#it’s a miracle I’m able to sleep at night without being scared

[rabbigfirlee]

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[masonmtxo]

You’d been anxiously picking at your nails for the past 10 minutes, a habit you had picked up from Mason over the years, as you sat at your dining table watching him standing on the patio, phone held up against his ear. You couldn’t see his face, but you watched as the muscles in his back seemed to tighten with each passing minute. You both knew the outcome of the phone call, you’d known since the deal was pulled after the world cup if you were being entirely honest, but it still felt like you had been free falling for weeks now, seconds from hitting the ground and your new reality. Change in life was inevitable and often for the best, but you were both so comfortable in your current routine and such a huge upheaval was daunting and something you were still praying to avoid by some form of miracle.

You knew the second the phone was pulled from his ear and he immediately crouched the the ground, head in his hands, what the answer was. Without a second thought you threw yourself from your chair, Mason’s mum, dad and brother who were dotted around the room, also silently waiting for the outcome, didn’t even attempt to race you out the back door, knowing that all he needed at that moment was your presence.

His face was hidden in his hands as you sped towards him but you could tell he luckily wasn’t crying, body shuddering as he attempted to calm his breathing and contain the sudden onslaught of emotion that was inevitably wrecking through his exhausted brain. You’d been on holiday in the weeks leading up to this moment where he had finally seemed to settle, even more so when the pair of you joined his family for another week in the sun. But the second you returned and reality set in, he had become increasingly unsettled and jittery, just internally begging for the saga to be over. One of the first thoughts that flew into your brain, despite it being a scramble of emotions, was that he might just finally be able to get a good night sleep, undisturbed by the frequent need to check his phone round the clock for any updates from his team.

The moment you reached him you dropped down to your knees, wrapping your arms around his tense body and burrowing your face into his warm neck. He was silent for a moment before whispering “its over, they accepted the offer,” pulling his hands away from his face so he could reciprocate your embrace. You sat like that for an age, no words shared, just huddled together on your patio, heads pressing into the others necks, breathing in the smell of each other to try to attempt to settle the onslaught of conflicting emotions. You slipped your hand under his T-shirt, scratching your nails along his back in a way you had discovered early on in your relationship bought him comfort, pressing kisses onto the skin in front of you.

“Y/n?” You heard him murmur, his tone apprehensive.

You gave his neck another kiss before pulling away, wanting to look at him but giving in when he refused to pull away from the hidden safety of yours, “yeah baby?”

He paused for a moment sighing, before continuing, “is it okay that I’m scared?”

You had never heard him so vulnerable in your life, tears springing into your waterline in an instant at the sound, “of course its okay baby. It would be weird if you weren’t scared. Im scared too!” You hummed as he finally pulled himself away to hold your gaze, needing to look at you in the eye as you spoke, “but we’re in this together okay? New adventure in a new place for both of us. We’re a team and you aren’t going to have to deal with any of this alone,” you cupped one hand against his cheek, using your thumb to catch one stray tear that had escaped his misty eye despite his desperate attempts to keep it together.

“You 100% sure you want to come with me?” He whispered, insecurity flooding his face.

“No doubts whatsoever Mase. Anywhere you go, I go, we’re a family,” leaning your forehead against his you felt him nod slowly, silently agreeing with you. You stayed like that a while longer, until Mason finally began to move away, ready to go back inside and speak to his awaiting family who had quietly allowed the pair of you your private moment.

You both stood, Mason leaning down to give you a tender peck before reaching for your hand. “Ready?” You asked.

“Ready.”

[chvoswxtch]

midnights- blurb (less than 500 words) based on a lyric, book, tv/movie quote (request a vault track to make it spicy)

“i meant something like that." (from new girl) with matt <333 (i'm crying already, i love him so much)

I must confess, i've never seen new girl, so I just went wherever my brain took me when I read that quote (which ended up being angst, shocker) BUT there is a fluffy ending ;)

blurb below the cut

something like that (matt's version)

i meant something like that

“Sweetheart-”

“Don’t sweetheart me, Matthew.”

“Just let me explain.”

Matt followed your furious path across the living room that was bathed in flashing neon colors, like a sad puppy that knew it was in trouble, and into your shared bedroom where he tried to reach for your arm. Scalding steam was practically coming out of your ears as you sharply tore your arm away before he could grasp it.

“Why don’t you give me a quote for your eulogy instead, because it looks like I’m gonna be writing it a lot fucking sooner than I’d like.”

Matt visibly winced as the serrated bite of your words pierced him like cuts from a razor. You had every right to be angry with him, and he knew it. He asked for a lot of grace from you with his complicated lifestyle, both in the courtroom and on the shadowed streets. But he had been too reckless lately. He barely escaped a huge explosion on the docks by a divine miracle, but when he came home that night, he had scared you to death.

He had collapsed in the middle of the living room floor, covered in his own blood, fading in and out of consciousness. You had to cut his charred suit off just to be able to assess how bad it was. Claire had assured you that he was in a stable condition before she left, but when Matt woke up the next morning, he knew he had pushed you one step too far. 

You had been avoiding him for five days now. You left early for work while he was still sleeping on the couch, you went out of your way afterwork to kill time before you eventually had to go home, and when you did you ignored him completely and went straight to the bedroom, locking the door behind you.

It was torture for Matt.

Matt’s face softened into an expression of complete remorse, resembling that of a wounded duck. The apology was written all over his face, and you could see the guilt twinkling in the green flecks scattered in his hazel eyes. He slowly raised his hands up in a sign of surrender, and took a gentle step towards you.

“I know I scared you, and I’m so sorry. I never, ever, wanted to put you through that. I swear.”

“I thought you were going to die in my arms, Matthew. You know exactly what that feels like. It happened to you twice with Elektra. Why would you ever do that to me?”

Matt could taste the saltwater sliding down your cheeks before he heard the tears in your voice. Your words nearly knocked the wind out of him. He did know that pain. He never wanted to go through it again, or to make you go through it.

Taking a deep breath, he took another step closer towards you, tenderly reaching for your wrist. He brought your hand up and placed you palm over his chest, directly over his heart, and held it there with both of his own hands. Matt spoke in a gentle tone that caressed the strings of your heart.

“I never meant for that to happen, and it will never happen again. But it made me realize something very important. I don’t need to be Daredevil, but I do need you. There are a lot of people that love this city, and they can protect it without me. All I need to protect is you.”

You could feel his heart beating against your hand. It was strong, steady, and calm. The rhythm never faltered once. You could feel that he was telling the truth. Letting out a shaky breath, you wiped at your cheeks with your other hand.

“Dramatic gesture to extort my forgiveness? Very romantic.”

A tiny smirk instantly tugged at the corner of Matt’s full lips, causing one of your beloved dimples to make an appearance. He arched one of his brows when he heard the tease laced in your sarcasm.

“Did you want something grander?”

“Something like standing on the street under the window, holding a boombox over your head, blasting a cheesy love song while you beg for my forgiveness for all of New York to witness?”

Matt’s tiny smirk turned into a full blown grin as he gazed down at you blankly with a look of pure adoration. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and he pulled your left hand off his chest, holding it in one of his own, and slowly lowered himself down to one knee. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small black velvet box and used his thumb to open it, revealing a beautiful engagement ring that took your breath away.

“I meant something like that.”

[csbenthusiast]

May your heart never stop beating for me - Choi Yeonjun X f!reader

a/n: *ahem* hi😭 it’s been a long looong while since I last wrote something and posted in here(my apologies), but ummmm this is a comeback ? sort of? idk, but what I know is that this was sitting on my docs app FOR SO SO LONG LIKE SINCE FEBRUARY and it was supposed to be out on Halloween and then on Christmas but I got sick😬 anyways consider this a miracle and a late gift 😀 (I’m also planning a Soob fic that was supposed to be out on his birthday but shhhhhlets not talk about it for now).

a/n²: y’all I lied😨 I’m late once again, but what matters is that it’s finally here!! Literally a year later 😀 and ummm I tried to mix two ways of writing this, so I hope it was not confusing!

Genre: angst? it’s bittersweet.

CW: toxic relationship (nothing to worry about, YJ and mc just go back and forth), language, Yeonjun has a bad behavior(I’m not sorry, I was feeling very angsty), implied suggestive touches? they both need each other in a not so healthy way. Lemme know if I missed something!

WC: 2.2k

disclaimer: this only fiction and does not represent this idol in any way.

Pls enjoy and give me feedbacks:DDD they make me very happy (English is not my first language, excuse any mistakes 😙)

Songs I listened while writing this: here

The weather outside was definitely a mood killer. As the days passed by, October just got colder and colder. And it’s not like the chilly weather wasn’t nice, in fact, it was actually quite pleasant.

The season was nice, sure. But spending the days alone was not on your ‘to do’ list, to be honest.

Yeonjun left without even explaining himself once again. Everyday life seemed meaningless and the urge to check up on him was growing more and more.

It was worthless, though. Why bother yourself when he has never put you on the top of his priority list? Was it too much to ask?

Despite that, here you were, almost 10pm on a Tuesday trying to cheer up your mood with a random movie playing on the TV.

It was a terrible film, though. The best option was probably going to sleep, but you knew better; going to bed meant reminiscing everything until the first ray of sunshine was peeking through the curtains.

In the end, you tried to go through that mess.

And, somehow, that thing was able to get your attention to the point where you ended up startled by the sound of the doorbell.

You tried to ignore it at first, too scared to check who it was, but it rang again. Was it a murder? No, no murder would ring the doorbell before making a victim.

In defeat, and dragging your feet to where the door was, you took a look through the peephole and, right now, the person outside was probably worse than a murder.

Yeonjun couldn’t be on the other side in the middle of the night, right? It was like he read your mind.

You twisted the keys in a hurried move, though. Being curious sometimes was a curse.

“Hey.” It’s the only thing he bothered to say, looking at his feet like he was ashamed. As if.

“What are you doing here?” You hissed, not really sure of how you were supposed to feel. It’s kind of bittersweet.

He was still looking at the ground, but you took notice of how Yeonjun was shivering. Was it due to the cold and the lack of clothes? You’re not sure.

“I…” a sigh escaped his chapped “I don’t know, all the roads lead me here at the end of the day, I suppose.” It was an attempt to cheer up the mood, but by the look on your face he quickly replaced his smile with a frown.

Two pairs of eyes bored into each other, and it was clear that you were anything but pleased to see him standing by your doorstep. But, again, being good could be a curse, perhaps.

It was cold outside, and Yeonjun was shivering. Maybe you should invite him inside. Unfortunately, you did.

Huening Kai will have to deal with this later, I guess.

"Come on, you're clearly cold." You stepped aside, making room for him. "I can make some tea if you'd like. What do you say?"

"That's what I like about you, Y/N." Yeonjun winked "You're always looking out for me." and made himself comfortable on her couch.

"Do you deserve it, though?" the girl mumbled, occupying herself in the kitchen.

Meanwhile, the older boy was looking around the room and hallway. A few things changed; the picture you two took back in July was no longer hanging on the wall and a few decorations were out of place. Odd.

"Hey, Y/N?" he called, receiving back a hum. "Where's our photo? You know, the one you're kissing my cheek."

The nerve. Where does he think it went?

"What do you mean 'Where's our photo'?" She scoffed, dropping a few things while doing so. "I put it in a box, of course" and mumbled loud enough for Yeonjun to hear.

The boy frowned as if she said the most horrible thing in the world. How could she put it in a box? Does that mean their relationship meant nothing to her?

"I can see the gears turning inside your head." Y/N said from behind, which scared him a little. Did you have a sixth sense or something? "Don't think too much about it… or do, it's up to you since I don't have a say in any of our conversations anyways."

Now, that definitely bruised his ego. Why were you being so passive aggressive all of sudden?

"What's wrong?" He asked, sitting by the couch once again.

Is he playing dumb? Or is he just trying to get under my skin?

Y/N bitterly chuckled. You surely could've ignored him when he knocked on your fucking door a few minutes ago, but you didn't and now you had to deal with his stupid behavior.

No, wait. Why were you complaining, though? You were the one who agreed to play his little games, right? Little games? Is that what this is?

"Hey, Y/N, look at me, will you?" Ah, it took him long enough. He used that sweet tone; he always did. Maybe that's his curse, being awfully sweet yet such a jerk sometimes. "What's wrong? Now I'm the one who's able to see the gears in your head." He chuckled and grabbed her hands, gesturing for Y/N to sit beside him.

His touch sent shivers down her spine, but it’s not like she would admit it. And Yeonjun must’ve noticed that, because he took this opportunity to bring Y/N closer to his body with a hug.

That touch was supposed to be an act of comfort, but it only made her feel more anxious than when she saw his face earlier that night. However, it was impossible to ignore his scent; y/n’s senses were drowning with every touch and breath lingering on her skin. Yeonjun was sneaky, he moved his hand off her arms and stroked her back, and, maybe, just maybe, y/n’s heart started to beat a little bit faster and louder.

Perhaps that’s your curse. Yeonjun always found a way to drive you insane, and you always tried to push his buttons. But by the end of the day, you two would always get back together. Saying that it would be the last time you’d hurt each other was pointless, because it was not the truth.

Despite everything, y/n wanted to be mad, sad and let everything out. But she couldn’t, her mind was a complete mess with every brush of his fingers on her skin.

“Hey, you seem off.” Yeonjun brought her face closer to his by holding her chin.

“Am I now?” Y/N flinched at his touch, face burning with the proximity. Your body betraying your emotions made him smirk.

Yeonjun’s breath was against her neck, with lips slightly brushing over her ear.

“Yes, you are.” He whispered. “Kitten, talk to me. Why are your walls suddenly up, hm?” And planted a kiss by her pulse point.

This situation was uncomfortable, to say the least. But it’s not like you wanted him to stop.

Really? He should stop. You had to stop it.

“I hate you…” y/n’s breath hitched. She pushed him away, but that was not enough. He frowned and tried to get closer to you at all costs. “I hate you for lying to me. And…and for running away when you sensed something was wrong. You always do that and then come back here to say it’s the last time, but let’s be honest, we both know it’s not the last time and…”

Yeonjun kept quiet the whole time. He knew you were right, it was a very good point, but he wouldn’t admit it. As always, he tried to stand up for himself.

“Come on, Y/N, that’s not true. We both know that.” his thumb grazed the line of her upper lip and her whole body tingled at the touch.

You were better than that, of course. Your hands wrapping around his wrists to push him away were enough of a sign to startle him.

“You’re making me look like some fucking crazy ex-boyfriend.” His words were sharp; sharp enough to make Y/N chuckle and cry at the same time.

Maybe that's what he is. Ex-boyfriend. The words matched his actions, but why hearing or even saying it out loud left a bitter taste in your mouth?

“Maybe that’s what you are.” hurt was evident in her voice. “You run away, fuck some other girl and then come back to me expecting everything will be alright? I’m tired, Yeonjun. And I’d appreciate it if you could just…leave me alone.”

He went silent. The room grew silent once again, and the only sound that dared break the silence was the soft thuds of his heart. His breath hitched, but he put on an act with a scoff, trying his best to look unfazed.

What else was he expecting? She was right, he messed up one too many times. Even when they did reconcile, it never lasted long.

After a few minutes of thinking, and an endless amount of silence, he looked at her with a sly smile curling his lips.

“Kitten, has anyone made you feel as good as I do? I don’t think so…” his lips widened even more with every second.

And, maybe, just maybe, he was right, and thinking about it left a bitter taste on your mouth. No one has ever made you feel like he did; does. Did it really matter if he shattered your heart? By the end of the day he would be just Yeonjun, the loving, caring and stupid boy you met through your friends.

Yeonjun could read you like a book, but you never really tried to hide your feelings or reactions either. Just the subtle brush of his fingertips on your arm was enough to get him under your skin again.

It’s all too overwhelming.

“You like this, don’t you?” He whispered. “It’s a cat and mouse game. Excited much?” Yeonjun added.

Oh, yes. This was nothing but a game.

Right before his eyes y/n was clearly aching. But you didn’t have anywhere to hide, did you? You opened the door and let him in.

It’s just you and me now, she thought.

“Who wins in the end?” Y/n looked at him with a bored expression, but in reality everything about her was fragile now.

Despite that, Yeonjun kept a smug look on his face, bringing her close to him. It was obvious what he was thinking.

“I’m not quite sure. Wanna find out?” He licked his lips and kissed her cheek.

His breath was hot on your collar, making you loudly swallow. He moved his mouth from your face to your ear, then jawline and lastly the neck, making you whole body shiver with the contact, a human contact you missed for weeks.

“Why do you treat me like this?” She mumbled, too dizzy with his touches.

“Now, that’s not what I asked, love. Do you want to find out how this game ends?”

A tear dared to almost run down your face. You wouldn’t let Yeonjun do that to you, though.

“M-mouse…” Y/N whispered. “Mouse wins.”

Yeonjun seemed amused by your response, which made his grin widen; you couldn’t properly speak without wanting to break right in front of him.

He pulled away from you, going back on his feet.

Is he going away again? You thought right before he offered his hands for you to take. And so you did, just like you did a few months ago.

Surprisingly, the palm of his hands were really warm and welcoming. Who would’ve thought, right?

“You’re so pretty, princess…” Yeonjun smoothed your hair and dragged his thumb across your lips.

Pretty? It’s more like ‘weak’.

He was asking for something, that was a fact even if unspoken. You couldn’t blame him, could you? He was just this good at turning the tables, so good to the point he would make you feel weak and break for him.

“You’re not supposed to be here…” That was everything y/n was able to reply. She was confused, frustrated. Why was he doing all of this? To torture you?

But it felt good, though; having him there in the middle of the living room under the dim lights of the apartment. You didn’t want to be alone, it was not a good option.

However, it was impossible to ignore the tension growing in the air.

Before she could think some more, Yeonjun stumbled with her into the kitchen, being quick to press a soft kiss on her lips and placing her on top of the counter.

It was a short touch of lips, but enough to make y/n sparkle inside and also shake with anxiety. He did know how to be convincing.

“This is the last time I tell you’ve got it wrong…the last time I’ll run away.” He mumbled, chin resting on her shoulder while she caressed his covered back.

“Only if you promise me your heart won’t ever stop beating for me.”

