#her little face is So Disgruntled and So Confused

[muffinlance]

Tiny Baby, repeatedly getting her foot stuck in a fold of her high chair's fabric: *distressed noises*

Me: And suffering will be your teacher

[mostly-imagines]

Banished

jason todd x fem!reader

aka jason misses his girlfriend

warnings: extremely mild angst, he’s just mopey (he’s fine)

Jason sits slumped over the kitchen island, head lying in his crossed arms. His now soggy cereal disregarded after barely a few bites.

Dick’s been rummaging through the cabinets for the better part of twenty minutes and Tim sits atop of the nook table shoving donuts in his mouth for the better part of thirty.

Damian trudges past them to the nook bench, taking out a knife and beginning to whittle away at a block of wood.

He glances at Jason with a scowl. “If you’re going to be so miserable, can’t you do it in your own home?”

Jason just grunts.

He wishes. You and Bruce had conspired to trap him at the mansion for the week so he could heal from injuries sustained during the last mission without risk of him suiting up and sneaking away from you in the middle of the night.

It’s not even the fact that he’s basically being babysat that’s got him so disgruntled. He wouldn’t mind it at all if you were here too. But you were dead set that the manor was too far out of your way for work, so you’d stay behind. A lose-lose for Jason.

“He’s just mad his girlfriend kicked him out,” Dick teases, swiping through the fridge.

Tim snorts from the doorway, “Me too. He’s a lot more depressing on his own.”

Jason kept his head down as he blindly reached for the spoon in his cereal and chucked it at Tim’s head.

Tim catches it without thought, continuing, “A lot more irritable, at least. Why isn’t she here?”

“She’s gotta work,” Dick says, scanning through the pantry.

Damian peeps his head up from his project. “But Todd has a rather large supply of less than legally obtained money, does he not?”

“Yeah, but she said she wants to pay her own rent, I think,” Dicks hums, finally giving up on his quest for a snack.

Damian pauses.

“So she wants to live in a tiny apartment?” He asks, a mixture of confused and horrified.

“Watch your mouth,” Jason mumbles.

“It was a genuine question!” Damian protests, face screwed up.

Jason finally lifts his head up, turning to his little brother with a raised brows. “And I’m genuinely going to break your nose.”

It’s an empty threat, maybe. But it was enough to shut Damian up anyways. Jason turns back to his cereal and swishes the bowl around.

Dick rests his arms on the counter across from Jason and speaks lowly. “You know, it is just a few days. She’s coming back.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Jason was never one for showing his feelings—let alone talking about them.

He misses you, plain and simple. Dick could see that much clearly, though the longing looked unfamiliar on Jason.

Bruce lingers in the hallway, just past the island, listening.

He’ll admit (to himself) that he’s worried about Jason. It’s been three days and Jason has yet to show a crack in this demeanor. And while it’s not uncommon for him to stow himself away, there is something quite wrong with the way he hasn’t countered his brother’s jabs at him or teased them.

And while he could do without the blatant threats, he’s proud to hear his son defending his girlfriend, even over trivial things. It’s one of the few moments where he feels like he did right by him as a father.

And now here’s his son, caring about someone else more than he cares about himself. Someone who’s a good person, no less. It had been your idea to trick Jason into staying at the manor, you were scared that he would push his body past its limit when you couldn’t do anything to help.

Bruce knew you didn’t feel great about basically banishing him for the week but he could see that you just wanted what was best for Jason. He could see it so clearly. Maybe Bruce could never have been a perfect father, could never have given his son everything he needed despite having more money than he could ever use. Maybe he couldn’t help him, even now.

But you could.

Bruce peers around the corner, leaning up against the doorframe.

He watches Damian give up on carving at his block and start into the leg of the table.

He watches the bickering that broke out after Tim grab the last glazed donut, which was apparently the only thing Dick could possibly fathom eating.

And he watches Jason.

As Jason’s phone lights up on the counter next to him. He glances down at it with a frown before his face absolutely lights up.

He scrambles to pick the phone up and starts typing away. A quiet action that catches the attention of all of his brothers.

He types and types, waits for ten seconds for a response and types and types again—smile on his face.

The Waynes didn’t need to be the greatest detectives in the world to know who he was texting.

✨ reblog fics or face the block button ✨

[fanaticsnail]

Exhibitionism: Trafalgar Law

Birthday Celebration Masterlist

Word Count: 4,100+

Themes: Law x afab!reader, mdni, NSFW, 18+, smut, fingering, praise, public, no prior relationship, masturbation, education, medical malpractice, (witnesses present: Shachi, Penguin, and Bepo), consent asked multiple times, medical talk, vaginal exam.

Notes: This is day 2 of my celebration event. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Disclaimer: I am not a doctor, please excuse any inaccuracies.

When Ikkaku approached you with a coin from your captain’s prized collection, your brows knit together in puzzlement. She had this look in her eye, one that held something hidden behind her usual disgruntled expression that held you intrigued. Head lulling to the side, she pursed her lips and asked you her question.

“Heads or tails?”

Shaking your head softly, you gave her more of a confused smile than anything else. With a soft shrug, and an assumption in your mind regarding chore rotation, you simply pouted while uttering your answer.

“Tails, I guess?”

With a mischievous smirk, Ikkaku flicked the shiny object in the air with a skilled roll of her thumb. Catching it mid-air, she swatted it and held it firmly within a cupped grip on her forearm. Eyes darting between yours, her smile grew ever wider the longer she held your attention.

“Don't want to reconsider?” she taunted you, “Last chance to change your answer, hon. Still going with tails?”

“I like my odds, and tails is my favorite” you smile warmly at her, “They're always more intricately carved, and their patterns are pretty.” She nods, tugging away her hand and revealing the side facing the roof of the tang to you both.

“Would you look at that! You win,” she chuckled, reaching the coin forward and gently offering it out for you to take, “Give this to the captain when you go on in to see him. He's expecting one of us, and I'm so fucking glad it's you.” She seemed to breathe out a sigh of relief at that last statement, her cheeks falling a little as she feels a weight flee from her shoulders.

You cocked your head at her response, darting your eyes between hers before you apprehensively took the coin from her hands.

“What the fuck did I just agree to?” you giggle a little, unsure of what would phase your crewmate so much that she'd breathe out this much relief, “Some sick and twisted chore?”

“Nah, nothin’ like that,” she giggled, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze, “Captain needed a volunteer for a lesson he wanted to teach some of the crew, is all.” She gently waved you off, giving you that grin filled with mischief that had your skin ignite with goose flesh.

Shrugging off your nerves, you ponder what mysterious lesson needed your person in that only you or Ikkaku would be able to serve under.

Whatever you concocted in your mind, nothing prepared you for where you found yourself. Splayed out in the medical bay, legs in stirrups, and made comfortable by pillows tucked behind your head, and a weighted blanket kindly placed over your stomach to grant you some comfort within the issue at hand: Captain Trafalgar Law was giving three of the crew a lesson on anatomy. Your body as his guide, he had his nylon gloves tugged over his wrists as he gently pointed out several areas of your pussy to your crewmates.

“The labia majora and the labia minora are a part of what is commonly referred to as ‘the vulva’,” Law’s low tone and dry voice caused you to internally shake your head and roll your eyes, but externally remaining still so he could deliver more of his lecture, “This also includes the urethra, vagina, and glans clitoris. Any questions?”

“What is the main function of the clitoris?” Bepo’s voice bashfully rose his question through a shy mumble, “What does it do?” Snickers from Shachi and Penguin were hastily silenced by a look Law shot them, his eyes piercing them more precisely than his blade ever could.

“The clitoris is where most owners of vaginas often source their pleasure,” Law explained without fluctuation in his cadence, “For many, it is the most common cornerstone of their orgasm. Only a small fraction is external, the majority of the clitoris is internal. Stimulating the clitoris is usually the final leg to achieving an orgasm. Any other questions, or should I move on-?”

“-The fuck you mean it's internal? Like the G-spot?” Shachi spoke over Law, cutting him off and relating his concern. Law sighed, clamping his eyes shut and taking a small breath of agitation.

“Both yes, and no. It's currently under debate as to what part of the network the G-spot is: whether it's a part of the vagina, or if it's the underside of the clitoris,” Law spoke, resting his hand on your exposed thigh.

You try not to tense up as you stare at the ceiling and think on the dinner menu, the cleaning rotation, the timetable for overnight shift, and what time to set your alarm in the morning. Anything other than four of your crewmates staring at your pussy, and attempting to ignore the way your Captain's authoritarian dictation was affecting you. Anything other than the embarrassment of getting aroused at each soft and intentional poke and prod to your cunt, paired with the dry delivery of medical speech.

“Now, let's talk internally,” Law cut through the silence, gently moving his warm hands towards your core and using the heels of his palm to divide your walls and expose your entrance. “The alley towards the cervix-.”

“-Captain, I'm sorry to interrupt your lecture,” Bepo’s voice spoke quietly once more, “But I have more questions about the clitoris. When you say it's the most common source for the orgasm, can you explain anything else about it? I-... I just want to learn, I'm sorry.” You purse your lips and attempt to suppress a soft coo at Bepo’s sweetness.

Law was less enthusiastic about the interruption, but halted his explanation to satisfy the curiosity of the polar-bear mink.

“The clitoris has three parts to it,” you felt his hands move up, the heel of his palm at the base of your abdomen, pushing up the skin and exposing more of you to your crewmates, “See here? I’m pushing the clitoral hood back to reveal this smaller organ hidden beneath? That is an extremely sensitive part of the vaginal anatomy. When stimulated, the vagina will self-lubricate to allow easier entry internally.”

You could barely breathe, thankful for the security the weighted blanket offered you to anchor you to the table and prevent you from fleeing from sheer embarrassment. Taking a few steady breaths in, you attempted to keep yourself calm as you shoved away the feeling of an almost touch to your sensitive bundle of nerve-endings from your captain.

Sensing your unease, Law drew his other hand to your thigh and gave you a gentle tap in appreciation of your willingness as his assistant. While he would never say it, he hoped you were the one to agree to this little display instead of Ikkaku. He wouldn't have heard the end of her sass, and you were far easier to ask to follow obscure orders from time to time.

“Sir, when you say ‘self lubricate,’ can you explain what that means-?” Bepo asked quietly once more, prompting you to let out a soft cough to cover a nervous laugh. Law seemed to notice your nerves, gently checking in with you before he did anything without consent. With the gentle call of your name, he broke you from your thoughts and coaxed your eyes to meet his.

“Would you mind if I demonstrated a little bit about how lubrication is produced?” His question seemed the most straight forward to ask the most abstract concept you could ever hope to agree to.

Your captain, Trafalgar D Water Law: former warlord of the seas, and titled the surgeon of death, was asking for permission to get you wet in front of your crewmates. With a soft warmth illuminating your cheeks, you felt compelled to nod. You did not want to disappoint your captain, and having him so close to your intimate region was driving you to the brink of your self control.

“If you deem it necessary, and are prepared to, Captain. I won't stop you,” you responded, checking in with him to ensure he was comfortable with demonstrating this in front of his subordinates. While you were the one about to be made aroused in front of your crew, your captain was going to be the one to do it.

“Alright,” Law nodded down at you, again while giving your thigh a soft squeeze, “Thank you. You're an excellent assistant, and I appreciate you for doing this.”

Managing to give him a soft nod, you lay back and fixed your eyes on the silver roof of the Polar Tang’s med bay as you felt your captain's hand shift towards your pussy. Gently holding your pelvis up with the heel of his palm, he exposed your clit by pulling back the hood.

“Where most partners, once knowing where the clitoris is and what it does, would go charging in towards it,” Law spoke while the warmth of his hands moved towards your pearly bud, “You must only be kind to it. Gentle motions: either up and down,” your breath hitched as his fingers made contact with your clit, his motions following his instructions.

“You can also go side to side,” he rolled your clit with his index finger, your dry pussy now weeping with a small amount of arousal pooling at the entrance, “Or in a circular motion. Like so,” his wrist shifted, using both his index and unity finger to stimulate your clit. You continued to stare up at the ceiling, attempting to fight the way your body was responding to your captain and compartmentalize the feeling of his hands on your body.

“And now you see, there's a little bit of lubrication at the entrance,” his hands darted down, collecting a small amount of your slick, and raising his hand up to the light. “This is an indication of arousal, and will often pave the way for penatritive sex for those who enjoy it.” Law finished, bringing his hand away from your pussy and letting it throb in front of your crewmates.

“Now that we've got it wet, is there any other quest-,” Law’s words were stolen from him when Bepo interjected, much to both Shachi and Penguin's delight.

“-When you say ‘penatritive sex,’ do you mean when a penis goes in? I am so sorry,” Bepo added, his apologies directed at you, alongside his heartfelt gratitude, “I just want to learn. I don't want to make you uncomfortable.” Before Law had a moment to reprimand Bepo, you spoke up calmly and sweetly.

“No, it's okay Bepo. It's actually refreshing that you want to learn this,” you raise your head and give him a soft smile, “If you have a partner with these parts in future, I know they would appreciate you knowing how to satisfy them. Sorry for interrupting, sir. I won't do it again.” You turn your attention towards Law, offering him a soft smile before returning to your reclined position against the bay.

Law, despite his stoic exterior, attempted to ignore the twitch in his pants each time you called him ‘sir’ while being so close to your pussy. ‘It was all in the name of knowledge and medical education,’ he told himself, ‘Nothing more.’

“Penetrative sex, Bepo, can be with foreign objects, including: hands, tongue, tools, and another person’s anatomy that fits within,” he relayed, gently bringing his hands back to your pussy and massaging your clit once more. “The only thing you need to think about is how aroused they are when entering. So, you see how there's a little amount of lubrication at the center?”

Law lined up his tallest finger with your core, gently carding through your folds and rubbing your slit. Slowly inching his fingertip within your pussy, he listened for that gentle hiccup in your breathing that shot lightning straight to his cock. He clamped his eyes shut to take a moment of composure, focussing his attention on the way his gloved finger disappeared into your pussy, and continued.

“So now we've got our partner lubricated enough to enter,” he pressed a little more firmly, more of his finger disappeared upwards within your pussy, “It goes in with ease. In a gentle rocking motion, we can use our hand and fingers to draw out pleasure.” Law continued to press more of his finger within your pussy, trying not to groan at the way it swallowed his digit with a greediness he did not anticipate. He could feel how hot and wet you were through the glove, and it made him almost want to dismiss the three from the room and claim you on the table.

“Now, if we're satisfied with this,” Law continued rocking you on his hand, his attention now turning towards Shachi, Bepo and Penguin, “I could now talk about performing cervical testing and pap smears, like I intended in the beginning-.”

“-Once the entrance is lubricated enough,” Bepo again spoke up, “Should the clitoris be ignored? It's far from the opening, and I could imagine it hard to reach.” Law sighed, turning back towards you while his finger was still buried within your center to the knuckle.

“I am so sorry,” he offered you, his eyes empathetic while he choked back his anger at the line of questions, “Would… Would you mind if I made you cum? I don't want to make you uncomfortable, and I would only be doing it for the benefit of answering all of the follow up questions that I know will come from my brief explaiations.” Law gave you a few short rocks of his hand within your pussy, causing you to bite back a moan that he so easily could have ripped from you.

“If-...” you hissed, feeling more of the pressure returning to your abdomen the longer his hands remained focussing on your pussy. “If you think it's necessary, sir. I am at your mercy, and I will leave it up to you to decide how far you want to take this in the name of educational curiosity. Anything you need, I'm here to assist, sir.”

“Very well,” Law offered with a soft, cocky snicker in his tone, “I'm going to demonstrate a little bit of what I know about anatomy. Please just relax, let me take the reins, and tap my arm to stop me if it gets too much.”

“Yes, sir,” you nod, closing your eyes as you relax against the bay and gulping back your nerves, “Thank you, Captain.” You try to ignore the way you knew four sets of eyes were now fixed on the way your pussy sucked in Law’s finger as he dove it in and retracted it out.

“Okay, now that we're both consenting individuals for this small display, I'm going to demonstrate how to induce an orgasm from our willing crewmate here,” Law nodded to the other three, “You signed up for learning how to complete cervical screening, not learning how to deliver an orgasm. I am happy to cover them while you leave if you do not want-.”

“-Nope!”

“-Nuh uh, I'm good!”

“-I want to learn, Captain.”

You almost wanted to scream at the awkward tension in the room, feeling yourself slink back into the comfort of your shell and hide from them. Just as you were about to speak, Law drew his thumb up and began to gently roll your clit in slow and circular motions. Each time he drew his finger inside your pussy, he would match it with a soft roll of your clit beneath his thumb.

“This act is called ‘fingering’,” he added, likely for Bepo’s benefit while he continued to motion with his hands further, “While few partners enjoy being stimulated either internally or externally, I find the combination of the two actions gets a far greater result. See how much more lubrication freely falls from the entrance?” Law removed his finger from your pussy and held it up to the other three before returning it back to your slit.

“Now, I'm going to add a second finger to the mix,” he nodded, gently bringing his unoccupied hand up to the top of your thigh and giving it a small, appreciative squeeze, “I prefer using my two middle fingers, like so.” He lines up his fingers and gently eases them in your drooling pussy, rolling them against each other to stretch out your entrance.

“This leaves our index finger, pinky finger, and thumb free, so we can use them to-...” he draws his index finger and pinky against your labia and spreads it, his thumb returning to your clit and gently tapping on it with every in-thrust, “...Gently pry apart the vagina so we can see what we're doing, while using our thumb to stimulate the clitoris.”

Scrunching your eyes tightly shut, you used your top teeth to clamp hard on your lower lip to halt a wanton moan from falling from your lips. You couldn't, however, halt the way your back arched on the medical bay as your thighs began to tremble at the amount of pleasure your captain was ripping from you.

“Based on this reaction from our partner, how should I proceed?” he offered the other three, “See how they've arched their back, and their legs had began to twitch a little? This is the telltale sign that, regardless of the silence or not, they are enjoying what we are doing. Should I continue like this, speed up, or slow down?”

“I think we should slow down, draw it out a little more, and take our time with it,” Penguin offered in contemplation, “Withhold it a little to prolong the orgasm and build it up to a larger release.”

“I think we should stay at the same pace,” Bepo suggested, his tone more apprehensive, “Our partner seems to like it, and I would not want to disappoint them by changing what I'm doing in case they don't like it as much.”

“I think we should speed it up, hook our hands up, spit on it a little bit to add more lubrication, and see if we can make them squirt,” Shachi shrugged, uttering it is if it was the most obvious choice, “Use our tongue too, suck on the clit a little bit and make them get a little loud and nasty-.”

“-Keep up the language, Shachi, and I'll have you used as an example of what a prostate exam is,” Law’s warning tone, alongside his coaxing fingers had you whimpering. Your eyes floated open, eyelashes fluttering as he kept a steady rhythm on your pussy, and drawing out your pleasure with ease.

“While these are good suggestions, what we're missing is collecting preference from the one person that truly matters,” Law nodded to them, turning back his attention to you, “You're doing so well. Thank you for letting me do this. Would you prefer I slow down, speed up, or keep talking at the same pace while I change it up?” You gulp at his attention now returned to you, trying to compartmentalize the pleasure while communicating with your captain.

“I-...” you close your eyes, fighting a soft whimper at the way his hand manages to press against your most intimate regions and erogenous zones with the precision of a marksman hitting their target. Without much thought to the action, you couldn't help the words that fell from your lips.

“Please make me cum, captain. Please speed up a little bit, add some more pressure to my clit, and focus more on where your fingers touch me internally,” your soft plea was made with an almost innocent and begging look from your rounded eyes, “Please make me cum. I n-need to cum. Please, sir? Please?”

“Fuck,” a soft whisper from behind Law almost tore you away from your thoughts, Shachi’s hand moving to the front of his boiler suit and adjusting his hardening cock by pinching at the fabric. Law had no time to reprimand him, his entire attention focussed on you the moment your first utter of ‘please’ escaped your lips. Law sped up his motions, hooking up his digits and circling your clit with his thumb.

“Like this? I can feel the way you twitch around me when I push here. But if I push here,” Law moved his hand slightly up, leaning his body closer to yours while his hand was pressed on the base of your pelvis. Moving your hood back with his hand as he did earlier, he exposed more of your clit and spread your slick over your quivering pearl while his motions picked up, “I can stimulate all the parts of your clit at once. Do you like that?”

“Yes, please!” your back bowed as you felt your orgasm grow and bloom in your abdomen, “Please don't stop, captain! Please make me cum!” The fact your crewmates were watching as you were brought to your peak on Law's hands escaped you, your body responding to each rake of his fingers deep within your needy cunt.

“Fu-uck,” another whisper echoed from behind you, this time from Penguin who was clutching his clipboard closer to his chest and pressing his thighs close together.

“You can cum. Cum for me. Cum on my fingers,” Law kept his eyes on your face, continuing to beckon your orgasm from you while raising the intensity and speed of his motions. You felt the coil within your abdomen begin to wind tightly bound, your toes beginning to twitch and curl while your legs dug in against the stirrups.

“Nnnngh-... f-fuck-!” Back fully arching off the table, your lips parted in a silent cry as your pussy began to flutter around Law’s fingers. Both “A” and “T” continued to disappear into your pussy, his relentless stimulation of your clit pushing you from that ledge as you floated off into oblivion.

“There you go, there you go,” Law encouraged you, slowing down his motions as he felt you contract and pulse around his digits, “Good job. Look at you, cumming on my fingers. That's it, keep going.” You couldn't help but let out a higher whine at his praise as he continued to draw out your ecstasy with his skilled hands. He easily ushered you through it, careful to not overstimulate you as he draws you closer to your conclusion.

Feeling the last few waves of your pussy pulsing over his fingers, he holds them within, right down to the knuckle. He felt selfish in lingering longer than necessary, but he needed to feel you just that little bit longer as you panted and heaved through that high.

“So, you see how I slowed down as our partner experienced their orgasm?” Law slowly withdrew his fingers from your pussy, feeling the way it attempted to suck him back within and made him feel like internally groaning at the action, “Why did I do that?”

The room was in pregnant silence, nobody speaking a word, nor raising their hands to indicate their answers. With a soft roll of his eyes and a sigh, Law reached up and removed the elastic of his gloves with a snap over his wrists, breaking the men from their trance.

“To not overstimulate our partner. When the vagina experiences an orgasm, it is far more intense than the penis,” Law discarded the gloves into the bin and gently placed the blanket to cover up your exposed cunt, “The body doesn't feel it at just the abdomen, it feels it everywhere. If you keep it sped up, it overstimulates them to a point where it can become painful in some people. Communication is key with our partner. Any questions?”

Through the small amount of silence, the small voice of the polar-bear spoke shyly.

“Thank you,” he gently praised through his gratitude, rolling your name over his tongue with a blush dusting his white fur, “I appreciate you showing us this, and answering a lot of questions I was going to have before I asked them.”

You keep your eyes fixed on the roof as you raise up your hand. Extending your thumb, you gently squeak out through panting breaths: “Happy to help.”

While remaining composed and professional through the entirety of the ordeal, Trafalgar Law was far from unmoved by your display. He heard your whines for him, saw your back bowing and hips bucking, and remembered the way your pussy quivered against his fingers through each wave of your bliss. When he was alone in his quarters, he couldn't help but to bite his palm hard to muffle the keening cries of his bliss while fisting his cock to the memory. Ropes of cum spurting from his slit while he pictured the way your pussy would feel in the cusps of ecstasy atop his cock.

With the soft cry of your name muffled by his palm, he chased his high past overstimulation while picturing your begging. Eyes rolling, he bucked up into his balled fist while falling from a secondary edge of his own. He was desperate to feel you again: taste you, kiss you, consume you, worship you with his body against your own. All he could do was harden his resolve, charge up to you, and confess his adoration to you…

…Right after he cleaned up his mess.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory

🎶Happy Birthday to Me🎶

If you would like to celebrate by indulging my caffeine and bubble tea addiction, my Kofi link is here.

[mapis-putellas]

Hammocks

Pairing: Alexia Putellas x reader

Words: 1087

Warnings: fluff

Summary: Alexia buys a hammock. It goes about as well as expected.

Notes: first time writing for our girl Ale. Hope I did her justice <3

You quirk an eyebrow in amusement as you make your way into the backyard and see your girlfriend of three years crouched between two trees. There was a brown Amazon box next to her, and she appeared to be currently in the midst of ripping it open.

She was wearing nothing more than a pair of shorts and a sports bra, blonde hair tied up into a high ponytail with a thin black headband keeping the flyaways out of her face, Tanned, tattooed limbs all but glow in the sun, and you do everything possible to stop yourself from drooling.

"Ale? What are you doing?" 

At the sound of your voice, she turns, brown eyes lighting up as she gestures you over. You laugh softly as you comply, blades of grass tickling your bare feet. Once you get close enough, she reaches out for one of your hands and tugs you towards her lap.

"Amor, sit." She instructs as she falls to her knees, and never one to tell her no, you allow her to manoeuvre you onto her bare thighs, a toned arm settling around your waist as her large hand comes to rest on your stomach.

"What is that?" You point to the box as you rest your hand atop of her own, fingers fiddling aimlessly with her watch.

Alexia smiles, reaching for the partially torn box and tugging it over. "Open it, bebé. It is for us."

Curiosity peeking, you remove your hand from her own and all but rip open the box. Inside was something you didn't quite recognise, prompting Alexia to smile fondly at you as she pulls it out and sets it onto your lap.

"A hammock." You murmur, now understanding why she'd been crouched weirdly between two trees.

"Sí. Hamaca. For us, yes?" Alexia wraps her other arm around you too, hands clasped together on your stomach.

"Mmm, sí," you nod with a smile as you lean your head back against her shoulder and and press your lips against her jawline in a soft kiss. "It's perfect ale. Do you need help putting it up?"

Alexia looks a little gobsmacked at your audacity to even ask that, and without her having to say a word, you nod your head and press another kiss to her jaw before going to stand up. Alexia's hands linger on your hips, prompting you to turn in place so you were facing before reaching up to cup her cheeks.

She looks a little worried that you might be mad at her for the not so subtle rejection, but you were quick to reassure her that everything was fine by pressing your lips against her own. The blonde reciprocates tenderly, lips soft and hands steady against your hips.

"I'll go make us a drink." You reluctantly pull away, thumbs trailing over the soft skin of her face.

"A drink. Sí, vale. You come back, yes?"

"Yes, ale. I'll be back." With one last kiss, you make your way back into the house and get to work on making drinks. As you stand in front of the refrigerator and contemplate your choices, your eyes absentmindedly drift over to the window where you could easily see your girlfriends every move.

She was standing now, the hammock instructions held firmly in her grasp. Due to the fact she wasn't too far away, you could see her every facial expression. Her eyebrows were furrowed in what you could only guess was confusion as she reads, and it takes no more than a second for her to roll her eyes and toss the instructions over her shoulder before grabbing the hammock and beginning to tie it to one of the trees.

Alexia seems to manage this pretty easily, and you somewhat distractedly pour two glasses of cold juice as you watch her do the same with the other. You make it to the threshold of the back door, a glass in each hand, just in time to see her drop onto the hammock with a smirk on her face. Said smirk fades then the hammock collapses under the weight of her, landing on her ass with a disgruntled shout.

