitting room just off to the right, and the stairs that led to the bedrooms in the back. The kitchen was vacant, but there were muddy footprints leading from the door to the stairs.

Tommy glanced around the kitchen, taking a second to gather himself. He would need to be the calm one. The rational one. Lucy was clearly even more upset than he had originally thought. If he wanted to help pull her out of the dark pit of despair she’d fallen into, he would have to keep his head about him. Not let himself get frustrated.

After all, it wasn’t her fault. He was the jackass who had so thoroughly fucked up that the love of his life didn’t even believe he loved her anymore.

It had been a while since he’d been in there. The kitchen was minimalistic and tidy as ever, but he noticed little symptoms of Lucy’s presence scattered throughout: the angle at which the kettle was settled on the stove, the tin of cinnamon vanilla tea on the counter, the way that the towels were folded. He smiled a little to himself fondly at the reminders of her presence.

How could she ever think that he didn’t love her? The very idea of it was absolutely absurd to him.

He hadn’t much of an actual plan for what he was going to do or say outside of going upstairs. Finding Lucy in her room. Taking her into his arms. Telling her over and over that he loved her. That he was so sorry. That he’d do anything, anything to fix what he had done.

And then he’d take her to bed, and make love to her until the sun came up, and any doubts that he loved her with every ounce of his being were banished from her mind.

A bark shattered through the air and Tommy jumped, head turning to find Asher standing at the top of the stairs, practically bouncing from foot to foot anxiously.

“Asher, no,” he frowned. Usually Asher was very good about not barking. Not unless he was alerting them to approaching dangers. Asher barked again, darting away from the stairs to further down the hallway that they led up to, then back to the top of the stairs, staring down at him imploringly. “Asher–oi!” Tommy jumped back in surprise when Asher suddenly darted down the stairs, took a mouthful of his trouser leg in his jaws, and tried to tug him up the stairs with him. “What the hell?”

Asher yanked, and it was either he took a step forward or let the dog rip his trousers.

“Asher, mate, I can’t play with you right now…”

Dropping the mouthful of fabric, Asher barked, then whined, darting up the stairs.

“For fuck’s sake…” Tommy muttered. Now was not the time. Still, he huffed, following the dog up the stairs and down the hall. “What? What is so important?”

Asher came to a stop at the red door at the very far end of the hallway, whining and lifting a paw to scratch at the door. He was panting, tail dropped low. His ears kept twitching, as if trying to listen for something. Tommy’s blood chilled.

“Asher?” he asked, making his way down the hallway. The dog whined loudly, scratching more insistently at the door. When Tommy got closer, he could see marks already left on the base of the wall and door frame where the dog had been pawing at it. “Move, boy,” he gently nudged the dog out of the way, leaning his head against the door, trying to hear what was on the other side of it as he raised his fist to knock.

“Lucy?” he called softly. “Love, are you in there?”

No answer. He tried again.

“Lucy? Are you okay?”

Still nothing. Asher whined again, distraught. Tommy swallowed hard, his heart rate spiking in his ears. Fear locked pale hands around his throat.

“Sweetheart? I’m coming in.”

When he tried the knob it was to find the door surprisingly unlocked, but that was where his relief ended.

Later, they would tell him that he screamed. And he supposed that he must have, though he had no recollection of it.

The pieces of the scene before him were processed only in fragments. As if his mind knew that anything more would cause him to become incapacitated by hysterics.

The bloody bathwater. The body with her head lolled back against the rim. The soaked clothes sticking to her like a second skin. The hand draped over the edge of the tub, blood dripping from it onto the white tiles. The bloody razor on the floor. The deep cuts slashed into her wrists.

He was hurling himself towards the bathtub before his mind had fully finished processing what he was seeing, plunging his hands into the lukewarm water. Not caring that it was stained red–red, with her blood–as he scooped her up out of the tub. And she was a dead weight in his arms, and the thought of that word in association with Lucy had his knees buckling, sinking to the floor with her cradled to his chest.

She was still dressed in her white undershirt and dark trousers. Her head fell back limply against his shoulder, those big brown eyes he’d fallen so deeply in love with closed. Damp hair clung to her forehead, a shade darker red than usual from the moisture.

“No,” he choked out, hands hovering over her, frantic. “No, no, no, no, no, no…” he found her arms, gripping them tight, examining the blood flowing heavily from her wrists to pool around them.

Have to stop the bleeding.

Shifting Lucy to lay across his lap, he yanked his tie free from around his neck with shaking hands, wrapping it around one of her arms and pulling it taunt in an improvised tourniquet.

“Please, please,” he begged. He needed something else for the other arm…

“Tommy, what’s–oh my God,” Charlie gasped, coming to a stop in the doorway.

Tommy looked up at him, and when he spoke, his voice was shockingly childlike.

“Help me.”

“I’ll call an ambulance!” Charlie shouted, already racing down the hall. Tommy turned his attention back to Lucy, grabbing onto her shirt sleeves and ripping them apart to set to work fashioning a second tourniquet around the other arm.

Right. What next? What more could he do to help her? It was taking everything he had to fight back the cycle of memories his brain was attempting to bombard him with: Greta’s hand in his, her final breaths rattling in her lungs while he lingered at her side, unable to do anything. Grace, in his arms, bleeding out while he was helpless to save her..

Here’s another one, Tommy. Another woman you loved, dead in your arms. Another one that’s all your fault.

He shook his head. He needed to find something to make bandages out of for her wrists. Reaching into his pocket, he yanked out his handkerchief, ripping it in two and folding it, using one hand each to press the two pieces of fabric to the deep wounds on her wrists. The fabric was soaked crimson within seconds, and he was suddenly massively aware of the size of the scarlet puddle growing around him.

He did not really even know if she was still alive. There was no time to check. He was pretty sure he saw her chest rising and falling shallowly, but that could always have been his mind seeing what it wanted to see.

Despite the makeshift bandages steadily soaking through, he continued to maintain pressure, even as hope slipped away with every passing second. He could taste salt from his tears against his lips, aware that he was sobbing distraughtly, but not caring to do anything about it.

“Please,” he curled around her, face bent in close to hers. “Please, Lucy, don’t leave me alone. Hang on. Just hang on. I’m sorry.” He started crying even harder. “I’m so, so sorry. I love you. I love you more than anything. Just please, please hang on. Stay with me. Please, please, please, please…”

He was still there, holding her on the floor of the washroom in a pool of her blood, crying and speaking to her softly, when the paramedics came charging through the door.

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