He nodded, a silent agreement.

Was it really?

“I promise.” Yeonjun smirked, holding y/n on his arms and dragging her down the hallway straight to her room.

Heh happy Valentine’s Day y’all

[adthedarkcowboy]

Fallen Muriel AU(renewed version):Part one

Authors Notes: After getting better at writing by writing a book I’m working on, I’ve decided to renew this AU. I’ll be trying to get an account on Ao3, but for now, it’ll be on Tumblr for all of you to see first.

(Old) Fallen Muriel AU here!

Crowley sat in his car, with his plants in the back. He tried to keep himself sober enough so he could miracle enough water on them by setting an alarm twice a day. They kept him company-or at least tried to-, having no resentment towards their god for tormenting them all these years. The plants reminded him way too much of humans-the ones that followed her endlessly no matter how much she hurt them. After the flood, they still loved her. After allowing the guard of her garden’s eastern gate to be-almost-executed, he still loved her. Crowley wondered just how much the other humans-the satanists and atheists of earth-angered her. But then he thought if they truly did anger, wouldn’t she have done something? People sin all the time without confessing to a priest, Crowley should know. He’d see someone drunk on the streets, barely able to walk,some married man cheating on his wife with a prostitute or a woman betting all of her money at a casino, and see those same three in parks or in cars. If she truly was made at the humans for sinning or not believing in her, the Almighty would’ve done something about it. But yet again she gave humans no warning that she would wipe each and every single one of them out and make them pay even if they were innocent children.

“What exactly are you planning,hmm?” Crowley stared at the empty night sky, as if God was right there. He wished he was drunker. “Not just with the humans, but with everything. Your plan was to make angels and demons fight, yeah? Wipe everything and everyone from earth and have the battle here, but that was almost five years ago,and you’ve made no attempt to do that again.” He straightened himself and chuckled. “What? Me and him really scare you that bad? You’re god!Your little principality and the serpent of Eden-your ex-star maker-have a little rebellious moment against you, and you do nothing?! ‘All mighty’ yet you haven’t been in a conversation with any of your angels in several millennia!” There was no one around Muriel’s Book-Shop besides him and the Bentley to hear him yelling.“…..Ya’ know, a conversation would’ve been nice. Better than being told to take a hike by your speaker, The Metatron. That’s sort of childish, isn’t it? Having someone speak for you. Your really childish, ya’ know that?” He held the ‘e’ in really for a minute.

Now that he was hearing himself talk perfectly, he figured he was just tipsy and not actually drunk. He didn’t remember the last time he drank any type of wine. That was what he drank with Aziraphale. He tried to convince himself he was truly over Aziraphale, considering it’d been months. The last time he saw him, the air was much warmer than it was now, so Crowley had stayed in his car for most of the time from December to February. Maybe once it got warmer he’d visit Muriel again. It was like walking through a snow storm just to get to the door, and he’d have to wait for their approval for him to cross the barrier.

His alarm went off on his phone and he flipped it up from the seat across from him. As he went to press the stop button and schedule another alarm, he saw the time.3:59.

He tried to leave the plants with Muriel some time in August and sleep for a few millennia, but found that he had some form of insomnia that he thought only humans could get. It didn’t make him feel tired during the day, but sleep was like floating in space again, feeling numb and weightless. Sleep made him think about nothing. Not Aziraphale or the fact the almighty was a childish prick. Without any sleep he felt to many things and when he was drunk his head hurt afterwards. So he constantly felt to many things and it overwhelmed him. He wanted to cry but he begged his eyes to not do that. Anything but that. His eyes began to betray him, so he tilted his head down to the floor so they wouldn’t hit his face. Forgetting to open his legs so they’d fall directly to the floor, his holy water tears stung his thighs, going through his black jeans.The holy water wasn’t as strong, being a demons tears, so they didn’t sizzle his skin off, but instead burned. It’s like drizzling hot water on your skin. He didn’t care. He let the tears fall , just so he could have the chance of not feeling anything.

Once he finally stopped crying he opened his eyes and stared at his legs. There were several little pink circular scars, some small, some big, some creating lines down his legs as the holy water dripped off. His pants were torn up like some poked holes through them. He sighed, putting his head on the wheel. He needed to sleep for more than a millennia. The world,his world, was too much for him to handle at this moment. He’d have drank the rest of the holy water already if Muriel hadn’t taken in it. Probably for some sort of investigation they were doing. Snapping his fingers, the holes closed, and the holes in his pants were sewn back to normal, but the small little scars remained.

Sighing again, Crowley began to put the Bentley into drive, but it wouldn’t start.

“Oh come on, I’m barely drunk!”

The car didn’t comply with his wishes and just stayed put. Crowley was about to yell again until a disposable demon spawned out side of the Bentley, just waiting for the car door to be opened. The serpent, getting tired-and fairly disturbed- by a random demon staring idly and blankly into his window, grabbed his glasses and stepped out.

“What?”

“There’s a random fallen angel asking for you. It won’t tell us its name, or anything. Could be a spy from heaven won’t stop asking for-“

“Name doesn’t really matter now that they’re fallen, does it?” Crowley his back leaned on the Bentley for support against the fatigue and alcohol.

“…well….no, I suppose not. Think you know it?” The disposable demon teleported them both to hell. Crowley followed, swaying his non-existent hips as he walked down the dirty, crowded corridor. Hell was dingy as….well, hell. The screams of the damned could be heard,as well as the barks of hell hounds,waiting to be let out into the world. Demons and sinners alike crowded a single door, some even trying to pick the lock, but failing helplessly. Others tried scratching at the door with their claws. A demon working in the damnation department had to step in and take a pair of sinners with gunshot wounds back to their rightful area. The crowd caught his attention-or rather the familiar red hair of a demon caught his attention- and he began moving through the crowd towards the long haired ginger demon.

He grabbed Crowley’s shoulder.“You and that little angel pet of yours made a complete fool of me in 1941!”

The serpent didn’t look back at whoever had mentioned Aziraphale. “1941….oh! You’re…..”

The demon only got more furious. “Furfur!We’ve worked together for several millennia! We even worked on the same stars once!” The random, somewhat familiar, demon followed as Eric and Crowley pushed through the crowd, several demons swearing and clawing at them, so much so that the two had to fight not to be scratched or hit.

The mention of stars twisted the knife in Crowley’s everlasting wound. “Which-Oh,go take a swan dive off into boiling sulphur again!-which ones, exactly?”

The unknown demon gasped. “We worked on two whole constellations! How can you not-“ His voice instantly faded when a sinner in a cassock caught a hold of him and began to attempt some sort of ransom,demanding to be sent to heaven, calling himself a man of the lord.

“Eric-that’s it right?You’re name,I mean.”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“Okay,good-very important thing to remember- do you know him? His voice is ringing some bells but not loud enough.”

Eric instantly caught to what he meant, admittedly and impressively quicker than any other demon or supernatural entity for that matter. “I don’t actually know..I think I remember Dagon talking about him once. Hey! We need to get through, move it!” The demon he yelled at, grabbed him quickly and shoved him into a hell hounds cell. Crowley winced as he screamed, and the demon just snarled at the staring serpent.

Morphing into a snake, Crowley slithered through the crowd of humanoid shaped things,narrowly avoiding some attempts to stomp him and into the room through a bullet hole at the bottom. The room was surprisingly bright and empty, yet so full of rusted filing cabinets that Crowley didn’t recognize. Morphing into a humanoid form, he looked around the room, hearing buzzing from the overhead lights. Dust particles flew around as Crowley slowly walked through the room. The silence was deafeningly loud, so much so Crowley began to actually breathe so he could hear something other than thoughts, smelling mold and moss and other organisms,but the only sounds were produced by him and the lights.

It didn’t take long for him to find a door and the slight smell of boiling sulphur burned his nose. The smell was too familiar to make him draw back, but it wasn’t pleasant and he stopped breathing. He opened the door and saw…more filing cabinets…

“Oh,come on! I don’t have time for this!” He quickly began to turn back, and had his hand on the handle before he heard a familiar voice.

“Mr. Crowley? Is that you?”

He didn’t want to turn around. He wanted to just go with his thoughts that told him he was hearing things and move on with his life, but he couldn’t;he cared too much to just leave. He cared more than he’d like to admit, so he turned slowly.

“Oh good…” Muriel stood there, with their usual clothes stained black, as well as their wings,he assumed…but he couldn’t see them. He brushed it off, thinking they had them hidden. He remembered being ashamed of his wings and his eyes at first too. “….Wait…where’s Mr- i mean the Supreme Archangel?….Mr Crowley…?”

Crowley couldn’t move, all he could do was stand there, staring widely. On their left shoulder were bandages that wrapped on their arm and across their chest. Their eyes,filled with confusion, shock and hope, striped of almost all innocence, made the knife in his chest go deeper. He felt dizzy, like he was the one who just fell, and stumbled into a filing cabinet.

“Mr Crowley! Are you okay-“

He put a hand up,signaling them to stop, and got up even if he barely had the ability to stand up right. His sunglasses were now in his hand,and he just stared at Muriel-or whatever new name they’d want to pick for themselves-with watery, serpentine eyes.

Muriel’s eyes,that resembled those of a pigeon, went wide. “Your….” They looked to the ground,thinking. “Eyes! Yes, that’s right! Your eyes are leaking! Is that a demon thing? I never saw that happen much in Heaven, so it must be a demon thing.”

Muriel continued talking, and Crowley let them. They seemed happy, like they never fell. Did they fall? Where are their wings? Are they hiding them because they hurt, or did something happen to them? His mind raced with questions that he could ask later. He was going to ask them later, when this euphoric rush they felt was over. When they could focus on what happened and any questions he had. But for now, he let them talk and talk and talk as demons continued clawing and screaming at the door, then it connected that a demon had scratched them and they were the explanation for the bandages. Crowley would deal with them later, so for now a simple miracle to help drown out the sound would suffice.

“Oh. That’s much better now. You can hear me. We’re in hell, right? Is that why they were screaming? They shouted some….things….but not all demons are bad. I’m not bad…I don’t think…you’re not bad, because you’re friends with Supreme Archangel Aziraphale. I saw you two put your faces together through the window, is that a human thing?”

Crowley didn’t know how to respond. He blinked, tried to talk and failed, finally resorting to a simple nod. His answer was the truth, it was a human thing, but in that instance, in the time Muriel was referencing, it didn’t feel like one. People kiss for love. Crowley’s kiss was for …..also love, but it didn’t feel like it. He felt angry about it. How could Aziraphale not see that it was love, when it most clearly was?

….

The stress Heaven gave its new archangel was making him frantic. They’d been planning to bestow a child to a virgin, and Aziraphale had to go down and tell her. Aziraphale didn’t know how to handle any of that, he wasn’t used to that. He wasn’t made for that! The original Archangels were made to handle such responsibilities, not principalities that managed to get to the top! What was he to say exactly? Oh, sorry to bother you in the middle of the night miss, please don’t call the authorities. I’m here to tell you that you’re pregnant with the lords child, isn’t that such good news! There truly was no way to casually say something like that. It wasn’t like the old times. Women today had a choice, and what if she doesn’t want to have a child? What then? Aziraphale wasn’t going to force her to have a child. He knew how painful and risky and traumatic it could be for the mother and the child. There were too many things to think about, all of which was pinned on him.

“But,people today aren’t like Mary and Joseph were.”

“There has to be someone who wants to parent the Second Coming,Aziraphale. Why would you not want to?!” Micheal responded.

“But there’s so many risks and dangers! The mother and the child could die, or have complications!”

“Then we’ll make sure that doesn’t happen!….Just go down there and tell her! It’s not that hard Aziraphale.”

Uriel and Micheal both treated him like he was still just the principality guarding the eastern gate of Eden. Aziraphale wanted to protest, but thought it’d be good to go a day in advance so she could get a full nights rest before the news-

“It’s not going like last time.” The Metatron was suddenly beside Aziraphale’s desk.

“….what?” Micheal said.

“It’s not going like last time. We actually have the Second Coming here with us, and we’re going to send it to earth as an adult human.”

“What, why?” Aziraphale looked at the Metatron.

“The humans were too reckless with the last one, so it’d be best to keep it here for the time being.”

Aziraphale, Micheal and Uriel sat there puzzled. Yes, the humans were reckless with Jesus, crucifying him, but that didn’t mean anything. Him dying was beneficial to the humans, wasn’t it? So why not do it again?

“And….the almighty said to do it this way?” Uriel asked, confused.

“Yes.”

Aziraphale put his hands together and put them to his mouth, his elbows on his desk. There was a weight off of his shoulders, but why would they do it differently?

“-and we’ll teach it how to properly judge humanity by looking at what they’ve done. And ,Aziraphale?”

He snapped out of thought quickly. “Yes?”

“If you could educate the child on what’s defined as worthy of heaven or hell, that’d be better for us all.” Micheal couldn’t help but scoff at the Metatron.

Aziraphale sighed and got up. “I’ll do it. One moment, I’ll be right back.”

He needed to get away from everything. It was too much and began to give him a headache. He approached the giant globe and hesitated for a second. “You’re Supreme Archangel, act like it.” Micheal had told him a few days ago. She was right. He did need to act like it.

He touched the area on the globe that was the right spot. It must be late at night there by now, so no one would care if he randomly teleported there, right?

Before Uriel could stop him and say something, Aziraphale quickly teleported to Earth, directly outside of his bookshop.

[allthewriteplaces]

A Magnolia In May: Chapter Sixteen

Author's note: Chapter Sixteen is finally here, y'all! I realized I had it most of it written down, but I needed to just add a little bit more to it just because I didn't want it to be too short. It's kind of uneventful, but I thought it was cute, so I kept going. :)

Chapter Summary: A quiet moment between Tommy and Jessie and afterwards, she, Lizzie and the kids go to a book store.

Chapter Warning(s): Mentions of injury and pain

Word Count: 2647

Chapter Sixteen

“Stay … with … me … Please …” 

He winced as he spoke and exhaled shakily as his one hand moved slightly upwards to soothe the purple bruises on his neck, while the fingers on his other hand still gripping my sleeve like his very existence depended on me being there. I sat back down on the chair, placed my hand on top of his and moved my thumb across his knuckles. 

Whoever attacked him was attempting to strangle him and by some miracle, he managed to escape, or maybe someone saved him. Either way, it still hurt to talk and this frustrated him. Clara noticed this as she continued the examination. 

“Give yourself some time to heal, Mister Shelby,” she said gently. “It may take a couple of days for you to be able to talk again, so don’t push yourself too far.” 

He nodded, but didn’t say anything. 

I wished with all my heart that there was some way for me to be able to take all his pain and lock it away in a chest, then toss that chest into the ocean and let it all sink to the ocean floor, never to be discovered. 

Fortunately, all of Thomas’ vitals were good. Clara was relieved, she said, because like she mentioned earlier, he had a dreadful fever the night before and I could tell she wasn’t sure whether or not he would wake up the next morning, which was our greatest fear and why I couldn’t sleep because what if he died and neither of us had the chance to say goodbye? What would we have told Charlie and Ruby? 

When we got the phone call that told us he would be alright, I almost wanted to break down and cry, because I was relieved, overjoyed, scared and happy all at the same time, but I held back until I could slip away into my room to let the tears fall. 

Clara changed the bandage, gave him some more medication for the pain, and then stepped back. “Everything else looks promising, though.” 

Just as she was about to say something else, another nurse knocked on the door. Clara went to open it and from where we were sitting slash laying, Thomas and I overheard them talking about needing assistance with another one of the patients and without wasting any time, Clara excused herself and once again, it was just the two of us. 

Getting a better look at him, I could see that he had a beard growing in. He seemed to notice me staring. 

I know. I need to shave.. 

“I don’t know, I kind of like the new beard.” 

He rolled his eyes, still grinning, but pretended to pout. 

 But it itches! 

“I’m sure Lizzie would help you if you ask her to.” 

He shook his head and looked me in the eye. 

 I want you to help me 

My cheeks warmed up. I wanted to tease him, but it was hard to do when he was looking at me with that crooked grin of his. And then after a second, I said, “Are you hungry? I could sneak down to the kitchens and get you some chocolate pudding.” 

He made a face. 

No offence, but the chocolate pudding here is terrible. 

I laughed, which made his grin widen, but then his mouth tightened and his face scrunched up. I could see the pain and how hard he was trying to hide it. I wondered how long it would take for the medication Clara gave him to kick in. 

I hoped that it wouldn’t take too long. 

“Tell you what,” I said, wanting to help keep his mind off it, “we will make you the best chocolate pudding ever and you can eat as much of it as you want when you come home. How does that sound?”

Instead of writing his response down, he just nodded his head and let it turn to the side a little. 

I rambled on for a couple more minutes, just to give him other things to think about besides his aching bones and muscles. Mostly, I talked about the family reunion and how much they all missed him. He told me he missed them, too, and they couldn’t wait to be home.  

“That’s why you can’t go disappearing like that, Mister Shelby,” I said in a playfully chastising tone, “You miss too much. And nothing’s the same without you.” 

You miss seeing my handsome face every morning, Miss Bennett?

“More than you could ever know,” I said, watching his smile return and his whole body started to relax again. 

Lizzie and the kids came back in a few minutes later and we stayed for a little while longer. Apparently there was a bird’s nest outside in one of the trees in the yard and the birds were hatching. Of course they couldn’t get too close, but Charlie said that he could see their little bald heads peeking out from the edge of the nest. 

We only stayed for ten minutes more because Thomas started looking a little tired, probably because the medication was finally working, so we decided to let him get some sleep. 

The air had gotten cooler in the brief amount of time that we spent in the hospital, which is why we were glad we decided to wear our coats after all. I kept my hands in my pockets until we got to the car, then we got in. I shivered a little and so did Ruby, as we buckled up. 

“I miss Daddy,” said Ruby. I turned around in the seat to look at her, her brown-eyed gaze fixed on the window, on the rolling hills of the countryside and I noticed how hard she was trying to hold the tears back. 

“Me, too,” said Charlie. He turned away from his own window to look over at her and hold her hand, which she took, her eyes never leaving the rolling raindrops. 