You couldn't help but snort as you stifle your laugh with the side of your wrist , Alexia's eyes ripping away from the hammock to you in just seconds. She rises gracefully to her feet -maybe a little too gracefully for someone who landed on her ass not even two second ago- and makes her way over to you with a small pout.

You set down the glasses and wrap your arms around her bare waist, hands settling just above her rear end. Her taller frame all but slumps against you, and you're forced to widen your stance just slightly so you didn't fall down and take her with you.

"Amor," she complains, and you smile fondly as she buries her face into your neck.

"Poor baby. Did the big bad hammock attack you?" You playfully tease, and you feel her huff against your neck. Whether that be in amusement or dismay, you didn't know.

"Sí." She murmurs as she pulls away, her lips slipping into a soft pout she so rarely lets you to see. At the sight of it, you rise up on your toes to place your lips against her chin.

"I'll help, baby. Grab the instructions."

*

No more than half an hour later, you both find yourselves swaying gently back and forth in the now safely installed hammock. Alexia was at the bottom, your smaller frame nestled contented on top of her.

You find yourself humming quietly as you absentmindedly trail the tip of your finger over the tattoo on her arm. The breeze was cool now, a nice compromise against the once sweltering heat.

Alexia's arms suddenly tighten around your waist, prompting you to look up at her and rest your chin against her sternum. She looked all the more beautiful up close, and you couldn't help but softly graze the backs of your fingers against the warm skin of her cheek.

"Amor, stop." She murmurs bashfully, and you hum quietly as you comply, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her nose instead.

"I adore you, ale." You murmur as you pull away, and Alexia's eyes take on a sudden shine as she grabs you by the underarms and tugs you up her body so your face was nestled against her neck. Her hands slip beneath your shirt, squeezing softly.

"Te amo."

**

[thorin-is-a-cuddler]

Fighting the bear

A/N: Benedict and Anthony are jealous of the time their wives, you and Kate, spend together. They come up with a (not so) glorious plan to get your attention. Based on a prompt I received.

When Anthony entered the living space, he‘d certainly not expected to stumble upon Benedict peeking out one of the large windows with the curtain hiding most of his face. He furrowed his brows, waiting to be noticed, but realized after about ten seconds that it was in vain. 

He held on to his arm behind his back and shifted slightly on his feet, amusement slowly trickling down his face as he decided to speak. „Brother?“

Benedict almost ripped down the tender fabric, turning around like a rabbit who heard a dog bark, the curtain swishing almost weightlessly over his head. 

„Erm… brother!“ He answered in greeting, imitating Anthony‘s pose, hands behind back and chest jutted out, while nervously weighing up and down on his feet. His mind seemed to be galloping at high speed to come up with something to say. „What nice weather we have today, do we not? Nice indeed!“

Anthony hummed shortly in agreement, his amused eyes searching his brother‘s face to assess the situation. He walked over to the table with the afternoon biscuits to hide his smile and pour himself a cup of tea. Benedict had always been an open book. Whenever one of the brothers had played a prank in their youth, one look at Benedict‘s face had sufficed to give everything away: who had done it, when they had done it and sometimes even what they had done. 

Now was no different. 

„Tell me,“ Anthony slurred, turning around with a lazy smile, „is whatever you have been spying on, something I should rather not be telling your wife?“

Benedict stiffened with indignation. „Of course not!!“ His angry glance was burning into Anthony’s until it changed into a pensive one, his eyes looking up towards the ceiling.

„Though it is true that you should rather not tell her… but not for any such reason you might be suggesting!“ 

Anthony hummed again, the little silver spoon clinking in his tea cup. He took a long sip and made an extra loud smacking noise after he finished. Benedict‘s eyes grew narrower and narrower. The tension in the air would have been visible to anyone, like a floating purple cloud. Anthony put his tea cup back down and smiled at his brother. And then he was already dashing to the window. 

„No, Anthony!!!“ 

Benedict cursed, when his brother took a turn about the sofa to confuse him and it actually worked, the younger Bridgerton losing the chase to his former spying position at the window. 

„Well, look at that,“ the elder brother exclaimed teasingly, „our two wives conversing in the shade of the trees.“ 

Then his smirk fell and his brows grew closer together. „Our two wives conversing in the shade of the trees…“ he repeated, now with no remaining trace of amusement. 

Benedict lifted his brows and nodded. He certainly had not expected his brother to look just as disgruntled as he felt. „Again!“ He added to Anthony‘s phrase, extending his hand and stepping to the window as well, ending up shoulder to shoulder with his brother. „What is it they keep talking about? Don‘t they ever grow tired of their conversation?“

Anthony hummed, now in a much more serious manner, his hand moving to his chin to touch it cluelessly. „They spend an awful lot of time together. I wonder if they are talking about us…“

Benedict‘s eyes grew in terror. „What would they be saying?“

„How am I supposed to know?“ Anthony hissed in distress, one hand wandering to his neck tie to loosen it a little. „Is there something you did?“

„Something I did??“ Benedict fired back, his voice uncharacteristically high from a strong feeling of disbelief. „What do you suppose I should have done?? Is there something that you did??“ 

„Of course not!“ Anthony‘s eyes were burning coals, when he turned his head around. They were staring at each other with their uncomfortable, helpless fear of having disgruntled their wives, covering it up with a good portion of self-defending anger. Until Benedict moved up his eyebrows and allowed a small huff of laughter to escape his lips. He dropped his forehead on Anthony‘s shoulder and groaned.

„What are we doing? Why are we fighting? I don‘t even know what‘s going on.“ 

Anthony‘s face relaxed at Benedict‘s words and he as well was shaken by a small sound of amusement considering their behaviour. He patted Benedict‘s head on his shoulder and looked back down at their wives who were currently laughing at something. 

„We are acting like children,“ he concluded, giving Benedict a self-deprecating glance when he moved his head up again. „Did we really get this dependant on our wives since we married? Can we seriously not bear it to see them be content without us?“ 

Benedict winced at his brother‘s words. „It‘s come to this. I am jealous of your wife. Now that is a phrase, I never thought I‘d utter.“ 

Anthony chuckled quietly and bumped his shoulder against his brother’s affectionately. „If it‘s any consolation, I believe I am subject to the same affliction.“ 

Benedict grinned at him and Anthony realized that he hadn‘t been spending an awful lot of time with his younger brother recently. He looked at him with fondness and placed a hand on his shoulder. 

„You know, I don‘t think I‘ve ever truly said this to you. But you‘ve grown into quite the man.“ 

Benedict‘s eyes grew large for a second, his surprise moving his features like a curtain, revealing an unexpected fragility. Then it rushed close again, avoiding the showcase of little boy emotions and replacing them with a teasing smirk - it was the Bridgerton way to deal with emotions and Anthony could not blame him for it. „Sorry,“ Benedict snickered, holding up his left hand with the wedding ring, „I am already taken.“ 

Anthony groaned in a good-natured manner, before grabbing his brother and putting him in a headlock, making him break out into boyish giggles that he certainly hadn‘t heard in a while. 

They stumbled around the room for a while, before Benedict managed to break free, bringing the sofa between them. The jealousy of their respective wives was quite healed as they looked at each other with big grins, both gasping slightly from the effort of their rough-housing. 

„Look at that,“ Anthony laughed, putting his hands on the backrest of the silky piece of furniture between them. „We can still have fun on our own, when it‘s just the two of us.“ 

„You mean,“ Benedict clarified with a grin, „that you can still have fun by means of torturing me!“ 

Anthony clicked his tongue and shook his head at him. „Come now! I didn‘t even tickle you!“ 

Narrowing his eyes to slim slits, Benedict took on a more defensive posture. „Don‘t even think about it. I am not the least bit ticklish anymore.“

Anthony barked out a taunting laugh. „Oh, sure. Care to put that to the test?“

Benedict stood up tall and held up an index finger. „I have a way better idea.“ 

Anthony was curious enough to lend him his ear. 

—————— 

You liked Kate. You liked her very much. And you were over the moon that the two of you had married a Bridgerton and were now practically family. 

She was well-read and funny and liked to make fun of her husband as much as you did of your own. Sometimes, all it took to settle an argument you‘ve been having with your respective other (not forcibly better) halves was a chat with a good friend. And Kate was one of the best.

You‘d been enjoying the afternoon together, chatting about this and that and taking a few breaks within the house to drink a cup of tea and fetch some of the books you wanted to talk about. When, quite rudely, your peaceful conversation was interrupted. 

Wailing sounds were the first you‘d heard of them, before the pair of your husbands came into sight. Benedict was practically hanging from Anthony‘s shoulder, the older brother carrying him around the rose bushes in your direction. Red stains on both of their white shirts added up to the fright their sight installed in you. 

Kate jumped to her feet, when you were still too stunned from the horrible sounds of pain Benedict was producing to move an inch.

„What happened?“ Kate shouted, running closer to them to meet them halfway. Your wobbly legs barely allowed you to get into a standing position. In your mind you were moving through water, as you approached them.

Anthony was sweating slightly from the effort of hoisting your groaning husband through the garden. 

„We were attacked.“ He rasped out, trying to position Benedict in a slightly more comfortable position with his free arm. 

„Attacked?“ Kate asked in disbelief. „By what??“

„A dog.“ „A bear.“ The brothers responded at the same time. Anthony shot his head around to glare at Benedict who was biting his lip through his rather dramatic groaning. Quickly, the elder Bridgerton recovered from the moment of surprise. 

„He‘s hallucinating!“ He quickly shot out in an attempt to explain their differing answers. 

Kate took a step back and eyed them both suspiciously, but the concern was still visible on both your faces. „Where did this happen?“ She asked, as you tried to lift Benedict‘s head with your hands to be able to look at him directly. 

His cheeks were surprisingly cold to the touch and you did not manage to find the wound that had caused the red stains on their clothes. 

„Does it matter?“ Anthony hissed at her. „I am glad I was there to save him. The animal was big enough to resemble a small bear indeed!“ 

„You didn‘t save me,“ Benedict hissed, his stance changing slightly as did his voice. „I chased it away all by myself, you merely found me.“

With narrowed eyes you watched as Benedict sent a quick glance in your direction. Too quick for your taste. Raising a brow in Kate‘s direction you suddenly found it hard not to smirk. Kate who had already crossed her arms in front of her chest and was looking at Anthony with a rather unimpressed expression. 

„Whatever you say, Benedict,“ Anthony huffed, looking at both of you as if to say that his brother had lost a marble or two. „I‘d think it best we bring you to your room to allow you to recover.“ 

„Not before you get the story straight!“ Benedict insisted, the hand that had been holding on to Anthony‘s shoulder grabbing him by his nape now. Anthony hissed in pain and loosened his grip on his brother sufficiently to make him slide down Anthony‘s side. Benedict cursed and wrapped both arms around his brother‘s neck to keep from slipping. 

You and Kate were watching the spectacle with growing interest and lessening worry. Whatever was going on, you could not say. But you did know that your beloved husbands were acting out an embarrassing scene in front of you, one, they had apparently memorized so badly that they forgot to act altogether. 

„You are clearly not in your right mind right now,“ Anthony grumbled, wrapping his arms around his brother‘s waist to hoist him up again. „You‘re bleeding and… and the blood loss is making you foolish.“

„Foolish??“ Benedict gasped, his feet searching for solid ground in his outrage. „Who is foolish?“

„Both of you quite clearly are.“ You testified lazily, bumping your shoulder against Kate‘s. „I did not expect to ever see them ridicule themselves to such extents.“

„Neither did I, to be honest,“ she mumbled, looking on with a growing interest. „It is rather entertaining.“

„I agree,“ you responded, when Benedict‘s stained arm flung in Anthony‘s face and left a big red mark on his nose. „What do you think they used for the blood? Marmalade?“

„Oh yes, it appears so.“

„You ruined it all,“ Anthony rasped furiously, trying to free himself from Benedict‘s grip and simultaneously wiping at his face. 

„I did??“ Benedict growled, keeping Anthony in half a headlock himself by this point. „You had to go off about being the hero of the day! You made me look weak!“

„Ohh, you want to look weak??“

You raised your brows in amusement, when Anthony‘s fingers started digging into your husband‘s ribs, making the younger Bridgerton gasp, before he practically started howling with laughter. 

„NO DON‘T!!“ 

Retrieving his arms from around Anthony‘s neck, he tried to brush the other‘s hands off his middle, but was twitching and cackling too hard to manage any coordinated movement. 

„ANTHONY NO!!“ He wheezed with laughter, as his brother managed to force him to the ground, the unfortunate position leaving him exposed to Anthony’s mercy. 

„I thought you said you weren‘t ticklish anymore!“ The elder Bridgerton teased with a mischievous smirk, dwelling in the raucous laughter of his younger brother. 

„That is clearly not the case.“ You chuckled, raising your shoulders cluelessly when Kate sent you a look that basically asked what on earth was happening. 

„I suppose these two needed some time alone.“ You concluded, warmth filling your chest at the thought of the brothers spending some quality time together - without their wives. 

„(Y/N)!!!“ Benedict got out between breathless giggles, „HELP ME!!! PLEASE!!“ 

You chuckled, all anger at the shock the brothers had installed within you wiped away in a single blow. 

„Am I to save you from the bear now?“

Kate laughed at your words and waggled her brows. „I think I can be of bigger support in this situation.“

Anthony shot his head around at his wife’s words and suddenly jumped off his brother like a cat that got in contact with water, when Kate stalked towards them.

„NO!“ He simply yelled, before taking off, practically running away from his wife, who - never one to shy away from a challenge - chased right after him. 

Benedict remained gasping on the ground, his cheeks reddened from laughter and his eyes reflecting the glow that came with the tears mirth could bring about.

You bit down on your lip to keep from smiling and quickly walked over to drop down on top of him, chuckling when he held up his arms defensively. „No more, please!! No more!“

Grinning from ear to ear, you took his hands to interlock your fingers. „I think you‘ve suffered quite enough revenge for your little prank.“ 

Sheepishly your husband groaned at your words, closing his eyes and tilting back his head. „It sounded like the perfect plan to get your attention, back when we came up with it.“

„That‘s because you turn into a ninnyhead, when you and your brother are together.“

With a grin you took in your husband‘s indignation.

„Did you just call me a ninnyhead?“

„The loveliest ninnyhead of all!“

Benedict squinted his eyes at you and tried to come up with a retort. Quickly he realized that he had none and instead broke out into soft chuckles. He removed his hands from your grasp and brought them to your hips to pull you even closer to him, your fingers moving to his face to caress his cheeks. „Is it a crime that I was dying to get your attention?“

„Not at all. It was simply ridiculous. Especially the part with the marmalade!“ 

Benedict shook his head at himself and even blushed a little. „I suppose love makes you do silly things.“

You smiled at him, bending down to join your lips together. „Love does. Your love for me surely. But apparently brotherly love is not to be excluded.“

Benedict snorted, but his eyes revealed the truth of your words. He would always be Anthony‘s little brother. And that bond was no less important than the one you two shared. 

[berryz-writes]

Game Night

Azriel x reader

Summary: Game night with your mate and the IC. Safe to say your ready to fight Cassian. Mostly fluff at the end

I was inspired after the game of monopoly with my cousins. it was extremely chaotic😭

I leaned in even closer my head resting against his chest, his head ever so slightly resting on the top of my head. I was sat, very comfily, on Azriel's lap his wings cocooning us into a warm and peaceful environment.

"Az? Can you stop making y/n so comfy?" Mor asked from across the room choosing her character. I looked up at Azriel who had a small smile on his face. His hand tightened around my waist, his other hand continuing the circles he was making on my thigh.

"I will do whatever my mate tells me to do. If she wants to play she plays. If she wants to sleep she sleeps." Azriel said to Mor pressing a warm kiss to my head.

I sat up a little and slid off of Azriel's lap to sit next to him, he looked a little disgruntled but all the same kept his arm around my waist his left wing around my back. "She's right. I want to play but it's just- your too comfy." He raised an eyebrow at my statement. He was probably confused as to whether I was complimenting him or not.

"You can come sit on my lap, y/n" Cassian said grinning. Nesta whacked him on the arm, earning a surprised yelp from him. "Sorry, love. I didn't mean it" He muttered.

The monopoly game soon started and of course the rules were changing as the game went on. That was one reason why Elain had opted out and had instead taken up Lucien's request to join him for dinner. Her evening was probably more peaceful than mine was currently going.

I stood up ready to kick Cassian out of the game "Cassian! You can't just land on pay two hundred and then proceed to put it in the bank. It's supposed to go in the middle"

He stood up crossing his arms "It goes in the bank! NOT THE FUCKING MIDDLE! I'm not-"

"Watch your tone" Azriel interrupted, his voice threatening and causing Cassian to send me a wink "he's whipped" he mouthed at me, earning the middle finger from Azriel.

"Why is it going in the middle? I thought-" Mor added, trying to hide her money behind her so we wouldn't know how much she had. It was quiet obvious. 

"It's not, it goes in the bank. Where did that rule even come from?" Rhys asked, annoyed that the game had stopped because he was currently winning and he wanted to continue charging us every time we landed on one of his properties.

Feyre rested a hand on his arm to calm him down "It goes in the middle because when someone else lands on free parking they get the money. Otherwise what would be the point of landing on free parking if you don't get anything?" She tried explaining. Cassian just looked even more angry and Rhys decided it was best to agree with whatever his mate was saying.

I clapped my hands at Feyre "Thank you! At least someone knows the rules"

"I'm putting it in the bank, none of you even know how to play" Cassian snatched the two hundred from the middle and handed it to Azriel who was playing as the banker. Azriel shook his head putting the money back in the middle.

"It's not going in the bank, mate." He looked tired from all the unnecessary arguing that was going on.

Cassian tried to shove it in himself "It does! Just let me put it in"

"Hands off the bank or else your ass is out of the game" Azriel said. Cassian reluctantly took his hands back and crossed his arms looking angry.

"Cassian just put it in the middle! Someone else could end up with it. It could be you if you land on free parking" I said stretching out my hand for the money.

"Nes! A little help here" Cassian said to Nesta pleading with her. Nesta merely shook her head "You wanted to play. So play. Teams don't work in monopoly sweetheart"

After a few more minutes of arguing and a few more refusals of Azriel not accepting Cassian's money, he put it in the middle and the game carried on. Eventually Mor got the money and made sure to tease Cassian with it as much as possible.

"Whatever. We'll see who wins" Cassian muttered sulkily. Nesta patted him on the arm "I'm sure you'll win"

We all knew he wasn't going to. Rhys in fact won. Then it was Nesta, Azriel and then me and Feyre in joint fourth. Mor came second to last because she forgot she had stashed her money behind her and so became bankrupt. And last but not least came Cassian who kept landing on Rhys's properties and eventually had no money left. He survived for half the game, a new record for him. He seemed extremely pissed but all the same asked "So, should we play again?"

"If you mean without yourself then sure" Rhys said looking rather pleased with his win.

"How about a game of cards? They're a little less...chaotic" Feyre asked reaching for a deck of cards and shuffling them.

Everyone agreed, readying themselves to play. I wasn't really someone who enjoyed playing cards so I opted out and settled back onto Azriel's lap, resting my head in the crook of his neck. He smelt delicious like usual. Like wind, smoke, musk something so delightfully intoxicating. And something that made me sleepy. Everyone's voices had become more distant, almost as if someone had turned their volume down. All I could hear was the low hum of their conversation and feel the slight rumble of Azriel's deep voice whenever he talked.

I felt Azriel tilt his head slightly down to look at me. I looked up at him snuggling in closer to his warmth. I pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw earning a small smile from him.

"We can go up if your sleepy" He said quietly so only I could hear. I shook my head resting my hand on his chest. "You need to win for the both of us"

His lips quirked up even more. Those perfect lips. Lips that I wanted all over me. "Sweetheart, your eyes are closing without you even realising" He brushed a strand of hair out of my face.

"No they're not. Win for me Azriel"

"Ok, love. Whatever you say" He pressed another kiss to my head and let his shadows cocoon me so I could just barely hear their conversation. It was almost like a lulling buzz in the background.

*later on

I woke up to find myself in our gigantic bed (Illyrian wings were no joke) my face pressed into his chest. One of his hand cradled the back of my head while the other was wrapped around my waist. His wings were behind him, the warm blanket being enough for the night. Although it wasn't cold I still liked the feeling of the heavy weight of his wings draped over me. It felt like we were safe. Nothing could pull us apart.

I looked up at Azriel to see he was already awake. He smiled at me. A small dimple appearing in his cheek, his hazel eyes full of warmth. I kissed his cheek and then left a small kiss on his perfect lips.

"Your cute when you smile" I whispered to him. It was still night outside but because the curtain was left open I could just about make him out in the moonlight.

"And your gorgeous every single moment of the day" His voice was deep and full of tiredness. I reached up, my arm trying to get to his wing. He let it drop closer to me so I could gently pull it down onto me until it was draped over me like I wanted.

"Not too warm for you, sweetheart?" He asked rubbing his thumb up and down my bare skin, where my nightshirt had ridden up.

"No. Now go to sleep, shadow singer." I nuzzled back into his chest and let myself fall into a dreamless sleep.

MASTERLIST

[amidnightjen]

“A toothbrush?” Hen repeats, eyebrows high and tone extremely dubious.

“A toothbrush,” Eddie confirms.

“Your girlfriend broke up with you because of a toothbrush?” Ravi clarifies, he’s not the only one seeking that clarification either, Eddie can tell he beat Chim to the question only because he didn’t have his mouth full.

“Yes,” Eddie confirms (again), sounding a little more disgruntled this time about it.

Chim finally swallows his mouthful to ask, “Is this like a metaphor?”

Eddie shrugs. “I don’t know.” And he doesn’t, that’s the thing. He’s got no damn idea why a toothbrush (of all things) had Marisol breaking things off before they’d even really gotten started.

“I’m going to need more than this,” Hen says. “What kind of toothbrush?”

Exasperated, all Eddie can say is, “I don’t know - a toothbrush.”

“I mean,” Chim says thoughtfully, “did she not like the colour? Were the bristles too hard? Maybe it wasn’t about the toothbrush but the toothpaste on the brush - do you have weird toothpaste taste?”

That earns Chim a confused look from everyone but he just shrugs which Eddie finds fair because he honestly doesn’t know. “I don’t have weird toothpaste,” Eddie defends.

“I like your toothpaste,” Buck announces, dropping down into the chair beside Eddie. “Why are we talking about Eddie’s toothpaste?”

“We’re talking about Eddie’s toothbrush,” Hen clarifies and even as she does, she looks like she can’t believe that’s a sentence she’s found herself saying.

“Eddie’s toothbrush?” Buck repeats, sounding just as confused as when he thought they were talking about toothpaste.

“Not my toothbrush,” Eddie groans. “It wasn’t even mine!”

“Wait,” and this comes from Bobby who looks as though he can’t believe he’s joining in this conversation, “Marisol broke up with you because of Christopher’s toothbrush?”

“Marisol broke up with you?” Buck says, “Sorry man.”

Eddie waves off Buck’s words, he’s not all that broken up about it honestly, just genuinely stuck on how a toothbrush could possibly be reason enough to break up with someone. “No it wasn’t Chris’ toothbrush, Jesus.”

“I’m so confused,” Buck said.

“Me too,” added Ravi.

But Hen, Hen had a look on her face and there was a note in her voice he couldn’t identify as she asked, “Whose toothbrush was it?”

“Buck’s.”

And Eddie has no idea why that is suddenly explanation enough for everyone.

Well except Buck.

[iinryer]

a little scene prompt game to get me writing!

from @eddiesgaymustache: “what about 3....... 😳🤝🫠 or 🌈🦭✨ ........ the world is your oyster”

[😳🤝🫠 + 3: hiding face in neck]

“Don’t think I can’t see that!” Chim calls, sing-songy and bright, from where he’s making his way to the kitchen.

Eddie tears himself away and immediately tucks his hands under his own arms, face burning. Buck just makes a disgruntled sound from where he’s been dozing with his head tilted against the back of the sofa for the past fifteen minutes, now awoken and obviously confused.

“Oh god, what are they doing now,” Hen drops her book down from where she was reading at the table, holding her empty coffee cup up for Chim to grab over her shoulder on his way past. Despite the implication of reproach, her tone is much too gleeful for Eddie’s liking. He narrows his eyes at her. She grins lazily back at him.

“I was literally asleep!” Buck groans—whines, maybe—scrubbing at his eyes, “What did I do!”

“PDA!” Chimney shouts, head in the cabinet where he’s rummaging around, before emerging with a jar of peanut butter and continuing, “PDA is what you did!”

Hen makes a disappointed tsk tsk tsk sound, putting on an air of aloofness and pretending as though she’s already returned to reading her book when she adds, “We did have an agreement,”

“The agreement!,” Chimney echoes, clenching a fist theatrically, “is nothing sacred in this house?”

“Ugh,” Buck pouts, matching Chimney’s energy, “you’re so dramatic. We’re not allowed to sit next to each other anymore?”

Eddie sinks a little into the sofa, absolutely burning with the flush across his face.

“Sitting, I can forgive. But hand-holding?,” Chim says, closing a drawer as punctuation, “I dare say that’s a public display of affection, little brother,”

Buck’s posturing immediately melts into sleepy fondness as his gaze snaps to Eddie, and says, “Aw… you were holding my hand?”

Which just causes Hen and Chim to break out into a chorus of gagging and groaning.

“Alright, alright,” Bobby placates from where he’s cresting the stairs to the loft, amusement clearly painted across his put-upon captain’s demeanor, “I think they have a right to a little unobtrusive hand holding,”

“Excuse you!” Chim says with mock affront, pointing with the spoonful of peanut butter he’s just scavenged, “It is my right—nay, my privilege—nay! My duty! My privileged duty, as newly minted brother, to embarrass one Evan Buckley,”

Eddie opens his mouth to argue that Buck is not the only one being embarrassed here, when Chimney directs his peanut butter scepter Eddie’s way and adds,

“And if his boyfriend gets caught in the crossfire,” he pauses for dramatic effect, before decreeing with a lofted spoon: “so be it!”

And the thing is, it’s new.

The boyfriend of it all.

And it just makes his flush blaze anew as something pleased and hungry and elated blooms so strongly and suddenly in his chest and has to fold over into Buck.

“Ohh, that got you, huh?” Buck coos, teasing and affectionate and full of love as he wraps an arm around Eddie’s shoulders, easily accepting the way Eddie tucks his face into the juncture of his shoulder and neck to hide his blush.

The heckling picks up, Buck shakes with laughter underneath him, and Eddie snakes his arm across Buck’s lap to grasp onto his hand again.

[vixensbrainrotts]

Aren’t you jealous? — Takashi Mitsuya

Content: short fluff

Tropes: established relationships, miscommunication

Warnings: not proof read

Summary: You and Mitsuya who have an undying trust in one another. So much so that when Mistuya is being too nice for his own good and then struggles under the reprocution, you just sit back, grin, and watch.

Vixen's two cents: hey! This has been collecting dust in the back of my drafts so I've decided to give it some love and let it see the light of day. I love mitsuya till the day I die and it's only a matter of time till I write something for Hakkai too (cutie). Anyway, remember that my requests are open if you have au idea you'd like to see! Now enjoy!

You take joy in watching Mitsuya grow uncomfortable around the overly-friendly girl who’s hanging off him like a tick. You had told him that she was no good before but he didn’t seem to care all that much, assuring you that he could handle it. Look who’s laughing now.

And when Hakkai comes up to you, face tinged pink with confusion (perhaps frustration?), and asks you why you’re not doing anything. You just smile and say “He can handle it, and if not I’ll know when to step in.”

Kai's eyes almost pop out of their sockets, his jaw basically hitting the floor. "What do you meannnn?" he whined in disbelief. "I mean that he did that to himself, I told him not to." You looked far too relaxed for Hakkai's liking and leaned back against one of the bar chairs on the kitchen island, one hand supporting your chin, the other grasping your drink.

"Youre just gonna let that happen?" Hakkai prompts again, completely baffled. "Yeah, look, he's coming crawling to me already." You smirk teasingly and nod your head in their direction. Mitsuya, clearly displeased, was weaving his way out of the girl's grasp, making a bee-line to where you and Hakkai were, but ever incessant on wooing him, the girl followed right after him.

"Hey there." you started once he entered your circle. Mitsuya and you made brief eye contact, his gaze screaming a plea before he looked to Hakkai, to whom he gave a weak greeting. “Hi.” He breathed, voice exhausted and annoyed as he rested both arms on the counter he was lying on.

"You seem... glowing." Hakkai tries to comment awkwardly, seeing the girl weasel her way to where the three of you are standing. Mitsuya only offers a disgruntled groan in return.

"Takashiiiiii! Are these your freindssss? you wanna introduce me already??? Hahahahahahah that's so sweet!!" The girl squealed and clung herself to his arm, resting her head on his shoulder. Your ears rung at her obnoxious laughter, the noise foreign and fake. The air grew uncomfortable when Mitsuya didnt respond,so she took the liberty of introducing herself, drawing out the short speech with elaborate (unnesseary) details, reaching over the counter to shake your hand.

You only looked at her, unimpressed, and look at her a bit pitifully. "This is the catch of the night Mr. Mitsuya?" you smiled down at the heap of a man, and he groaned in response. "Yes Mrs. Mitsuya, it seems that something got caught up in my net." It was a running gag between you two- and your friends to some sort: Mr and Mrs despite not being wed. It was clear that it was forever between you two though, so everyone just kinda went with it.

Little Miss disturbance didn't know of that though, and upon looking down at your hands and finding one (the wrong) ring finger embezzled with a promise ring, her mouth widened. Jaw on the floor and hands clammy, she slowly stepped away from Takashi and retreated. Fast. "It was, ah, uhh, pleasure meeting you mr and mrs mitsuya, let me know if you ever need a babysitter.”

Hakkai laughed out loud and clutched his stomach “You’re the best y/n! Man you totally owned her just now! Fuckin' wear the pants!" Te laughed and clapped a hand on Takashi’s shoulder, who had still not risen from his slumped pose. "You better not hire her though, I'll do it for free, swear I wanna watch your little beasts <3" Hakkai's voice had a serious edge now and he looked at you. "Make sure to tell me if he ever dares to treat you wrong. I'll rock his shit!"

Sighing you nod at Hakkai with a smile "Thanks Kai. Will do." you rounded the kitchen island and came to stand to next Takashi, resting your hand on his arm. "Good evening Mr. Mitsuya.” he pulled his head from the counter. "Good evening Mrs. Mitsuya." his drowsy eyes met yours - smiling as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You smiled back, and before long your lips met his in a soft exchange of endearment.

Out of the corner of your eye you could see Hakkai turn red and turn away with a shy smile on his face too.

[coryosbaby]

:¨ ·.· ¨:

`· . Be my daddy

(Dark! Dbf! Joel miller x reader)

A/N: tryna get my swag back u guys. Also if there r any spelling mistakes I’m sorry 🙏🏻

Masterlist

Thinking ab creepy n pervy Joel making you grind against your teddy bear in the middle of the night after sneaking into your room.. n then fucking your brains out after <3

Warning: 18+, somnophilia, pervy behavior, slight dubcon, possessiveness, overall dark themes// age gap (reader is in her 20s, joel is in his 50s), masturbation, cum play, grinding, daddy kink, spit, breeding kink, spanking, choking, size kink, creampie, multiple orgasms, dbf! Joel my beloved <3

Joel was always quite impatient.

And after a long night of drinking and watching the new football game with your father, he’s become tense. As fun as it is to sit and conversate with his best friend, his head is reeling now. He notes to the man beside him that he’s going to bed. A nod, as your father agrees the same.

And a few minutes later, as Joel leans against the closed door inside your bedroom, he watches you with his cock in his hand.

Of course, like the good girl you are, you had decided to go to bed early. You were on a college schedule, after all. So Joel hadn’t seen you all night. Not being able to catch sight of that familiar head of hair, tits out and ass bouncing under those short skirts you love so much, frustrated the man to no end. He grunts as his thumb moves over the slit of his girthy length, as he watches the way your breasts heave with each passing breath you let out. He’s surprised he hasn’t been caught yet. He’s been doing it every night that he comes over, after all.

He knows it’s wrong. But fuck, you’re so delectable; your curves are absolutely stunning, your lips perfectly full and plump, your thighs plush and soft. He can’t resist watching you. And it’s as if you want him to do this. You know he lives next to you, you know that he can see inside your room from your window that has no curtains, can watch you change and masturbate and do whatever the fuck else. You’re just begging for him to fuck your tight cunt.

It’s a wonder that he hasn’t done it sooner.

He moves a bit closer. Just close enough to be near the foot of your bed. The thought of you catching him like this gives him a thrill. His cock kicks when you turn over onto your side to face him. Your eyes are still shut, your brain still sleeping numbly.

“There she is.” Joel manages to breathe out through his sharp inhales. You look like an angel to him.

Your nipples are hard through your silky white slip. Joel can notice them now, as they make two small lumps in the fabric. Your tits are pushed together from the position you’re in. And Joel’s favorite part: your legs are stuck in between the fat of your thighs. It’s always been the kind of position you’ve laid in, as the warmth from your legs pussy brings you a sort of comfort. Joel can feel himself nearing his high.

And since he’s already doing it, what’s so wrong about moving a little… closer?

Bringing his strong arm down, he holds onto the wall as he kneels down on the edge of your bed. He’s so close now, your face a mere few inches away from his cock. He continues to stroke the skin of his shaft, watching your full eyelashes and pretty lips.

“God,” he murmurs. You can’t hear him, but that doesn’t stop Joel from running his mouth regardless. “Gonna cum all over this slutty little face, darlin’..”

And he does just that. His abdomen clenches, head thrown back as he begins to squirt warm ropes of semen all over your face. He lets out a very loud groan.

And of course, finally, that wakes you up.

When your eyes peel open, the first thing that comes to mind is that..

Your face is fucking wet.

That’s what you gather. So, you bring your fingers up to wipe- Elmer’s glue, maybe?- out of the sockets of your eyes. And when you look up, you see Joel.

A confused and disgruntled “what..?” Sounds from your mouth, and then when you see Joel looking down at you, you begin to take sight of him. He’s still jacking his cock.

“Joel?”

The man’s mouth falls open, another wave of pleasure rippling through him. He’s getting hard for the second time in a row. Your brows furrow as you look down. It must be too dark and you must be too tired to fully grasp what act your dad’s friend is commiting.

“Joel.. what’re you doing?” You sleepily mumble. It’s quickly replaced by a gasp of surprise when his hand goes up to grope your breasts, his rings cold against the bare skin of your collarbones. He becomes desperate, practically clawing at your soft body to get a taste of you. His tongue goes up to the apples of your cheeks. He kisses you there, soft. And then, the soft muscle inside his mouth runs along the ridges of your skin. His own cum connects to his lips in a sticky white string.

“Sorry baby,” he groans. “ couldn’t help myself...”

His thumb runs across your bottom lip, legs resting in between your spread ones, and he kisses you. You’re awake now, with enough brain power to register what’s actually happening. But if you’re being honest, you don’t want him to stop. Your hands shyly go up to his hair, still a bit disoriented. His messy locks are soft underneath your fingertips as he begins to slip his jizz soaked tongue into your mouth. Your eyes flutter shut, heat beginning to gather in a pool between your legs. You can taste his cum as it evades your taste buds, musky and salty. Pulling away, you can feel his cock press against your thigh.

“Did you…” looking down, his stiffness is right there. Wet and hard and incredibly prominent, now. A small whine escapes you. “Joe…”

“‘M so hard for your cute little face, darlin’…got me gettin’ it up twice.”

That makes you mewl, as his mouth moves down to your neck. Your virginal hands shakily grasp his hair. On a particularly harsh tug, Joel groans. You think you’ve hurt him and done something wrong, and your nervous mouth begins to spew apologies. “Joe.. never done this before, ‘m sorry..”

Joel moans, maneuvering your body so he’s on his knees and in between your spread thighs. Your innocence makes his brain turn to mush.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetness. You’re such a good girl.”

He says it as he slips off his shirt, exposing his broad chest and muscles to you. A hard working man, Joel Miller is definitely built to hold things the way he wants them. So when his pants are finally removed, he uses his strong arms to lift your body and move the both of your upper parts towards the end of the bed. There’s more space, now, less stuffed animals and things.

There’s a moment of stillness, and then your hands are wrapping around a familiar furry object as you land down onto the mattress. It’s your stuffed teddy bear, the one Joel had gifted you for your birthday last year. It’s pink, with a bright red bow wrapped around its neck and a pair of black button eyes. You had named it Teddy, and it’s your favorite plushy.

Joel’s eyes move to your hand around it, and he smiles, amused.

“Does my baby want her teddy bear? Hm?”

His voice is teasing, but he brings it away from your grip and lifts himself away from your body. You whine, trying to grab his hands and put them back on you, but the man doesn’t budge.

“No,” he says. “I want you to use your teddy. Do you think you can do that?”

Your face flushes. It’s vulgar and filthy to suggest such a thing, but you want Joel to be proud of you. You’re hesitant, though. You’ve never done this before, and your cheeks heat up in embarrassment when you quietly ask, “Can you teach me?”

Joel isn’t one to deprive you of a good lesson. “Of course.”

And that’s when he’s flipping your nightgown up to your chest. Your tits are exposed, along with your bare pussy hitting the night air. There’s no point in wearing underwear in this hot weather, after all. The sudden movement surprises you, and you’re quick to try and conceal yourself. Joel just laughs at your shyness.

“You’re beautiful, darlin’. Don’t do that.”

With hesitation you bring your hands away from your most private parts. Joel’s eyes turn dark, expression laced with lust. “Spread your legs for me.”

It’s a demand, and when your face heats up and you begin to slowly undo them, the man rolls his eyes and yanks them apart with his own hands.

His eyes practically roll back at the sight of your pulsing cunt. You’re soaked, juices dripping down the expanse of your pussy lips, practically swollen and begging to have a cock between them. Your clit is poking through, and Joel might be going crazy but he swears he can see the cute little pearl throbbing.

“God, look at that..” his finger ghosts over your slit, and then he’s using to of his fingers to expose your unused hole to him. “My little girl is so pretty, isn’t she? Little cunt is so small, too… don’t know if my big cock can fit in such a tiny little pussy.”

The force of his words makes you gush, and you shake your head at the thought of not being able to take him. He chuckles at your reaction. You exhale shakily, watching as his fingers still toys with your body. But then he grabs the teddy bear and begins to ghost its plastic nose over the inside of your thigh.

“Teddy’s gonna show you how to play with your pretty pussy. And I’m gonna watch. Okay?”

You nod quickly. You’re aching, and you’ll do anything to relieve it. And even though this all happened so suddenly, you can’t help but be happy that Joel is giving you this much attention. He’s been around for years, has been there with you through everything, and now that you’re all grown up you can let him take what he wants.

“Yeah, d—“ you pause, and the look on Joel’s face makes you flush with embarrassment. “—Joel. Yeah…” You stutter. A smile forms on his handsome face, as he presses Teddy’s nose right up against your clit.

“You can say it, honey,” he murmurs. “I’ll be your daddy. Use your holes and breed this little pussy just how I like. Don’t that sound nice? Daddy fucking his cum into your little belly?”

You clench at his words, your face practically on fire. You begin to grind against the bear’s nose.

“T-Talk to me more…” you say. Joel smiles, watches the look of frustration appear across your face when he lets go of the plushie and lets it rest against your cunt with no pressure. “Daddy, please!”

“I will, honey. But you have to make yourself feel good, for now. I’ll fuck you when you’ve earned it.”

You mewl as you bring your palm down and press the bear’s nose back against your clit. You begin to move your hips, twisting and turning the stuffed animal in a way that makes your eyes roll back in pleasure. Joel puts his cock back in his hand and jacks himself off with vigor as you practically fuck the bear with your pussy.

“Feel good, baby? Teddy’s nose on your little clit?” Joel murmurs. “Look at you, gorgeous—“ a grin spreads across his face, almost sadistic. He twists his wrist and practically drools down his chin when your doe eyes look up at him, desperate and pleading.

“Wonder what your daddy would think if he figured out you found a new one.”

That shouldn’t make you drip down your thighs, but it does.

“D-Don’t say that, Joel—” you exhale sharply, as your face takes on a look of frustration. The bear isn’t doing enough for you. “Maybe I should find someone else if you aren’t going to fuck me..”

That comment makes Joel mad, and his expression turns dark. With a rough hand he uses your thighs to flip you over onto your hands and knees. Your eyes widen at his sudden change in demeanor, and his palm comes down hard on your left cheek. You gasp, burying your head in your blanket. The teddy bear is thrown next to your face as Joel harshly gropes your ass.

“Don’t tell me what to do, little girl,” he growls. “I’ll say what I damn please. Now hold onto that teddy bear while I split your little cunt open. Because I’m the only one who can.” His breath is hot on your ear, a bit of fear beginning to sweep into your psyche (and maybe a bit of arousal beginning to drip onto the bed). “You understand me, bitch? You’re mine.”

You nod, as much as you can in your position. And when you feel the tip of Joel’s length press against your hole, you begin to stutter.

“W-Wait! Daddy, I-I don’t know if I’m wet enough…”

“Oh, you’re wet enough, baby.” Joel infers, as he looks down at your glistening snatch. “Trust me.”

And when he pushes in, the burning stretch makes your eyes widen. Although not as uncomfortable as you originally expected it to be, he’s still above average; this would be hard for any experienced woman to take, let alone a young virgin like yourself. You cry out, pussy clenching around the cock penetrating your womb. Joel’s eyes are rolled back, sweat beginning to drip down his forehead as he tries to keep himself still.

“Gotta loosen up, baby,” Joel moans. “Gonna cum quick if you keep clenchin’ like that.”

“Can’t help it, daddy, ‘m sorry..” you cry, as he presses in more. After a moment you feel his hips press against you, his cock fully in. He rests there, waiting for you to ask him to move.

“Good?” He murmurs, questionably. You can feel every vein, every ridge of him inside, and it makes you nod dumbly.

“Yes sir.”

“Atta girl.” he praises. He makes one shallow thrust of his hips. It feels odd to you, and a bit painful. But on the next few thrusts, it has your toes curling in carnal pleasure. He feels so hot and warm, and when he grabs your throat from behind and bends you towards him, he presses a kiss to your neck.

“Doin’ so good. Doggy is the hardest position too, baby. You’re such a quick learner.”

And that’s what you like about Joel. He pushes you over your limits, makes you succeed them, go farther than before and then makes you feel amazing about it. In your hazy mind, Joel is practically a god right now.

“T-Thank you, daddy..”

A strangled moan comes out as he picks up his pace and begins to pound you at a rapid rate. The sound of skin on skin feels the room as Joel’s thighs slap against yours.

“So— fuckin’ good for me,” he growls. “Good girl. Going dumb on her daddy’s cock like the desperate little slut she’s supposed to be.”

Your eyes roll back, and he grabs your throat and squeezes hard. Your juices drip down his aching prick and he watches as your cunt swallows him whole. He chuckles when he feels you clenching him unusually hard.

“Gonna cum, darlin’? Or do you need me to touch you some more?”

“Need…” your eyes flutter shut, as you go brain dead on his cock. There’s a small string of desperate pleas of the man’s name in between your sentence.“Need you to touch my clit— Please, daddy, t-touch my clit! Make me cum!”

And then Joel’s fingers are coming down to your slick pearl, rubbing it between his two fingers as you release all over him. Your juices are gushing, squirting all over him and the bed, and Joel honestly doesn’t know how you can be any more perfect. He moans as you cream on him, and with a few more thrusts he’s filling your womb up with his seed.

The only thing left is you and Joel’s shared harsh breaths. Your legs shake as you stay buried in the mattress. It’s too hard to get up right now.

And that’s when you hear the loud voice beginning to come from outside as someone bangs on your bedroom door.

“Y/N! You better not have any boys in my house this late! I can hear you from downstairs! ”

You and Joel freeze. It’s your father, on the other side of the door.

And when the man looks across the hall, he catches sight of the empty and deserted room that his best friend has been staying in for months. You and Joel look at each other with wide eyes as your dad begins to scream, enraged.

“Joel?! Are you in there?!”

[bosbas]

Chapter 2: I didn't have it in myself to go with grace

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader WC: 2.0k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, negative self-talk (Colin bby🥺🤏), a small part of the dialogue is in French

Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?

April 16, 1816 – And of course, one cannot forget to mention Lady Y/N Montclair, who looked like a vision in her emerald dress at the Danbury Ball last night. Her presence seemed to cast a spell over the gentlemen in attendance, and they were practically lining up to engage her in conversation. It was a sight to behold, watching them swoon over her. However, one can hardly blame them, given how effortlessly graceful she was. It appears Lady Montclair will have more than enough gentlemen to choose from this season…

Eloise scoffed and rolled her eyes, the newest Whistledown in hand as she sat on a couch in the tearoom. “My word, if she hadn’t been in Tuscany last season I would think Lady Montclair herself was Lady Whistledown! She’s only been here two days and she’s already been mentioned more than most of the ton.”

Benedict chuckled from his seat across the room, shooting a look at a disgruntled-looking Colin who was trying very hard to make it seem like he wasn’t listening to Eloise reading Whistledown’s account of the ball. 

“I’d wager that Colin is Whistledown, actually. I’m convinced after today’s column,” Benedict said teasingly, taking a bite out of an apple as he analyzed the sketch in front of him. 

“First of all, I don’t even write like Whistledown, which you would know if you read the letters I sent while I was in Greece,” Colin shot back, irritated. “And second, even if I were, I certainly would not have spent two full pages talking about Lady Montclair. I’m sure I have no idea why Whistledown thought she warranted such a large portion of the column today.” 

The words felt bitter and unpleasant in his mouth, and he regretted them instantly. He knew he sounded petulant, but he couldn’t help his defensive tone after last night. Eloise, catching onto Colin’s tone, cocked her head toward Benedict and raised an eyebrow in confusion.  

“She didn’t want to dance with him,” explained Benedict, sounding highly amused about what was one of the more embarrassing things to happen to Colin. 

Eloise burst out laughing. “No! A woman who didn’t want to dance with Colin? Something must be incredibly wrong in the world! How could she have said no to London’s golden boy? And on his first day back! Shall we call for a medic?”

Colin felt the blood rushing to his face and his cheeks warming, not particularly pleased to have to deal with his sister's teasing today. He knew he was being ridiculous, that much was clear. You were only one person who hadn’t wanted to dance with him. But you had just looked so beautiful, and the way your eyes had lit up when you laughed with your brother was so enchanting, that he fashioned himself half in love with you already. 

It was slightly gut-wrenching to know you didn't feel the same way. He must have done something, Colin reasoned. No one had ever not liked Colin simply because of who he was, and he was more than a little concerned that you seemed to be the first. 

Eloise had been joking, of course, when she called Colin London’s golden boy. But it wasn’t as much of a joke as he would have liked. Anthony was a viscount, and Benedict was a successful artist with a painting in the national gallery, but what did he have to offer? He was just aimlessly traveling the world, documenting his travels in a journal no one would ever read. His own family didn’t even read his letters, for Christ’s sake. He was a third son with no talents, and the only thing he could do was lean into his charm and good nature and hope that people liked him anyway. And he had been relatively successful thus far. Except for with you, it seemed.

Noting Colin’s uncharacteristic grim mood, Eloise briefly panicked, wondering if she had gone too far. With a far softer tone, she added, “Maybe her dance card was full, Colin. It doesn’t mean she didn’t want to dance.”

But Colin shook his head, placing his chin on his hand. “I highly doubt it.”

He knew better than to assume the best. He was remarkably skilled at reading people, but even without that, it had not been difficult to tell that you were full of contempt. For him or someone else, he couldn’t be completely sure, but the way you had been laughing and smiling with everyone except for him was a particularly useful hint. 

Before he could dwell further, Violet entered the tearoom. “We’ll be going to Hyde Park to promenade today, darlings.” It was far easier to coerce her children into doing her bidding when she didn’t give them a choice. 

Ignoring their grumbling, she left the room, calling out over her shoulder, “Be ready in one hour!” 

---

Colin had barely been at the park five minutes before he spotted you, and he drew in a sharp breath. God, it was infuriating. You were wearing a cream-colored dress, chatting pleasantly with your mother, and he wanted to scream. Of course, you looked completely breathtaking. It was exactly what he needed when he was already nervous about approaching you. 

During the carriage ride, he had decided to try to speak to you again. To be your friend, at the very least. Perhaps you did not want him as a suitor, but the thought of someone in the ton actively disliking him was nauseating. 

So, he steeled himself, staring longingly at you. Now was as good a time as any because, for some miraculous reason, there seemed to be no men hounding you at the moment. You had separated yourself from your family slightly, silently observing who he could only assume was one of your older sisters and her husband. 

He made his way over to you, hands fidgeting behind his back nervously. Swallowing down his fear, he cleared his throat as he approached you, a soft smile on his face. 

“Lady Montclair, it’s lovely to see you here today. I believe we may have gotten off on the wrong foot at the ball last night, and I wanted to offer an apology.” Your face was completely blank, not giving anything away, and Colin found himself a tad more nervous than he was when he first walked up to you. “Perhaps we could promenade?” he finished weakly. 

An apology? What on earth was Colin Bridgerton on about? There was no way he’d seen you in the hallway, right? 

“An apology, Mr. Bridgerton? Whatever for?” you asked carefully, not giving anything away. 

Colin cleared his throat awkwardly. He wasn’t quite sure himself, to be honest. “Well, I’m afraid I might have offended you by asking to dance so suddenly. It might have been a bit brash to ask for a dance without a proper introduction first.”

You almost sagged in relief. Your reputation was safe. Though now you seemed irrationally angry, despising Colin for no apparent reason. However, it wasn’t in your nature to make nice with someone who viewed women simply as breeding stock.  

Curtly, you responded, “I can assure you, Mr. Bridgerton, that that did not offend me. Had we been properly introduced, my answer would have been the same.”

“Oh,” he said softly. 

You stared at him blankly, with no hint of warmth in your gaze. Sensing your hostility, he promptly turned away from you, returning to his family. Anger burned in his chest. What the hell was your problem with him? He’d barely spoken two words to you, and you had acted like he had offended your entire bloodline. 

When his anger subsided, Colin had a sobering thought. For the first time in his charmed life, someone simply did not care for him. And the worst part? He hadn’t even caused it. Colin, who prided himself on his charm and wit, found himself in the position of being disliked without cause. 

He suddenly felt very inadequate. It was a foreign feeling, and it settled quite uncomfortably in his chest. If you were determined to hate him, so be it. But to hate him without reason? That, Colin could not agree to.

If you insisted on casting him as the villain in your narrative, then he would play the role with ease. If you wanted a reason to dislike him, then a reason you would have.

You stared after Colin, eyes narrowed. His ability to act like a complete gentleman would have been impressive if it wasn’t so disturbing. 

“Ma grande,” your mother called, coming to your side (My dear). “Did I just see you being rude to Colin Bridgerton? He left fairly quickly,” she scolded gently. 

“Non, maman. Ne t'inquiète pas,” you assured (No, Mom. Don’t worry). Upon seeing her unimpressed look, you switched to English. “It was just a misunderstanding.”

“Well, you don’t seem to like him very much,” she observed.

You let out a nervous laugh, waving her comment away. “I don’t know him well enough to dislike him, maman!” 

You needed something to distract her from this line of questioning. Your mother knew you well enough to tell when you were lying, and she would be positively furious if she uncovered the real reason why you despised Mr. Bridgerton. 

Fortunately, a distraction arrived by the name of Lord Arthur Barlow. 

“Lord Barlow,” your mother called out excitedly. “Allow me the pleasure of introducing my daughter, Y/N Montclair.”

“Lady Montclair,” he smiled warmly, stretching his hand out to you. “A name as lovely as its bearer, I daresay.”

 “Lord Barlow,” you answered shyly, placing your hand in his. You felt your cheeks heating up as he kissed the back of your hand, and you were taken aback. This entirely charming man had disarmed you completely in a matter of seconds. 

"Lord Barlow, the Duke of Monmouth," your mother announced with a flourish, her eyes bright with approval at the budding acquaintance. "Shall we take a turn about the park? I would be delighted to chaperone."

Subtlety was not her specialty. Or perhaps not her priority. Though you couldn’t really be upset with her, given how good-looking the Duke was. He nodded graciously at your mother and placed your hand at the crook of his elbow, smiling down at you as you began to stroll. 

You were so enthralled you barely registered him speaking. “I hear you’ve got a knack for languages, Lady Montclair,” he remarked, prompting your attention.

“Yes, your Grace. I speak five languages, and read Sanskrit,” you answered dutifully. Such accomplishments were no small feat in the circles of the ton, and you knew it put you at an advantage in the marriage mart.

“Most impressive, indeed,” he answered, his gaze thoughtful. “My brother’s wife is from Prussia, and I’m sure she would love a chance to speak in her native tongue.”

The Duke's boldness caught you off guard, the suggestion of speaking with his sister-in-law a surprising turn. "Oh," you murmured, slightly taken aback by his directness.

 “And what else do you like to do?” asked Lord Barlow, smoothly transitioning the conversation. 

A well-prepared response rolled off your tongue, a practiced smile gracing your lips. “I am well-versed in needlepoint, and enjoy playing the pianoforte,” you smiled. It was what was expected of a young woman of your stature, after all.

Lord Barlow nodded appreciatively, seemingly satisfied with your answer. “And how do you find England? I’m certain you’re missing the Tuscan sun,” he said, pushing the conversation to lighter topics. 

The Duke's engaging manner, paired with the approval of your mother, had utterly charmed you. Engaged by his charisma and easy conversation, you found yourself giggling during your conversation, utterly captivated.

Unbeknownst to you, Colin Bridgerton observed

from afar, his gaze sharp with a mixture of irritation and something deeper brewing beneath the surface. Each laugh, each shared glance between you and the Duke, stoked the flames of his simmering displeasure.