Lizzie and I shared a glance. We all missed Thomas, that much was clear, but I could only imagine that it was a hundred times harder on the children. She sighed softly, pushing back her own negative feelings, at least for now, and she smiled. 

“The doctors at the hospital are very nice. They’ll take care of your dad and when he feels better, he can come home.” She reached back and placed a hand on Ruby’s  lap while also giving Charlie an encouraging smile. “It won’t be long now.” 

Lizzie had a few errands to run, so once we drove into town and parked the car, I told her I would take the children into the various shops along Charing Cross Road and that we could meet back in an hour. 

Charing Cross Road was a booklover’s paradise, each shop a charming haven of peace from the clamour of the busy streets. A series of shelves, some of them stacked right along the sidewalks, had every sort of book you could possibly imagine — romances by Emily Brontë and Jane Austen, adventure books like Huckleberry Finn and Moby Dick, and if you want to read something involving tragedy, then might I suggest Anna Karenina or Hamlet? Or if you’re more into mystery novels, you will definitely enjoy The Door by Mary Roberts Rinehart, or The Cape Cod Mystery by Phoebe Atwood Taylor. 

They even sold second-hand books, books that no one wanted anymore. Most of them were in good condition, though others showed signs of wear and tear. Actually, it made them look more ancient, more antique, adding to their charm. 

In short, these bookshops had it all. 

the four of us drove to our next destination. There was a bookshop around here that I wanted to stop at to see if there would be any books that Thomas would like. He never really had time to read anything, by the time he came home and by the time the kids were in bed, he would be too tired to even try and focus on the words on the page.

Unless, once he came home, after I’d finished all of my chores and put the children to sleep, I could sit in the chair in his room beside his bed and read to him. I don’t know why that thought was so comforting, or why it brought such a big smile to my face, but it is the one thought that kept my spirits up. 

Obviously, I wanted to choose something that I knew he would like and not get bored of halfway through. From what little I knew about his taste in books, I knew that perhaps a romance novel would be too predictable. 

I picked up a fresh copy of Crime and Punishment and skimmed through the pages. It was a murder story, told from a murder’s point of view. I wondered if that would be something he would enjoy, or if it would be too gruesome. Suppose I chose a couple of books, would he see the selection and decide which one he wanted to read first? If that be the case, at least that way I might get some idea of what sort of books he did enjoy, and besides, I had more than enough pounds to spare from my salary. 

Thankfully, there were also a handful of children’s books. Ruby had Little House in the Big Woods tucked under her arm and Charlie added another to his collection of The Hardy Boys series he had on his shelf. 

By the time we paid for our books, Lizzie was outside waiting. 

“Did you find anything?” she asked me as we walked back to the car. 

“I wasn’t sure exactly what he liked, so I grabbed a bit of everything.” 

“That’s a solution I haven’t thought of,” she laughed and then said in a slightly louder voice. “Ruby, darling. Are you alright?” 

Just before she looked over her shoulder to answer her mother’s question, I noticed that she was walking in a sort of odd way, taking gigantic strides as she made her way to the end of the sidewalk. 

“I don’t wanna step on any cracks, so I’m stepping over them like this.” 

Lifting one leg, she took another big step. 

When we caught up to her at the curb, I crouched down slightly and helped fix up her dress that was slightly crinkled while looking softly into her eyes to try and get to the bottom of why she suddenly started avoiding cracks. 

“Why’s that?” I asked her. 

“One of the boys at Church said that if you step on a crack, bad things happen.” 

“What sort of things?” Lizzie pressed gently. 

“Monsters coming up out of the ground,” said Charlie and Ruby nodded. 

“Oh, really?” I said, remembering what some of the boys I knew growing up used to say about cracks in the sidewalk, how they were somehow connected to the Underworld, and if you step on one, a demon from Hell would show up and torment you forever. Even though I was a grown woman and wouldn’t exactly call myself a superstitious person anymore, that story frightened me as a child, that it’s just a habit now for me to avoid them. 

“What kind of monsters?” asked Lizzie. 

“Red ones as tall as those houses over there. They have two large horns on their heads, and they can catch on fire.” Ruby answered, making her fingers into horns on either side of her head for emphasis. “And they have yellow eyes that can see in the dark, even when all the lights are out. That’s what they like. Darkness.”

“My, my!” I exclaimed, putting a hand on my heart, “that does sound scary, but you know, it’s just a story.”

“Yeah, just a story,” Charlie echoed, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder in a protective manner. “There are no demons here, right, Mum?” 

“That’s right,” Lizzie confirmed, smiling at him and then turning back to Ruby, taking both hands in hers and looking into her eyes with determination. “Because you know what monsters, even big ones, fear most of all?” 

Ruby’s eyes widened excitedly. “What?” 

“They fear light, happiness and joy, it scares them away.” 

“So if I smile like this, will they stay away from us?” 

“You bet they will!” I said, nodding, with my hands on my hips. 

“And if that doesn’t work, I know how to fight them off,” said Charlie, doing a roundhouse kick in the air. 

“Will you teach me, too?” she asked, “just in case?” 

“Of course I will,” he said, taking her hand. “That’s what older brothers are for.” 

Ruby looked over her shoulder. “Jessie, do you have an older brother?”

“I don’t have an older brother, no, but I have an older cousin.” 

“What’s his name?” asked Charlie. 

“David,” I answered. 

“Does he teach you how to fight?” 

I didn’t want to dampen the mood by saying that I hadn’t seen my older cousins in years, and that no, he didn’t teach me how to fight, although I could say that he had a family of his own now, which was probably true, but instead, I said, “My uncle taught me how, I think I was about Karl’s age when I started learning.” 

“I want to ask you how old you are now, but my Aunt Polly says it’s not good manners to ask a lady her age,” said Charlie. 

“Well, your Aunt Polly is right,” I said, trying to maintain a serious tone of voice while trying to hide my amusement, “it is most certainly not good manners to ask a lady her age, but I don’t mind you asking at all.” 

“Are you a hundred?” asked Ruby. 

“Ruby,” Lizzie shook her head, but even she couldn’t keep back a smile. 

“Come on, I don’t look that old, do I?” I asked playfully. 

Charlie laughed and Ruby tried to keep back a smile. 

“If you must know, I’m twenty-seven.” 

“That’s a big number,” said Ruby. “Not as big as one hundred, though.” 

“No, we still have a long way to go before we get there,” I said. 

On the drive home, Charlie asked if they could read their new books on the way home, Lizzie agreed and they did so only breaking the silence when something funny happened with a soft laugh. We let the silence carry on for a little while. I turned to look out at the rain. It seemed to always be raining in England most days, but I didn’t mind it, mostly because Summer was just around the corner. The sun would be out and the streams and lakes and rivers would be warm enough to swim in and that would be worth the wait. 

Occasionally, there was a word in their book that they didn’t know the meaning of, or sometimes Ruby was stuck on a particular word and would ask Charlie to help her read it. She was only four years old and was just learning to read, so it was expected that there would be a little hiccup now and then, but aside from that, she was a fast learner and would be reading all on her own in no time, and our nightly spelling competitions certainly helped as well. 

That night, Charlie and I cooked dinner. They’d been taking turns; one night, he would help me and then the next night, Ruby would help me, or they would help Lizzie. Tonight, we made mashed potatoes and vegetables, and though neither of them were too keen on it -- and to be honest, I wasn’t, either -- we ate them anyway. We ate them first, if only to get to the potatoes. Those were the best part of the meal. 

We ate. We talked. We laughed. 

And we waited with bated breath in hopes that it would all get better. 

Taglist: @zablife @runnning-outof-time @sherbitdibdab @cillmequick

[purple-parasthesiac]

Maintenance Art #1: Saying I Care

This week, I went to Danish Walmart. It’s not actually a Walmart, it's called Bilka, but it’s a big warehouse filled with almost anything you could ever need. It’s affordable, it’s a bitch to get around, it makes me want to ditch my local grocery store: it’s Walmart. I initially went because I’ve been missing having a solid hot sauce in my kitchen, and I’d heard rumors of a mythical “American food” aisle. Maybe, just maybe, I could find the hot sauce of my youth? But of course, the Danes could never; I wasn’t able to find what I was looking for, but I did something else. I found something in myself… well, in myself in a big box store. 

It started when I wandered to the alcohol aisle. I had plans to see my friend in the afternoon. This friend, she’d recently moved out of our shared apartment and in with her girlfriend. I was thrilled for her: her girlfriend was so great, their apartment so lovely. In the weeks leading up to it, I could see the excitement rattling in her. She said that she wasn’t sure she’d be able to sleep the night before the move; it would be like waking up on Christmas morning as a kid. I had never seen someone so excited to carry a couch down a narrow set of stairs, or haul boxes into a truck.

We were at the dinner table a few days beforehand, and she said something that struck me: “Everything will be different. I can’t wait.”

I have seldom known love without hesitation. The first time I said “I love you” to a partner, I did because I was afraid they were going to self harm. In my second relationship I never said it, even as my love burned a hole in me, even as it ate me alive. The third time, I said it too late, and it probably poisoned the rest of the relationship. To see my best friend let someone else change her life entirely with so little fear… it was beautiful. And unfathomable. A miracle, really, or it might as well be one to me. 

Of course, my life was about to change too. Her and I had lived together since moving to Copenhagen nearly a year and a half ago. That was also sort of a miracle. I have so many fond memories of eating pancakes, buying snacks and watching TV, choking down Sambuca before a night out, going shopping on the weekends and coming back with stupid shit like lava lamps or mini foosball sets. You see, she has a life instinct. She understands routine, maintenance, simple pleasures. When I was depressed, anxious, heartbroken, lonely, or otherwise losing my shit, she was my tether to the world of the living. I didn’t keep her at arm’s length, but maybe only because I couldn’t; there was no way for me to hide my dysfunctions in a two-person apartment. And now, she was leaving, and I was scared. What if I couldn’t maintain this closeness without an obligatory shared space?

So, back to the alcohol aisle. We needed something to drink in order to celebrate. I spent a long time in this section, searching with a precise eye, looking for a perfect combination of aromatics and sweetness. I picked up a 100 kr bottle. Than a 200 kr. Then a 300 kr bottle; she deserves real champagne, right? And why not get two? She might want a back up for all the people they’ll host in the coming weeks. And then I remembered that she mentioned them needing bottle stoppers. Well, I can’t buy a 300 kr bottle of champagne without a proper bottle stopper, one meant for fizzy drinks. And while I’m at it, they need glasses, and probably a cocktail set too, since I’d kept the one me and her shared. And I couldn’t still find the bottle stopper, so I walked through almost every aisle in the store looking for it. Maybe it’s in a weird place! I looked and looked and looked but, to my increasing frustration, I couldn’t find it. My plan was being toppled. I was being a bad friend-

And then, in the middle of the baking aisle, I paused. I looked at my full basket, probably totaling almost 1000 kr at this point.

The thing about my friend is that she has some simple drink preferences -she likes gin, she likes bubbly things- but beyond that, it’s really all just alcohol to her. I was about to drop a ton of money, but not for her. For me.

When I was sixteen, my parents sat me down, handed me a credit card attached to their bank account, and said “We’re done raising you”. At the time, I was closeted, in a secret relationship, friendless, feeling rejected by the church, mildly suicidal, and falling into an affair with an eating disorder that would define the next five years of my life. I felt like a disgrace in the eyes of God, and I was convinced that if my parents ever knew who I really was, they would hate me. On some level they knew I was struggling, but they didn’t know why or how to intervene. Instead, I got gifts: money, clothes, jewelry. When I was twenty and finally told my dad I had been in recovery for my ED for a year and a half -in the middle of a horrible fight that became the impetus for a relapse- he apologized by buying a bouquet of flowers, giving me a teddy bear, and saying “we could have helped you pay”. We never talked about it again. 

I hated all of this. People close to me know how hard it is to get gifts for me, because I, by instinct, feel like I’m being placated, or it will replace what I really want, which is emotional intimacy. But here I was, in danish Walmart, doing the same thing that had been done to me just because I was too afraid to say I wanted to keep being a part of her life.

I put it all back. Instead, I decided I would try something new, and bring her the type of gift I would have wanted. I brought her this story. She said she would cherish it. 

These last two weeks have been about my issues with vulnerability. Which sucks because, let me tell you, I am very vulnerable right now! Living alone, recent breakup, it’s not a good recipe. But the world has invited me to share a table with others -physically and metaphorically- many times in this period, and I have sat there. And even though it leaves me a total nervous wreck afterwards, I have tried to tell the people with me that they’re not trivial in my life: "I care about you", "I would miss you if you were gone", "How are you, really?", "I’ve been better, but I’m glad to be here now", "We are here for each other", "When's the next time I can spend time with you?", "This is worth it". 

My Act of Maintenance for the coming week: 

Make a list of people you care about. Circle the ones you haven’t talked two in a while. Reach out to at least one of them. 

[chateautae]

maybe i do | kth. IX

➵ summary :  maybe you love each other, maybe you don’t. when a deal between your fathers leaves you forcefully wedding kim taehyung, arguably seoul’s most powerful CEO, you’re prepared for a loveless marriage of eternal regret and unhappiness. but maybe, it doesn’t turn out that way after all.

↳  part of the high-class series!

➵ pairing : taehyung x reader

➵ genre :  arranged marriage!au, ceo!tae, s2l!au, eventual smut, fluff, angst

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 32k (i’m sorry)

➵ warnings : swearing, sexual content, morning after shenanigans, heavy petting, heavy making out, loads of breast play/nipple sucking, marking, a friendly spank, light female oral, mentions of showering together, sexting, phone sex, teasing, female masturbation, finger sucking, basically pushing tae’s buttons until he snaps, and he does, p u n i s h m e n t, hard dom!tae, sub/brat!reader, brat-taming!!, dirty talk, discipline, heavy power play, consent talk cause that’s sexy, oral (m. receiving), throat-fucking, gagging, unprotected sex (safe sex is paycheques peeps) rough sex, sex on a desk, hitting it from the back that turns into missionary, choking, hair-pulling, edging, begging, crying, orgasm control + denial, restraint, some pussy-slapping :D, the slightest pain kink, name kink, impregnation kink, squirting, creampie, tae’s lovely aftercare xoxo, mentions of pregnancy, baby-making talk, baby-making (?) sex

➵ a/n: forgive me if this chapter doesn’t sound like my best work, i rushed it to focus on my final assignments and exams instead, i’m also writing with a bad shoulder cause of work 😭😭 pls enjoy our two favourite idiots being fluffy and horny and whipped for each other uwu, thank you to my lovely beta-reader @hantaev as always 🥺 and feedback means the world to me <3

➵ songs for this chapter:  “the hills” by the weeknd (for the punishment scene kekeke), “i like me better” by lauv

chapter nine : “i wanna ask you, if this is all just in my head?”

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The only way to encapsulate your frame of mind was a simple word; heaven. You were at peace in your slumber, a serene quietness befalling you and Taehyung as you slept in his arms. A small, fresh morning breeze escaped the sheer curtains, meaning little when being engulfed by the warmth of Taehyung’s bare chest and his rich, comforting scent.

His large palm was splayed across your back, loosely clutching you to him as his body rose and fell rhythmically. It’s skin-to-skin underneath the sheets, bare legs entwined together, intimately nuzzled into each other’s personal space without a single worry in the world. 

Until you heard an ugly screech from the depths of hell.

You suddenly awake to the sound of Taehyung’s alarm blaring at the ass crack of dawn, tearing you away from your blissful dreamland. You groan in complaint, curling into Taehyung’s side with a whine. 

“Taehyung, turn that fucking thing off, the sun’s barely out.” You grumble sleepily, feeling Taehyung’s broad shoulders stir underneath you.  

“Fucking hell,” He mumbles, voice deep and laden with sleep. “It’s goddamn Monday.” Taehyung runs a hand through his hair tiredly, barely able to wedge an eye open as he beats his alarm clock off. 

“We went to sleep 4 hours ago, Tae. Why the fuck are you even getting up at 5 in the morning?” You huddle together under the covers he tugs over your bodies securely, early morning dew dampening the room. “Do you run a marathon before going to work?”  

“It’s nothing, babe.. let’s just sleep.” He dismisses too easily, turning on his side and encasing you in his arms with an indulgent hum, returning to sleep.  

But your eyebrows quirk in suspicion. 

You prop yourself on an elbow and peer at him inquisitively, rubbing an eye. “What do you mean nothing, Taehyung? What is it?” 

“Nothing, Princess. Just come back to me, I’m cold.”  His thick, husky timbre is downright illegal. His arms request for your presence with shut eyes, and as much as you’d love to cuddle your fluffy-haired, sleepy husband, you’ve always been more of a curious cat. 

“Tae.. spit it out. Why is your alarm clock set so early?” You lightly push at his shoulder to evade his grabby hands. He lands on his back, eyes fluttering open with a disagreeing grumble. 

He sighs after a pensive moment, expression reluctant. “I would.. set my alarm really early so I didn’t run into you in the morning.” He admits guiltily, avoiding your eyes. “I knew we woke up at the same time.”

Your heart feels a twinge at the confession, suddenly reminded of the heart-wrenching reality you two lived in for weeks before last night. You grow dispirited, laying back down on his chest solemnly.

You remain trapped in a reflective silence with him, emotion and memories from the troubling days running through both your minds. He draws soft circles on your shoulder blade, and you aimlessly trace the muscles of his torso. 

“You know.. all of that seems funny now.” You say with a small chuckle, but your heart holds a weight of regret. “We were really stupid.”

“Yeah, really fucking stupid.” Taehyung’s tone is upset, carding a hand through his mussed hair with a deep exhale. “I never thought.. we could fight like that.”

“Me neither, I just..” You began, growing open with him. “I said those things.. because I was scared.” 

You take a deep breath, chest afflicted with a world of guilt as your lips quiver, voice weakening. “But I know that’s not an excuse.. and you didn’t deserve what I said or did to you, Taehyung. It was all my fault, and I’ll always be sorry. I’m sorry I ruined everything and didn’t listen to you.”

Taehyung’s heart grows sad, hugging you to him tightly as he soothes your back. “Please, Y/N, don’t say that. I did deserve it, and I’m sorry. I should’ve never made those accusations. I didn’t even let you talk, I was wrong for getting so jealous.” He reprimands himself, growing frustrated. 

“Hey, Tae, I should’ve been more clear and been more conscientious about him too.” You admit yourself, pressing a kiss to his bare chest and rubbing his honey-coloured skin. “It’s not your fault, you had good reason.”

“No, I shouldn’t have gotten so possessive. It’s just..” He took a frustrated breath, halting himself before the guilt quite literally ate him up. “I could tell how he felt about you.. and it pissed me off. It’s not that I don’t trust you, I don’t trust other men around you, Y/N. Not after..” His words trail, mind seeming occupied, troubled.

“What was it, Tae? What’s on your mind?” You encase his waist and tug him closer for comfort, to hear the meditative sound of his heartbeat, feel his chest vibrate whenever his deep voice speaks. 

“Not after that motherfucker Kiseok and what he did to you.” Taehyung casts a hand over his eyes, his tone revealing struggle. “I’ve been beating myself up ever since you got hurt hitting him. I can’t.. get the image of him handling you like that out of my head. Your hand bleeding, the way you shook in my arms cause of your nightmare of him..” He wavers, a storm of emotion cast over him. 

“Seeing you in pain.. it all fucking haunts me. And I still can’t believe I couldn’t protect you when I swore to myself I always would.” He continues with an ironic laugh, his hand on your back growing firmer, more desperate. “So when I saw you with that fucker- Alex, I mean, I just lost it. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let another man just touch you however he chose again.”

You soften at his sentiment, your eyes growing vulnerable as his low cadence weakens. “It’s not just about you being my wife anymore or some fucking Kim reputation, Y/N, you looked uncomfortable.. and I never want to see you scared. I wasn’t going to let something like the charity event happen again. I just.. I wanted you to be safe.” 

His confession nearly tears you apart, your hand finding his free one against his stomach and lacing your fingers together, admiring how the shape of his hand fits in yours. It catches Taehyung’s attention, clasping your daintier hand in his large palm. 

“Don’t think I didn’t notice these, either..” He smooths over your bandages, feeling mountainous guilt for the umpteenth time. 

“You’ll never understand, Y/N.. every time I saw your hand..” He pauses, swallowing a lump in his throat. “It hurt every day.. to know it should’ve been my hand.” 

You feel tears prick your eyes when he brings your bandages before his lips, peppering gentle kisses over the wounds. The hurt in his voice was devastating, and you thought it a miracle someone could feel such deep sorrow for you. 

You rise, emotion wavering once you find his guilt-ridden eyes. “Tae..”

And in a split second, you forget the useless words of that fight, the God awful things you did to one another. You cave, diving for his neck and nuzzling into his collarbone, arms grappling around him desperately. 

And you immediately feel Taehyung coil his arms around you, hugging your naked body on top of his, long legs tangling with yours. His lips ghost your hair, the bridge of your nose pressed against his throat as you cling together for dear life; as intimate and tightly as two bodies are allowed, eliminating all forms of space just to feel the familiar warmth of each other’s skin.  

“It shouldn’t have been anyone’s hand, Taehyung. I’m okay now, I promise.” You embrace him tighter, basking in the comforting sensation of being wrapped up in his arms. “I didn’t know you felt this way, not at all.” 

Taehyung lightly smiles to himself, fingertips whisked away in your hair as he gently holds the back of your head. “Of course I do. You’re my Princess, Y/N.. and I promised I’d protect you.” Taehyung closes his eyes in contentment, flashing back to your wedding day that seemed like ages ago. “I’ll always take care of you, remember?”

He presses a kiss to the crown of your head, arms clutching you somehow tighter and flowers bloom in the spaces between your ribs. As though each of their petals leaves behind tendrils of reasons for your heart to beat, to feel your chest lighten and your lonely, black and white world to burst with an array of colours. 

All because of him. 

“You were right, I was uncomfortable with Alex.. but not just because of the way he was touching me.” You decide to spill, becoming honest. “He was.. saying things about you, Taehyung.”

You lift off his chest and prop yourself up, naked breasts resting against him as he peers at you with attentive eyes, running a mindless hand against your back. “He said awful things, Tae.. things that were so wrong.” 

“What did he say?” 

The disgusting memory still frolics around in your mind, and now juxta positioned with the sweet, gentle way Taehyung made love to you last night, soothed you through your trauma with sex after Kiseok and has always treated you with the utmost, tender care; turbulent emotion caught the back of your throat. 

“He.. he thought that you hurt me.” You couldn’t meet his eyes, clutching the duvet over your chest. “He thought you hurt my hand.. that you were abusive. I couldn’t stand that.. I couldn’t tolerate him saying that. So we argued, we argued until.. that happened.”  

You needed to breathe to calm down, and Taehyung seemed to detect your emotion, fingertips canvasing up to lightly massage the back of your head. “He doesn’t even know you, he didn’t know a single thing about you but he kept saying all those awful things. I was so mad, Taehyung.. you’re nothing like that. You’re anything but abusive or cruel..” You trail because you know cruel, you know cruel treatment at the hands of another man and Taehyung’s nothing like that, that he’s 100x the man Kiseok will ever be. 

“You’re so, so gentle and kind, so warm and loving and a caring husband.. how could-how could somebody say that about you?”

Your voice breaks as your eyes well up, alarming Taehyung. “Hey, shh, Princess. It’s okay if he said those things about me, I’m more concerned about you.” He soothes you, his calm cadence pacifying. 

“Everything’s fine now, right? You’re fine, we’re both fine and everything’s okay. We don’t need what other people think, Y/N, none of that matters.” He brings a hand to your soft cheek, brushing your hair behind your ear, gazing at you as though you held a constellation in your irises.

“Even if we did it in a really dumb way, we know how we feel about each other now, and that’s all that matters.” His voice is consoling, and you feel the burdening weight lift right off your chest.

“You’re right,” You smile, blinking away your tears as you laugh. “They do say love makes you stupid.”  Taehyung’s lips break into a small chuckle here, the image beautiful. 

“And stupid we are.” He brings your lips to his, slowly, gently connecting them for a warm kiss, smiling as you mouth at each other softly. 

You’re enjoying the languid feeling of his plushy lips against yours until you break away, something coming to mind. “Tae, wait.” 

“What is it, Jagiya?” 

You pause, feeling your insides grow giddy. “Isn’t it crazy?” 

He tilts his head. “What is?”

“We’re in love, Taehyung.”  

You watch Taehyung’s heart-shaped cupid’s bow curve into the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen, the content in his eyes near magical, and you can only feel your heart glow with uncontrollable love for him.

“Yeah.. we’re in love, Y/N.” He says, leaving you both to do that thing you always do; look for the sole purpose of looking. Your heart feels like it’ll explode with fireworks, and Taehyung’s never felt so light in his entire life. 

His cheeks rise into a playful smile as he strokes the apple of yours, biting his lip before he suddenly attacks you with his arms, pulling you onto him. “C’mere, you angel.” 

You tumble into Taehyung, his lips pressing heartfelt kisses all over your face and it tickles you, giggling incessantly. “Taehyung, okay, Taehyung!” 

He’s chuckling, the sound mellifluous as he never lets up his sweet, affectionate onslaught. “Tae, alright! Wait, just wait a second!” 

He stops, peering at you with smiling eyes. “What? I can’t shower the love of my life with kisses?” 

Your cheeks instantly heat up, never having thought you’d be the love of Kim Taehyung’s life, let alone hear him say it. You sputter as a timid result, lips just about pouting. “N-no, I just wanted.. to ask something.” 

You’re bashful, and it only makes Taehyung dote on you, gently booping your nose with his. “God, you’re so fucking cute. Go on.” 

You become even more flustered, avoiding his eyes as you tentatively speak. “Angel.. that’s new.” You begin, lips curving into a sheepish grin as your eyes meet his. “Why do you call me angel?”

Taehyung’s simply grinning, gazing over your delicate features this early morning, lightly playing with your hair. “I used to pray to angels for comfort. I felt like.. they were always there you when things got rough. I haven’t talked to them in a long time, so I thought I lost mine..”

He pauses, smoothing his warm palm over the small of your back as the other finds your chin, holding you gently.

“But she was right here all along.”

Your chest fills with an entire zoo, the affection of his words and actions so enrapturing your lips fall into an adorable quiver. There aren’t words that can accurately depict the power of your emotions or what you feel for him, so all you can do is capture his jaw, crashing your lips onto his passionately.

He hums indulgently into the kiss, his leg coming up as you lean into him, the sheets becoming messier the more you deepened the kiss.

You mouth at him pleasurably as Taehyung’s grip on your torso tightens, adoring each and every inch of your skin that contacts his. You prop off his mouth for air, viewing the light glisten and pink hue of his full lips.

“You know.. I love your lips.” You say mindlessly, running the pad of your thumb over them. “Seems that list of things I like about you is gonna get really long.” You giggle, Taehyung pressing his lips to your thumb for a delicate kiss. You then feel the light stubble speckling along Taehyung’s perfect chin and jawline, and you can’t help but find it the sexiest thing on planet Earth. 

“Oh God, I love this.” You feel over the small scratchiness, and bite your lip at how masculine and attractive he appears, marveling at him. 

Taehyung chuckles through his nose. “What else are you adding? Other than my hot muscles and mind-blowing fucking capabilities?” You roll your eyes, lightly hitting his chest.

“Shut up, how could I ever forget these.” Your hands canvas down to his bulky biceps, squeezing at the firm muscles. “You been working out, Kim?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ve always worked out,” Taehyung says as he draws you close by your shoulder, lips against yours when he speaks. “Though with a pretty wife I need to rail every night I guess I should go more often.” And he connects your lips for an amorous kiss, his large hands traversing down your back to cup your ass greedily, palming at the perfect flesh.

“God, I love your ass.” He revels in between kisses, lightly rocking your body against his. 

“Mm, that’s so romantic.” 

“I’ll have you know I can be very romantic.”

You hum satisfyingly into his mouth, disconnecting much to your dismay. “There are more things I like about you that aren’t just your body, but if that’s what we’re talking, my favourite would definitely have to be..” you trail as your hand glides down his stomach, eventually grabbing his semi-hard cock through his boxers.

You watch him sigh out underneath you, throwing his head back lightly and you relish in the way his sculpted neck muscles stretch. His eyes fall back to yours, having changed into a desirous red.

“Already want my cock again, babe? Last night wasn’t enough for you?”

You lower yourself to his lips, tone seductive and teasing. “I’ll never get enough of you.”

Taehyung cracks the lightest of smirks before you kiss again, adding more pressure to your groping and it has him groaning, arousal coursing through his veins.

Suddenly he secures his hands on your torso and rolls you both over in a flash. Now you’re the one underneath, Taehyung propped on an elbow above you as he holds the junction of your waist, other cradling your cheek.

His eyes are devilish, smirk borderline evil as he peers down at you playfully. “If we’re only talking body, other than your pretty face, my favourite’s always gonna be..”

He similarly trails, canvassing his slender hand down your body until he cups your sex in his palm, gasping tremulously as Taehyung revels in your breathy little reaction.

His fingers begin feeling at your folds, rubbing and gliding through your little cunt with a satisfied hum. “Mmm, Princess still wet from last night? Or do I just turn you on that easily?”

Your hands brace against his chest, nails lightly digging into his skin as you lightly moan, voice tentative. “B-both...” 

You sigh out at the attention he supplies your clit with, the heated pressure lighting up your insides. 

“Tae.. I..” Suddenly he dips down to mouth at your neck, the added stimulation of his devouring kisses shutting your eyes, sighing out and hugging him to your throat. “Taehyung.. what-what are you doing?” 

“Making sure my kids are still in here” He mumbles against your skin, distracted as his fingertips tease your entrance and he sucks on your neck. 

He begins kissing down your body, lips adoring every inch of skin he can manage until he’s at your abdomen, feeling your core ignite with arousal at his hot breath so near, though your brain starts flashing alarms. 

“T-Tae, what are you.. what..” You can’t even speak, sighing out at the burning pleasure his lips send as he suddenly brings his fingers to glide through your folds. 

“It’s morning, Princess, I need my breakfast.” 

You feel your insides constrict at his words, his lips just above your battered mound as he begins pushing your legs back, asking huskily. “Are you still sensitive from last night, baby?”

“Y-yes, Tae..” You manage to whimper, the ache in your groins too prominent. “I’m-I’m still sore.” You warn him, and Taehyung instantaneously rips his mouth away, coming back up to you all concerned. 

“Oh fuck, I’m so sorry, Princess. Are you okay?” His eyes are blanketed with genuine worry, smoothing over your tummy.

You nod with a light smile, hands capturing his face. “I’m always okay with you.” 

Taehyung’s heart does a somersault, lips cracking into that little content smile of his. “You know, I’d say sorry for fucking you so hard, but I needed to satisfy my wife’s needs, I can’t be held guilty.” 

You roll your eyes. “Please, you were practically jumping at the chance to finally put it in me.” 

“Woah, hey, I like to call it making love, for your information.” Taehyung defends. “And I clearly recall you being the first one to come onto me at the club.” 

You let out a scandalized gasp. “I did not. I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” 

“C’mon, you’re the one who started touching me during poker, you can’t have bad memory already, Princess, you’re too young.” 

You huff. “Please, a little domestic touching set you off?” 

“Did you see the dress you were wearing?” He retorted. “Fuck, I almost ripped it off your body before we even arrived, you had me rock hard the whole night.”

You grow condescending. “Mmm, no wonder you pulled the first move by getting me on your lap and making out with me-” 

All of a sudden Taehyung’s hand comes down on your cunt and unexpectedly slaps it, causing your body to jolt and gasp sharply, peering back at him shocked. “Kim Taehyung, did you just slap my pussy?” 

“Depends on if you like it.” His grin is smug and irises painted with mischief, smoothing over your inner thigh as he hovers over you. 

You enjoy the ripple it sends through your insides, crawling up and collecting in the pit of your stomach that somehow revs with arousal. You drape your arms around his neck, pulling him close. “I like anything you like” 

And your lips connect for the umpteenth time, absolutely never tired of feeling the weight of his perfect body press you down into the mattress. Your fingers inch into his hair, delightfully tugging the dark tresses just to hear Taehyung  groan against your collarbone, who’s already distracted with kissing your body. 

He’s in the valley of your breasts, sighing out at the pleasure that electrifies your veins until Taehyung suddenly peers up at you, shifting towards a nipple and letting out a hot breath against a hardened peak. 

You arch, moaning out gratifyingly. He smirks devilishly at your reaction, your half-lidded gaze meeting his and he takes the opportunity to tug the sheets over both your bodies, giggling when he begins fooling around with you under the satin fabrics. 

His lips kiss around your naked breast, lips finally wrapping around your nipple as the sheets settle on your lewdly tangled bodies. You immediately moan out, arching into his mouth as you massage his scalp with your fingertips, on cloud nine as he perfectly sucks at your nipples. 

He juts his tongue out for puppy licks, purposefully prodding your nipple with the tip of his tongue and it has your taxed cunt somehow pulsing, heat collecting in your gut. 

You’re getting lost in his ministrations when suddenly a phone rings somewhere in the room, catching your attention. Taehyung also stops, knitting his eyebrows together. “Who the fuck is calling me at nearly 6 in the morning?” 

“It’s your phone?” 

“Yeah, your phone’s in my jacket pocket downstairs, remember?” 

“Ooh.” You do recall from last night, curious eyes meeting his as you also catch sight of your breast glistening with Taehyung’s saliva. “Are you gonna pick up?” 

“No, I’m with my wife.” Taehyung declares, getting right back to licking and sucking your nipple as he comes up to knead your other breast, fondling you graciously. “They can fuck off.” 

You sigh out in sheer ecstasy, the pressure of Taehyung’s ministrations and skillful tongue coaxing your essence out of you like clockwork. Your moans drown out the ringing, listening to his phone come to a quiet until it roars to life again, his ringtone filling the room. 

Taehyung grumbles against your skin, actively ignoring it as he speeds up his movements, hands only smoothing and circling over your flesh and nipples, keeping in mind your sensitive folds. 

You’re writhing underneath him, pleasure leaking into your bloodstream like a drug. “Taehyung..” You moan, a repeated sound you can’t help but make, call the man that makes you his just by the beckoning of a finger. 

Then his phone goes off again. 

He groans against you increasingly annoyed, focusing more on licking at your breasts, going harder, biting and sucking skin where he revitalizes his already emblazoned purple marks on you. You’re enjoying yourself again when his phone rings a fourth time in a row, finally getting on Taehyung’s nerves. 

“Oh my fucking God,” He swears, eyes burning with frustration. “Baby, answer my phone and tell them I’m busy, maybe then they’ll get the fucking hint.” 

Taehyung’s huffing as he rolls his eyes is actually endearing, sincerely frustrated he was being interrupted and you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell, fingers whisked away in his lovely hair. “Where’s your phone, baby?” 

“Dress pants.” He informs as he returns to his delicious work.

You moan again, adoring the feeling of his wet mouth on you as you remove the sheets, poking your hand out to haphazardly reach for his discarded dress pants on the floor. 

You feel around until you sense the buzzing device, quickly nabbing it as you pet Taehyung’s hair, catching view of the contact for a second before answering. 

“Hello? Tae, dude, I’ve been calling for like 10 fucking minutes-” 

“Hey, Jungkook.” You greet him brightly, mood painted over with rose-coloured glasses as you feel Taehyung pop off your breast, confused eyes peeking up at you.

“Oh, Y/N? Is that you?” 

“You’d be right on the money, Mr. Jeon.” 

“Oh-morning, Y/N! How are-” Suddenly the phone’s snatched from you and in Taehyung’s large palm, pressing it to his ear as he hovers over your chest. 

“Jungkook, why the fuck are you calling me at 6 in the morning and interrupting my time with my gorgeous wife?” Taehyung scolds. “Adult stuff is happening here, jackass.”

You stifle a giggle, carding your fingers through Taehyung’s fluffy locks. “Haha, nice to goddamn know last night worked out well for you two, my life’s turned into a fucking crisis overnight!” 

“Jungkook, what is so important you had to interrupt me being in between my wife’s legs?” You’re scandalized at Taehyung’s remark and smack his shoulder, to which he lets out a guilty laugh. 