—

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[fushiguruuzzzz]

vi ⊹ ࣪ ˖ Secret Door

Series mlist 

Tags — short boring filler chapter, mention of hangover, murder jokes (reader isn’t joking I fear)

Words — 0.5k

You awoke the next morning with an intense pounding in your head and the immense confusion of how you ended up in your own bed. Your memory from the night before was rather hazy, just the purple of the lights and the blur of red that was Yuji and… Megumi. Megumi and his lingering presence, Megumi and every memory you had with him. Megumi who recognized you, whose words caught in his throat upon seeing your face. Whether that was a good or bad thing, you weren’t attentive enough to tell. 

You sat up with a disgruntled groan, the blanket that had been embracing you piling up in your lap with a soft noise. The sunlight was seeping in through the cracks in the blinds, the little amount of light all too much for your strained eyes. 

“Finally awake?” came a voice across the room, one that was all too familiar and all too condescending. Maki sat at the bottom of her bed, eyeing you through the shining lenses of her glasses. 

You grumbled, letting a tired yawn leave your cracked lips. “Sadly,” you said, pulling your knees up to your chest. You leaned your head down on them, messy tufts of hair falling all around. 

She let out a half amused hum, a breath leaving her lips. “Megumi brought you home,” she said simply, her voice carrying that tone of indifference that it always did. It was a little scary, honestly. Your head shot up, and you barely even cared to wince at the way the painful throb intensified at the motion. Your eyes were wide, comically so. “He did?”

She nodded, giving a short nod in the direction of your bedside table. “Yeah. I’d check your phone if I were you.” 

… that stupid fuck. You were going to kill Toge. Maybe panda after, too. 

Later that afternoon, you sat curled up on your bed, the same as you’d been earlier in the day except you lacked the frustrating pain in your head as well as the nausea resting in your gut. You glanced up from your phone to look at the girl sitting opposite to you in your dorm. You were a little nervous, both to ask and to actually act on the results of said question. It was better her than Yuji, though. 

“Maki?” you asked, voice still hoarse from sleep. “Hm?” She hummed, glancing up at you. 

“What’s Fushiguro’s number?” She paused, quirking a brow at you. Maki wasn’t necessarily one to tease, but the way she was looking at you got pretty close. 

You rolled your eyes, tossing a pillow sitting at your side across the room, at her. “Don’t look at me like that. I want to say thanks for getting me home last night.” 

She let out an amused huff, but nodded nonetheless. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll send it to you.”

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chapter 6 and they’ve met once… they’re actually gonna start interacting trust I think… toge went offline for two hours after reader texted him. Everyone was scared she actually killed him megumi lied in bed all day thinking about her he want that cookie so bad

[yoonieper]

For the Birds— Prologue | JJK

I want you to stay even though you don’t want me.

♡ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (feat. Yuri) 

♡ Genre: angst, smut, future fluff

♡ Rated: D for Disappointment

♡ Series Warnings: Lots of smut (not always healthy), cheating, discussions of depression, this series includes Jk in a pretty toxic environment, degradation (not the sexy kind), manipulation, and overall Jk being in an emotionally abusive situation! This chapter is not too bad, but please read with caution going forward!

♡ Chapter Warnings: Jk sad boy, Yuri being… :/, oral (f. receiving), masturbation (m)

♡ Word Count: 12.6k

♡ Summary: As the son of the CEO at Golden Tech, a marriage was arranged in the name of business. Jungkook really tried to make the most of his situation and be the best husband he could be, but no matter how much he tried, his wife just doesn’t seem to want him. Then you… you came into his life and his eyes couldn’t help but wander.

♡ Now Playing: LOVE. by Kendrick Lamar (feat. Zacari)– see masterlist for full playlist!

♡ Betas: Thank you so much to @illyrian-book-lover and @teawithhoneyandlemon for reading this part for me! If you’re interested in betaing future parts, dm me. If you're interested in becoming a permanent beta for this series please first click here and refer to 'details about the job' section for more details and dm for any questions you might have! 

♡ Author’s Note: I’ve been working on this for a while, but I got sudden inspiration to finish the prologue~ This series should get pretty exciting, so stay tuned! ← Omg y’all the prologue has been in my drafts since 2020 :’) This series has gone through a lot of evolution that I might talk about in the future. This series is very different from where it started, but the prologue has always remained vastly the same, so it has a special place in my heart! Hope you enjoy the series my friends, this one is very emotional, so prepare for the rollercoaster ahead! I’m excited to show you what’s to come <3!

No reposting, modifying. Translating is not allowed unless given explicit permission. Thank you so much : D

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“Secretary Yu, could you remind me of the schedule for the day?”Jungkook let his disgruntled sigh fill the room as he rubbed his temples, doing anything he could for a chance to soothe the subtle pounding in his head. Displeasure was painted all over his features, and his eyes were tightly closed while he listened to his assistant’s clicking heels stop in front of his desk. 

The room was dark, but that hadn’t kept his retinas from burning any less as he looked at the woman in front of him— he didn’t know at this point if it was because of all the crying or the exhaustion from waking up so early. The day had only just begun, and he already wanted it to end; to just climb back in bed, sleep away his troubles, and forget everything that transpired over the last 24 hours. Hell, maybe there was still a chance he was asleep, and that this was all just a bad nightmare his brain had conjured up in nervousness.

“Director Jeon? I didn’t expect you to be in so early.” Secretary Yu Min-ju tried to smile but the furrowing of her eyebrows made it obvious she was a little confused. This hadn’t been part of the plan they discussed. Jungkook didn’t let the moment linger, instead, gave her a firm look of exasperation that made her hastily pull out her tablet to find his schedule. 

Her usual cheerfulness was not what he needed today. 

Min-ju couldn't stop the smile appearing on her face when she saw its rare emptiness. “Your hard work these past few days has paid off. Today is pretty light. A meeting with the financial team at 12, and then another meeting at 1pm with Mr. Cho. You should be able to go home after that.” The secretary warmly smiled.

Jungkook’s eyes drifted down to the picture sitting on his desk as she spoke. It was of him and his wife on their honeymoon last year to The Maldives. They had been walking on the beach and his mother had texted and begged for a picture of the new couple; Jungkook could do nothing but oblige. Yuri had clung onto his shoulders when he held up his phone, and upon counting down to one, gave him a surprise kiss on the cheek leading to Jungkook’s eager, unnaturally wide smile being captured forever and memorialized on his desk. He couldn’t help but frown. 

He wanted to be excited, craved for it, yearned for it, but home was the last place he wanted to be right now. All that hard work for nothing. For once he wished he had more to do, anything to keep his mind busy.

“Didn’t I have deadlines for a few upcoming reports?” He suddenly questioned. 

Min-ju looked farther down her list and she nodded. “There are a few documents that need reviewing and signatures, but a majority of them aren’t due till next week. But you don’t need to—“ 

“I’ll get them done today.” Jungkook’s tone was astoundingly emotionless, completely void of the delightful emotion he had spoken with in the days leading up to today. Min-ju was at a loss for words. She knew how hard he worked to free up his day for the special occasion. What's with the sudden change of plans? What happened? 

It was Jungkook himself who had requested for her to try and free his schedule so he would be in the office for as little time as possible. There was no joy or giddiness behind his eyes like she had expected. Min-ju had pictured her boss walking in with a strange cheerfulness in his mood, rainbows and sparkles practically dancing around him as he skipped through the halls and greeted her good morning. But his tone lacked spirit altogether. Jungkook was like a husk compared to the person she said goodbye to the evening prior. 

“I— uh alright, I’ll make sure to send them to you later sir.” Min-ju bowed, before she scrambled away. 

Jungkook listened intently to the way her heels tentatively clicked while she walked out, it was at a certain speed that told him she was rushing to get out of there. As soon as the door closed behind her, he let out a loud sigh as he leaned back in his chair. 

What a fucking disappointment this whole day turned out to be.

Jungkook had planned today to be one of the most preeminent days for him and his wife as a couple and those plans were all squashed within a second last night. It had been playing over and over in his head since he woke up this morning.

He tangled his hands in his hair, his grip growing tighter and tighter on his short locks as the reality of the situation hit him for the billionth time. It just wouldn’t stop, replaying in a loop hoping something might change. That he’d wake up from this nightmare, or maybe even realize something that in the heat of the moment had gone entirely unnoticed— anything to explain what happened. Last night still didn’t feel real. 

The cancellation had been entirely unexpected.

•────•──────────•────•

Last night Jungkook had been in high spirits all day. A radiance was cast on his features by the pure, exorbitant elation flowing through his body. It was like the most beautiful display of fireworks were going off all at once, tickling his insides, and making the smile on his face grow so wide it hurt his cheeks but he couldn’t find it in him to stop. After all, tomorrow was going to be the turning point for their relationship. Something was about to happen, he was sure of it.

Jungkook was lying on their shared bed, having just recently come out from the shower. His hair was still slightly damp, and a giddy smile was plastered on his face as he scrolled through his phone. He was eagerly reviewing their itinerary for their plans tomorrow. 

D-day. The day that Jungkook and his wife were meant to celebrate their one and a half year anniversary. It might be a weird occasion to commemorate, but after being apart for too many holidays and milestones for various reasons, Jungkook went out of his way and made it a point to plan something to make up for all the lost time. 

He let his attention turn from his phone and settled on his wife who was meticulously going through her nightly routine at her vanity. His smile softened as he silently watched her dab night cream across her cheeks. 

How was this his life?

Sometimes it was a little hard to believe Yuri was actually his wife, it was almost intimidating at how beautiful she was. Her eyes were round yet sharp in their gaze as she focused on the mirror. Her skin was usually so soft but it shined even more so at that moment from all the various oils and moisturizers she made sure to use every night. Her long, dark hair flowed nicely down her back but was pushed out of her face by a cute, fuzzy, gray headband. And even in pajamas, she managed to carry this level of elegance that pulled him in so easily. 

Jungkook bit his lip to contain the smile that was threatening to envelop him entirely. 

The outfit was especially a big deal. It was different from the shorts and tank tops she’d normally wear. It had been his idea to start the celebration with matching pajamas, a slight preview to the day he had planned for the both of them. Jungkook’s heart had hammered in his chest when Yuri relented and agreed to wear the set he had given to her before she went to shower. It matched his own exactly. It was nothing too special, but a nice way to bring them together before the big day. A simple, gray pajama-button-down-classic; the material was so soft and he knew Yuri would look just as amazing as it felt. 

She always did.

His excitement was almost overflowing, Jungkook couldn’t stop himself from getting up so he was right behind her. He wrapped his arms around her small frame, and gently placed a quick peck on her neck. 

“I’m so excited for tomorrow~” He hummed lightly into her skin. 

Yuri didn’t say anything, her attention trained on her reflection. 

“What about you? Are you looking forward to spending the day together and doing all the fun stuff I have planned?” He sang. As soon as the words left his mouth he knew it sounded cringey, but for once he didn’t care. He just wanted to hear it, that she was excited to be with him.

Yuri’s gaze eventually flickered over to him before she turned around to face him. 

“Jungkook, I have to tell you something…“ She sighed. He tried to ignore his uneasy feeling about her tone. 

“Oh, you did?” Jungkook attempted to fight back his disappointment. That wasn’t what he hoped she’d say. 

“Yeah, I did,” she muttered. He hated the look on his face as he peered into the mirror. A slight frown had dimmed down his smile, and he wanted to do anything to wipe it away. There was no time for frowning, he didn’t want to ruin tomorrow before it even started. He shouldn’t overthink it.

“I had something I needed to mention too.” He went back over to the bed. “I wasn’t able to get out of my meetings tomorrow so I’ll have to go in for a few hours, but I promise I’ll come straight back here.” He had really tried, but there was no way to reschedule them any further into the week. At least that was the only thing on his agenda tomorrow, however, he had wanted to take the day off completely and spend it with his wife. 

Jungkook saw Yuri’s face drop. 

“Don't worry, I’ll be here all morning! I worked hard to clear my schedule as much as I could, it’ll just be two meetings and then I’m back.” He tried to smile. Hopefully, she wouldn’t mind the brief interruption too much.

“Actually—“ Yuri dragged it out as she looked back into the mirror to make sure she rubbed in the cream well, “I have plans tomorrow.” She put it frankly. 

Jungkook blinked a couple of times before a look of confusion settled on his features. “Plans?” His voice had grown small. It didn’t have a reason to yet, but maybe all along he knew where this was going the minute she brought it up.

“I have a friend from when I went to school in the US coming to visit.” She mumbled. Jungkook couldn’t hide the disappointment from showing. 

“Oh? Um…”

“We’re planning to spend some time together, so…” 

“When will you guys be done?” He questioned, still a little shocked that she was just telling him about this now, the day before their plans. “Hopefully we can work around it. Maybe you guys could meet up while I’m gone so it doesn’t mess up—“ 

“Jungkook, this is going to be an all-day thing.” He could see the way Yuri watched his expression from the mirror as the gears started turning in his head, now realizing what that meant. The silence that settled in the room was painful. 

“But… but we had plans.” 

“I know we did, but—“ 

“But?! Yuri I told you weeks ago!” Jungkook retorted. He was angry now. He didn’t want to be angry.

“Weeks Yuri, weeks!” He continued, unable to process this was happening. There was no way she could have simply “forgotten” about the day they were supposed to spend together. He’d literally been talking about it since they both agreed to do this a few weeks ago.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” He accused, confused how news like this would just go unsaid. 

“She just called me two days ago,” Yuri argued, as if that would make this any better. 

“Two days ago— and you didn’t say anything until now?” He was baffled. There was no excuse why she couldn’t have brought this up sooner. 

“Well— look how you’re reacting.” She scoffed and crossed her arms.

That just set him off even more.

“How I’m reacting, Yuri?! We talked about this for weeks; it’s the only thing I’ve been talking about for the past few days. I’m sorry that I was excited to spend the day with my wife.” Jungkook exploded at her. He was furious, and he didn’t like it. This wasn’t how this day was supposed to go. 

Yuri didn’t say anything but instead rolled her eyes.

“And you can’t just cancel?!” He finally asked, getting up and pacing around their shared room. 

“Jungkook, she's my friend! I haven’t seen her in a while and—“

“But what about me?!” He snapped. The words seemed to hang in the air, a painful silence following it. Jungkook noticed the look on her face, and he sighed as he sat down at the edge of the bed so he was facing her. He ran his hands through his hair and took a couple deep breaths to get himself to calm down.

“I didn’t mean for it to come out like that… it’s just… Yuri, we've been married for a year and a half and I feel like I hardly know you. I know this is technically only meant to be business, but I thought we said we’d try and make this work.” He cried as he grabbed a hold of her hands. He looked her directly in the eyes, wanting her to know that he meant every word. 

Was he really asking for too much?

“We’ve hardly gotten time together since our honeymoon. Our schedules are full, and I know that’s not our fault, but I just wanted some time alone with you even if it was only for a day.” He pleaded; the desperation was so evident in his voice. He felt pathetic. 

“We can do that any day. My friend will only be here for the next two weeks.” Yuri acknowledged before she turned back to her vanity. 

“And why can’t you just hang out another day?” He asked, defeat overtaking him and his efforts to convince her. There was no point really. It seemed she had already made up her mind.

“I said she’s leaving in two weeks. We only have a limited time to hang out before she’s catching a plane back to California. Besides, we can just do something after she leaves. We will have all the time in the world when she’s gone in two weeks.” Her words were punches straight to the heart. She always says that when she needs to cancel plans— that next week never comes. 

Her excuse was ridiculous, but this wasn’t the first time it had happened. He’s used to it now and knows there isn’t really any point in trying to negotiate. 

“Yuri, I have a business trip that week.” 

“Well what about the—“ she was cut off. 

“You have a shoot in Hawaii that week.” Jungkook just sighed and got back up to sit on his side of the bed. “We can just forget about it all together in that case.” He fumed as he flipped over, now too upset to even face her right now. 

Part of him was hoping she’d just say “Never mind, I’ll just reschedule,” jump in the bed and cuddle with him because she realized just how much this meant to him, to herself, and to them both as a couple. Everything would be fine and–

But no… Yuri just sat there, seemingly unaffected by the cancellation of their plans.

He began to think it was a little sad at how upset he was. Yuri didn’t care; maybe he truly had made this a bigger deal than it needed to be. She was right in some sense— they live together and can plan something any day of the year. 

But it still hurt that just for this one day, Yuri didn’t want to spend time with him. 

•────•──────────•────•

It did not get any better the next day. He woke up in a bad mood. She wasn’t even there in the morning. Everything just made him upset: Yuri’s cold, empty side of the bed, he forgot to turn off his alarm so he missed his opportunity to sleep in, and he nearly slipped in the shower as he was ranting to himself about how dumb this was. Their annoying, squeaky bedroom door that Jungkook’s been meaning to call someone about. Even the milk for his cereal pissed him off because he asked Yuri last night to pick up more while she was out but of course, she forgot, and he forgot to tell their cook about it thinking she’d get it, so he only had a little left for his breakfast this morning.

The last place he wanted to be was at their apartment so he left for work as soon as he was ready.

Jungkook took out his phone knowing he had some time to kill and he needed someone to rant to or else he was going to go crazy. A few minutes later, like the trusty friend he was, Jimin was bursting through the door like he was the Kool Aid man, ready to listen to all of Jungkook’s problems. 

“Ok, who’s ass do I need to kick?” Jimin came in, hands up, ready to fight– which might have been Jungkook’s fault with the ambiguous text he sent to his hyung. Saying “the world’s ending, need help now!” might have been a little too drastic, but it felt appropriate at the moment.

“Mine...” Jungkook groaned, his head was on the desk but he could hear Jimin’s footsteps hurrying over, before taking a seat in the chair in front of his desk. This was routine at this point.

The two of them had been friends for a number of years now. Jimin was two years older than Jungkook and had mainly been friends with his brother at first. But when Junghyeon left, apparently he decided he needed to leave his big brother duties to someone, and he thought who else would be a better fit to watch over him than Park Jimin? Those were Junghyeon’s words when Jungkook first mentioned that he was getting close to his old friend. Jimin occasionally checked up on him when he was still in high school, and their bond grew really strong soon after Jungkook had started college. Jimin became his guide as he navigated adult life and a very real friendship was born from his brother’s efforts. 

When Jimin graduated, it only felt natural for Jungkook to extend an invitation to work at his family’s company, knowing how good of an addition he would be to the team. As of about three and a half years ago, they’ve also been work buddies. 

“So,” Jimin stretched it out. “What is it this time?” He asked when Jungkook still hadn’t said anything. 

Silence followed.

“Is this about Yuri?” Jimin finally questioned, that being the most obvious, considering Jungkook shouldn’t even be in right now.

The younger man nodded. 

Jimin hummed as he thought about it for a second. “Ok, is this another rant about your sex life because I have some—“ 

“No, no, no, well… maybe, yes? I don’t know hyung, I'm just…” All Jungkook could do was sigh, his frustration getting to a boiling point again. 

“I’m guessing with the way you’re acting, things didn’t go as planned…?” Jimin asked wearily, knowing precisely what Jungkook had in store for today. He’d helped Jungkook plan it out. The first thing that was supposed to be on the itinerary was waking Yuri up with a good time. Jimin was the one to suggest it, but the fact he was in a bad mood was enough to let him know things hadn’t gone the way that they’d discussed. 

“The whole plan didn’t happen,” Jungkook lamented as he leaned back in his office chair. He could feel Jimin’s confusion without even having to look at him. “She canceled our whole day because of a friend visiting from the US.” He scowled and saying it out loud made it sound even more unreal. 

Jimin blinked a couple of times, obviously just as confused as he was. “A friend?” 

“It’s something she knew about two days ago before even bringing it up last night. It wasn’t even a full day before our plans!” At least he could’ve gotten a heads-up. He wasn’t sure what that would have done, but at least he could have had more time to cope with the disappointment.  

“What?” Jimin questioned in disbelief. 

“And maybe, maybe I’d get it if today was the only day they could hang out, but she said they’re going to be here for the next two weeks.” Jungkook was getting angry all over again. 

“I’m sorry, what?” Jimin repeated, honestly just baffled. 

“And! And when I asked her why they can’t just hang out the next day, she said it’s because they’re only here for a limited time and that we can just hang out whenever!” It didn’t make any sense that she would say that when Jungkook had to spend days working into the early hours of the morning trying to clear his schedule enough so that they could have some time together.  

“What the fuck…” Jimin looked just as confused as he felt. 

“I know, it’s ridiculous…” He trailed off with a laugh, but the pain from the sudden cancellation made it hard to even pretend this was anywhere near comical.

“Jungkook, I think that’s a lot more than ridiculous…” Jimin tried to reassure, his tone quickly turning sympathetic.

“I know we’re arranged, but I just… I thought being married would be more than this, you know?” He leaned back in his chair. Jungkook simply had dreams for his future and this wasn’t anything he pictured it would look like. 

“And there’s nothing wrong with that. You both agreed to try and she has never given you a reason why she’s practically avoiding you.” Jimin said, recounting the fact this wasn’t even the first time something like this has happened.

“I’m wondering if it’s me. Maybe I’m not doing enough or maybe I’m doing it all wrong? Right? It had to be something I did.” Jungkook tried to rack his brain, thinking of anything he did that might have made Yuri so upset at him.

“I don’t think it’s your fault. You’re trying your best. It doesn’t make sense to me why she did this. It wouldn’t make sense to anyone, but I don’t know… maybe she wants her space.” Jimin suggested, it being the only explanation he could come up with to make sense of her behavior. 

The words sat in the air for a second, a painful second, like the wrong note reverberating at the end of a musical piece. Jimin didn’t notice the shift fast enough before Jungkook suddenly sat up to look at him, and his brows were furrowed like what he said was crazy. 

“Space? We have space all the time, this was the one day I wanted us to be a couple— or at least try and be a couple.” Jungkook chided and Jimin immediately knew he didn’t phrase that in the best way.

“I meant it more so for yourself. I’ve seen and been in enough relationships, situationships, you name it, to know when to back away. Things are obviously going to be even more complicated because you’re in an arranged marriage. I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but maybe taking a step back so you don’t get hurt is something to think about.” Jimin laid it out plainly, but Jungkook maintained his hard expression. If anything, he seemed even more displeased. 

“I have to make this work. I’m obviously not doing what she wants!” Jungkook seethed.

“We have no idea what’s going on. I’m just trying to stop you from getting hurt.” Jimin's gaze filled with sympathy, but Jungkook just seemed to grow more angered as he rolled his eyes at him. 

“Like you would understand— everyone wants to be around you.” Jungkook scoffed, turning away. 

Jimin sat there for a second, dumbfounded, wondering where that came from. 

“What are you talking about?”

“Everyone likes you! Everyone practically flocks to be around you. You have no trouble in relationships– yet I can’t even make the one woman I’m married to at least be comfortable by my side.” Jungkook cried out, and it was here that any anger that was threatening to boil over cooled the minute Jimin saw the wetness in his eyes.

Jimin had only been a bystander for the last few years in Jungkook’s life, but he could hardly comprehend this was the same man he’d been friends with for years now. 

Jungkook had gone from the guy who shied away from relationships, to suddenly being the only married man in his friend group.  

He could never forget the day that Jungkook came to his apartment late one night, it felt like forever ago now. Those were different times; they weren’t the same people anymore. His eyes had been wide and petrified, like he’d just seen a ghost. It practically took the whole night to get it out of him that apparently his parents had made some kind of deal and were basically forcing him to get married to solidify it. 

Jimin could hardly keep up after he’d finally managed to get him to speak, and a lot of it went over his head. To be honest he didn’t believe it even after Jungkook explained it over and over again. It didn’t sound real. Whose parents would make their twenty-two year old son get married without at least talking to him first? It didn’t make sense.

It also didn’t make any sense considering Jimin had been the listening ear to how well their three dates– yes only three dates– went before the engagement.

“They were ok.” Jungkook would sigh, before showing a picture of her and talking about how much he struggled to say anything because of how nervous she made him.  

In the months leading up to the marriage, Jungkook had eventually heard the details of the deal, and that’s when the mood started to shift. Jungkook’s protests grew quieter to the point the wedding day managed to come and go without any intervention. Jimin still didn’t believe it, even as he saw Jungkook stand at the end of the aisle, even as he watched them get pronounced husband and wife, even as he witnessed the contract getting stamped, and even as he helped Jungkook pack to move to their new shared apartment after they came back from their honeymoon.

It didn’t feel real, but Jimin tried to remain as optimistic as Jungkook appeared when he came back.

“We said we’d try.” Jungkook told him with a toothy grin. The honeymoon had been good apparently. 

But that optimism was short-lived and Jimin was forced to sit back and watch as something in his friend shifted. Things weren’t right in the relationship, that much he was sure of. Jungkook had finally said something towards the beginning of the year. It was small things at first, things Jungkook made sound like the typical lovers’ quarrel. But as time passed, it grew more vague, unusual, and desolate. It was never detailed enough for him to get the full picture, but he could see the way Jungkook was practically deteriorating right in front of him.

He had no idea what was going on, but it was moments like this that made his blood boil. Jungkook was normally a closed-off person. He didn’t share his problems with others easily. For him to come to Jimin to talk about his issues in his marriage made him wonder how bad the situation truly was. The alarm bells wouldn’t stop going off in his head. 

“Jungkook, what’s going on?” Jimin sat up and rubbed his friend’s back. Jungkook’s office was dark but when he lifted his head, Jimin could see that the tears had finally started running down his cheeks. 

“Hyung, it’s me right?! I don’t understand why she… w-why she…” He stammered. The words caused the emotions he’d bottled up to spill over, and the tears became uncontrollable. 

“I must be doing everything wrong, right? Am I really that bad? I just… I just wanted to spend some time together. Am I really that bad of a husband?! I try so fucking hard, I swear I do, I just— Hyung I don’t know what else to do…” Jungkook ranted, sounding so dejected. 

Jimin only felt the fire burn harder ​​while his brain worked to try and understand Yuri. He wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, that there had to be some rational explanation that he just wasn’t seeing that would explain why every chance Jungkook made plans for them to be together, something had to get in the way. The only thing he could see was how much this affected Jungkook, and she was starting to piss him off. 

He got up and went behind Jungkook's desk so he could give him a hug, the younger man only sobbing even harder in his arms. Jimin didn’t say anything, instead ran slow, comforting circles over his back. 

Jimin couldn’t help but think that he needed to talk with Yuri. They weren’t close but hopefully they’ve met on enough occasions that he could have a comfortable conversation with her to at least get her side of the story. It would be the opportunity to try and get the chance to understand what was going on. Maybe then he could actually help Jungkook try and win her over.

The moment was interrupted by the blaring ring of the phone that sat on Jungkook’s desk, letting them know that Secretary Yu was calling. Jungkook quickly tried to wipe his eyes, doing his best to pull himself together, but Jimin stopped him in his tracks, already picking up the phone before he could object. 

“Hi Secretary Yu~” Jimin chirped, putting on that notorious charm that so easily put people at ease. “Yeah it’s Jimin, I’m taking over the phone for this one….. uh huh, right, wait but I thought— ohhhh, really…?… I see….. Yeah, I’ll let him know, he’s right next to me…. Nice talking with you…. bye.” Jimin frowned as soon as he put the phone down. 

“She said we have a meeting we need to go to. Apparently, finance has an emergency that we have to oversee.” His eyes remained trained on Jungkook as he grabbed some tissues, seemingly trying his best to switch back to boss mode. 