“Ugh, don’t get all dirty with me. This is serious! My life is literally in shambles, I’m going to die.” You could hear how dramatic Jungkook was being, finding him nothing short of an icon. 

Taehyung sighs heavily, his head drooping as he musters up his mental strength to speak to his younger friend. “Why are you gonna die, Jungkook? What’s up?” 

You’re left to watch Taehyung listen, thinking he looks drop dead handsome this early morning, bringing your small palms to Taehyung’s face admiringly and cupping his cheeks, guiding him to your lips. He complies, happily sealing your mouths together in between the call. 

“Dude, okay, so while you were busy practically shooting a porno on the dance floor with Y/N last night-” Taehyung props off your lips, pulling the most incredulous expression. 

“What the fuck? We weren’t shooting a porno, we were just making out.” 

You hear Jungkook bellow out a laugh on the other end. “Tae.. if your making out is nearly fucking each other right on the dance floor, then sure. Though then again, I’m not opposed to watching you two go at it-” 

“Jungkook, why the fuck did you call me?” 

“Oh, right! So basically, I met this hot girl. Absolutely gorgeous, by the way. We met on the dance floor and holy shit, did she know how to move. Anyway, unlike you two we shot our porno back at my place and Tae.. it was the best sex I’ve ever-hyung, are you even listening to me?” Taehyung instead became distracted with making out with you, mouth moving against yours sensually as you both relish in each other’s lips. 

“Yeah, yeah.. I’m listening..” Taehyung dismisses as he leans into your body and deepens the kiss, tongue dipping into your mouth as you meet him in the middle. You’re falling into Taehyung’s perfect abyss until Jungkook’s loud voice suddenly cries out. 

“Hello! Don’t you two dare get couply with me, I’m having a mid-life crisis!” Taehyung then pops off your mouth, wetting his already dewy lips with an annoyed scrunch of his nose. 

“Dude, you’re only 23, this isn’t a mid-life crisis, just a fucking crisis, goddammit.” You honestly feel sorry for Jungkook as Taehyung instead wants to revel in you, the worry in Jungkook’s tone apparent enough that your care for him overtakes you, snatching the phone from Taehyung and pressing it to your ear. 

“Hey Jungkook, it’s me. Go on, what happened to you? Why do you sound so scared?” Your concern is genuine, though it has Taehyung jutting his bottom lip out in a light pout, resting his chin on your chest. 

“Princesss, give me the phone back, why’d you stop kissing me?” He’s far too cute for you right now with that pout on his lips, heart leaping with the fluffiest of uwu’s until Jungkook’s voice snaps you out of it. 

“Y/N, thank God. Finally a sensible person.” 

“What’s up, Jungkook? Did something happen with your hookup?” 

“No, I need to tell you the crisis. So I had mind-blowing sex, yes, but then I woke up a couple hours ago and tell me how I heard my parents talking about getting me an arranged marriage, an arranged marriage for fuck’s sake!” Jungkook shouts as though he’s been done a great injustice, Taehyung and you both quirking a brow at the news. 

“What? You’re getting an arranged marriage?” 

“Yeah, my parents were just talking about it and I’ve been having a mental breakdown for an hour now, what am I supposed to do? I can’t fucking get married.” 

You’re honestly baffled, searching for the best words. “Shit, you’re only 23, too, why would they be marrying you off?” 

“I don’t know, I heard something about how she’s the daughter of some what-its-face CEO that our family knows.” Jungkook relays as you mindlessly play with Taehyung’s hair, attempting to not pay attention to his adorable puppy eyes begging for attention.  

“I’m gonna throw up, Y/N. I can’t do this, marriage is literally my kryptonite and I can’t get married, I can’t. What if the girl’s some stuck up brat? What if I hate her? Oh God.. what if she’s some goody two-shoes? What if-”

“Shh, Jungkook, calm down.” You speak pacifyingly. “Look, I know it sucks and you didn’t agree to this, but maybe the girl won’t be so bad? Maybe you’re being matched because-oh fuck, Kim Taehyung, don’t you dare put your mouth there right now.” You peer down to find Taehyung gazing at you with playful eyes, nearing his mouth towards a nipple yet again and you’re already writhing underneath his hot breath.

“What? I can’t have my breakfast, thought I’d at least have a snack.” And Taehyung boldly latches onto a peak, tongue playing with your breast again and you use every ounce of your strength to not sigh so audibly. 

“Ugh, could you guys not get disgusting in front of me? I’m still having a fucking crisis here.”

“Right.. right, Jungkook.” You’re still whipped for Taehyung’s mouth on your tits, arching your back as you absorb the heavenly stimulation. You’re so distracted you don’t realize nobody’s responded to Jungkook, Taehyung suddenly perking up. 

“Jungkook, dude, look. Arranged marriages aren’t even that bad, look at how mine turned out.” 

“That’s because Y/N is literally perfect, you asshole.” Jungkook drawls on his end. 

Taehyung quirks his eyebrows with impressed lips. “I mean, I can’t argue with that.” He admits proudly before licking a languid stripe around your areola, stifling your fucked out moan when he does.

“Fucking hell, you guys are just a special case, too. And it’s only because Y/N is literally so perfect, and caring, and cute, and cool, not to mention a ride or die. I mean, who the fuck throws a right hook like her? And for your sorry ass? She’s literally the epitome of wifey material, hot and sexy-” 

“Jeon, shut the fuck up before I personally murder you.” Taehyung’s rebuking voice is actually serious, and you don’t know whether to laugh and feel flattered or scared for Jungkook. 

“I mean, he isn’t wrong. I’m pretty cool.” You egg on the conversation. “I also have nice eyes, don’t I? Not to mention my plushy lips? And my cute height, too, Mr. Kim?” You can’t help but giggle through your words remembering his little list of things he likes about you. 

 “You’re so sweet, Jungkook. You’re like the perfect package, all endearing but then you have muscles like that too? Do you work out?” You join in on the fun but Taehyung narrows his eyes sharply, nabbing the phone and pulling it away from your ear with a scolding, deep tone. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Princess. You’re naked right now, and I have access to every inch of your body.” He’s hovering over you now, his strong brows quirked in challenge as he rolls his tongue on the inside of his cheek, smirk on his lips. 

“Want me to touch you while he’s on the phone? Let him hear the way you moan for me? Maybe give him a sneak peek of what happened last night? All I remember is you digging your nails into my back and riding me until-” 

“Okay, Tae, shut up! God, you’re so annoying.” You puff your cheeks, crossing your arms with annoyance. 

Taehyung bellows out a genuine laugh, admiring your cheeks until Jungkook’s voice cuts you both off. 

“Damn, Tae, I’m gonna get turned on over here, you know I have a voyeurism kink. Invite me over next time you’re going at it, I like watching my porn live-” 

“Jungkook, you’re dead to me. Goodbye.” 

“Wait, wait! I’m serious, Tae. What do I do about this goddamn marriage?!” 

“Suck it up and marry the damn girl, for fuck’s sake. She’s probably not even that bad, if anything I feel bad for her, you’re the asshole, Jungkook.” Taehyung retorts. “Watch you end up falling in love with her, I’m gonna be there to say I told you so.” 

“But-!” And Jungkook’s cut off as Taehyung ends the call and places his phone on silent, tossing it onto his nightside table. 

His dark eyes then fall to you, a scary, scrutinizing crease to his eyebrows. “Now, you.” 

You’re pouting innocently, eyes darting every which way as you speak tentatively. “Um.. I love you?” 

You’re not even given a second before Taehyung latches his mouth onto your lips.

Your pussy lips, to be exact. 

You let out a sharp moan, the wet sensation of his tongue in your folds so delicious, so exhilarating but your groins ache the second you need to be held open. “Tae!” 

“What’d you say about Jungkook? He’s sweet? And has nice muscles? Wanna say that while I eat you out until you cry?”

It’s a rhetorical question, and Taehyung never gives you time for a response as he latches right back on and suckles your clit, the sensitivity nearly melting into a tantalizing pleasure before you’re tapping out. 

“Okay, okay! Taehyung! Don’t you have work? Stop eating me out and get out of bed for Christ’s sakes.” You’re begging in complaint, fingers tugging at his tresses. 

Taehyung then pops off your cunt, peering up at you with amorous, scheming eyes as he kisses your clit. “Princess likes to play games but can’t handle the punishment? Such a little brat.” 

Heat collects in your face and you scrutinize him in between your legs, bringing your foot to his shoulder and kicking him back. “Get out of our bed and get to work, Kim. Can’t have everyone knowing you were a bottom getting your cock rode on last night.” 

He falters at your push as you evade his eyes, Taehyung’s lips pouting in annoyance. “Jheez, fine, forgot my Princess was so violent.” He crawls out of bed and stands to his feet. 

You catch sight then of his God-gifted length tucked inside his boxers, Adonis-like body glowing in the sunrise and it’s hard to not ogle; he’s truly the most beautiful man to exist on planet Earth. 

And he’s your goddamn husband.

You snap yourself out of it and grow angry at his remark, jumping out of bed to pounce on him but your legs turn into the epitome of jelly. 

You lose your balance as your knees press into the mattress, nearly falling forward until Taehyung swiftly catches you in his arms. “Woah, Y/N, are you okay?” 

You’re in shock, you knew you were sore, you could feel it all this morning but right now? It felt like your legs were non-existent, legitimately incapable of walking and rendered near useless.

“N-no.. I think, I don’t think I can walk.” You feel your legs shake as you try to balance yourself on your knees, clearly too weak for your body weight. “Oh my God.. my legs.” 

“Are they sore?” 

“Sore? I can’t feel them, you asshole! Why are you such a sex beast?” You genuinely complain, whining at the sheer inability for your legs to move and it has Taehyung laughing.

“Oh my God, can you actually not walk?” 

You cross your arms and pout. “No.” 

“I mean, I did say I’d fuck you so hard you wouldn’t walk for days.” He shrugs, cracking a smile at your naked, small self in the messy sheets. “Don’t blame me, last I remember you wanted me to fuck you like I meant it.”

You roll your eyes. “Fuck off, not like you weren’t hopping at the idea of me riding you, at least your legs aren’t fucked up. I can’t walk!” You plead your case, Taehyung growing too soft to deny you.

“Okay, okay, forgot my Princess was needy too.” You nearly smacked at his torso but Taehyung chuckles and dodges you. “Alright, I’m sorry. I’ll help you.”

He reached for your hands, grasping them gently in his palms as your legs wobble with weakness, growing flimsy as you attempt to escape the bed. 

You peer up at him with a pout as you hold on, “Tae.. my legs.” Your sad eyes are genuinely worried for your walking capabilities, and Taehyung’s heart is wooed, simply a weak man for you as his heart softens. 

“C’mere, my baby, hook onto me.” Taehyung leaned down to your height as his arms encase your body, patting your side-boob encouragingly as your arms drape around him.

In a second, Taehyung lifts you up in his arms bridal style, lightly yelping when you settled in his strong hold. You peered up at him with round eyes, questioning. “What are you doing?”

He simply grins ear to ear, holding you near and dear. “We’re gonna take a nice, warm bath for you and then a shower.” He already began walking your bare bodies towards his palace of a bathroom, getting all shy at his affection.

“Y-you don’t have to hold me. I’m heavy-”

“Angel, you’re as light as a feather, and you can’t walk because of me, let me take care of you.” He speaks pacifyingly, and the butterflies in your stomach causes your face to adorn a peachy blush, curling into his chest to hide. “Okay.”

He laughs happily, cuddling you tighter. “What’s my Princess like? Warm baths with bubbles and scents? Do you like candles?” 

“Y-you don’t have to do all that for me, Tae. I’ll just take a shower in my bathroom.” Your voice is muffled by his bare chest, hiding behind your hands. 

Taehyung clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “Nope, you’re taking a bath first, it’ll relieve the pain in your legs.” He’s just so thoughtful, and you can’t help but have the stupidest grin on your face. 

“We’ll take a shower after to get you all cleaned up, and I’ll dress you.” Taehyung informs as he walks you both into his bathroom, suddenly reminded of your last horror in here. 

“Oh, nuh uh, we’re not taking a shower in your shower. It’s a shower from hell, the spawn of Satan, absolutely evil.” 

Taehyung snorts, cracking up at your traumatized expression. “Babe, that’s cause you don’t know how to use a shower, but I do.”

“No, it’s the worst- wait, what does have to do with me taking a shower?” 

Taehyung quirks a brow. “Because we’ll be showering.. together?” 

“Oh..” You digest the information, until you understand what he actually means. “Oh, we’re showering together, at the same time?” 

“Yeah, unless you’re not comfortable..?” Taehyung gauges your reaction, but you immediately sputter. 

“No, no, I’m comfortable. I just don’t know if I can take shower sex right now-” 

“Hey, baby,” He grows soft. “I’m not getting you in there to have sex. I wanna wash you up, I don’t think you can stand on your own legs long enough to shower by yourself.” The concern on his face is so heart-warming, and your eyes go round with adoration. 

“Y-you’re gonna wash me up?” 

“Of course, I said I’d take care of you.” He then presses a deep kiss to your forehead as he gazes at you, eyes shimmering with something you could now finally, thankfully identify. 

Love. 

Your heart soars, the feeling of being in his arms like no other, and your palm comes up to hold his cheek, thumb stroking his skin. 

“Okay.” 

It isn’t long before Taehyung seats you on the edge of the grand bathtub, throws a robe on himself and begins drawing your warm bath, obviously not without landing at least a thousand kisses on you and soaking you in bubbly water. 

“Kim Taehyung, put me down!” You yell as Taehyung had unabashedly thrown you over his shoulder as you descended the stairs together, having already spent nearly over an hour fooling around in the shower.

Taehyung’s grip on you is strong, holding onto his torso for dear life as he steps down with you. “Nope, I told you to stop doing that cute giggly thing and moaning whenever I tried washing your boobs. This is your punishment.”

The memory of him groping them teasingly as he crowded you against the shower wall pulsates through your insides, remembering the ghost of his wet lips, the beads of water that dripped down his body and soaked his dark locks. You’re lost in the flashbacks of him sucking on your throat when you reply to him, Taehyung finally stepping out onto the main floor.

“What the fuck, Tae? It’s not my fault you kept touching and kissing them, didn’t know loverboy was so whipped for-ow!”

Taehyung brought a hand down on an ass cheek to smack it, carrying you towards the kitchen as you dangle over his shoulder in just underwear and his button-up from last night. “What was that for?”

“Call me loverboy one more time and I’m bending you over our kitchen counter for spanking.” He chastises seriously as he brings you down to your feet.

You wobble steadying your inner equilibrium, addressing him with narrowed eyes. “You’re so annoying, I can’t even tell if you’re an ass or tits guy.”

“If it’s anything on you, I’m both.” He shrugs, adjusting the lapels of his grey Hugo Boss suit he’s chosen for today, and when paired with his sexily parted, fluffy hair that curled just before his brows, not to mention the Rolex and tie he’s got on, you were left a drooling, horny mess.

“Mm, wanna add that to the list of things you like about me, Kim? Didn’t know satin, lace, and some ass and tits made you such a weak man.” You snarked, continuing on your teasing rambling. “All talk about being a dom when I could get you on your knees for my-”

Taehyung then captures your wrists and begins tugging you towards the kitchen. “That’s it. Counter, spanking, now.” 

“Taehyung-!” You start fighting against him, fooling around as you both wrestle for power. You’re laughing like a daft idiot as Taehyung pushes back your hands, eventually twirling you around and hugging your back flush against his chest. His eager fingers slip underneath your shirt and tickle your sides, giggles incessantly spilling from you as he nuzzles his face into your hair. 

“Taehyung, wait, I’m ticklish, wait!” You’re near crying of laughter, attempting to fight his hold but Taehyung’s beautiful laugh means he’s not stopping anytime soon. 

“There she goes being a little brat again, wanna challenge me now?” He’s lifting you off the floor before he starts getting handsy, large palms groping your breasts before a sudden cough suddenly shatters your little world. 

You both stop dead in your tracks, seeing Mrs. Choi standing in the middle of the kitchen with prongs in her hands, a little shocked expression on her face. 

You and Taehyung immediately separate, pulling his shirt over your very bare legs and Taehyung quickly shuffles you behind him, concealing your naked half. “Mrs. Choi..” He coughs awkwardly, stepping towards the counter. 

“What have you prepared today? Where’s Mrs. Seo?” 

Taehyung tugs you towards the island where some cut up fruit sits, Mrs. Choi having been tossing the fruit salad. “She’s just started on the laundry, Mr. Kim.” Taehyung smiles at her as he picks up a strawberry and bites at it. 

He picks at a kiwi as well and offers it to you, your hands clasping his as you accept it.

“She actually wanted to ask, Mr. Kim. Um.. are the clothes on the floor in the main area meant for washing.. as well?” Taehyung and yourself halt smiling at each other to instead widen your eyes, last night’s rampant escapade dawning on both your minds. 

You can tell by Mrs. Choi’s tentative voice she knows, and Taehyung clears his throat. “You can put them in the wash, we don’t mind.” He squeezes your hand as he rounds the island, coming up next to Mrs. Choi to land a hand on her small shoulder. 

“Thank you for the preparation, Mrs. Choi. You’re a wonderful chef.” He compliments, to which Mrs. Choi smiles radiantly. 

“Oh dear, Mr. Kim. What flatterer you are.” 

“I’m not flattering, just telling the truth.” He smiles at her, and you can’t help but pout at how kind Taehyung is. Your heart swells in your chest and your hands curl around his bicep, tenderly snuggling into his side.

“I would love to eat breakfast, Mrs. Choi, though I’m afraid I’m already running late for work. I’ll have to unfortunately get something at the office.” Taehyung pokes at another strawberry and eats it, his adorable pout appearing as he chews. 

“That’s alright, Mr. Kim. Please make sure to eat properly at the office, though. I could pack you something if you’d like, as well.” 

“That won’t be necessary, Mrs. Choi. You already do so much, thank you.” He sends a charming smile and you’re a loving mess, Taehyung’s attention turning towards you. 

“Princess, I have to get going, okay? Make sure to have the breakfast Mrs. Choi makes, you need food in your system after drinking yesterday.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, hurriedly checking the time on his watch. 