“Sorry, I probably look very pathetic right now,” Jungkook sadly chuckled as he wiped his eyes, but Jimin wasn’t having it. 

“Stop calling yourself pathetic. It’s alright. Cry as much as you need to,” Jimin attempted to reassure him when he noticed Jungkook’s lip still quivering. He looked like he was on the verge of another breakdown. “Don’t push yourself, we still have a few minutes before the meeting starts.” He tried to get Jungkook to slow down but he was already up and out of his chair.

“I’m fine… I just really needed that. This will be good, don't worry.” Part of Jungkook wondered if he was trying to convince Jimin or himself. 

He walked over to a mirror. “Are my eyes red?” Jungkook questioned, worried that it looked like he had been crying his eyes out. 

Jimin walked over and shook his head. “Just a little, but no one will notice unless they knew what you were doing.” 

He nodded, affirmed. “Ok, let’s do this.”

With that, Jungkook pushed through the door, passing Secretary Yu’s desk as she got up to join him, along with various higher up employees who had gotten the message about the meeting. 

Secretary Yu pulled out her tablet and moved a little closer. “Director Jeon, I just wanted to quickly give you a better brief of the situation before the meeting starts.”

“Go ahead…” Jungkook’s voice was shaky, but he hoped she didn’t notice.

“Production had encountered an unexpected issue. Good news is that it has been solved already so there’s no need to worry about it. The bad news is that we can’t use any of the inventory they made prior to the fix.” Secretary Yu tried to speak calmly but grimaced when she noticed the change in her boss’s demeanor.  

Jungkook’s eyes widened, and he stopped dead in his tracks. All the executives that were walking behind them came to a sudden halt along with him, making everyone nearly bump into each other. 

“Wait, what?! But production had been running for–” Jungkook didn’t need to finish that, already knowing the answer. It was far too long and their launch date was about a month away. 

This was bad. 

“What was the issue?” 

“I’m not sure yet—“ The ‘what’ didn’t really matter right now, all that meant was this launch was screwed. 

Launches were some of the most important moments of the year. The fact it had been slated for the last quarter of the year, the most important quarter for a company like theirs in turning up profit, they had been counting on it even more than normal. This put everything in jeopardy, particularly anything they had planned for next year. This line had already been delayed to the utmost limit because of numerous other complications so delaying it was almost entirely off the table. 

“Just great huh. Really fucking great. This day can’t get any worse can it—“ And he should have learned that words like that challenge the universe to see what other shit it could throw at you. 

They finally picked up their hurried pace to the meeting room, but right as Jungkook rounded the corner he collided with something hard and suddenly he was cold and soaking wet. Jungkook just stared down, his suit covered in what he could immediately smell was coffee. A sliver of luck for him was that it was iced, but that didn’t stop him from being covered in coffee— he could only imagine the stains on the beige fabric.

Part of him wanted to scream but as his eyes trailed up to see a woman frantically picking up the cup and her scared, apologetic eyes when she realized it was all over him, he found himself unable to speak. Jungkook immediately knew he had never seen you before; he would have remembered you. 

Your red blouse was tucked into your short pencil skirt, which perfectly fitted to your form. Your legs were long as you stood up, accentuated even more by your tall, black stilettos, and Jungkook couldn’t stop the way his eyes ran over the exposed skin. What seemed to hold his attention the most was your vibrant, red lipstick. For a second he was left a little dumbstruck and forgot about the coffee that was everywhere. You were beautiful, ridiculously beautiful, it was almost crazy. For a second he wondered why you were here and not walking down some runway or the face of every brand imaginable. 

He would have noted this a lot more if he didn’t have coffee soaking into his clothes. Right now he just saw you as another problem, making his day that much worse. It was one of his favorite suits too, he wore it to make himself feel a little better about today, but you… 

Things just can’t get any worse.

•────•──────────•────•

This can’t be real. 

It was your first day and all your worst fears seemed to be manifesting. You slept through your alarm, you missed your bus, and your much needed caffeine was all over this handsome stranger— though you really couldn’t say you saw that one coming. The embarrassment you felt creeping onto your cheeks in front of all the people staring at you in the hallway was enough to melt you into a puddle. Worst of all, your supervisor who was walking right next to you saw everything. 

It couldn’t get much worse.

“I’ll clean this up. I’m so sorry! I should have paid more attention to where I was going!” You panicked as you scrambled to find something to help fix this. You looked to your supervisor, but he seemed even more distressed than you for some reason. 

You finally turned back to the stranger and his gaze met your own for a brief moment. His eyes were wide and looked almost like a kicked puppy at how much sadness filled them for a split second. It really was only a second before you noticed the more expected glare of annoyance. 

“Just,” He sighed. “Clean this up, okay? Director Son, please tell the team I’ll be a bit late. Hyung, can you…?” Jimin quickly nodded before speeding away. 

Jungkook just walked past them, not bothering to acknowledge anyone any further. In truth, he was a second away from bursting into tears again, but they didn’t need to know that. Instead, he just hurried off to the bathroom and waited for Jimin to bring the spare suit he kept for emergencies such as these. 

It seemed things could get worse.

Your eyes were wide as you watched him swiftly walk past you, not even bothering to look at you. You knew he had every right to be upset, but he was a bit rude. It was clearly an accident and he didn’t even give you time to apologize properly. 

“Yah, what’s up with that guy?” You mumbled. His annoyance had been a disease and it was quickly spreading.

“That guy?! Y/n do you know what you just did?!” Your new boss was clearly exasperated and that just made you a little confused. It was then you noticed everyone who was still in the hallway had their eyes on you, their hands were over their mouths, and they all had this look of horror on their faces like you had just committed the worst crime imaginable. 

“Who was that…?” You finally questioned, your heart already beating out of your chest.

“I swear you’re going to get us both fired and you only just got here. I swear…” Director Son rubbed his temples and cursed silently to himself, a look of worry speedily etched its way into his features. 

“Director Son, what did I just do?” You asked, growing even more anxious. He finally turned to face you. 

“Y/n, that was Jeon Jungkook.”

You still looked confused and this made him laugh— a worried, nervous laugh that made you know you had royally fucked up.

“You just spilled coffee all over the CEO’s son.” He put it plainly. It was only then that the pieces of the puzzle came together and started to make sense. 

What….have…you……done?

“That’s my boss, your boss, everyone who works on this floor’s boss.” The words only seemed to set the reality into both of you. 

“We’re going to have to pray. Get on our hands and knees, beg for forgiveness, and hope he doesn’t fire us or tell his father.” Suddenly, Director Son sprinted to the office area and returned with a bunch of napkins. 

“We have to see him in the meeting too. What am I going to do?” Director Son said with apprehension, throwing his hands up in the air. He already had so much bad news to deliver and now his newest employee had spilled coffee all over his boss. 

He was fired for sure. 

You hurriedly went to help him start cleaning up the coffee, but you were barely paying attention. You were just dazed because, at this point, you were convinced you were about to get fired on your first day. 

Suddenly, someone else was coming up beside you. “What a great entrance, huh?” A deep voice chuckled as he put more napkins on the ground. 

“It’s only my first day and I’m already ruining everything.” You huffed, getting the feeling you wouldn’t be here much longer. 

“You have to admit it was pretty funny~” 

You stopped. “No, it wasn’t. Do you know how humiliating that was?!” You finally turned to see yet another handsome stranger, but this time this guy had a warm, welcoming, boxy smile on his face. 

“I do, but it made my day better. Nice to meet you, I’m Kim Taehyung!” He stretched out his hand. 

You smiled weakly, feeling better that someone could laugh about this. “I’m Y/n. Nice to meet you Taehyung.” You said as you quickly shook his hand.

•────•──────────•────•

Jimin burst through the doors, emergency suit already in hand.

“You alright?” Jimin questioned as he set the suit on the counter. 

Jungkook turned toward him, clearly teary-eyed. He shook his head. “I just want to go home.” He tried to laugh as he started unbuttoning his shirt. He would have been better off not coming in today.

“Maybe you should. Today just doesn’t seem to be your day, huh?” Jimin tried to joke and smiled when he saw Jungkook chuckle. 

“I have meetings later though. I have to stay till then.” He just sighed. Jungkook had already felt guilty about leaving and hardly being at work today because of his plans with Yuri, but going home right now seemed selfish considering the dire situation. He didn’t want people to think he was running away and leaving them to deal with this mess alone. It’s not like he had anyone waiting for him back home anyway. There was no need to rush anymore.

Jungkook spent most of his time at the office more than at home. He wanted to show that he was working hard, it was something he knew was essential to gaining everyone’s trust. Since he was still pretty young, people often doubted his leadership, but he earned his spot in the company just like everyone else did. Jungkook had been working here since he was nineteen, interned even longer, and started off at the bottom like everyone else. He didn’t want to be the spoiled, rich kid inheriting the company simply because his father is the CEO. He wanted to make sure that by the time he became CEO he would have built up the same respect that the rest of the employees held for his dad. 

As a result, leaving earlier or taking days off was something he tried to steer clear of as much as possible, but today… things just weren’t working out. He feared that being here any longer might make him explode. 

Once they figure out this whole situation, he’ll immediately go home after his last two meetings are over. Right, that was the smart thing to do. He couldn’t risk having a breakdown in front of everyone. 

“Hyung…” Jungkook said suddenly after he managed to get his pants up. Jimin hummed. “Thanks for being here with me.” His voice wavered slightly.

“Of course, I’ll always be here when you need me.” Jimin said softly. Jungkook was extra sensitive today. He usually was able to reserve the waterworks for sad movies or when he was alone in the apartment, but today he couldn’t seem to keep his emotions at bay. 

When they both came out of the bathroom, Jungkook and Jimin hurried to the meeting room ready to assess the current crisis at hand. Everyone was already in their seats when they walked in, and upon seeing Jungkook, they scrambled out their chairs to stand up and bow. 

Jungkook took a seat at the head of the table and Jimin in the seat to his left. Director Son was already standing at the pedestal in the corner of the room with a gloomy expression practically carved into his features. This was probably even worse than what he was told, judging by the solemn tone of the room. 

He was antsy to hear just how bad it was, and was about to tell Director Son to continue, when he spotted you at the end of the table. 

“Director Son,” Jungkook said, curiosity peaking. He knew pretty much everyone who worked on this floor, but you were definitely not familiar. 

“Who’s she?” He pointed directly at you, making your attention turn toward him. 

Director Son scrambled from behind the pedestal, realizing he had forgotten to introduce you because of the incident earlier. 

“My apologies, sir.” Director Son addressed Jungkook before turning towards you and motioning for you to stand. You quickly bounced on your heels, not wanting to piss him off even more. If Jungkook didn’t fire you, surely he would. 

“Everyone, this is L/n Y/n. She’s our newest member of our financial team. It’s her first day here.” Everyone gave you strange looks as most people here at this table had witnessed the incident earlier.

It’s like you made the worst first impression you possibly could have. 

The silence was deafening as everyone stared; you were tempted to run away, fake your death, get a new identity, and attempt to start your life over knowing things couldn’t get much worse than this. It took a moment, but eventually Taehyung, who sat right beside you, started clapping— slowly but surely everyone joined him. You looked down and smiled, mouthing him a thank you before you sat down. 

Your eyes flickered over to Jungkook who was still staring at you. Your skin warmed as his gaze bored into you. 

“Thank you, you may begin.” Jungkook finally said, leaning back in his chair. 

A new line of products was supposed to be released shortly before the holiday season— namely a new line of TVs that had already been delayed multiple times, all for various reasons during development. They had been forced to push the date back as far as possible, right to the point before there would start to be major repercussions. Production had promised that they would be able to meet this new date, and production began a few weeks ago. Jungkook had thought the most troubling stage was over and the only thing that was left was handling this launch with the marketing team now. But a malfunction that was only realized this morning had been noticed, and all of the inventory they had managed to produce before today was completely unusable.  

To make matters worse, the date they needed to have everything shipped out by was too close to have the now scarce inventory hit even the low range of their planned profit margin. It was a disaster and after Director Son explained the issue, Jungkook was ready to pull out his hair. Of course this had to happen today, of all the fucking days everything just had to go wrong. He couldn’t even think straight as everyone around the table started suggesting ideas, too busy trying to pull himself out of the funk that made him practically useless. He was convinced he was cursed, that had to be it because how does this all happen in one day?

This fuck up jeopardized everything— it was their biggest source of profit for the year and they thought they’d be able to make up for all the delays by having it at such an important part of the year. They already decided to invest extra in advertising to help boost sales far beyond what they’d traditionally expect. Now without the numbers they had planned for, the profit they had wanted to reach was virtually impossible. This was detrimental to next quarters budget and especially the following year. Any plans, projects, anything they had planned was now at risk, and— 

The meeting ended up going on for quite a while. Everyone panicked as they tried brainstorming ideas that could be used to rectify the situation: 

Some suggested seeing if they could push the launch back, but at this point that was even more disastrous than just releasing whatever they can manage to get done. Others suggested that this fell on production and that they should use intimidation to try and make the numbers get as close to what was planned. Jungkook normally was against ideas like that, but it was mind boggling how poorly these products had been handled so far. He had already been planning to meet with the executives over at the factories to figure out who he needed to hold liable for this. Others went on about distribution, how their department who handled Seoul, should be prioritized and that they should focus on the bigger stores, such as malls, in order to hopefully increase the chances of selling everything they could to at least get the highest profit they can. It went on and on. Another radical suggestion was increasing the price of the line of TVs to try and force a similar profit margin.  

People just kept going and going and Jungkook was ready to bang his head against the table to hopefully get himself to wake up from this nightmare. Everyone was so loud as they bickered and fought that their way was better, and he tried his best to suppress wanting to just scream for them to just shut up and walk away from the situation all together. He was overwhelmed and it was even worse that he felt unhelpful, all efforts went to keeping himself firmly planted in his chair and not letting the tears spill over again.

What ended up surprising him was that it was you who came up with the best solution. In between all the nonsense, you were also very vocal during the meeting. You were knowledgeable as you spoke, asking questions any time you could and also giving your two-sense on the suggestions the rest of the team kept spewing out. Most of your takes he found himself easily agreeing with as you countered how none of those ideas worked. If Jungkook hadn’t encountered you before, he wouldn’t have guessed you were the same clumsy woman who spilled coffee on him earlier today. It was absolutely shocking considering the fact that today was your first day and you had only been briefly filled in on the situation. 

Eventually though you had given your own opinion and one that stood out from the masses.

“Do nothing.” You had put it so simply. You argued that there was nothing that could be done and instead that they should just send out the inventory they created after today, though less of it, as planned and capitalize on the opportunity to create even more demand for the line. If production could get their shit together and deliver the product as promised, plus with the added reputation of the company, they should certainly sell, and sell quickly. While this would not prove fruitful immediately, during the time they would work on getting the next shipment together, this would create a demand that would hopefully be able to make up for any losses encountered during the launch.  

It wasn’t the best considering what they had thought this new launch would bring, but it was the best idea he heard all afternoon, and the one he ultimately picked they should explore further. The team first had to crunch the numbers to make sure they could afford that type of risk, but at the moment, waiting, letting the scarcity create demand, and gently still pushing the production team to try and get the inventory as high as possible, was what he sent everyone away with in mind.  

Jungkook wanted to hate you, you had basically ruined his favorite suit, but seeing you in this meeting had him momentarily forgetting about the incident in the hallway. He never really considered firing you. Despite being incredibly petty about the suit, he didn’t want to take his anger out on you or Director Son. This meeting just made him realize how great of an addition you would likely be for the team. If this was your first day and you had already managed to help work out a crisis, he could only imagine what you would do for the team’s future. 

But today just wasn’t the day he could forgive you completely. 

Thanks to you he was able to go home around the time he had planned. Since the entire financial team was there, they were quickly able to cover the points of their original meeting that was scheduled, and he ran off directly afterward to meet with Director Cho in his office for a discussion about marketing. It was still in the afternoon by the time he got back to the apartment. Part of him hoped he would find Yuri waiting for him with open arms, and they would leave together to start their day as he had planned. 

It was wishful thinking, but that didn’t stop the disappointment from burning his heart when he came back to find it exactly how he had expected.

Empty.

Jungkook sighed and kicked off his shoes. Today was horrible. 

He was about to head straight for the beer they kept in the fridge, but the various ingredients he found inside gave him an idea. If he didn’t try at all, how would he ever make this work? As much as Yuri hurt his feelings, he would still put on a happy face and be a good husband. 

He got straight to work, tying up his apron and rolling up his sleeves. 

Jungkook first contemplated what should make, and he decided pretty quickly once he double-checked what they had. Then he moved on to pulling out all the ingredients and putting them onto the counter. 

He wasn’t a master chef or anything, Jungkook had hardly cooked for himself his entire life— his parents always had a chef to prepare their meals. It was when he moved out that he realized how much he enjoyed it. It wasn’t too often that he cooked, but when he did, it always brought him so much satisfaction knowing he made it. Not to brag, but despite his lack of experience, Jungkook could easily follow a recipe and turn out with something pretty decent at the end. 

He decided to go with gimbap— it was relatively easy to make and increased his chances of not messing it up. By the time he had the rolls cut and ready on the plate, the sun had gone down.

Jungkook smiled as he looked at his creation. It was a little misshapen and the ingredients were spilling out from the sides, but he had high hopes on how it’d taste; he’d thrown in all of his favorite ingredients. It was cute and showed it was made by his own hands. He hoped this would be enough for them to at least spend a little time together when she got home. 

He sent her a quick text telling her about a ‘little surprise’ waiting for her at the apartment and to hurry home as soon as she could. He even added a heart at the end, a sign of peace, so they could put what the day could have been behind them and move on to shaping what they could make of it now.

Jungkook let out a satisfied sigh before taking off his apron, grabbing one of the nicer containers they owned, placing the food inside, and setting it on the dining table ready to be eaten whenever Yuri came back. 

He hoped this would be enough to get her to come home soon. 

He changed into more relaxing clothes and headed straight to the couch, deciding to continue that show he had started a little while back. He hadn’t planned to be here long; for some reason, he pictured Yuri bursting through the doors at any second, but he should have known he would end up disappointed yet again.

After more time passed, Jungkook eventually pulled out his ice cream and the beer he’d promised himself not to go for. 

He was depressed. It was worse than when he was in his office earlier. He wanted home to be his escape from the day he had, but it only made the problem worse just like he feared. All he could do was drown out his darkening thoughts with comfort cream and beer. 

Even more time passed by and there was still no Yuri. At this point, Jungkook had to call Jimin knowing he couldn’t be alone right now. He was on the verge of another breakdown. 

True to his nature, his hyung was at their apartment in no time. 

Jimin’s face fell the minute Jungkook opened the door. His friend looked even worse than when he left the office, his eyes were lifeless behind the smile he tried to show. It hurt even worse when he noticed the uneaten dinner on the dining table. He could see Jungkook had pulled out all the fancy candles, plates, and silverware, but they remained untouched; clearly, he was waiting. 

“Sorry I called you so late… I just didn't want to be alone right now.” It was more than that, and Jimin knew it. 

In truth, the thoughts that seemed to keep echoing in his head worried him. Not even his favorite movie could take his attention away from the harsh realization of what he was facing right now. He knew not even Yuri coming home at that very moment would solve everything. He just needed someone to talk to, someone to distract him from his thoughts.

Jimin pulled him into a hug before guiding them inside. They both ended up sharing a few beers together, Jungkook venting nearly the entire time. It was good and played as the much needed therapy he wanted. 

It was well into the night that after a few crying sessions and more beers, Jungkook was tipsy and better enough to send Jimin away. 

It was late, really, really late. 

He sent a few more texts to Yuri, now starting to get worried. None of them were answered.

The only thing that kept him sane was the fact that this wasn’t the first time it’s happened. She’d ghosted him before, leading Jungkook to nearly have a panic attack before she came back, claiming her phone had died. He just hoped maybe that’s what happened today. 

More time passed by and his eyes started getting heavy as he continued to stare at his TV. He probably would have fallen asleep if it wasn’t for the sound of beeps from someone putting in the passcode for the door. 

Jungkook sprung off of the couch as the door opened to reveal the girl he’d been wanting to see the entire day. Yuri slowly closed the door behind her, probably thinking he was asleep. All the lights were off except for the TV. 

“Yuri?” He asked hesitantly, a bit scared he was dreaming. 

She quickly turned around as soon as she heard his voice. 

Part of him was tempted to yell, even scream at her for abandoning him the way she did, but he was in no mood to pick a fight. Instead, he steadily waddled over to the front door where she was standing, careful not to bump into any furniture but the room had started to spin.

Jungkook was a bit stunned when he noticed her outfit. It was dark, but he could still see she was wearing this short, little red dress that seemed to sparkle even in the darkness. He had a feeling that she and this mysterious “friend from the US” had probably gone out to a club. He didn’t even feel like interrogating her. Nope, instead he finally made his way over, wrapped his arms around her frame, buried his face into her shoulder, and bathed in her warmth. 

Maybe he was a little more than tipsy…

“Missed you so much…” he whispered quietly into her skin as he placed gentle kisses on her shoulder, the slur in his words even noticeable to his ears. 

Jungkook felt her arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, a wave of excitement that he’d been missing all day washed over him. 

“Did you really?” She lulled like a siren’s song, leading him down a path to forget everything that happened. He wanted to say something, but being drunk left him unable to form any cohesive thoughts to convey his feelings; the hurt he felt being abandoned, how much had he wished he spent this entire day running around Seoul with her by his side, how much had he hoped she would just come home so they could, at the very least, share a meal together. All of these moments, memories, time, and energy wasted.

But he didn’t want to turn this into another fight, instead he just nodded into her skin. “So fucking much.” It was a little more crude than the romantic declaration he was going for, but it didn’t matter. He meant what he said, he really did miss her. 

Yuri hummed lightly into his ear, and he couldn't stop himself from pressing her against the wall, pulling back slightly so they were eye to eye, and resting his forehead against hers. Her presence was intoxicating, in a way that made all the worries so easily wash away. He was supposed to be mad, he had every right to be, but for some reason that didn’t stop his hand from coming up and his thumb gently caressing her cheek; so soft and warm.

He was definitely more than a little drunk at this point. Not to the point he was confused where he was, but he was faded enough to be wobbly on his feet, and the liquid courage was certainly flowing through his system to make him bolder than usual.

A moment passed, one that if he was more sober, he would have thought through more. Did he want this? Should he turn back? But whatever he felt in the past, it didn’t really matter anymore. His wife was here now, he should be happy. 

If he was questioning it anymore, the look in her eyes was enough for that seesaw to finally land. It was sultry, like she wanted him to forget and he wanted to as well. 

Jungkook felt the rush surge faster than any rational thought could stop, his lips were on hers in a haste to finally feel her. It was slow at first, Jungkook wanting her to know just how much he wanted her to be here with him. It made him feel so warm, the affection he’d been craving for all day was finally happening.

He couldn’t stop himself from pushing her further into the door and picking up the pace. It all happened so fast.

Suddenly his tongue was down her throat, he could taste the sweet alcohol she had probably drank, and with the fleeting reminder of the dress she was wearing as his hands ran up her thighs, an odd sense of possessiveness came over him. He had no idea who she was with, if this “friend from the US” even existed, but he had the odd feeling of making her remember exactly who she was to him. She was his wife, everyone, everywhere should know that. 

Jungkook hastily picked her up and put her on the kitchen counter that was closest to him. His hands roamed her sides, tracing every curve with a hunger and need that saw no end. Soft sighs of pleasure fell from her lips as his hips steadily rocked into hers, and he relished in any sound he was able to draw out of her. All he wanted to do was make her feel good, that’s all he ever wanted. Her hands gripped his shirt tightly and he wished for nothing more than for her to rip it off of him. His skin burned and pleaded for more. As much as he enjoyed kissing her like this, this wasn’t enough.

He couldn’t wait anymore. He picked her up again and led them over to their shared bedroom, he didn’t even bother turning on the lights as he gently laid her on their bed. Jungkook quickly slotted himself between her thighs and dived straight back to her lips. 

His mind felt fuzzy, maybe it was just because he was more drunk than what he thought, but as he ground himself into her clothed core, the sudden realization of everything hit him hard. 

They haven’t had sex in months, literal months since the last time he felt the warmth of her walls around him. They’ve done other things, but full-blown sex…

“Yuri… please….” He cried as his hand traveled under her dress to hover over her panties. Yuri quickly nodded and that was all he needed to lose his mind. 

He pulled her dress up and moved down so he was staring at her clothed core. 

He quickly pulled her panties down her legs before his face was buried between her thighs, and he was diving in for his rightful meal. Jungkook was good, using his tongue to work her clit and he had two fingers buried deep inside her, all the while he was practically fucking the mattress in a haste for any kind of friction. 

When he said they hadn’t had sex it was more so that Jungkook hadn’t been touched in months. Jungkook was a good husband, always there to take care of his wife when she wanted him. But she never let him take things further. This was just another running problem in their marriage. His sex life was pretty much nonexistent. He never wanted to be that guy, and especially with the fact that their marriage was relatively new and they were still getting to know each other, he knew sex was going to be a tricky subject. 

There were clear boundaries set, and he was okay with taking things slow right now, but does it leave him frustrated sometimes? Yes, extremely. 

The amount of times Jungkook has done this for her, he knew her patterns and how to get her cumming on his tongue in no time. Her moans and pleas were all music to his ears, knowing he was doing something right for once. 

By the time he pulled away, Jungkook was hardly keeping it together. He practically ripped off his shirt and pants, tossing them off the bed somewhere into the abyss of the darkness. 

When he turned back to her, he was practically drooling at how fucked out she looked; Yuri’s hair cascaded around her, reminding him of the angel she looked like on their wedding day, and her dress was pushed up to her thighs and the straps were brought down revealing her tits. 

Oh fuck. Now, now, now. 

Jungkook hurriedly kissed her, before reaching over to his nightstand, and opening the drawer to grab a condom. The box wasn’t right there so his hand had to search and feel his way around— it didn’t take long, but it was too long in his desperation when he was finally pulling one out.  

“Jungkook, wait… what are you doing?” Yuri asked once he finally managed to pull one out of the box. 

He looked at her hoping this didn’t mean what he thought it did. He kissed her again and buried himself into her shoulder. “Baby please… wanna feel you…” he pleaded, grinding slowly into her heat. A moan fell from his lips, the friction was desperately needed. He would take anything at this point. 

“Been so long… I missed you.” It was bad. His body was crying out for something, and he wanted Yuri to give him just that. It was starting to hurt. 

“But it’s late, Jungkook. I’m tired.” Yuri sighed, making his heart drop. 

“But…but…” he mumbled. He moved so he could see her face and he could immediately tell she wasn’t joking. 

“It’s fine, I promise I’ll be quick. You worked me up so much, just—“ 

“Jungkook, not tonight, okay?” She grumbled, clearly done with the moment they shared. This is what happens all the time. He didn’t know why he thought it was going to be different considering the occasion, but that didn’t stop him from feeling a bit disappointed. 

Jungkook just sighed and rolled off of her. His skin burned with need and he knew he had to do something. It hurt, it had been so fucking long.

He tried not to be mad but he was. He hurriedly got up from the bed. 

“I’m going to take a shower… a very long shower.” He huffed.

“Jungkook you better not do that shit in our—“ was the last thing he heard before he slammed the door. 

He tried to be calm; he didn’t want to get mad over something like this. The marriage was still new, there were going to be hurdles. It happens. 

Today had just been terrible. All the emotions he had tried his best to suppress were coming out; he was angry, he was depressed, he was frustrated. There hadn’t been one moment that he felt like things were okay, today had been just as horrible as he thought it would be and then some since he woke up this morning.

All he wanted was some type of relief. 

He quickly turned on the shower to hopefully stop her from hearing him, and got to work pleasing his body in the only way he could. His hand covered his mouth while the other traveled down his body, finally grabbing a hold of himself. 

He thought about how today would have turned out if it went the way he wanted. Jungkook would have woken his wife up with every affirmation of how much he loved her, how happy she’d made him since they got married, as he showered her with all the praise his mushy heart would come up with in that moment. 

Jungkook wouldn’t have wanted to leave her that morning, but duty calls and with the taste of her still on his tongue he would have gone to work. It was hard to be apart for those few hours. He would have struggled to keep his eyes off his phone as she cutely texted and pleaded for him to be home soon because she missed him so much.

The minute he would have returned Jungkook could hardly get inside before she was tackling him with kisses. She would have been already dressed for their day out, wearing that pretty off-the-shoulder dress with flowers all over it, knowing how much that one drives him crazy. But none of that mattered because the dress was hitting the floor before he could close the door behind him.

Another moment of passion and love as they did it right there on the floor. Jungkook would have been enthralled by her warmth and her love. She would have let her heart’s declarations spill from her mouth continuously as he held her in his arms; that she wanted him here, that she cared for him just as much as he did for her. 

Then they were finally able to pull away from each other. It was just long enough that Jungkook could whisk her around Seoul to all the destinations he’d planned to take her. They’ve both lived in Seoul for most of their lives but Jungkook made sure to pick obscure but momentous places around the city that he was sure she’d enjoy:

 A jazz lounge for a late lunch, he’d seen videos of the band that played there and he knew it would have been perfect to have in the background as they conversed. He also planned to take her to the mall– one of her favorite spots to go with her friends. He hoped to share some of that excitement and treat her to whatever she stumbled across that day, showing his wife just how much she means to him. He had pictured holding the bags while she dragged him along to wherever she wanted to go, sitting down for hours as she tried out dresses and him struggling to convey that he really meant it when he said she looked beautiful in whatever she put on. There was so much more, a day full of wonders, kisses, hugs. But the night would have ended with a nice, romantic walk by Han River, enjoying the sights and scenery in the cool September air. They would have hopefully gotten the chance to stop by this dessert place Secretary Yu told him about that she promised Yuri would love. Maybe they would have kept walking as they ate and talked their hearts out. Jungkook had practiced all these cheesy lines he hoped she would have liked, at least laugh at, anything to see her smile. 

It would have been magical and when they would have made it back to the apartment, they would’ve immediately gone back to the room to end the night with a bang. She would have felt so good, he knew she would. He probably would have lost his mind just having his wife close and by his side. His heart would have melted every time she would look into his eyes. Her hands on him, pleading, pleading for him to make her feel good. 

No, maybe… maybe even in this reality, the one where he had a horrible day, even then it would have been so nice to be with her. That’s all he wanted.

He whined and whimpered as his thumb traced along the tip, precum leaking profusely. His hand made quick work of its strokes, hastily trying to chase the pleasure he’d been denied of the whole day. 

He had to resist the urge to scream when he ended up spilling all over his hand, stomach, and thighs. It had been way too long. 

Jungkook ended up in the shower not too long after, the water cool against his skin to keep the burning desire for more at bay. Instead, he just thought about his day, how shitty it was. 

Like of all days, he got coffee spilled all over him? It sounded like something out of a sitcom.

But you… 

Suddenly he thought back to you, your long legs and red lipstick. You were definitely one of his saving graces. Without you, he would have been stuck worrying about this launch. That wasn’t completely alleviated, but the team had texted throughout the day that your method had looked promising, and especially considering what they already invested into advertising, the wave of demand would hopefully nearly double by the time the next shipment rolled out. Though it wasn’t going to be exactly the profit they had expected to bring in from this quarter, this method should hopefully in the long run make up for the botched launch.

Without you he might have still been at the office, the teams and him trying his best to come up with some sort of solution in dealing with the consequences and ramifications of such an unexpected fuck up. It was still odd that it had been weeks since production started, and they had only noticed this malfunction now…  

He needed to head down to the factories and see for himself what exactly happened, but he already had a few names in mind of people who might not be here for much longer.

But he wouldn’t worry about that now, instead his mind drifted back to you during the meeting today.

He already knew working with you was going to be interesting, and despite the rough start, he was looking forward to seeing where you might go. 

main masterlist ✩ series masterlist » next chapter

[empthy1]

Would you ever do a fic of maybe like a domestic Victoria Nueman x gn/fem!r ?? Her and Sage are also my two favourite characters from The Boys at the moment like they just get shit done and they’re super pretty and smart.

- 👁

ofc! and yes you did spell domestic right lol. ty for the request babe. also wtf. wifey is dead. pure fluff.

It’s not often she gets to sleep in past seven—always awoken by the blaring of her alarm clock, reminding her it’s time to get up and go to work.

So not her favorite sound.

What she hears now, though… it must be her favorite, in the entire world.

You both wake up at eight to the sun streaming through the curtains, warm light all over your face. You seem disgruntled, bleary-eyed and slightly confused as you pull yourself from the blankets. Victoria doesn’t mind, endeared by the sight—evident in the way she’s leaning over to kiss you.

You don’t get out of bed until eight-thirty.

Zoe isn’t up yet by the time you stumble into the kitchen. She makes a beeline for the coffee, grumbling something incoherent.

“What was that..?” Is your huffed, amused response, eyes shinning at the view of her ruffled hair and bare face, unmarred by stress—something so rare these days.

Another grumble follows, before she drinks from her mug, the one Zoe got hers for Mother’s Day, and turns to face you.

“Could you wake Zoe up while I get started on breakfast?” She mumbles, already setting her mug down and opening the fridge.

You hum an affirmative, padding softly down the hallway. Her door is slightly cracked, room bathed in darkness, except for the nightlight in the corner. Your hand brushes hair from her face, careful not to startle her as her nose twitches. It makes you smile. Just like her mom.

“G’morning, baby.” You hum, hand gently stroking her shoulder. She pushes up with a soft huff, rubbing her eyes. “Breakfast.”

It’s all you need to say before she’s out of bed, sleepily wandering down the hallway. Victoria greets you with a soft hum as you press against her back, the smell of pancakes and bacon entering your nose.

Zoe is quickly served a plate and retreats to the dining room, but you both linger in the kitchen, enjoying the morning and the beams of sun drifting over each other.

“Good morning, my love.” She hums, greeting you for the first time since you woke up, forty-five minutes ago.

“Good morning.” You mumble right back, now against her lips. As the soft kiss lands and her breath sighs over your face, all the long days seem worth it—if only to have these little moments of peace.

[shaunamilfman]

to be felled by you

pairing: shauna shipman x reader summary: What started out as a fistfight in the middle of the woods might actually manage to bring you together as you work out your differences in a more pleasurable way. note: smut but theres like fr descriptions of violence before it

“Shauna,” you snapped, jerking your arm away from her grasp as she dragged you off into the trees. You follow a step behind her as you let her lead you away, already having half an idea what this was about. If she wanted to do this, you sure as hell weren’t going to stop her. 

Shauna finally whirls around, turning to face you quickly enough that you stumble into her. You can feel both of her hands on your shoulders before she sends you stumbling backward. You hit the ground with a surprised grunt, staring up at the stars as you try to figure out how you got here. You press up with your elbows as you look up at her, slowly sitting up as Shauna glares down at you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You huff, slowly making your way to your feet as you keep your eyes focused on her. You knew she was angry, and when Shauna was angry she made it everyone else’s problem. This was going to get explosive.

The two of you are locked in a standoff as you glare at each other from a few feet away. You brush the dirt off of your elbows, disgruntled and more than a little confused. You’re still not entirely sure what this is even about, but you weren’t in the best of moods to begin with. 

Hitting the dirt certainly didn’t help.

Shauna’s eyes were intense and cruel, her jaw clenched in a way that told you she was seething. Her hands were clenched tight, a slight tremble to them as she struggles to get ahold of her temper. You try to keep yourself calm, but you’re starting to realize that’s just as much of a losing battle for you as it clearly is for her.

“Is this about earlier, Shauna?” you ask, slow and cautious. “We can still talk about it. We don’t have to do this.”

You’re not sure if you could keep that promise, but it’s even more unlikely that Shauna would even go for it. It made you feel slightly better to offer it, anyway. Shauna didn’t want a calm, rational conversation, you knew. She didn’t want to talk it out with you, she just wanted to hit you. She needed the fight.

She scoffs, a bitter smile telling you what she thinks of that idea. “You always do this,” she accuses. “Acting like just talking can fix everything.” 

“What do you want, Shauna? A fight? Fine.”

“You followed me all the way out here,” she accuses. “Don’t pretend you didn’t know what it was about.”

Shauna clenches her fists, her knuckles turning white as she shifts just enough that you start to raise your guard. You slowly mirror her, muscles tense and ready as you watch her face. She’s always been so expressive, her face showing every little thought that runs through her head. It’s a wonder it doesn’t get her in trouble more, as you can tell from the set of her jaw exactly when she’s made her mind up about swinging on you.

She swings at you with a wild punch that just misses as you take a reflexive step back. Her knuckle just barely grazes your jaw, leaving her slightly off balance as you retaliate with a shove. Shauna grunts as her back hits the tree, the impact sending a shock through her body as her eyes widen. 

You watch her as she catches her breath, a wild look in her eyes as you raise your arms defensively. With a snarl she pushes off the tree, on you again in a heartbeat. You just barely manage to sidestep, scraping your arm up something fierce on the tree for your efforts as you grab her arm and twist it behind her back. 

The sound she makes is barely human, filled with rage and sending shivers down your spine. Her back is pressed flush against you for a moment, the two of you frozen in a twisted sort of embrace before she kicks back at your shin. It lands with a painful thud, nearly taking your breath away with the sudden sharp pain as you have to resist the urge to grab at your leg.

Her elbow finds your ribs, forcing you to step back as the simple act of breathing becomes painful. You lash out, landing a desperate blow against the side of her face as you create some distance to catch your breath.

Damn, could she throw a punch. Not that you ever doubted it.

Her hand slowly reaches up to her face, her eyes narrowing as her fingers come away slick with blood. Shauna looks dangerous, almost feral, as she slowly cocks her head to the side to study you. She takes a step forward, grinning as you take a step back. Her blood is dripping down into her teeth, turning the look into something nightmarish as she advances.

Springing forward out of the blue, she takes the both of you to the floor in a mess of limbs and flailing punches. Anger fuels you, overriding any hesitations you have about rolling around with her in the dirt.

You manage to pin her for a moment, your forearm pressed against her throat as she glares up at you. Her teeth snap as she tries to bite at your outstretched arm, a move that didn’t much surprise you considering just who you had beneath you.

“Is this what you wanted, Shauna?” you hissed, pressing down just lightly enough to avoid actually choking her. Her eyes flicker with something other than rage for just a second before she manages to throw you off balance with a sudden buck of her hips. 

The smell of the earth and leaves fills your nostrils, the sound of cracking sticks punctuating the air as the two of you roll through the underbrush. You cry out as she finally lands a hit, turning your head with the force of it as your vision spins. 

For a while, all you know is rage, consumed with the need to hurt her more than she hurt you. It's clear she feels the same, that her anger is the only thing holding her up as you punch her wherever is closest. 

You get a few hits to her face, more slaps than anything with how much you struggle to get any real distance to swing, before she yanks at your hair. It stings more than you thought it would, sparing only a passing thought to how fucking petty hair-pulling is before you reach up and start bending her finger away.

She lets go quickly, a muffled yelp leaving her mouth at the threat of you actually doing serious damage to her finger otherwise. You take her distraction for what it is, finally managing to get enough leverage to get up on your knees above her as you pin her wrists above her head. Breathing heavily, you look down at her, her body still twisting and thrashing as she tries to get you off of her.

Shauna’s panting heavily, the rise and fall of her chest a distracting motion that you force yourself to turn away from as you finally get a real look at her. Her hair looks messy, tangled with leaves and the remnants of broken sticks from the forest floor. Her face isn’t much better, smeared with dirt and blood as it trickles slowly down her face from her nose. 

The sight of her, bruised and battered, is more distracting than you’d anticipated. It's intoxicating having Shauna underneath you like this, pinned and unable to do anything about it. 

She's thrashing beneath you, more like a wild animal than you'd ever seen her. You're sure that she could get you back off of her if she tried hard enough, so it has to be somewhat of a deliberate choice. 

Her face is flushed with anger, and something else that you can’t quite name. There’s a flicker of something else in her eyes, just long enough for it to catch your attention.

Her face, betraying her once again. She struggles beneath you; her face just inches from yours, giving you an up close look as your heavy breaths mingle together. Your grip on her wrists loosens just the slightest as you lean closer and closer. Shauna falters as your warm breath reaches her lips, searching your face for some kind of understanding. 

You wonder if she's going to kiss you or kill you. 

You almost pull away as she leans forward, afraid she's just going to bite you. And she does, hard. But not nearly as hard as she can, not hard enough to break the skin. 

She holds your lip between her teeth, just long enough for you to understand the threat of it before she soothes it with her tongue. 

The line slowly starts to blur between you, and before you know it you’ve both leaned in. The kiss was another battle within itself, all teeth and tongues and raw anger as you fight for control. Hands that were once weapons are now used as tools, both of you intending to make the other break first. The urgency that underlies your fight has shifted, a new desire taking its place.

You're not sure what's wrong with you, why you'd kiss a girl that was just trying to hurt you. But you can't pull yourself away. 

Won't even try to. 

She’s possessive, claiming every inch of you for herself. She finally slips out of your hands, making you readjust your position as she starts feeling you up. There’s nothing gentle about her touch, all passion and hunger that borders on obsession. Shauna wants to devour you, and you’re not about to put up a fight.

The rough feeling of the forest floor beneath your knees grounds you, something painfully sharp digging into your knee and keeping you solely in the moment even as your head spins.

Shauna’s hands make their way back into your hair, not to injure, but instead to draw you closer as you slip your cold hands up Shauna’s shirt. You break apart for air, both gasping heavily once again, but this time her eyes were dark with lust instead of just anger. You come together again without a word exchanged, fight forgotten as you press tightly against each other.

The taste of blood and dirt mixes with the intensity of the kiss, but you can’t bring yourself to deny yourself for even a moment. Shauna’s hands roam your back, her fingers digging in just enough to leave marks, a physical reminder of what’s gone down. You break away with a cry of pain as she drags her nails down your back, a look of possessive glee on her face as you rest your forehead against hers.

“Watch those,” you mutter, truly not that put out about it. 

Shauna shrugs, moving her lips to your jaw in lieu of an apology. She trails hot kisses down your neck, insistent as she rolls her hips up against yours. Her teeth dig in just enough to leave a mark, leaving a trail of bruises that will be hell to hide. Shauna’s hands tangle in your hair as she tilts your head back, exposing more skin to mark up. 

Your hands roam her body with a desperation you’d never admit to, needing to memorize every curve and dip of her body. The fight has completely melted away, replaced with a need to be close, to feel her body against yours. You capture her lips again, slower this time, wanting to savor the taste of her. You can feel every inch of her against you, her shirt riding up with your hands.

The kiss is every bit as intense without the underlying anger. Shauna’s hands move to cup your face, brushing the dirt away from your cheeks as she arches up against you.

You pull away with a laugh, amused despite yourself at her impatience. The sight of her face doesn’t help much, the blood on her face now utterly unflattering now that it’s been smeared everywhere. You’re sure you look about the same as Shauna’s lips twitch in turn. 

She lets out a frustrated sigh as she glares, her head dropping back against the ground in irritation. Her eyes follow the movement of your lips, not at all appreciating the separation. She’s annoyed that you aren’t kissing her still, finally sitting up as she shrugs off her flannel. You bat her hands away as she reaches for the hem of her shirt, wanting to take it off yourself as you slowly expose the sweat-slicked skin beneath.

Shauna’s eyes follow your hands as they slowly skim her sides, feeling the curves of her torso. Her skin was warm and smooth, muscles toned from years of soccer. She lets out a ragged breath as you reach higher, the heat of her skin searing into your palms even through her bra as you cup her chest. Her eyes flutter shut as she leans into your hands, allowing you to stare unashamedly at her as she responds to your touch.

Her hands roam your back, impatient as she tugs at the fabric of your shirt. You raise your arms reluctantly, pulling away from her skin to let her pull it over your head.

It’s like she can’t get it off quick enough, almost yanking it over your shoulders in her haste to see you. She immediately narrows in on the bruise she left forming your ribs, running her fingertips lightly over it. You quickly redirect her attention as you start to lay her back down, not wanting her to get any ideas about applying pressure to it.

You hit the ground with a huff as she reverses your position, suddenly smug as she looks down at you. Her triumphant expression is infuriating, her eyes glinting with a mixture of victory and amusement. You shift uncomfortably, sitting up to brush away the rock digging into your skin that you're sure she took great care to flip you on top of. Her thighs hug one of yours, the warmth and pressure a constant reminder of her as your hands settle on her hips. 

She's got a lazy smile on her face that you know promises trouble, opening her mouth to say something you're sure is appropriately cutting before you decide to give her a taste of her own medicine. 

Shauna lets out a surprised squeak as you bite her for once, blushing so hard you can feel it against your face as you worry the skin of her neck between your teeth. A deep, shuddery breath marks the action, her hand coming up to hold you against her skin rather than push you away. Her grip is firm, possessive, a clear sign that she doesn’t want you to stop.

You can feel how excited it’s made her, her pulse thrumming beneath your teeth as you let go. She inhales sharply as you run your tongue along the length of the mark before soothing it with kisses as her fingers tighten in your hair. Her lazy smile has been wiped from her face, replaced with a look of intense desire almost bordering on awe.

There’s a deep, painful looking bruise on her neck that makes her thighs squeeze around yours as she presses her fingers against it. There would be no hiding that one, which you're sure is part of the appeal. What you wouldn't give to be a fly on the wall as she tries to explain that to Jackie Taylor. 

“Is this what you wanted, Shauna?” You repeat, your voice tinged with a mixture of desire and a lingering defiance. 

Once again, she doesn’t answer with words. Instead, she pulls you into another kiss before trailing her way down to your shoulder. Her teeth scrape over your shoulder before she bites you again; not too hard, just enough for it to show. She makes sure you can feel her there, her arms resting over your shoulders as she holds you in place, her breath hot against your skin.

You rest your hands on her hips, slowly, deliberately, rocking her onto your thigh in a move she's eager to assist with. Her body moves in sync with yours, creating an intoxicating rhythm as she rides your thigh. She kisses the mark she's left, her tongue flicking out to soothe the skin before lightly nibbling at it.

Her hands splay out against your back, fingers spread wide as they flex into your skin. The friction sends a jolt of pleasure through you both, her forehead resting against your shoulder as she moves against you. Her breath comes out in quick, shallow bursts as you drag her down harder against your thigh. 

“Yeah,” she breathes out. “This is what I wanted.” Her skin is slick with sweat, her muscles flexing and relaxing beneath your touch. She pauses as you pull away, taking a moment to admire the bruise forming on your skin. A little shiver of delight goes through her, a sigh following it as you’re finally out of biting range.

She starts to follow you down before reconsidering as you tug her hips forward. There’s a curious look on her face as she scoots up, her eyes widening suddenly as she realizes what you want. Her hands play at the button of her jeans before quickly agreeing, almost falling over herself in her eagerness to get out of them.

Shauna presses her hands against your chest, swinging one leg over your torso in one fluid motion as she straddles you. You gasp at the feeling of her bare against your stomach, your hands grabbing instinctively at her thighs as she rolls her hips against you. Her knees dig into your sides, a purposeful squeeze that has you short for breath.

She slowly made her way up your chest, guaranteeing she had your attention as she positioned herself. Her thighs framed your face, raising up to let you reposition yourself as she stares down at you. You squeeze her skin beneath your fingers, your thumb pressing into the muscles of her thighs appreciatively.

Your hands tighten around her thighs as she lowers herself to your face. She sighs at the first tentative touch of your tongue, groaning as you dig your fingertips in to drag her closer. The pressure of her thighs against your shoulders has you sighing against her skin, lapping at her eagerly the second she gets in reach.

Shauna gasps as your tongue delves deep inside her, making her squirm as you circle her entrance. You keep up the pace, slow and measured as you drive her wild. Her back arches as she tries to hold back the moan, quickly overwhelmed by your attention.

You think you could get addicted to this: the taste of her, the little sounds that leave her mouth, the way her muscles tremble as she struggles to keep still, the way her fingers bury themselves in your hair as her back arches. She’s so wet against your mouth, you can already feel her dripping down your face.

Shauna blushes at the wet slurping noises as you eat her out, her thighs trembling as your tongue dances around her sensitive spots.

“Fuck,” she whispers. You’re ruthlessly attentive, hands gripping her tightly to hold her in place as you devour her. You finally let go of her, only to slap her hands away as she tries to slip her hand between her thighs.

The sight of her, flushed and desperate as you look up at her from between her thighs, has you moaning into her. Her hips jerk and the sensation of your tongue brushing against her clit has her gasping, instinctively rolling her hips before she catches herself. Her nails dig into your scalp, her thighs tightening around your head as she tilts her hips up in a silent plea for more.

You tease her clit with quick, deft flicks of your tongue. Her back arches as she moans, her grip on your hair becoming painful as you taste her. She tentatively rocks her hips forward, quickly making her own rhythm at your lack of protests. 

You let her control the pace, let her dig her nails into your scalp as her body tenses. She’s achingly beautiful above you, flushed and desperate.

The sound of her need mixes with her ragged breath, a soft whine leaving her lips as she becomes more erratic. Shauna’s so close you can feel it, her body quivering as she starts to reach the edge. 

You can’t help but delight in her loss of control, the way she bites her lip to stop from crying out, the way her hands drop from your hair as you drive her wild.

She pulls your fingers away from her skin as she laces your fingers together, holding onto your hands for purchase as her hips move with your mouth. She cries out your name as she comes, her whole body shuddering as her hips stutter out her release.

Shauna collapses back on your chest, your hands pulling away from hers to support her thighs as the weight of her starts to become too much. Her thighs are still trembling as she pulls away, settling on her knees next to you as you sit up.

Her eyes are laser focused on your face, biting at her lip as she wipes her thumb across your lower face. It comes away wet, a mixture of your blood and her arousal that she slowly licks away. She leans down, sharing the taste between you as she captures your lips again.

“Please,” you mumble against her lips, holding her face ever so gently between your hands. You want more, or you want her. It's all the same thing, really. 

… 

“I’m sorry,” you say after a while, turning your head to look at her.

She turns to give you a confused look, her lips quirking into a smile. 

“I didn’t realize you liked Jackie when I was talking her up earlier.”

Shauna snorts, face turning red, before burning her face into your shoulder as she shakes with laughter. 

“You’re so stupid,” she chokes out, slapping lightly at your chest as she wheezes from how hard she’s laughing.

“What?”

“It was you, idiot.”

Oh. Oh.

“Well–”

[heavenlyvision]

IT'S GETTING COLD AGAIN

pairing: bi-han/reader

wc: 12.6k

this is part 6 to my 'when hell freezes over' series with bi-han ʚ⁺˖⤷ part one part two part three part four part five

summary: after bi-han says something so incredibly vulnerable you're faced with a choice but how are you meant to reciprocate when you're feeling so confused and how long will he wait for your reply. both action and inaction have consequences.

a/n; it took me a while to get back to my origins but here it is... the boy! for those who were patient during the wait -- thank you very much! i appreciate you all heaps and i hope it was – at the very least – semi-worth the wait <3 (i'm a little unsure about this one so if it's not good i'm really sorry) ૮꒰ o̴̶̷᷄᎔o̴̶̷̥᷅ ꒱ა

warnings: 18+ only, smut, angst, reader cries, comfort(?), swearing, dirty talk, cunnilingus, fingering, p in v sex, denied orgasms/edging, overstimulation, creampie, mean!bi-han, f!reader, use of she/her pronouns, no y/n used

MDNI | SMUT UNDER CUT

That night, he doesn’t go to your room and you’re too scared to go to his. you hadn’t been able to say anything in reply, you stood there, dumb and scared. You’re not used to being cared for and you weren’t expecting such an admission from him… not now.

But the longer you stared, the colder his expression grew, it’s like you could see in real time how he was putting his walls back into place, disappointed in your lack of reciprocation but too guarded to confront you about it, he wanted to move on and pretend he hadn’t just said that, pretend he hadn’t just ruined everything…. but he hadn’t ruined anything, you had.

In that moment, you didn’t know if the way you felt was anxiety or excitement, it’s still not clear to you now. It’s been a week since that night in the kitchen and he hasn’t approached you. It hurts but you know you’re the one who’s meant to approach him… you’re scared and the longer you leave it, the more scared you get.

You feel like you’ve left it too long but you don’t want to go to him without having something concrete to offer. Telling him you’re confused feels unfair, you want to be able to tell him exactly how you feel.

Training is difficult, you’re trying so hard to focus but it’s not working and you keep getting your ass thrown on the floor. For the fourth time in a row, Kenshi trips you up and has you on the floor below him, he looks down at you and quirks a brow, “You feeling okay?”

Sighing you take the hand he offers you and let him pull you up, “Yes?”

“You don’t sound certain,” he’s a little amused by your unsure tone.

You groan a bit, disgruntled, “I’m distracted.”

“I’ve noticed,” he tilts his head at you, waiting for you to offer him an answer as to why.

“Don’t worry about it, let’s go again,” you move back into a defensive stance, getting ready for him to come at you first.

He crosses his arms over his chest, not moving, “You have lost the past four rounds and you want to keep going? Isn’t your ass bruised enough?”

“Don’t get cocky just cause I’m off my game,” you glower at him.

He scoffs a bit at that, “You’re not just ‘off your game’, you’re not even in the game right now.”

The words make your stance falter, “Okay…ouch.”

His expression is sheepish, a little sorry for being so harsh, “If I drop you again you have to tell me what’s wrong.”

You perk back up, “Easy, I won’t be dropped again.”

…You’re dropped again. It’s a little embarrassing how easily he manages to get you back onto your ass, he was right… you’re not in the game today. You shouldn’t have made that deal… how are you meant to tell him about what Bi-Han said and what you didn’t say.

Kenshi offers his hand to help you up again and as you take it, you feel Bi-Han’s eyes on you. You falter in getting up, resulting in Kenshi using more force to pull you up, you bump into him slightly.

His hands move to either side of your shoulders and pull you back, “Woah, you good?”

Bi-Han’s eyes on you feel weighted, “Hmm? Yeah, sorry…” You take a step away from him, out of his reach.