“Ah, time’s running so fast. I really have to get going. I’ll be home as fast as I can, I promise.” He speaks to you sweetly, pulling you into a side embrace as he plants a final kiss to your hair, releasing you to make his way out of the kitchen before Mrs. Choi calls him back. 

“Mr. Kim, you don’t have to rush so much!” Her sweet eyes then flicker to you, a small smile framing her lips. “Some things are worth being late for.” 

Your heart warms up at her words, Taehyung’s bread cheeks rising as he smiles. “Thank you, Mrs. Choi. Don’t work too hard today.” 

“You really are the best, Mrs. Choi.” You echo him as she grins back delightedly, returning to cutting up more bananas as you follow behind Taehyung to the front foyer, placing his phone on the table to slip on his Testoni shoes. 

“Why do you have to leave me?” Your lips express your gloominess, sweater paws coming out as you shake at him. “Can’t you stay home with me?” 

Taehyung canvasses up to find the saddest of puppy eyes on you, wanting to offer the world to you on a silver platter for the umpteenth time, but he has to sadly go. “Ah, Princess, don’t do that. I have important work to do today and you know your puppy eyes work on me.” 

“That’s whyy, Taehyung.” You whine a little, nagging him as you cling onto his arm. “Why can’t you stay home and just do me instead?” 

He fixes his feet into his shoes and quirks a brow at you, already falling for the way his oversized button-up swallows your body. “Dirty little Princess, aren’t you?”

You pout at him. “Do you really have to work today, Taehyung?” Your eyes are sad, already feeling withdrawal syndrome from him as you hook onto his clothes.

He peers at you with similarly disappointed eyes. “I do, Princess.” He settles onto his feet as his palms find your arms, speaking sweetly. “You know I’d stay with you if I could.” 

You sigh. “I know, I’ll just miss you.” Your hands find his chest, fiddling with his tie as you meet his gaze. 

“I’ll miss you too.” He brings his lips down to peck yours, leaving a small smacking sound before he disconnects. 

“I’ll really try to come home soon, and make sure you take care of yourself in the meantime. I want my wife all rested up.” He smooths your hair gently as he lovingly gazes. 

You smile shyly, face collecting with heat, but also dispiritedly remembering he won’t be with you today. “I really hate this, Tae. I don’t want you to go...” Your mind momentarily canvasses your feelings of being abandoned before, and it has your eyes revealing that hurt.

Taehyung visibly softens, large hands cupping your face meaningfully.  

“I’ll be back, angel. I’m not leaving you.” He brings his forehead to rest against yours, shutting his eyes as he touches noses with you. He feels his chest warm at the action, and unbeknownst to him, your heart equally glows as you relax in his hold, nuzzling closer to him. 

All the God awful things you’ve been through till this point plague Taehyung as he feels your warmth, so he says his next, serious words with all his heart. 

“I’ll never leave you.. Y/N. I never will.” 

And it’s as though he’s attempting to etch his promise from last night inside your heart, to emanate his genuine, tender love into your bones and see that you mean everything to him, that he means what he says. 

And your chest floods with indescribable love for him.  

This time your lips jut forward to kiss him, fingers curling his shirt into your hands as you tippy-toe. He smiles into the kiss, and you release with a content grin as you say. “I’ll never leave either, Taehyung. I wouldn’t for the world.” 

He smiles warmly before regretfully letting you go, tugging on his overcoat as he nabs his keys from the tray and you hand his phone to him. You grasp his winter scarf and drape it around his neck, letting it fall against his lapels. You grip his jacket, tugging him down for a kiss and he meets you in the middle, warm hands capturing your face as he pecks you gingerly. 

He smooshes your cheeks and gives one last kiss before you let go of each other, saying your goodbyes as he nearly reaches for the door, but suddenly stops himself. 

“Oh.. Y/N, one more thing.” 

You tilt your head with confusion, but are unexpectedly interrupted by Taehyung wrapping his arm around you and landing his palm on your lower back, tugging you into his body. 

Your face finds his chest as Taehyung’s aura changes, lips by the crown of your head as his deep voice says. 

“Don’t even think about touching yourself while I’m gone.” 

His hand almost tauntingly squeezes your side, tone so very low you feel yourself quaking as he crowds your space, the proximity arousing just as much as when he speaks. “Or I’ll make sure the punishment you receive is one you’ll never forget.”

A shiver runs down your vertebrae as his hot breath fans you, swallowing as you muster up the courage to speak. “Tae.. I-”

“The only person who’s allowed to make you feel good is me, nobody else.. not even yourself.” His tone is so dark goosebumps blossom across your skin, the heat of his body causing your pathetic heart rate to quicken. 

His authority is so searing you brace your hands against his hard chest, gripping the fabric of his jacket. “O-okay, Taehyung.” 

He then grips you harder, clutching you flush against him as his lips skim down to your ear, voice authoritative. 

“That’s not my correct title, Mrs. Kim.” 

His grip is so tight, your body’s burning up, face flushed as you’re only left to smell his cologne, feel his sweet, heated breath brush your skin. You obey him, the domineering power in his voice enough to rule you. 

“I won’t, Mr. Kim.” 

“You won’t what?” 

You’re beyond heated now, embarrassment flooding your face as you repeat his words. “I-I won’t touch myself while you’re gone.. Mr. Kim.” 

Taehyung then loosens his grip slightly. “Good girl,” he praises, pressing an affectionate kiss to your forehead before his expression turns into a sweet smile. 

And you’re yet again surprised by his duality. 

“I’ll be going now, Princess.” 

You nod understandingly, winded as you catch your breath. “O-okay, drive safely. And have a good day at work.” You caution him, to which he smiles and releases you, securing his keys in his hand as he steps towards the door. 

He pulls it open, just about to slip out until you call him back. “Taehyung, wait!”

He pokes his head back in. “Yes, Jagiya?” 

You can’t help but think your actions and words are so reminiscent of a married couple, getting all bashful about it. You fold your hands behind your back, foot behind the other as you smile from your heart.  

“I love you.”

You see the rare sight of Taehyung with a shy grin, his cheeks rising adorably before he abandons the door altogether and rushes towards you. 

His large palms capture your face in a split second and he collides his lips with yours, peppering a dozen deep, affectionate kisses as he squishes your cheeks. You whine through a giggle, Taehyung finally stopping and regarding you the sweetest of coffee eyes. 

“I love you more, my Princess.”

Your heart melts at the “my”, never having felt someone want you to such a degree. It feels foreign, but good, it feels wonderful and lovely and good. You’re so distracted with thinking you’re caught by surprise when Taehyung draws towards your face again, your eyelashes fluttering shut as his lips plant a soft kiss to your eyelid. 

Your eyes go round, peering up at him. “What was that for?” 

Taehyung grins from ear to ear, warm and sweet. 

“An angel kiss for my angel.” 

Your heart bursts out of your chest, lips pouting as you consider how wonderful he is. Your hands hook around his torso and you smoosh your face against his chest, embracing him with your whole heart, basking in him as the most comfortable, loving space you knew. 

As your home. 

His arms wrap around your shoulders, a hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as his chin rests atop your hair. He squeezes you tight, fingertips whisked away in your soft locks until he detaches, holding your arms as he regards you carefully. 

“I’ll see you soon, okay?”

You nod. “Mm, you too.”  

And with that, Taehyung smooths the wisps of hair around your face affectionately before planting one last kiss to your forehead. He lets go, stepping towards the entrance and turning the knob as he ventures out, shutting the door behind himself. 

It’s funny, actually, because Taehyung is unable to wipe the warm-hearted smile he tries biting away as he unlocks his car, and you’re left on the other side of the door with a rapidly beating heart and warm, flustered cheeks. 

All while wondering what the other is doing. 

It’s quite ironic that despite how large, entertaining and all-exclusive your home with Taehyung was, there’s a certain tendency it has to be boring. 

Or at least, boring when Taehyung isn’t here. 

You’re left to simply lounge around in your master bedroom, flipping through Netflix without a single thing to watch. You laze around, bored out of your mind.

The windows are cast open and a lovely breeze spills in, the feeling blissful to your nearly naked self, (since yes, you’ve still only got on Taehyung’s shirt because it smells just like him, and it feels like he’s holding you). 

You hug his shirt around you, the thought of him flooding your mind; his smile, the way he covers his mouth with his fist when he laughs, the way his lips pout whenever he eats. 

Or the feral way he pounds into you and rearranges your guts, the way his thick cock glides in and out of you as his lips skin down your neck, leaving deep, sensual bites and marks all over your body that shudders with pleasure every time he touches you. 

You feel a bolt of arousal strike your insides.  

Something comes to your mind when you feel your pussy clench at the memory of last night, and you unlock your phone clicking on his contact name. 

You hover over the keyboard, contemplating what you’ll type. He’s been gone for a long time, wondering what he’s up to now. He could be in a meeting, or he could be in his office. 

Nonetheless, your thumbs tap the screen, Taehyung the only thing occupying your mind. 

You : hi

You lay on your back, phone clutched to your chest as you wait for a response. You’re getting nervous you may have interrupted him, until your phone buzzes. 

Taehyung ♡ :  hi :)

It’s stupid what the little smiley face does to you, because all of a sudden you feel like a teenager texting her high school crush, and your heart flutters even more when he texts you next. 

Taehyung ♡ : why did you text me? is something wrong? 

Taehyung ♡ : do you not feel well? 

You bite back an idiotic grin, feeling all giddy inside at how sweet he is. 

You : no, i just wanted to text my handsome husband :) 

There’s a pause where you stare at the screen, awaiting him as you nibble on a finger in anticipation. You’re not sure what he’s thinking or doing, but when you see the little 3 dots appear and his message thereafter, you’re ready to scream into a pillow. 

Taehyung ♡ : i see, what’s my pretty wife up to? 

Taehyung ♡ : i hope she’s still looking cute in my shirt ;)

You rise from your seat with excitement, smiling happily as you get up to your feet and begin walking out of your room, down the corridor. 

You contemplate what to write, aimlessly walking through your second floor until your eyes find his empty study, an idea popping into your head. 

Taehyung’s never admonished or told you to stay away from his study, if anything he’s always let you in. You turn the knob and decide to lounge in his study, never having actually had the time to observe the grand space. 

He had a wall of books, all arranged in alphabetical order and with beautiful bindings. The large window behind his desk provides plentiful sunlight to scatter across the room. His office chair was leather and comfortable, ergonomic now that you take a closer look. His desk was always meticulously well-kept, and you brush a hand over the gorgeous red wood. 

Then you remember what he did to you on this very desk. 

Your core shivers, brought back to reality as you remember he texted you. 

You tap away on your screen, rounding his desk and taking a seat in his chair, the leather cool to the touch. 

You : according to you, i’m always cute, mr. kim 

You : and i’m in your study :) 

Taehyung ♡ : oh, what’re you doing in my study? 

You : thinking about you 

You chew on your bottom lip, pressing send on your next message. 

You : and what you did to me on your desk 

You’re back to fidgeting with your hand, reclining in his chair as you mindlessly spin it around. You wait, unsure of what he’ll say and thinking of a million things. 

Maybe he won’t respond, maybe he’ll cutely laugh it off and change the subject. 

Or maybe he’ll..

Taehyung ♡ : you weren’t a good girl, mrs. kim

Taehyung ♡ : you needed to be disciplined 

Something ignites in your core, something explosive and needy and even though you had your pussy battered just last night, there’s a new idea that tickles your abdomen. 

Something that’ll piss him off. 

And oh, how you love getting on his nerves. 

You : what’s mr. kim doing right now? 

Taehyung ♡ : i’m in a meeting, why?

Well, this is going to be fun. 

You : you know, i can’t stop thinking about the last time i was here 

Taehyung ♡ : and why is that? 

You : i remember wearing more clothes than i am right now 

There’s a pause as your eyes flicker to the doors of his study, the same ones you’d shut and pondered where Mrs. Seo and Choi would be right now. 

It’s the afternoon, and you’ve already had lunch. 

They’re out grocery shopping. 

You smirk, hooking your thumb onto the band of your underwear and fidgeting with the fabric. You remove them as you bite your lip deviously, the useless, dainty material falling to the ground as you’re left with only Taehyung’s shirt on your body. 

The leather of his chair feels cool against your core, and the constant feeling of being engulfed by his shirt and his Invictus cologne leaves you thinking of him.  

You see the three dots on your screen appear then, and not long after his message. 

Taehyung ♡ : what are you wearing right now? 

Your lips line the seam of your mouth, growing mischievous as you cross your bare legs before responding. 

You : nothing 

You wish you could see his reaction, wanting to know what expression paints his face as he reads what you write. Though it’s not hard to imagine what he’s feeling when he texts you next. 

Taehyung ♡ : very funny, y/n, but i gave you one simple rule 

Taehyung ♡ : and you don’t want to disobey me 

Again, you’ve always found it funny Taehyung thinks you’d ever listen to him. 

Because you rarely ever do. 

You : but i think i do, taehyung 

You : you’re all i can think about 

He’s getting to your head, and you feel your insides loosening up to slick your folds. You peel back Taehyung’s shirt from your shoulders, letting it pool around your elbows as you dare to let a hand snake down to your core. 

But just as you’re about to make contact, your phone buzzes. 

Taehyung ♡ : you better stop while i can still forgive you, princess

Taehyung ♡ : my good girl wouldn’t do this, now would she? 

You bite your lip, thinking Taehyung really does say exactly what makes you want to defy him. You turn on the camera and position it to snap a photo of where your shirt on him pools, along with a hand on your stomach that dares to move towards the junction of your groin. 

You press send. 

You : i don’t know, am i a good girl, mr. kim? 

You press send once again. 

You : remember what i said about live photos :)

Taehyung’s day had been relatively boring. It was a real shame he ran a company, because otherwise Taehyung would’ve rather been home railing you all night long.

He was seated wearily at his meeting, trying hard to not fall asleep considering last night’s escapade. He then flashes back to it all, the skin against skin, hearing your breathy little moans trying to manage him inside you, the eager way you rode and dug your nails into his back. 

He was getting lost in remembering the way you begged for him, lightly smirking to himself at the memory when his phone screen lights up in the dark of the meeting hall. He quirks a brow, lowering the brightness of his phone as he catches view of your contact. 

He sees the simple message, a content smile inching onto his lips as he replies to you. And he keeps replying, revved on by your conversation until he gets the notification of you having sent a photo to him.

He carefully opens the image, and it’s his biggest mistake. 

Taehyung nearly gets up from his seat when he gets the photo, clasping his palm over his mouth in disbelief. He catches the attention of some board members around him, placing his phone face down in his lap as he swiftly plays off the reaction with a cough. 

He lifts the phone again mindfully, ensuring nobody can see the content as he sits fairly above everyone else in the grand hall. He doesn’t know whether he’s extremely pissed or extremely turned on right now, never having contemplated you’d sext him, let alone send a sexy nude. 

He’s already a weak man for you, but now he’s practically on his knees. How scandalously and utterly disobedient you could be, Taehyung needs to laugh at your audacity. Blood spikes to his dick once he considers how dirty a girl like you can be, only sporting your good girl image until it comes to him, and he’s on cloud fucking nine about it.  

He licks his lips as he returns to the lewd photo. He does remember what you said about live photos, and his thumb presses down on the image. 

That’s his second mistake. 

He sees your pretty little hand draped across your stomach, no doubt his shirt from last night pooling around your elbows as you sit naked in his office chair. He bites his lip at the image of it all, but his brain loses it’s circuitry when he sees your hand canvas down your body, the camera positioned so that he can’t see your core, but your hand dips down teasingly enough that he knows you just touched yourself. 

The image of your underboob paired with your perfect waist lights him on fire, and knowing you’re doing this all while in his study, on his chair? He’s about ready to lose his mind. 

He taps his foot on the ground with frustration as the live photo stops, swallowing as he peers around to see if anyone’s paying attention to him. 

He then taps away at his screen with quirked eyebrows. 

2:38 pm: so.. you’re back to playing games

2:38 am: don’t do this, princess, you’re better off listening to me

There’s a pause on your end, no three dots appearing for a while and Taehyung’s convinced you’ve learned your lesson. He takes a relaxed breath, letting his phone rest in his hand as he focuses back on the presentation before him. 

Until his phone buzzes. 

Y/N ♡ : sent a photo 

He tenses, swallowing before he taps the notification, and that’s his third mistake. 

He suddenly sees a photo of your hand in between your legs, glimpses of your pink core obviously being played with. Taehyung nearly chokes this time, turning some heads as he tries to compose himself. 

Now he’s angrily turned on, not only are you blatantly disobeying him but he’s in a meeting right now. 

And more importantly, he’s not even home to pound you into next week. 

He locks his jaw hard as he tries to refrain from looking at the photo, but it’s just so tempting, so there and in his face. Now all he can think about is you sitting naked in his office chair and touching yourself, touching yourself to him. 

But he knows you’re pushing his buttons, being a little brat and thankfully, he knows exactly how to tame you.

Maybe you’re having a little too much fun bothering Taehyung, because his next messages only excite you beyond anything in your life.  

Taehyung ♡ : y/n, does it sound like i’m messing around? 

Taehyung ♡ : i told you i wouldn’t show you mercy, you won’t be able to handle my punishment

You : you seem a little angry there, mr. kim, i wonder what’s got you so riled up

This is sincerely too entertaining, trying to imagine Taehyung fuming in a meeting where he can’t react. The image becomes much more transparent when he texts you next. 

Taehyung ♡ :  you really think you can take me after i fucked up your insides yesterday? 

Taehyung ♡ : you’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart, stop before i lose my patience

You : god, you’re so sexy when you’re mad

You : wonder what you would do if you saw me touching myself right now 

You decide to do exactly what he asked you not to, opening up the camera and pressing the record button. You film your hand ever-so-teasingly slithering down to your core, meeting your inner folds that are flushed a dark pink and already slick with arousal. You run a finger through until you stroke your clit, shuddering at the clenching your pussy walls rake with. 

It just feels so scandalous, so against his word and it’s easy to want to disobey him, always wanting to rile up a man like Taehyung so bad he’ll unleash that beast you know he’s hiding. 

You get a few more frames of lightly rubbing yourself before you decide it’s tempting enough, pressing send along with another message. 