You’re fighting the urge to look for Bi-Han, too anxious to meet his eyes. Turning your head in the opposite direction, you wait for the feeling of him watching you to stop. When he walks away, you can feel yourself physically relax and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Ah,” Kenshi speaks after having watched the scene unfold in front of him, “I see what has happened now.”

“Nothing happened,” you insist, not wanting to talk about this with anyone, there isn’t anyone you feel like you could talk to regarding this.

“I’m not an idiot,” he rolls his eyes lightly. “We had a deal… you gonna talk to me?”

You huff, “It’s fine, honestly.”

“If that were true, you wouldn’t have been absent all week,” he argues.

Feeling awkward, you try to keep denying, “I’ve not been that bad…”

He gives you a straight on look, one that says ‘yes, yes you have been that bad’.

You give in, “He said something, I didn’t… and now I feel confused and bad…”

“Do you have something you want to say to him?” He asks, simply.

Tipping your head to the side for a moment, you answer, “I have plenty of things I want to say but I’m not sure about anything and I feel like going to him with anything other than certainty in the words I say is a disservice to him…”

He thinks on your words, “I understand your line of thinking… but don’t you think leaving him in the dark and ignoring him is an even bigger disservice?”

Exasperated, you pose, “What good is talking to him when I have nothing of significance to say?”

“What good is ignoring him?” He shuffles his feet and rolls his head, “Listen, I’m gonna be blunt for a second–”

“–Aren’t you always?”

“Hush,” he squints at you in disapproval but continues on, “Are you ignoring him for his sake or for yours? What I mean to say is… is talking to him harder for him or for you. Because personally, I think you’re scared of what the possible consequences of whatever you say might be. If you cared so much about how he was feeling, you wouldn’t be making him wait a week to hear from you.”

You pout and mumble, “He could also approach me…”

“He said something and you didn’t, isn’t it your turn to talk?” He shrugs.

It’s annoying that you told him so little but he’s inferred a lot from it… you don’t know if he’s completely correct but you know he’s not all wrong. Part of you knew that ignoring Bi-Han wasn’t fair to him but you don’t think you’re wrong about not being able to answer him properly being unfair either.

It comes down to what is less fair right now and annoyingly, Kenshi is right, in that it’s less fair to be ignoring him after he was so vulnerable. You’re just worried you might have waited too long and now he won’t be able to give himself that piece of you that he was willing to a week ago. Though… that’s probably the consequence you’ve been so scared of.

“I can see I’ve given you a lot to think about,” Kenshi’s voice brings you out of your thoughts.

You make eye contact with him, “I don’t know what you mean, we never spoke about this and even if we did… everything you said was so far off base that I couldn’t relate it to anything that has happened to me even if I wanted to…”

He barks a small laugh at your statement, “Alright, I get the message, we never spoke about this, I didn’t hear anything, in fact… I’m not even sure I know you.”

You smile softly, “Thank you, Kenshi.”

He gives you a puzzled look, “I’m sorry? Do I know you?”

You laugh at that, “Come on grandpa, it’s just after midday, nearly dinner time for you.”

“Har har,” he begins walking away from you at your bad joke and you have to jog to keep up with him.

❆˖°

It’s hard to think, it isn’t normally, at least not when you’re here but you have too many thoughts to sort through for the venue to have any impact on them. The rock is as it always is, it’s cold but the view is pretty and the air is clean, nature is humming and the earth is still, and in spite of all these things, in spite of how much comfort the elements grace you with, you are frustrated to the bone.

Are you still in a relationship? You’ve not spoken in over a week now… it’s not even like you’re fighting, you just aren’t talking. The regret you feel is digging straight down into your core and settling deep, you miss him so much, does he miss you?

All at once, you’re too aware of how you’re sabotaging yourself, it’s not that you’re uncertain about how you feel… you know very well how you feel. You’re just not as brave as Bi-Han, because instead of saying aloud how you feel, you fell silent. Is it too late to tell him you’re scared too? That you’re falling for him too?

Gods, you’ve messed everything up, he was so open with you, it was a moment that by all means called for that kind of vulnerability and you dropped it all. Remembering his face hurts more than anything, if he’s blaming himself even a little bit for your mistake, for your inaction, you’re going to jump off a cliff.

Against your will, your eyes well with tears, you try to hold them back but ultimately fail. You decide to let yourself have this quiet moment to cry, folding in on yourself, tucking your head into your knees and wrapping your arms around yourself. You can’t even pretend to ask how it all got this way; you know how it got to be this way; it was by your own hand.

The pair of you had parted that night, going different directions, few words spoken other than goodnights. The last thing you had said to him before you left for your room had been another thank you for dinner, too casual for the words he had spoken.

You need to stop crying, it’s self-pitying at this point, you have literally no one else to blame but yourself. You need to get over this inability to be cared for.

“I’d ask if you were okay but I can clearly see that is not the case,” Liu Kang’s voice from behind shocks you. Hastily, you wipe at your eyes as he comes into your view, “You missed dinner… again.”

You sniffle, “Ah, I didn’t realise, sorry…”

He ignores your lie, he knows you’ve been avoiding group dinners, “He’s worried you know.”

Doubting Liu Kang’s knowledge on this, you ask, “Did he tell you that?”

“He did not have to, it’s quite obvious,” His tone is calm, like it always is.

All you can manage to say is, “I messed up…”

“Can you not fix it?” He hums in thought.

Your hands smooth over your knees, “I don’t think so.”

He immediately follows up with, “Have you tried?”

The question makes you feel embarrassed because, “…No, I haven’t.”

“Then how do you know?” You must look pitiful when you look up at him, eyes wet and round from crying. He places a hand atop your head in a soothing way, it’s warm, “Try.”

Voice breaking, you ask, “What if he doesn’t forgive me?”

“You live with the consequences,” He says it easily, like that wouldn’t be the hardest thing to do.

Hesitating, you add, “I don’t know if I can… Liu, I’m scared…”

“Be scared,” he smiles at you, “And do it anyways.”

“It can’t be as easy as you’re making it sound,” you slump down slightly.

His hand moves to your back, “I did not say it would be easy, I said talk to him… even if it is scary and hard.”

You face away from him, feeling emotional, “You’re annoying.”

He doesn’t take your words to heart, “Only because I am right and you know it,” he removes his hand from you and sits beside you on the rock.

Turning back to him, you rest your head on your knees again, “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“You may ask,” he answers, making it clear if he doesn’t like the question he won’t answer.

Watching carefully, you ask him, “Have you ever been in love?”

He looks down, his mind drifting, “I have been, a long time ago now…”

“Was it scary?” You feel small and silly.

“Anything new or grand is scary,” he looks to you, “But it was worth it and I’d do it again.”

You feel compelled to ask for details, “What happened?”

“Far too much, too long ago,” he dismisses.

Wanting more, you press, “Did you get a happy ending?”

“In a way,” he looks solemn but you believe him.

Instead of asking for details, you ask something cliche, “How did you know you were in love? …Did you know you were in love… or did you just think you were?”

“Are they not essentially the same thing?” He looks up and sighs, “Only you will know, it’s not something to be described and it’s different for everyone. There is no one way to love.” He looks at you carefully, “If you are asking me because you think I have some hidden knowledge others don’t, I am sorry to let you down but I think my answer is pretty close to what most people would say.”

“You didn’t let me down… I think you’ve helped me sort some things internally,” you offer him a genuine smile, it’s small but it’s real. Tipping sideways, you lean your head on his shoulder, “Thank you for indulging me.”

He looks up to the stars, “Anytime.”

You think you may have unintentionally gotten him to open up about something he’s not spoken on in a long time and you’re grateful that he did just to answer your silly questions. You wonder if him being able to talk about it helped at all, at the very least, you hope whatever he remembered tonight didn’t hurt too much.

❆˖°

You’ve been given a lot to think about, today has been incredibly overwhelming, the whole week has been but today more so. Both Kenshi and Liu Kang have given you their advice and they both essentially said the same thing, it’s the kind of advice you’d give to anyone in your position – talk to him.

It’s getting late but you leave your room to sneak to the kitchen, just because you haven’t been going to group dinners doesn’t mean you haven’t been eating. You’ve made a habit of lurking in the kitchen after hours to eat whatever you can find; you think Liu noticed pretty early on what you were doing because you’ll frequently find a bowl of whatever they had that night left for you.

The air is cold and you feel stupid, carefully wandering the grounds in your pyjamas and a robe, getting caught wouldn’t really be all that bad, you’d just look like an idiot. The kitchen is warmer though and the indoors welcome you inside, you immediately start looking for something to eat, accidentally knocking into some utensils, the clanging sound startling you, your hands frantically reach out to stop the awful noise.

Bi-Han’s deep voice fills your ears, “Well, at least I know you have been eating.”

It’s late but the chill runs down your spine, you were too busy with the noise you made to notice his presence behind you. You’re stock still, wondering how you’re meant to react, should you apologise now? Should you pretend it’s fine? Like you have no idea what he’s talking about? You feel nervous, heart hammering in your chest, you don’t even know if you can bring yourself to look at him. After everything you feel ashamed, how could you meet his eyes–

He's tired as he sighs out, “Look at me.”

Your eyes stay on the utensils you just ran into, hands limp at you sides, “Uhm… I can’t…”

“Can’t or won’t?” You can hear his frustration growing.

How are you meant to answer that? Pausing awkwardly, you eventually say, “Either? Both?”

He grumbles your name lowly… unhappy with your answer, he moves closer to you, body just to the side of you. You always thought you’d be the kind of person to fight or flee when confronted but instead you’re completely frozen… He’s so close to you, close enough to touch, you’ve missed him so much and now he’s within arm’s reach and you don’t feel like you have the right to touch him.

Before you lose your nerve and all ability to think, you force out, “You’re too close… I can’t… think.”

You wonder what kind of expression he made when you said that, you didn’t mean for it to be unkind. He doesn’t complain though, he silently takes a step away from you. It’s unclear to you if he has nothing to say or if he’s patiently waiting for you to speak first, if you were a gambling man, you’d bet on the latter. Despite his outward behaviours, he usually has something to say.

This is harder than you thought, you haven’t had a chance to think about what exactly you want to say to him. You know you wanted to talk to him the next time you saw him, you just didn’t know it would be so soon. “I thought you were avoiding me.”

He scoffs slightly, “Who’s avoiding whom?”

You thought he had been avoiding you as well but maybe he was giving you space, “What did you come here for?”

He avoids your question with his own, “What else would I come here for, other than you?”

“Bi-Han…”

“I’ve been waiting for you to come to me… In your own time but I’m not a patient man and this is getting annoying.” He hesitates before continuing, “If you don’t feel the same way… then forget I said anything.”

Shaking your head, you cement, “No.”

“No?” His tone is gruff.

You finally look at him, “I don’t want to forget something like that, you were honest and vulnerable… Bi-Han, I don’t want you regretting that.”

His arms are crossed over his chest, his expression unmoving, “Could’ve fooled me–”

“­–I was surprised… I was scared… I don’t know if you’ve noticed this about me but I’m not exactly the best at all of this,” you gesture between the two of you, hoping he understands because you can’t find the right words right now.

He’s frowning, “I didn’t ask you to be the best but when I say something like that, I at least expect something other than ‘thanks for dinner’.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, he adds, “You also didn’t need to avoid me after.”

“I didn’t see you trying especially hard to talk to me afterwards,” this is bad, you’re feeling defensive, you’re not ready for this yet.

“You wouldn’t even spare a glance in my direction…” He sighs, “I thought if I gave you space, you would eventually explain things to me.”

Trying to defend yourself, you say, “I was going to!”

 “When?” His voice raises slightly with his question.

You’re frustrated, he’s surprisingly adept at communicating, you’re feeling more ashamed now… how is he able to better express himself than you. “I don’t like this conversation…”

“And you think I do? You think this is fun for me?” He moves closer again, standing in front of you, you’d forgotten how big he was… “The woman I am in a relationship with has been ignoring me for an entire week after I said I was falling for her and you think I’m having the time of my life? Do you realise how tedious and annoying I find talking about my feelings to be?”

Ah, he’s angry and you can’t even blame him, you think you would be angry with yourself too… in fact, you are.

He takes in and releases a deep breath, “Explain it to me, explain what happened.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden, “I got scared… I wasn’t ready to be confronted with my own feelings. I froze up… and then I didn’t come to you because I didn’t have anything concrete to give you and I felt like you deserved… a real response.”

His eyes close in thought for a second, “You’re the only person here whose company I actually enjoy, I’d rather you be confused and talk to me than be certain and avoiding me.”

“Are you mad?” It’s a question with an obvious answer.

He doesn’t hesitate, “I’m furious.”

Yeah, you expected that much, “I’m sorry…”

He ignores your apology, not really looking for you to be sorry, “Did you find your answer?”

“Huh?”

“To what I said.”

“I did,” you shuffle from side to side, “I was going to talk to you… next time I saw you.”

He doesn’t speak but you can tell he’s telling you that time is now.

The mood doesn’t feel right, how can you tell a man that you’re also falling for him when he’s looking at you all angrily, “Well, I don’t really want to answer now… you’re all angry at me.”

“Woman,” his tone is restrained, trying not to yell at you, “You’re torturing me, you know that right?”

You swear you can see the veins in his neck twitching, like he’s a second away from exploding on the spot, “This doesn’t really… there aren’t really… UGH.” You raise your arms in exasperation, “The vibes aren’t especially romantic right now, Bi-Han.”

“And whose fault is that?” His tone is still firm but he’s growing to be somewhat amused, your clear struggle almost making up for being ignored.

“I feel embarrassed,” you know he knows what you want to say now.

He’s being cruel though, he’s punishing you, “Are you breaking up with me?”

“Of course not!–”

“–Then spit it out,” he interjects.

“Bi-Han,” you’re pouting now, “You already know what I want to say, can’t we leave it at that?”

“Absolutely not.”

He is giving you no mercy, not here, not tonight, not after what you did, “I feel the same as you.”

“Not good enough.”

You’d scowl at him but you’ve not earned that right, “This is hard.”

“I know,” he says.

Looking to him, you add, “I’m scared.”

He repeats, “I know.”

“I’m falling for you, Bi-Han,” as hard as it felt to get the words out, when you’re already saying them, they flow past your lips easily.

He looks a little lost at first, like he’s swimming through countless thoughts and feelings, like he’s not quite sure where he’s going to end up but then his eyes glint mischievously, “Thanks.”

You deflate slightly and mumble out, eyes looking down, “You’re welcome.”

He moves closer to you, sighing, “Ahhh,” he’s right in front of you, you can see his feet in front of your own, “Can I be this close to you, or are you still having a hard time thinking?”

You ignore his question, “Are you still mad?”

He considers, “Somewhat.”

“I’m sorry,” you can’t look up at him, you feel like a crybaby because your eyes are welling with tears, feeling incredibly guilty, “I’m really sorry, Bi-Han.”

“Shhh,” He hushes, his hand reaching out and resting on the back of your head, he pulls you forward so you’re leaning on his chest, “I know you are.”

“I don’t want to break up, I missed you a lot,” you don’t wrap your arms around him even though you really want to.

He steps closer again, his arms coming around you fully while yours hang limply at your sides, “Mmm,” he hums in understanding, “We aren’t breaking up, don’t cry over something like that.”

“You’re still mad though,” you sniffle.

“Yeah, I am…” he leans down, his head coming to the side of yours, nuzzling you slightly, “But I get to be, you went off and got all caught up in your own head, left me here worrying about you,” his lips brush against your cheekbone, “So, I’m going to be a little mad while I hold you close and tell you how much I like you.”

He kisses your cheek before moving his head and resting his chin against the top of yours, just holding you like this. “Hug me back or I’m gonna get mad again,” he might be joking but he also might not be.

Your arms wrap around him, tugging him closer, missing him so much. Being able to touch him, having him touch you, it’s making you dizzy, “I missed you a lot.”

He huffs, “You put me through it you know? Didn’t know if you were eating properly… didn’t know if you…” He grunts, “Didn’t know if you still wanted me…”

“I’m–”

“–Don’t apologise again, that’s not what I want… just want you to know that this was awful,” his lips move beside your ear, “Don’t do this to me again, not over something like this.” He pulls back so he can look you in the eyes, free arm still holding you to him, “Next time, talk to me properly.”

The irony is not lost on you, how you had wanted him to talk to you about his feelings properly, only to be unable to do the same. It feels ridiculous, you feel ridiculous and it’s frustrating you.  

You start before trailing off, “Bi-Han…”

He groans, “…If you’re going to apologise again, I don’t want to hear it.”

Pushing on, you insist, “But I am sorry, I just… sometimes I need time to process things and–”

“–Be quiet now.” He cuts you off, he doesn’t need some grand explanation from you, he understands what happened. He had opened his confession for the depth of his feelings by telling you he was frightened, he gets it.

Sulking, you complain, “I feel silly…”

“You are…” He leans in closer to you, “…But I still like you so it’s okay,” he murmurs, his lips brushing yours.

It feels like your skin is on fire, his proximity to you feels brand new. His lips grazing yours is electric, you want him to kiss you so badly but you don’t move, not willing to mess it up. He’s managed to fully distract you from the comment he made, snarking back at him not even a passing thought in your head, the only thing you want is for him to kiss you.

Bi-Han can’t help the small and amused smile on his lips at how you look incredibly desperate for him to do something as simple as kiss you. He considers not kissing you, just for moment, just to see the way your face would fall and how you’d pout all pathetically at him. But like he said, he’s not a patient man and he has missed you.

Closing the almost non-existent gap, he kisses you fully, his lips on yours reverent, he really had missed you. He pulls back too soon for your liking, if the sad whine you let out is anything to go off of. The sound you make has him almost caving but he thinks that punishing you by depriving you of physical contact will result in you doing something much more interesting.

“You should eat something,” he breathes against you.

Ignoring him, you move in to press your lips onto his again, he’s so close, but he’s a dick and he moves back at the last second. It feels taunting, cruel, you hate this about him, mostly you hate that you like this about him.

Why is he choosing now to be mean? “Didn’t you miss kissing me?”

He huffs, “Oh, that’s a harsh thing to say, of course I did.”

Exasperated, you complain, “Then­–”

Raising a single brow at you he encourages you to keep going, but you stop. You aren’t even really sure what you want to say, plus you feel a little at a disadvantage with your usual back and forth. You normally are but especially right now.

He shakes his head slightly, “No, go on, finish what you were saying.” You stand silently in front of him and he continues, “Feeling guilty?”

“A little…” It’s not lost on you how he’s not used the pet name he has for you a single time tonight.

“Don’t,” he’s moving in close and planting a full kiss on your mouth before you can fully register it. He doesn’t linger for long, his lips on yours for a mere moment before he’s pulling away and walking through the kitchen.

You’re stood stunned, stuck to your spot, mind reeling over his kiss. How he manages to kiss you in a way that affects you so deeply, even when it’s just a fleeting moment, you have no idea.

His words from behind you catch your attention, “You hungry or not?”

“Yes,” Control of your body comes back to you as your brain reboots at his question.

Bi-Han complains to himself mostly, voice unimpressed, “Dinner wasn’t that good tonight…”

You laugh a little, “Whatever was left is fine.”

Grumbling slightly, he reheats your food for you and doesn’t leave while you eat, you have a feeling his reluctance to leave your side is due heavily to you avoiding him for as long as you did and you feel really bad about it. You wonder if this overwhelming guilt will ever leave you, looking at him and how doting he is on you even after you were an asshole makes your chest squeeze.

After you’ve eaten, he walks you back to your room, his side brushing yours the whole way back. He’s so close to you and you want to hold his hand but you’re not sure you’re allowed to. It’s dumb, holding his hand would’ve been something you’d do without any hesitation previously but now everything you want to do has you thinking hard about whether or not you’re allowed to.

In the end, he grabs your hand himself, frustrated with how you kept glancing down at his. He was wondering how long it would take for you to reach out to him but as your room was getting closer and closer, he was growing more and more annoyed with how you had yet to even try and move your hand to his.

Your hand feels cold even to him, “Why are you out in so little?”

Shrugging, you answer, “I was only going to eat quickly and rush back to my room…”

His tone is unamused, “You need to wear more at night.”

“Noted,” your reply is unconcerned, you feel fine, a little chilly but it’s not like it’s going to kill you.

At your door, you aren’t sure what you expected but it certainly wasn’t him refusing to come inside. You had walked into the room easily, tugging him behind you mindlessly, only to be met with resistance. He’d pulled back slightly, not moving from the threshold.

Now, his large frame stands in front of you, imposing. Face unreadable, you have no way of knowing what he’s thinking, you liked to think you had gotten pretty good at understanding him but right now, you’re at a complete and utter lost.

Feeling sheepish, you stumble over your words, embarrassed, “Oh… sorry, I don’t know why I assumed… you would want to come inside…”

He still doesn’t make any obvious show of emotion, “I do.”

Your expression shifts to one of confusion, “Come inside then?”

“I can’t.”

What is wrong with him? “I’m not understanding.”

“You should go to bed,” he pulls you to him, “I’ll see you tomorrow…” His voice is low as he hold you close, his lips pressing to yours softly, a goodnight kiss.

You sigh into him, “Bi-Han…”

“Good night,” his hands leave you.

You repeat his words, though it comes out more like a question, “…Good night?”

He walks off in the direction you came, trailing back to his own room. He was always somewhat of an odd character but this was an absurd interaction. Flopping into bed, you get comfortable under the covers and drift. Sleeping okay for the first time in a while, mood feeling slightly better after being able to see and talk to him.

❆˖°

The room is cold and it’s early in the morning, you can’t bring yourself to even try and leave the warmth of your covers. Someone will come for you if you don’t get up soon but you’re so warm and so comfy and it’s hard getting up in the morning, especially lately.

Memories of last night and talking to Bi-Han are swarming your mind, it’s too early to think about it all. He didn’t say he forgave you, he seemed like he was okay but the idea of him never really forgiving you hurts you deeply. He said he was still somewhat mad… what does that even mean? How do you make it up to him? Does he just need time?

There are so many questions you still have and you would’ve asked them last night if you hadn’t gotten distracted by how guilty you felt. You want to see Bi-Han again but you’re so unsure of yourself and how you should behave with him. He didn’t hesitate to reach out to you but every time you want to reach for him, you hesitate and it’s making you restless.

An abrupt knock on the door startles you but you tuck back in under your covers and pretend to still be asleep, not wanting to get up yet. They seem to wait a moment before a few more knocks tap at your door, a bit more forceful this time. You consider getting up and letting them in this time but you ultimately can’t bring yourself to get up and your head ends up under the covers as well.

The door sliding open surprises you, having thought they would just walk away when you didn’t reply. Other than the door opening and closing, it’s silent, you can’t even hear their footsteps on the floorboards. Are they even walking into the room? You’re confused but you keep your head tucked under the covers.

A few moments go by in the quiet room and if you couldn’t feel an overwhelming presence, you’d assume they had just looked in for a moment before leaving. You don’t know what you should do next, revealing yourself just proves you were awake the whole time and you’re unwilling to give up that easy.

While considering your next move, Bi-Han’s voice cuts through the quiet, “You and I both know you’re awake under there.”

You don’t speak and you certainly don’t move, you aren’t really quite sure why you don’t just get up but enough time has gone by now that you’re a little embarrassed and the longer you wait to get up the more stupid it all feels, so you think it might just be best if you stay under the blanket.

His voice comes again, unamused, “Are you really going to make me pull you out of the bed by your ankles?” Impatient taps of his foot hitting the floor reach your ears, the only sound you’ve heard from him other than his words.

Now, if you were smart and not just coming out of sleep, you’d recognise this as the threat it is but for some reason you had assumed he was only joking… something Bi-Han doesn’t do often. In one swift moment, the blanket is ripped from you and you are abruptly pulled halfway down the bed by your ankles. A small, shocked sound leaves you at the speed of which it all happens, the cold tickling your skin in a way that would have you complaining if you weren’t distracted.

Still, you make no move to roll over and give away that you are awake, and again, you have no idea why you’re committing to this so hard. Bi-Han grunts at you, “There is no way you’re asleep after that.” You don’t hear him but you feel his hand on your hip, “And don’t think I didn’t hear you just now.” The hand he has on you flips you onto your back easily.

He’s standing back and looking down at you, exasperated look on his face, his eyes boring into yours, he’s at a complete loss for why you did all this. Smiling sheepishly, you chirp up at him, “Good morning…”

He continues to look at you, sighing slightly. He looks good from this angle, the way he’s looking down at you, his chest, your thoughts are quickly heading in a suggestive direction.

The cold reminds you of its presence, pursing your lips, you ask him, “…Could I have my blanket back?”

His reply is monosyllabic, “No.”

“Well, that’s just not nice.” You go to lean up while grumbling about his unkindness but he pushes you back down, “Hey! What was that for? You’re the one who wanted me to get up.”

His head tilts to the side, “Yes but now I can’t help but enjoy this view.”

Raising a brow, you ask, “So, am I just meant to lay here while you get an eyeful?”

“Yes.”

You huff slightly as you move to get up again, “Bi-Han, don’t be…” your words trail off as he leans down at the same time as you get up, his face in front of your own.

He moves in more, asking, “‘Don’t be’ what?”

You can’t help but stumble over your words as you look up at him, “I… uhh… I don’t… know…”

He hums at you, amused, his eyes flick to your lips and for a brief moment you think he might kiss you. His lips close to yours “You need to get up,” he says it as he pulls away which makes you deflate.

You go to flop back onto the bed but he grabs both your arms and pulls you up until you’re standing on your feet, he sighs at you, “You really made me pull you out of bed.”

“Let me get back in it,” you struggle against his grip.

“Stop being dramatic,” he doesn’t let you go, knowing your first move would be to grab your blanket and curl back up in bed.

Lamenting, you whinge, “Why are you the one who had to come get me.”

“Oh?” he gives you a look, “Would you prefer someone else come get you?”

“No…” you deny, before adding “…But if I did… maybe someone who would be nicer to me…”

“Hmmm,” he considers you for a moment more, moving in closer to eye you carefully, “That’s too bad,” he murmurs before planting a soft, single kiss on your lips, “Since it’s just me who’s willing to enter your room this early,” his lips brush against yours with his words.

You want him to kiss you again but he doesn’t, “Now get ready for the day,” he pulls away completely and pats your head once, “And don’t get back in bed.” Then he walks away and out the door.

Today sucks, you don’t want to train, you don’t want to meditate, you don’t want to talk to people, you want to lay in bed and be warm and dramatic. Things have been stressful lately and you haven’t had time to just stop. Every day is the same thing and it’s exhausting, plus your brain is like mush at the moment.

This thing with Bi-Han… what happens after all of this? What are you expecting to happen… See? This is why you just want to get back into bed, none of your thoughts lately have been particularly inviting. You don’t want to think.

❆˖°

They fucking sidelined you, you were right, today sucks. You didn’t want to think… so, you didn’t. Instead going all in on training, focusing on nothing but pushing yourself and you guess, you freaked everyone out and got told to sit out for a bit.

Watching is boring and maybe you’re pouting as you watch the guys spar and maybe you’re sighing loudly every few minutes so they can hear you. If you weren’t an adult you’d maybe kick your feet about it all, you’ve been restless and not wanting to think and you get sidelined, now?