You : oops

Taehyung nearly launches himself out of his chair, hand clasped over his mouth in such disbelief he wish he could teleport to you and bend you over his desk. He wants to not watch, to avoid the trap he knows you’re reeling him into. But you’re so, so tempting, and Taehyung hasn’t really been paying attention to the meeting anyway. He brings his phone close to him, clicking the volume bottom of his phone completely silent as he dares to press the play button 

That’s Taehyung’s fourth mistake. 

He nearly swears as he sees your little hand snake down to your core and begin ministrations with your fingers, watching the way your clit pulses at the touch. He’s getting a bird’s eye view, and he can see how much slick you’re already producing, wondering how much he could’ve gotten you dripping to the point in which you’re spilling all over his chair. 

He’s biting at his thumb, using every ounce of his being to not get turned on right now. He doesn’t want to be sporting a hard on in front of everyone when he makes it back to his office. He feels heated, hot, removing the button that clasps his jacket close for some Godforsaken air. 

He cannot believe you’re disobeying him, leaving him to ponder the millions of creative ways he’s going to punish you. It thrills him, sends his veins to course with white hot electricity as he continues to eye you touching yourself.  

It’s fucking hot, really fucking hot the way you touch yourself for pleasure just to piss him off. 

But oh, how badly Taehyung knew his hands could do better. 

2:45 pm: do you really think those dainty hands of yours can even do anything? 

2:45 pm: i bet they feel nothing like me

Y/N ♡ : you’re right, baby, they don’t

Taehyung waits only a minute with confused eyebrows before his screen lights up again.

Y/N ♡ : sent a voice message

Taehyung quirks his brows in shock, inhaling to suppress the hard-on in his dress pants right now. He becomes apprehensive about the voice message, taking caution as he reaches in his jacket pocket for his blue tooth and places it in his ear. 

Everyone else around him is focused on the presentation, so it’s with ease Taehyung clicks on the small play button and places his phone face down, listening to the audio. 

It’s your voice at first, calling him by his name and telling him you miss him. Taehyung smiles, the soft sound of your voice uplifting to him. 

But then comes something that can only be deemed as Taehyung’s fifth mistake.

He hears you moan breathily, sigh out his name as you evidently rub your fingers between your legs. Your voice is heady and high-pitched, whining a little when you hit the right spot on your cunt. 

Taehyung’s mouth falls agape immediately, looking around and realizing he’s really the only one who can hear this, hear how needy and desperate his wife is right now. 

And the killer of it all? It’s all for him. 

You’re sighing out his name, over and over again, begging him to come home, that you wish he was here and it was his hand in between your legs. You moan sharply as you probably circle your perfect little bundle of nerves, and now Taehyung wants nothing but to be the one who sees you like that, makes you feel like that. 

The voice message ends and Taehyung’s eyes have grown dark, a shade of red crimson clouding his vision with lust and desire. He knows blood’s going places it shouldn’t, and now it’s fact that he’s pissed, because fuck, what he’s going to do to you when finally sees you. 

Taehyung hasn’t answered in a while, and it’s not long before you grow impatient. 

You : answer me or my cum goes on your valentino shirt, kim

You send him another sexy, half-naked photo of yourself in his shirt, and wait for his response that’s comedy gold.

Taehyung ♡ : y/n, i’m serious, you’re playing the wrong game

Taehyung ♡ : i’m going to ask you one last time, either you choose to stop or you can never go back 

Taehyung’s given a moment’s rest, thinking his text was rebuking enough until he suddenly receives another notification. 

Y/N ♡ : sent a video 

Taehyung shakes his head as he presses play, and views you having the audacity, the mere audacity to pop the same two fingers in between your legs inside your mouth, and suck on them.

Taehyung abruptly gets up from his seat in front of everyone and calls out his words authoritatively. 

“This meeting’s over, everyone get back to work.” Taehyung’s making his way towards the door when the vice president of the company stops him.

“But Mr. Kim, we still had-”

“I don’t care, I have more important things to deal with.” 

Your breaths are hard as you tortuously rub over yourself, pining for that bubbling sensation in the bottom of your stomach but wanting something more, needing something more to climax. 

You’re feeding into the motion, losing yourself as that sweet high rakes your insides until your phone vibrates in your hand, looking at the heart-racing message.

Taehyung ♡ : i’m going to fucking ruin you

And right then and there, you see Taehyung’s contact name light up your screen as he calls you. You panic, not thinking he’d call considering he was in a meeting. 

You scramble immediately, pressing the green button and bringing your phone to your ear tentatively. “H-hello?” 

“You chose wrong.” 

His tone is so dangerously dark and husky, leaving the bass of his voice to nestle into you core. It’s so low you can feel yourself grow wet, swallowing before you speak. 

“I was just-” 

“Did you think this would make me want to fuck you?” 

You don’t even know what to say, at a loss for words because he was correct. “I-” 

“Is that what you want? For me to fuck you? To punish you?” 

“Tae, I..”

“Speak up.” 

Heat collects in your face, biting your lip before you answer. “Y-yes.” 

“Yes, what?” 

“Yes, I want you.. to punish me, Mr. Kim.”  You respond as you lick your lips, moving your finger over yourself as you lightly whimper into the phone. 

You hear Taehyung scoff dryly. “Princess can’t last a few hours without me, huh? Pathetic.” 

You breath hitches at his deep voice, hearing him so much better than just texting. “Tae..”

“What do you want from me?” 

You move your fingers faster, collecting your slick to spread over your clit. It’s like you’re producing so much more just listening to his voice, knowing he knows what you’re doing and it’s hard to remain still. 

“Taehyung.. please. I-I want to come.. with you.” 

He scoffs. “And what makes you think you deserve to come?” 

You whimper at the sound of his low timbre, biting down on your lip as you move faster, but it’s still not enough, something keeping you from reaching the precipice. “Taehyung, please, I can’t-” 

“Touch your clit.” The sudden command hits you hard, confused he’s chosen to give in. “Tae, what-”

“I said, touch your clit.” He repeats himself pointedly, and you move towards your bundle of nerves. Your fingertips stroke your bud, and you let out a breathy gasp. 

“Press down and start circling.” He instructs with that sexy voice, and you do exactly so. You press into yourself, your walls fluttering once you hit that sweet spot. You let out a little moan, not knowing it’s music to Taehyung’s ears. 

“Think of my hand, gorgeous” His tone is suddenly much sweeter. “My bigger, rougher hand that’s in between your legs.” 

“T-Tae..” You sigh out, beginning to imagine it’s the warmth of his palm holding your cunt, that he’s rutting your folds as you increase your speed. 

“Imagine I’m there, I’m right behind you. You’re sitting in my lap, and I’m playing with your little cunt.” His voice is lusty and it sounds deep over the phone, squishing your legs together thinking he’s helping you. You can imagine yourself perched in his lap, your legs dangling over Taehyung’s as his large, veiny hand presses into your folds, rubs your slick all over yourself until you’re writhing in his hold. 

You go faster as a result, breathy little moans escaping you as you apply more pressure, go harder. “Taehyung, I..I can’t-”

“You can, baby. I know it doesn’t feel like when I do it, but keep going. Keep rubbing for me.” You listen to him, trying to build up a climax you didn’t know you wanted so badly. 

“Taehyung, baby, please, I just want to come.” 

“I know, Princess. Focus on how you feel, imagine you’re taking my fingers inside you, let me hear you.” Taehyung’s own voice sounds out of breath, like he’s really here with you and it sends sparks to riddle your abdomen. 

“Taehyung.. Tae..” 

“C’mon, my good girl can moan louder than that, go faster than that, can’t she?” His words make your pussy walls clench, pulse as they rake for something to release. 

You’re getting there, something’s collecting in the bottom of your stomach and it’s so apparent, coiling tighter the harsher you move, and you moan out sharply as you approach. 

“Taehyung.. I’m-I’m close-!” 

“That’s it, just like that, baby. You’re so dirty, aren’t you? Leaking all over my chair wearing my shirt? All because of my voice and sending me some nudes?” 

You moan, his voice somehow dropping another octave and it makes you weak, makes you melt into his chair as you insistently pet and stroke yourself, almost getting yourself there as his gruff voice sounds as if he’s right here. 

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You love being my needy little brat that gets whatever she wants?” His words are liquid lust, coursing through your veins to collect in your gut as you tirelessly rub yourself. “Like pissing me off so I can punish you like the bad girl you are? Because you’re just so fucking spoiled?”

You moan at his words, so taken by desire it’s hard to form a cohesive sentence. “Taehyung, yes..”

“Are you gonna come, Princess? You’re close? It really takes that little of me to get you off?” 

You whimper back a reply, and Taehyung groans to himself over the phone, the sound deep and beautiful. 

“Fuck, I bet you look so gorgeous right now. Legs all spread open and your cunt pretty for me, so dirty moaning my name.” You sigh out at his words, orgasm ringing in the bottom of your stomach as you work for it. “Keep going, baby, I know you’re close, you’re doing so well.” 

His voice is the epitome of heaven, and your body absorbs its honey-like, though thick sweetness as though it’s everything divine and more. You’re rubbing and stroking and rutting so quickly into your hand you’re just about there, listening to his words and relishing in their every syllable. 

All you can hear is his deep voice, and just when your breath begins catching, increases in pitch and volume and your stomach tightens, right as you’re about to be thrown over the edge..

The call ends. 

You come to a stop so abrupt it’s as though air’s sucked out of your lungs. Your breaths are rugged, feeling your orgasm melt away and you panic, looking at the phone to find he cut the call. 

Taehyung fucking ended the call before you could orgasm. 

Your legs are buzzing with your latent climax, frantically clicking at your phone to get him back on the line, but just as you’re seconds from pressing his contact, he appears as a notification on the top of your screen. 

You open your messages, finding two bubbles of words you didn’t think could infuriate you to an impossible degree, huffing out frustratingly when you read. 

Taehyung ♡ : come to my office at 7 tonight wearing something i’ll like  

Taehyung ♡ : if it’s not what i want, i’ll make sure you don’t come for the rest of the week 

It’s the sound of the door opening that’s so ominous, leaves a near echoing effect to resound in Taehyung’s office. You pause for a moment, nerves filling your chest as you take a moment to look back at Mrs. Lee desk, finding it empty, just like much of this floor. 

You swallow, reprimanding yourself knowing you’ve seriously fucked up, and you finally poke your head inside his office. 

Your eyes flit around the space as you hug Taehyung’s large brown overcoat on yourself, concealing your choice of clothing.

Your seeking eyes finally land on Taehyung seated in his chair behind his desk, arms and legs folded together authoritatively, and here was a time you sincerely contemplated why there isn’t a way for the Earth to swallow you whole. 

His look isn’t just formidable, no, it’s cold, ice cold. Sharp and edgy as though daggers could’ve been flinging at you, but instead they manifested as Taehyung’s intense energy, burning so hot you’re perplexed as to how you’re not set afire yet. 

His arms are crossed over his chest with a leg over the other, doing that thing where he rolls his tongue on the inside of his cheek as he stares. He makes a full round before licking his lips, one arm uncoiling to rest against the side of his face, eyeing you blankly. 

“Come in.” He says, the sound of his voice much, much deeper in person. 

You quickly pace inside and shut the door mindfully, turning around and standing by his entrance. You don’t dare move, the aura in his office completely, and utterly unrecognizable to you. 

He’s angry, but in a different way. Not like when you two fought or argued, no, he seemed as though his patience had been dwindled into a pile of nothing, clearing your throat once realizing you’re the reason. 

“Come here.” He speaks, and you obey within seconds. 

You squeeze your lips together as you near waddle before his desk, unable to meet his searing stare as you fold your hands before you. Your head’s dipped in shame, not having taken his punishment or anything of the sort seriously. 

And now here you were, actually afraid of what he’ll do, but also felt your core alight with excitement. 

You’re fidgeting for a while before he speaks, deep and domineering. 

“Do you know why you’re here?” 

You swallow, your voice suddenly so small and shaky. “I-um..” 

“Spit it out.” 

You clear your throat, looking for the best response. “I.. I disobeyed yo-”

“You disobeyed me.” He finishes for you, tone prominent and dark. He remains in his seat, eyeing you aloofly. 

“What did you do, Y/N?” 

You clear your throat nervously hearing him refer to you by your name, still unable to meet his eyes. “I-um, I did something you didn’t want me to do.” 

“And what was that?” 

You want to shrink into the smallest thing possible, eyes flickering up to actually meet his, and it’s a miracle you don’t entirely freeze over. “To not touch myself.” 

He brings his thumb and index finger to draw across his lips, his stare utterly intimidating. “And what did you do?”  

Your cheeks collect with heat, antsy as you try to embarrassingly expose yourself. “I.. I touched myself while you were away.” 

Taehyung takes a moment here to laugh, digit lining the seam of his lips as he looks off to the side before leaning onto his desk, planting both his feet on the ground. His gaze returns to you, a sense of smugness and snark in his expression, jaw flexing tauntingly. 

He stares, and he stares good, eyeing whatever he can manage while you remain swathed by his jacket. It’s another case of you evading his look, swallowing dryly for the umpteenth time before you heard Taehyung’s chair draw back. 

Your panicked eyes fall to him rising from his seat, hands in his pockets as he saunters over to you, unhurried and relaxed, but daunting, domineering. Your line of sight gradually moves upwards as he walks towards you, accommodating for just how much taller he is as he eyes you with the most empty expression on Earth. 

He finally reaches you, peering down at you in a way that makes you feel small, oh, so small. He scans you, studies you, and you use every fiber in your body to remain still. He takes a step forward, suddenly drawing the back of his index finger to your cheek. 

He slowly, gradually lines the skin, careful, calculated, but oh so intimidating. You can feel his heated breath on you with how cloe he is, and you shrink a little as he closes the space more, staring down at you so intensely your breath catches, and he laughs. 

“I love when you do that.” His tone is smug and low, eyes flickering to him. 

“Do.. what?” 

He then bends down inches before your face, lips just centimeters from yours as he whispers hotly. 

“When you react so easily.” 

You do it again, breath hitching trying to manage the arousal that crackles through you and Taehyung cracks a condescending smirk. 

He then rounds your figure, calm and slow. He positions himself directly behind you, standing a few centimeters away from your back as you feel his looming presence permeate you.  

Even if you can’t see him, you can feel the way Taehyung towers over you from behind, no doubt peering down at your smaller, pathetic self with a sexy grin. 

Your hands start to collect with sweat, fidgeting with the sleeves of Taehyung’s winter coat as he remains behind you, quiet and unmoving. 

A good moment passes before he says anything, the bass of his voice chilling. 

“You wore my coat.”

Then you feel his hand land on your shoulder, stroking the spot a little until gliding down your arm, gripping the material scrutinizingly. He feels at it, breathing a chuckle through his nose. 

“Cute.” 

His hand retreats from you, leaving you nervous and shifting on your feet. “Um, Taehyung-”

Suddenly his palm grabs your neck from behind and captures the underside of your jaw, front pressed up to your back in seconds. You gasp, feeling the cool metal of his watch and his fingertips press into your throat with a squeeze. 

“Did I ask you to speak?” 

The hot action coupled with his gruff voice by your ear makes you shut your mouth immediately, his presence so intense it’s scorching. You’re so thrilled you freeze, feeling arousal spike through your insides at his roughness, and his hot breath brushes the shell of your ear.

“You don’t speak unless you’re asked to.” 

You breathe tremulously, your core buzzing at his sheer dominance. His demeanour is no joke, so you listen to Taehyung with an eager nod. 

Your hands are clasped so tightly together you’re sure you could be digging crescents into your own skin. You’re so hyper aware of him you know he’s seething, but keeps it subdued underneath his superior position, maybe enjoying how small you feel in his hold. 

Another moment passes before Taehyung retracts his hand, releasing your throat. You breathe again, hearing him grab onto the lapels of his suit jacket and peel it back from his shoulders. It pools at his elbows, pulling the sleeves off right behind you as you hear the rustling of the item come off. He then chucks it onto a couch in the lounging area near his desk. 

The jacket passes by you, now uberly aware he’s only got on his shirt. You then hear the top buttons of his black dress shirt pop open, imagining the sexy image of Taehyung uncuffing his sleeves and folding them at his veiny forearms. 

He suddenly stops moving, no doubt staring you down with sharp, alpha male eyes.

“Strip.” 

The single word command leaves arousal leaking into your veins, swallowing before you uttered something. “Tae..I-” 

“It wasn’t a question.” 

“What if somebody walks in-”

“There’s nobody for 15 floors, I sent them all home.” 

You swallow, finding that incredibly sexy and also aware that you should be listening to him. You undo the buttons of his jacket carefully, biting down on your tongue to manage the embarrassment of showcasing what you’re wearing to him. 

The front is open, and you hold his coat for a small moment before you pull it off your shoulders. You minus your arms from the item and the jacket drops to the ground, leaving you expectantly standing in the middle of Taehyung’s office. 

And his eyes widen. 

All he can see his red and skin. He sees the lace, then, it’s the satin, then, it’s the garters that hook around your thighs and the makeshift corset tied around your torso. 

It’s the same lingerie set he first laid his eyes on. 

You hold your arms together, nervously shuffling on your feet again considering his reaction you can’t see. You then hear Taehyung breathe a laugh through his nose. You freeze when his fingertips suddenly graze your shoulder, dancing across the bare skin until he hooks a finger underneath one of your straps. 

“Is this for me, sweetheart?” 

His breath contacts your sensitive skin, and you exhale shakily, responding to him. “Yes, Taehyung.” 

He hums satisfyingly. “You chose wisely, you get to come today.” You inhale at his words, considering maybe Taehyung’s going to let up. 

But then he purposefully lowers himself to your ear, puffing out hot air as he pulls at the strap. 

“But I didn’t say when.” 

It snaps back on your skin, jumping a little as you subsequently hear Taehyung beginning to unbuckle his belt, arousal melting through your core at the sound of the telling metal. He evidently rips the belt from his waistband, listening to him fold it in his hand and tug at it harshly. 

The loud cracking sound resounds in the room, and you visibly twitch. You’re so sure he’s going to use the belt on you, anticipating his next move with acute nervousness but also some bubbling excitement, a gushing cunt.