Honestly, you’re surprised they didn’t sideline you before yesterday, though you were just sucking then, now you seem like an insane person. This is worse than when you sprained your ankle, at least you couldn’t spar then, you can now and you’re still forced to just sit here and watch.

As you let out another melodramatic sigh, Johnny groans back at you with as much energy, exasperated by you, “What is wrong with you today?”

“Nothing,” you bristle, not appreciating the way he phrased that question.

“Yeah, that’s why you were on the verge of actually training yourself to death,” he leaves Kenshi and flops down onto his ass beside you, “Spill.”

Kenshi stands in front of you both, looking down at you with a single raised brow, you know what he’s asking.

Johnny verbalises what Kenshi was silently asking though, “You and Bi-Han make up yet?”

You side eye him, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Come on, everyone knows you two are on the outs, hell, you stopped coming to group meals,” Johnny doesn’t even let you try and lie, clearly not interested in hearing what you’d come up with.

Grimacing, you note, “You’re all too interested in my personal life.”

Johnny shrugs, “Your own fault, you’re sleeping with the scariest brother and you also let your feelings overwhelm your actions.”

“Have more sympathy, Cage,” Kenshi kicks Johnny’s foot.

Johnny scoffs, “Don’t kick me.”

You interrupt before their argument can get too out of hand, “Okay, well you two have been very helpful, you can leave me alone now.”

“Hey, I am trying to help,” Johnny places his hand on your shoulder.

You place your hand over his, “You really wanna help?” He nods at you, and you continue, “Let me train.”

Both Kenshi and Johnny answer simultaneously, “No.” Look at that, they both agreed on something.

You groan loudly and dramatically, head tipping back with it, very unhappy. How are you meant to go through today if you can’t distract yourself? It gets a boring around here. A shadow looms over you as your head is tipped back and when you squint your eyes open, you see it’s Bi-Han.

Looking down at you, he asks, “What’s wrong with you?”

“They won’t let me train,” you immediately accuse.

He glances at Johnny and Kenshi and Johnny pokes your side, unhappy, “Nobody likes a snitch.” He looks at Bi-Han, “It’s for her own good, she was gonna hurt herself.”

Leaning over to Johnny, you repeat his words, “Nobody likes a snitch.” Ultimately though, you get up and face Bi-Han.

His expression is unreadable, his tone even, “Come with me.” It’s all he says before he’s walking off, expecting you to follow him.

You glance back at the guys, blaming them with your eyes. Johnny raises his arms in defence, “Your own fault.”

First, you flip him off before jogging to keep up with Bi-Han. He leads you to a private area of the grounds, you have a feeling you know what he’s going to say.

He turns back to you, his eyes looking you over carefully, “Are you okay?”

Okay… not quite what you were expecting. You were expecting him to scold you about taking care of yourself or something, not check in on you. “I’m fine,” you shrug dismissively.

His expression displays his doubt, knowing better, “You didn’t even want to get out of bed this morning and now you’re training so hard you’re worrying your friends. Something is wrong.”

“I’m just…” you sigh, annoyed with yourself, “I’m just having a bad day Bi-Han… I have so many questions I want to ask you, I have so many concerns over the future, I have so many thoughts and feelings and they’re frustrating me all, so I just wanted to… not think… for a little bit.”

He doesn’t move, “Ask.”

“What?”

He clarifies, “Ask your questions, I will do my best to answer and that should help, right?”

You intake a deep breath and begin asking your questions, “When you said you’re somewhat mad, how mad? Do you need time? Should I try and make it up to you? If so, how do I do that? Also, am I allowed to touch you? Or do I have to ask first? Are you going to resent me later? After everything here is finished and things go back to normal… are we just not going to see each other anymore? Would–”

“–Calm down.” His hands reach out to you, one soothes over your head, the other pulling you towards him, “You’re working yourself up,” he observes, forehead resting against yours, “Take some deep breaths.”

You listen to him and try to calm your breathing, not realising how worked up you had got yourself. Your rapid-fire questions making you anxious and fidgety.

“Now,” he pulls his head back but grabs hold of your hand, letting you know he’s still nearby, “I am still somewhat mad because it’s still fresh but I don’t resent you and I’m not going to. You don’t have to do anything to make it up to me and I don’t need time. I’ve had enough time; I just want you.”

You’re still trying to calm down, heart pounding in your chest though you have a feeling that’s starting to have more to do with him answering your questions. He continues replying to what he remembers, “You don’t have to ask to touch me, though watching you struggle has been mildly amusing.”

You scowl at him for that and he smiles tenderly at it, his hand moving to cradle your face. Opening your mouth, you go to scold him but he shushes you, “Quiet, I’m not done answering yet.”

He continues, “I don’t know what normal is to you, but this is not abnormal to me, I don’t know what will happen and nothing is guaranteed.” It’s not lost on you that those last few words are your own mirrored back at you, “But don’t be ridiculous, of course we’re still going to see each other, sweet girl.”

And maybe it’s his assurances or maybe it’s the fact he finally used that term of endearment on you again but your eyes well with tears and you tuck your head into his chest. Seeking comfort in his embrace, not for the first time and certainly not for the last either. He holds you close to him, to his heart, feeling more like himself than he has in a while.

He holds you until you stop crying, his hands soothing over you. When you’ve finally calmed down, you reach up and pull his face to yours, kissing him gently, lips brushing his, “Will you stay with me tonight… please?”

He laughs airily against you, “How can I say no to that?”

He can feel the way you smile before you pull back, “Good.” You linger a moment more, “I should get back… but, thank you… for being patient.”

You jog back off towards where you were training, feeling a touch lighter. Maybe things are still a little uncertain and maybe you’re still a little scared about how much you’re feeling but you’re not alone and remembering that helps.

❆˖°

Waiting is hard, it shouldn’t be, in fact most people would probably find waiting easy but it’s frustrating to you. While waiting for Bi-Han, you have tidied your room and made your bed, you had left it this morning. Now you’re just stuck waiting for Bi-Han to come by but this is getting old fast, you can’t relax enough to read or do any other kind of activity to distract yourself. So, you do the most reasonable thing… and put on your robe and leave your room to wander around aimlessly.

You don’t get very far before spotting Bi-Han while you’re out, he gives you a look that lets you know you’ve been caught but you turn tail and run back for your room in hopes you can get there before him and play it off like it wasn’t you he just saw.

When you’re back in your room, you grab the book off your nightstand and sit on the bed, trying to look as casual as possible. Opening the book to the place you left off; you pretend to be very interested in what’s happening. You jump when Bi-Han slides your room door open and closed behind him but you don’t look to him.

He’s stoic, still, arms crossed and waiting for you to acknowledge him. You pretend to finish your page and flick to the next, he lets out an amused exhale through his nose and takes the book from you.

“I was reading that,” you complain.

He takes your bookmark from you as well and places it inside the book, but not before flicking back a page, “Maybe… but not just now you weren’t.” He puts the book down on the table.

Frowning, you lie, “Yeah I was.”

“Really,” he raises a brow at you, “Then who was the sexy, little thing I saw running around outside in your robe?” He looks pointedly at the robe you didn’t take off before getting on the bed.

You squint at him, “I think it’s messed up that you would ask me that.”

“So, it wasn’t you? Should I go and try and find out who that was then?” His thumb points back over his shoulder, gesturing at the outside.

Grumbling, you admit all too easily, “It was me.”

“Obviously,” he rolls his eyes, “What did I tell you about going out in so little?”

You look upwards in thought, “Uhh… that it’s a great idea and I should do it more to embrace the beauty of the cold?”

“I remember saying something entirely different,” he hums, “Something more along the lines of – don’t do it.”

“Our signals must’ve gotten crossed, it happens,” you shake your head.

His hands flick at you, asking to give him room. “I’m so sure,” he mumbles as you move over to make space for him, “What were you even going out for?” He asks as he sits down beside you.

You sit up properly and face him, “I was bored of waiting… was gonna wander around for a bit.”

His back is resting on the headboard, arms forever crossed, “And your plan if you ran into me was to run away? Even though you knew I was staying with you tonight.”

Rubbing at the back of your head, you give a flimsy excuse, “Okay well, I wasn’t really sure when to expect you and I feel like I waited a respectable amount of time before… wandering.”

He scratches at the side of his cheek, “You’re not very capable of just sitting still.”

“I am too,” you pout at him.

Shaking his head, he says, “I wasn’t asking, I was making an observation.”

You only frown at him in response.

He sighs at you, “Ah, don’t sulk about it–”

“–I sit still for hours at a time meditating,” you remind. “I can sit still.”

“Then next time, just wait for me.” His hands reach out for you, “Instead of walking around in the cold.”

You let yourself be pulled into him, falling easily against his chest. “Next time, you should be quicker,” your words are mumbled against him. Both your hands press against his chest to push yourself back, “I feel weird Bi-Han.”

He hums at you in acknowledgement, “Weird how?”

“I can’t help but still feel a little unsure of us now…” Your eyebrows must be scrunching because he does the same move to you that you do to him and smooths between them with his thumb, “…I think it might be guilt.”

“I don’t want you to feel guilty,” he looks you over carefully, “I want you to be the same as you always are. Stubborn and sure.”

You chuckle, “That’s what you think of me?”

“I think many things of you, I very seldom am not thinking something of you,” his hand cups your cheek, “I think you are brilliant and I want to be witness to it,” his thumb brushes over your lip, “So, stop feeling guilty, I can’t witness your brilliance if you’re hiding it from me.”

He manoeuvres you to straddle him properly and then kisses you deeply, his tongue licking into your mouth. His hand angling you so he can kiss you how he likes, it’s hot and messy, and you’re getting lost in it. When he separates the kiss, he trails his lips down your cheek, to your neck, kissing and nibbling at your skin.

He speaks against you, voice low, “Conversely, I could always fuck the guilt out of you.”

You gasp at his words, not entirely expecting them, “Not sure that would work.”

“I could always try,” he latches onto your neck, where it meets your shoulder and sucks hard. Leaving a dark mark behind, “Shouldn’t have avoided me for so long, all my marks have faded.”

Huffing, your hands reach for his shoulders, fisting his clothing, “You can’t possibly expect me to always be covered in hickeys.”

He questions, “No?”

“No,” you confirm, head slipping back, offering him more room to work.

His voice vibrates through your skin, “Maybe you shouldn’t be so willing to receive them then.”

“M-maybe you’re right,” your words falter when he nips at a particularly tender part of your neck, knowing you too well.

His hands slip under your shirt, caressing your skin, big hands splayed under your breasts, resting on your ribcage. He’s kissing you again, desperately, properly, no longer interested in teasing you with fleeting and soft kisses. He wants it all and he wants it now.

Your tongue meets his and your heart stutters in your chest, he groans against you when you grind down into him. Mind half gone and attention on his mouth, on his hands, barely registering your own movements.

His hands on you round to your back, tugging you into him, your chest meeting his. Your arms loop around his neck, holding him close, your breaths huffed and lips rushed on his. Your lips part and he holds you as he moves up, laying you gently against the mattress and hovering over you, your heads at the wrong end of the bed.

Untangling from you, he grabs at your hips and pulls your pants and underwear off in one motion. They’re chucked unceremoniously on the floor somewhere, not of any concern to you or Bi-Han. Right now, Bi-Han looks beautiful like this, eyes glazing slightly, focused on a million things at once but arriving at the same conclusion.

He’s back at your neck and trailing down, shoving your shirt up your body, lips moving to your exposed skin and continuing his descent. It’s making you nervous, “Bi-Han, you don’t have to…”

His forehead rests on your ribcage, stopping at your hesitance, “‘I don’t have to’, what?” When you don’t respond to him, he pulls back to look you in the eyes, “I’ve not had you in a week and now you’re telling me I don’t have to put my mouth on you? This isn’t just for you, sweet girl.”

You feel shy, “I just thought…”

He’s not entertaining your line of thinking, telling you like it is, “You thought wrong.” He leans back into your skin, kissing you softly, continuing downwards, “Can I lick your pussy now? Or are you going to make me say please.”

God, you bristle at his words, his deep voice, it’s making your pulse thump deliciously, “Ahh,” you can’t stop the gasp you let out when he kisses the top of your thigh, “A p-please would be nice.”

His stupid eyebrow raises at you, “Would it now?”

“Mhm,” you nod your head warily.

He clicks his tongue, “You want me to beg to taste you, to put my mouth on you?”

He’s flustering you, he’s so close to your cunt, he could lean in and easily put his mouth on you like this and you wouldn’t even be mad.

Before you can reply, he speaks again, “Please let me tongue fuck you.” His words are gruff, unamused.

You’re so shocked, all you can manage is a meek, “Okay.”

“Hope you know, you’ll be paying for that later…” You don’t even really register his threat because he immediately follows it up with, “Look at you,” his thumb swipes through your folds, collecting your slick and spreading it even more, “All worked up, you like when I ask please, when I’m nice?”

“Bi-Han,” your stomach does flips when he rests the pad of his thumb against your clit.

“Missed this sight,” he ignores the call of his name, distracted by how wet you are for him, how you clench pathetically around nothing.

You go to call out to him again, get him to move his thumb, touch you properly, something but he’s beaten you to the punch and is licking up the length of your cunt. The moan you let out is not one you expected and your hand moves to cover your mouth, the sound shocking you. It was far too desperate for how little he’s touched you. He hums appreciatively though, relishing in the sound made.

If he were willing to part from you, he’d tell you to move that fucking hand but his mouth is somewhat indisposed at the moment. He can manage however, a sharp glare at you and your hand, a wordless interaction you understand, uncovering your mouth tentatively, like you’re scared you might make that same noise again.

It’s wet and sloppy and he’s making an obscene mess of you, his mouth moving from sucking on your clit to fucking his tongue inside you. Taking his time to practically make out with your cunt, leaning into it more so his nose rubs against your clit. Your back arches off the bed and your thighs try to close around his head.

Surprisingly, he lets you, his hands hold the outside of your thighs, resting there. His face pushing down to continue to get at you like this but he lets you smother him with your thighs. He moves his thumbs to keep your folds parted, needing more access. The obscene clicking noises of his tongue in your slick pussy would make the devil blush.

The moans and whimpers you’re letting out are no better, fingers scrabbling to find purchase somewhere. Settling for the sheets in the end, not wanting to move Bi-Han, not when he’s hitting all the right places, you’re getting close embarrassingly quick.

Something he’s completely aware of, not stopping for a moment, he’s feasting on you like he might never again and after this week he’d say that was a genuine concern for a moment. As much as he loves having your thighs either side his head, he really needs better access. His hands force your legs apart again, pinning them apart and up.

The sound you let out is wrecked and he can’t help but groan alongside it, enjoying your reactions immensely. Some things never change and one of those things seems to be just how fucking reactive you are to him. Always so sensitive, so easy to rile up, so messy. If he weren’t slurping at your cunt he’d definitely say something about it to you.

Two of his fingers prod at your entrance, slipping inside you carefully, stretching you open. The way your pussy greedily sucks his fingers in has him moaning brokenly into you, muffled. If he were a weaker man, this might kill him. He can feel the way you’re pulsing around his fingers, your hips frantically trying to rut down against him, getting close.

Nails claw at the sheets, you’re not sure if you want to rut down into him and chase your high or pull away. Feeling completely overwhelmed by everything he’s doing right now. His lips suck at your clit, his fingers large inside you, curling just right. Your stomach flips and your cunt clenches down on him.

It startles you, how quickly you cum, you hadn’t even realised it until it was too late, not able to give a warning. The only sign given is the harsh grip your pussy has on his fingers and your moan as your thighs shake. Cum leaking from you and coating Bi-Han’s fingers, he doesn’t let up. Fucking you through your high, flicking at your clit just to watch you twitch.

It’s too much, you whine and try to wiggle away from him, that’s when he relents. Slipping his fingers from you and into his mouth, sucking them clean before wiping them on your inner thigh. He plants sloppy kisses up your body, stopping and hovering at your cheek, your head turned to the side.

You feel lazy when you pull your head back to face him, eyes wet and unfocused, completely docile for him after only one orgasm. He huffs an amused breath against your lips, “You good, sweetie? Or–”

“–Mhm, I’m good, I can keep going… I can take it.”

“I know you can,” he presses a light kiss to your temple, “Take this off,” he pulls at your shirt and robe.

He leaves you on the bed. Absently, you can hear him rustling just to the side of you and you’d stare at him shamelessly if undressing completely didn’t require your full attention right now. You shirk your robe off your shoulders and toss it somewhere, your shirt promptly follows, though embarrassingly, it’s harder to get off.

You flop back onto your spot on the bed, the thought to move so you’re on the bed the right way crosses in the back of your mind but you don’t really see the point. The bed dips with Bi-Han’s weight and your hands instinctually reach out for him.

He lets you pull him down into you, your legs wrapping around his waist to tug all of him close, he breathes against your neck when you’ve successfully got him pressed up against you completely.

“You just want to cuddle?” He’s being genuine, nosing at the high point of your cheek.

You make a noise of disagreement, “Just want you close.”

His words are crude, “So, I can stick my dick inside you?”

You whine at him, “Is there not a nicer way to say that?”

“I’ve found,” he presses his hips into you so his cock spreads your folds, grinding into you, getting his dick wet, “It’s quicker to be straightforward.”

Your mouth drops open when he grazes your sensitive clit, “You –hah– You sure you don’t just like embarrassing me?”

Humming, he muses, “I won’t lie, that’s a big bonus.”

“Can –ngh– you just–” You’re cut off by a sharp gasp, lungs shuddering at the glide of his heavy cock against your cunt.

“Mmm?” He’s teasing, “I’m sure I could but you need to use your words.”

Your head tips slightly, feeling like a moan is going to leave you at any second, “Bi-Han, fffuck me, please.”

“Yeah, yeah I can do that,” his tone is full of humour.

Parting from you, he puts enough space between you to guide his cock to your entrance. Careful as he begins pushing into you, the stretch makes you hiss through your teeth. He’s somehow bigger than you remember, he’s going to split you in half.

“Breathe,” his voice reminds, “You’ve taken it before.”

You let go of the breath you didn’t realise you were holding, focusing on relaxing for him, “I don’t –hah– I forgot howw big–” He slides into you more while you’re talking and your sentence is cut off with a moan.

“Only a week and you’re already forgetting how well you take me?” He’s starting to sound strained, “Feel a little offended.”

“Just,” the stretch is less painful and more delicious, he’s filling you so well and you need, “More, Bi-Han.”

He’s taking it slow, always so careful, “Changed your tune pretty quick there.”

“Don’t –mmph– don’t tease,” you whinge.

He groans as he sinks deeper, “But you look so –hah– cute when I do.”

You feel full, the pressure increasing, tip of his cock grazing all the right spots. You feel like you could melt into the mattress, your legs are tangled at the bottom of his back and you use them to tug him down to you. He falters and almost falls onto you, hand coming out to balance his weight above you.

“You want it that –mph– fuckin bad?” His words are bitten back, “Take it then,” he grunts before slamming the rest of his dick inside you all at once.

Oh, how your eyes roll, choked noise clawing up your throat at the sudden feeling of having every inch of him weighing heavy inside you. Reaching up, your nails claw desperately at his back.

“Oh my– oh– ah– I can’t– ffffuck,” you’re not making sense, not really, overwhelmed by how good it feels, how deep he sits.

He chuckles darkly at your state, staying still for a moment, giving you a second to just feel all of him. And then, when he thinks you’re adjusting and coming to some sense of normalcy, he draws back and fucks his cock back inside you. The shift has more stupid series of words slipping from you, which he finds as amusing and endearing as he did the first time he managed to reduce you to this state.

He leans down into you again, acquiescing when your hands keep pulling and tugging at him, wanting to feel his skin on yours. He’s so large and so safe and feels so–

His hips are slow, slow for him anyways, thrusts even and measured but not relentlessly fucking you into the mattress. There is a weight behind them though, the kind that has pressure sitting heavy in your lungs. Every time he bottoms out, you can’t help the pitiful sounds you make, you tuck your head into his neck, hoping to hide from the noises you’re making but they don’t go anywhere.

If anything, this is worse, Bi-Han’s lips are right at your ear, brushing the shell of it, “You hear that?” He asks, pausing so you can hear the lewd, sloppy noises your pussy makes as he fucks into you, “The wet fucking sounds of you taking me so well.”

You’re so embarrassed, “Bi-Han–”

A particularly harsh thrust cuts off what would’ve been a complaint and turns it into a weak moan, the pace he set is maddening, “I’m being gentle with you, sweetie, what you wanted.”

Is it what you wanted? Did you ask for gentle, you think distantly you remember a conversation about him being gentle with you but you’re pretty sure you had said you didn’t want that in fear of this very situation. He’s being ‘gentle’ but he’s getting you so close to the edge and just – not pushing you off it, holding you there. It’s torture, it’s punishment, he’s mad at you, you could swear by it.

You ask as much, “Ah– are you mad at mme?”

“How could I be mad when you feel this good?” He grinds down into you, as if to emphasise his point.

You’re a dream to him, fucked and whimpering, tight as sin, and stumbling over yourself to say something only to end up calling his name and worthless pleas. He’ll give you what you want, when he’s ready. For now, he’s going to tease you and hold you right on the edge of finishing before taking it away from you. Maybe because he’s mean, maybe because he likes the glassy look in your eyes that makes it look like you might cry.

His hips speed up slightly and it’s just what you need, getting so so close to cumming. You’re clinging to him for dear life but just when you think you might get to cum, he pins you to the bed with his hips, stilling inside you. He can feel the way you throb around him, so close for him before he ripped it away from you.

You try grinding up into him, “Why– Why– Why stop?”

He looks you in the eyes, hand soft on your cheek, tilting you to look at him properly, your eyes are so out of focus, “Wanted to see your reaction.”

“Please.”

He knows what you want but he asks anyway, “Please, what?”

“Please, fuck me,” you were so close, so close.

“I am,” he reminds, hips pulling back to fuck into you again.

You bite back a moan as best as you can, “Ah– Then– then don’t stoppp –mmph–”

“Maybe,” he makes no promises, pressing a kiss to your lips.

The pace drags, every inch of him, pulled from you slowly, before he’s shoving himself right back inside your wet heat. It takes an amazing amount of control on Bi-Han’s behalf, to fuck you like this, torturing you. Building up your orgasm slowly, crafting it carefully.

Mostly, he’s just lost, lost in your pussy, maybe he’s pussy drunk, but then if he were, would he be holding onto this much control still? In love with how you grip him, with how you twitch and spasm and whine and claw at him but not enough to fuck you into the mattress with reckless abandon.

He’s so cruel, just so mean, oh but when he gets you this close to cumming again he doesn’t feel mean, he feels good and nice and you just need him to not stop, “Bi-Han, please, I–” “–Already?” He hums but his hips stop again, pinning you again, taking away your high again.

“No no no nonono,” you squirm slightly, “You said you wouldn’t stop again,” you’re looking at him through your lashes, they’re wet, have you been crying?

He shakes his head, denying it, “I said maybe.”

“Bi-Han, this time, please, you need to let me cum,” you’re looking at him so seriously.

He nods his head this time, as if understanding suddenly, “Oh, I need to, well why didn’t you say so?”

You pout at him, “I will do anything, please.”

He asks, “Anything?” You nod vehemently at him and he leans closer to you, “All you need to do is take it.”

You want to tell him how mean he is, how unkind he’s being but you don’t want to motivate him to be any meaner to you, “I might die.”

“Hmm, interesting, let’s see,” and then he’s drawing back and setting that same maddening rhythm again, the one that makes your skin itch and your pussy ache.

He does this to you, a handful of times more, getting you close to the edge, dragging you there slowly, meticulously, only to stop and let you twitch and squirm and cry under him. Every time you beg him to just let you cum, let you finish, but he’s taking sick pleasure in how fucked out and pathetic you’re getting.

All gooey eyed and messy for him, fuck so messy, he tells you as much, “Making such a wet mess, sweet girl, listen to that,” he pauses his word and fucks into you quickly just so you can hear how your cunt squelches around him and you’re going to pass out.

You’re only really capable of broken syllables of his name and weak whimpers, you’re getting close again but you’re so sure he’s going to stop, you’re ready for him to stop. He doesn’t, he picks up speed, fucking you quicker, harder, the obscene noises of him fucking you almost drowning out your moans.

He groans at how impossibly tight you get, he’s not going to stop, not this time, not when he’s so fucking close too. Getting sick of this game, he’s got the patience to play with you for long enough that you’ll go crazy but after that all bets are off.

Your back arches up into him and your nails scratch at his biceps and down his back, your head tucking back into his neck. You’re clenching down on him so tight, pressure in your stomach tightening, and a particularly sharp thrust where his pelvis hits your clit just right has you cumming apart under him, around him.

You’re trying to milk his cock and it’s setting his skin on fire; he bites into your neck as he cums at the same time as you. Not able to hold back his noises but able to at least muffle them into your skin. You’re shuddering under him, panting harshly, pussy jumping around his dick.

He’s cum so much it leaks out around the base of him and down from where he’s still seated deep inside you. He detaches from your neck and lathes over the bite mark he left behind with his tongue, feeling bad for how prominent it’s going to be. Though, not feeling all that bad about how long it will linger for.

“Thank you, thank you,” you’re murmuring it over and over into his skin and he doesn’t know if you realise it or not. He presses kisses to your lips, stopping you from talking.

You could almost swear that you’re not in your body, you’re floating somewhere above it, feeling like you came so hard you might’ve blacked out for a couple seconds. Suddenly, you’re spinning, Bi-Han has flipped you both so he’s on his back and you’re on top of him.

Neither of you are willing to move for the moment, so you just lay pressed up again him, relishing in the skin-to-skin contact. Always enjoying when he’s this close to you, you’re not even sure you’re capable of a coherent thought right now that doesn’t start and end with Bi-Han.

Eventually, you regain enough awareness to say, “I need a shower.”

“Give me ten more minutes and we can shower,” his hand runs down your back.

“Mmkay,” your lips ghost his neck and he shudders.

For those ten minutes he has asked for, he kisses you, deeply, sweetly, reverently. He holds you tenderly and kisses you like he worships the ground you walk on, like you’re incapable of doing anything wrong ever. And you kiss him back in kind, feeling like you don’t mind how scary it is to watch yourself fall in love with someone.

When he does get up, he’s careful with you, carrying you to the shower and washing your body, his fingers digging into some muscles as he goes, massaging you. Of course, he’s a little too focused on how his cum leaks from you when you’re standing upright, hesitant to wash it away but knowing you’d chew him out if he didn’t.

While standing in front of the bed, you feel heavy, achy, he’s washed and dried you, even helping you redress in clean pyjamas. He always takes such good care of you after he fucks you within an inch of your life.

Your eyes look at the wet stain left on the bed and you feel icky, “That’s so embarrassing…”

Bi-Han tracks your eyeline, also clean and redressed beside you, “Really? I’m quite proud.”

You hide your head in your hands, “You say… the worst things.”

Ignoring your words, he asks, “Want me to change the sheets?”

Peaking at him through your fingers, you smile at him, “Okay, sometimes you say really great things.”

He huffs, amused, but changes the sheets for you and when it’s fresh and clean, he pulls you into the bed and holds you close. You feel so warm and fuzzy and light and you want to stay with him forever, you want to stay just like this forever.

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