In all your thinking Taehyung wraps the belt around your waist and tugs you against him harshly, gasping when your back meets his hard chest and the belts leather chills your hot skin, Taehyung breathing by your sensitive ear. 

“You’ve been a bad girl, Y/N.” 

He comes up to the crown of your head, tugging you against him so tightly every erogenous zone in your body is screaming. His tone is dark, so dangerous you naturally snap down to see he’s folded up the sleeves of his black button up, his veins ever-so prominent. 

You gush at the delicious sight, the arousing feeling of him crowding your space and caging you from behind beyond riveting, your bare skin against his clothed body so scandalous. “T-Taehyung.. I’m-”

“Who said words could come out of that pathetic mouth of yours?” He pulls harsher with an edge in his tone, just enough that you realize you like it, you like the way he’s holding you with his belt, you like the idea of not knowing what he’ll do next, what his punishment entails. 

You like the slight pain, you like that he’s being rough. 

You like how easily he makes you submit.

“I’m going to ask you some serious questions, Y/N.” Taehyung declares, his iron lock grip suddenly loosening a bit. You nod in response, swallowing as his voice reverberates in the room by your hair. 

“Does this make you uncomfortable?” He’s more like himself with a soft tint of alpha male, and you absorb the question for an honest answer. 

“No.” 

You see him adjust his grasp on the belt so his arms enclose you tighter, more securely as though he’s embracing you, as if he’s relaxing to hold you near and dear. 

“Do you feel safe with me?” 

Your heart bursts listening to his gentle question, his consideration in a moment like this melting your insides. “I always feel safe with you, Taehyung.” 

He nuzzles his face into your hair a little, soaking in the scent of your shampoo. You similarly relax, taking a breath as his comforting cologne floods your nose. 

“I want you to be honest, now. Don’t hide anything from me.” He stands with you, basking in his presence as much as he basks in yours. “Do you know your limits with sex?” 

You run through your mind considering if you’ve ever been involved in experimental sex, especially power play like this, and you come up empty, not exactly knowing what your limits are. “Not-not really.” 

You shrink with some embarrassment, thinking you must look stupid with such little experience compared to him, but it’s Taehyung’s pacifying, dulcet voice that eases you. “That’s okay, we can figure them out together.” 

You take a breath, butterflies swarming your chest. “Are-are you sure? I’m sorry I’m.. so inexperienced it’s embarrassing-” 

“Don’t apologize, love.. it’s not embarrassing.” He cuts you off with a soft timbre, smooth and rich like caramel. “It’s okay, you’re fine just the way you are.” 

Your chest fills with warmth as he speaks next, your heart thrumming against your ribs. “Do you trust me to test your limits, Princess?” 

There’s no question about it, you know Taehyung will always honour your desires and boundaries especially during sex, so it’s with ease you nod, swallowing as you do so. 

“I need your verbal consent, Y/N.” Taehyung emphasizes. “I need to know you trust me with your body.” 

Something about his adamancy on consent lights a fire inside, willing to honestly, with an open mind and heart, fully give yourself to him as you whisper. “I trust you, Taehyung.. I’d trust you with my life” 

You feel him smile against you, warmth and comfort radiating from his body. “Do you remember our safe word?” 

You nod. “Mm, red.” 

“Good girl.” He praises. “If you ever don’t like something I’m doing to you, use that word, and I’ll stop immediately.” 

You nod understandingly, gripping around his hands that hold the belt and squeezing comfortingly. Taehyung takes a moment to kiss your bare shoulder, the act tender and warm. “Don’t make yourself take something you can’t. If I’m hurting you, say the word. I don’t ever want to be causing you pain you don’t like.” 

You stroke his forearm affectionately, feeling at ease in his hold. “I understand, Taehyung.” 

“One last question, Y/N.” 

He speaks by the crown of your head, his breath hot and sweet. The belt’s still snug around your stomach, and Taehyung tugs at it again to press your back further into him, asking huskily.

“Do you think you can handle this punishment?”

His tone’s now dropped an octave, the bass low and vibrates through your back to sink down to your toes. You swallow, taking a deep, assured breath as you answer.

“Yes.”

You take a tremulous breath, unaware of the fire you just lit inside Taehyung. He cracks the smallest of smirks to himself, tugging at the belt a little tighter. 

He nears his lips to your pulse point, anticipating his kiss when you feel his breath on your neck, but Taehyung does merely that. He breathes teasingly, intentionally to watch you extend your neck anticipatingly before he’s ripping the belt off you, retreating 

He tosses it somewhere, disregarding the measly thing as he settles behind you. He stays there, and he looms, his presence so intense you’re going to scream. But then, his hands, his perfect hands slowly snake over your bare waist, the slight roughness of his skin leaving trails of white hot electricity against yours. 

They canvas upwards, inch by sensual inch, feeling your skin greedily until he’s met your breasts, his lips breathing hot air by your ear when he cups your chest in a single second. You gasp, and you feel your core set on fire, your every sense on alert as he graciously fondles you like his favourite toy, moaning headily. 

“You love being played with like this, don’t you?” His voice comes out so dark, so low it’s enough to leave your panties dampening. Your breath hitches again, unable to speak properly as Taehyung tugs your lingerie down and exposes a breast.  

His fingers pinch at a raised nipple, squirming in his arms that cage you from behind, leaning against his chest to manage your burning arousal. 

“I could tell from the second I touched you in our kitchen this is your weakest spot.” He almost tauntingly says, imagining an evil smirk as he watches you below him, wriggling around as his thumb circles an eager peak. 

“And if I just..” He then presses against the nipple for light pressure, rubbing faster, tighter circles that have you moaning out uncontrollably, writhing like a helpless doll. 

He hums proudly, smugly. “You like that, don’t you?” 

“Tae.. your hands.” Your moan is shaky and breathless, on overdrive feeling his hands so greedily. You want more, you need more, crave him any and everywhere over your needy body. “Your fingers.. Tae, nngh.” 

“Dirty, disobedient girl.” He nearly spits at you, palm full of your breast suddenly giving a slightly too hard squeeze. “You think you deserve my fingers?” 

His voice only turns you on more, and your stray hand comes up to fist his over you, growing desperate, needy, weak. Your feeding into his motion with whines when Taehyung scoffs, the hot air against your shoulder electrifying before he rips his hands away from you. 

“Pathetic.” His tone reverberates from behind, left alone and burning. 

There’s something, just something about the way the bass of his voice articulates the word, that single word, leaving you with a wet cunt and aroused erogenous zones that want him even more. 

You’re trying to catch your breath when Taehyung walks past you, leaving a trail of his intoxicating, Invictus cologne. He nonchalantly reaches his desk, and eyes you once he’s behind, seating himself on the chair as his stare burns with his intensity, sends currents to riddle your pathetically aching pussy. 

He then seats himself, manspreading his long legs gloriously. His look shifts into one of lust, peering back at him timidly as you see Taehyung lift a finger and beckon you towards him. 

You immediately listen and pace over, standing before him as he remains seated deliciously, and it takes every fiber of your being to not disobey him and straddle him right now. You can see his hard cock being constrained by his dress pants, his tip nestled against the confines of fabric so prominently it must be painful.

He’s got an unaffected, confident look plastered on his face, however, eyeing you deviously as he knows he’s got the upper hand, relishes in his absolute, complete control as if he’s seated upon a throne. 

And you feel your panties dampen about it. 

He’s leaning his temple into his hand that’s propped on an arm rest, scanning over your scantily-clad figure standing before him. You await his instruction, shifting timidly before he speaks. 

“Knees.” 

You comply rapidly, dropping to your knees before him and you peer up at him expectantly. You see Taehyung bite his lip, leaned back laxly in his chair as he views you in between his legs. 

He then tilts his head a little, staring into your very soul before shifting his eyes towards his crotch, then back to you. 

“Come closer.” 

You shuffle closer, expecting him with your hands on your thighs and Taehyung’s Adam’s apple visibly bobs. He leans over, large, warm palm finding your cheek, and his thumb caresses your skin gently. 

You lean into him, soaking in the sweet touch of his hand, eyes softening once you realize he’s genuinely smiling, seeing a crack of his tender self. He tucks your hair behind your ear, petting the tresses affectionately. 

“You’re so pretty” 

You smile shyly, soaking in the care of his touch until his irises suddenly change colour, his hand snaking to the back of your head to roughly grab at your hair. You gasp sharply, his dominant tone igniting your veins when he commands you.

“Now suck.” 

Arousal rakes your insides listening to him, something about him ordering you around exciting your nerves. You shyly look at him as you shuffle forward on your knees, delicate hands slithering up his inner thighs just to see the way he tenses. 

You find the button of his dress pants, loosening the waistband and you tug his bottoms and boxers down, Taehyung assisting you in the process. You pull low enough until his dick pops out, standing tall and proud. 

It’s funny how easily you marvel at Taehyung’s length, because quite literally any time you lay your eyes on him he always seems bigger, more delicious, craving every inch of his beautiful cock. 

You know you’re under orders, but you can’t help but give him a few teasing pumps, work his cock like it’s a little game because nothing matches the way Taehyung shudders in your hold. 

He hisses pleasurably, watching you with flaring eyes as he speaks. “Y/N, I gave you an order-” Right then and there, he’s cut off by you jutting out your tongue to run across his leaking slit. 

“Fuck,” Taehyung swears through a groan, using the very tip of your tongue to repeatedly slather all over his tip, lick at him like he’s a popsicle on a hot summer’s day. You’re so into sucking him off your hair begins obstructing your view, falling into your eyes annoyingly as you attempt to evade your strands.

Taehyung seems to notice and combs your hair from your face, holding it securely for you as he designs a makeshift ponytail, breathing heavily as you lick at him. 

You peer up at him from underneath, dainty hand wrapped around his shaft as you stroke him at a delicious pace, hook your free hand onto his thick thigh and wrap your lips around his glistening, angry tip. 

Even with your fleshy mouth around him, you use your tongue to work him, swirling and running all over his hard member to hear his breath catch, have his hold tighten in your hair and lightly chase after your mouth. 

“You wanna be a brat and a tease?” Taehyung questions harshly, tugging at your locks. “Unless you want me to fuck up your throat like I did your guts last night, you should start sucking, sweetheart.” 

You peer up at him with your mouth full of cock, glaring at him as you daringly neglect all forms of preparation and drive him into your mouth. You take all of him, swallow him whole as he nudges your esophagus like he did just yesterday, and you never knew you could love a feeling so much. 

You choke, and you gag and you feel tears prick at your eyes instinctively, but the delicious weight of his cock in your mouth, seeing the way he moans out and throws his head back all while flashing you his bobbing Adam’s apple; you’re left a horny, wet mess that only wants more. 

You relish in his heady taste, dragging your mouth back slowly, deliberately as you suck at him greedily. You meet his gracious tip, eyeing him innocently as you suckle at his slit only to shove him back in again. 

You breathe through your nose, tongue dragging across his shaft as you sink back down, maneuvering your hand with a tight clasp to mimic what you’d feel like around him. You suck him off just like that, propelling his perfect cock into your mouth all while gazing up at him, watching him groan and swear and praise you like a Goddess. 

“Oh fuck, Princess, your mouth.. so perfect.” He massages your scalp with his fingers, craving the fleshy back of your throat and he can’t hold himself from bucking his hips and bringing your head down on him. “So pretty with your mouth full of my cock.” 

You begin feeding into the pace he crafts for himself, gradually relinquishing control as Taehyung holds you in place and begins to slowly fuck your throat as he pleases. Your hands grip onto his thighs, bracing yourself as his thrusts power his cock into the beginnings of your esophagus, rightfully choking all around him as tears pathetically escape your eyes.

He continues his desirous onslaught, relishing in the wet warmth of your mouth until you begin swallowing around him, tasting at the pre-cum that leaks from him and Taehyung peers down at you with onyx eyes. They’re dark and shaped by sheer lust, but also a sense of adoration. He’s beyond taken by you, watching the way your mascara cascades down your cheeks and your face is flushed by desire.

You pleasurably view the way he moans and groans for you, and even though sometimes you struggle and gag, choke and cry and pain rakes your throat; it makes you more eager, more determined to shove him so deep inside you leave Taehyung beyond whipped. 

His quicker pace and heady groans tells you he needs stress relief, his day probably having caught up to him more than he’d like to admit, and your shenanigans only added to that. 

So you let him continue to pound into your throat, chasing that blissful feeling of his tip hitting the fleshy confines of your mouth, watching you swallow him up like he’s your favourite meal. 

His breathing is running rampant, thrusting his hips into you roughly, harshly as you gag all around him, but take it sitting down. 

He actually laughs here, entertained. “You love taking my cock, don’t you, baby?” 

His thumb soothes your skin as he repeatedly brings you down on him, clutching your hair harder the closer he gets. You feel your underwear slick with your arousal, enjoying every last minute of taking his divine throat-fucking. 

He holds you harsher, firmer, hammering rougher fucks into your mouth as he loses himself, moaning and groaning your name with so much pleasure you moan with his gifted length in your mouth. He shudders, both hands coming up to hold your face affectionately while railing your throat. 

“Such a good fucking girl, fuck.. I can never last inside you.” He strangles out a groan when you swallow intensely, increasing your suction as you breathe for air and ground your knees. You improve your position, now eagerly letting him use your throat as you give him all you have. 

Taehyung notices, practically buzzing with arousal as he soaks in your needy little figure all wrapped up in red satin and lace, adoring you in earnest. “Shit, you’re so hot. Taking my cock so well, maybe I’ll eat you out for this later-oh fuck.” Taehyung swears as you try matching his velocity, maneuvering your mouth in tandem with his thrusts, neglecting the burning in your throat. 

“God, you act so innocent but you’re so fucking dirty, huh? Only for me, right? My Princess is only dirty for me?” 

You nod with your mouth full of him, and the movement causes Taehyung to shiver with a strangled groan. He grows weaker by the second, his thrusts losing precision and eroding into aimless fucking. You take the perfect opportunity to bring your hands to his balls, playing with him in your palm and Taehyung absolutely loses it. 

“Shit, Princess, don’t-” Taehyung’s cut off by his own groan when you gag around him and your sloppiness sets him off, applying more pressure to your groping. You can tell he’s close, his movements so erratic and rough you’re whimpering pathetically, and it drives him insane. 

Your throat produces messy noises as he drags in and out, his reprimanding words coming out in grunts. “I’m not coming inside your mouth, Y/N, stop fucking doing that-” but you only squeeze harder at his balls and he moans beautifully, watching the divine way he throws his head back. 

This angle of him remains museum-worthy, so utterly delicious when he’s like this and you reward him with generous attention to his throbbing tip, feeling his cock twitch dangerously inside you. 

You want nothing but to feel him flood your mouth, to get a taste of his cum but it is not what Taehyung wants. 

And you’re not aware of the mistake you just made. 

Taehyung pulls out of you in a flash, gaining the opportunity to desperately suck in air. You feel too empty, too vacant and manage the burn of your throat before you find Taehyung breathing in disarray, as if he’s coming down from a hard high and now? 

His demeanour completely changes. 

“Get up.” He orders harshly, and you so do rapidly, meeting his storming eyes. You get confused, not understanding what he’s doing until he gets up, crashing his lips onto your neck. 

It’s so abrupt you’re nearly sent backwards until Taehyung secures his hands around your waist, pulling you to him roughly as he wastes no time in biting at your skin ferally. He’s trying to swallow you, devour you, and you let him do so, letting Taehyung have absolutely all of you. 

You’re so head over heels for him you’re shocked when he pulls away, chasing him until Taehyung unexpectedly gets behind you and bends you over his desk with a harsh shove. 

You gasp as your chest and stomach crash onto the surface, Taehyung’s long fingers grappling around your wrists as he captures them against your back, other hand pinning your shoulder down hard. 

“Tae, what the fuck are you-”

“There you go again running your mouth, did I fucking ask you to speak?” He’s angry now, having ticked him off and the tight grip on your hands gives him away. 

You scoff condescendingly. “Is this how you treat all your visitors, Mr. Kim?” 

“No, just my disobedient wife who can’t take a fucking order.” 

He’s lost it now, hearing him damn near rip his tie off as he speaks out in a deep, authoritative timbre. “Do you not understand what I do to bad girls?” 

He’s got your wrists clasped tightly together, unable to escape him as his strength keeps you shoved onto his desk. “I asked you to not touch yourself, and what did you do? I ask you to not speak, and what do you do? I tell you to stop and you keep going?” He retells in a fucked out haze, losing his reigns.  

“I had to cut a meeting short because of you. You just don’t like listening to me, do you?” 

Oh, you fucked him over, and you fucked him over good. You absolutely love it, thinking you’ll finally get a taste of that beast inside him and it thrills your veins, speaking up boldly. “Maybe I just like being treated like your personal ragdoll, Mr. Kim.” 

You don’t see Taehyung huff out in disbelief, coming to a halt as he attempts to absorb your sheer audacity right now. “You did not just-” 

“But I just did, Taehyung. What are you going to do about it?” 

There’s nothing, silence, Taehyung having come to a full stop. It’s a shame you can’t see his expression right now, because maybe it would’ve prepared you for what he does next. 

Taehyung pushes your soaked panties to the side, winds his hand back and slaps your sopping core, and slaps it hard. You gasp loudly, absorbing the ache it sends and letting it collect in your gut. You try to look over your shoulder, reprimanding him even in your inferior position. 

“Kim Taehyung, you asshole-” And he does it again, sending you forward as he slaps harder this time, gripping your wrists tightly to keep you in place, so harshly you’re sure he’ll leave his own pretty bruises. 

“God, you’re such a fucking brat.” He spits his words at you, unhooking his tie from around his collar. “You really wanna be disobedient with your ass up and bent over my desk?” 

He licks his lips flitting over your sexy lingerie from behind, having run over this position in his head so many times he’s absolutely thriving. Taehyung actually scoffs, tone dark and wild as he leans down to your ear and whispers hotly. 

“I don’t care if it takes all night, sweetheart, you will submit to me.” 

Your insides flutter at the sheer intensity in his voice, the bass sending shiver across your skin. You then feel him bringing his tie around your wrists, looping the fabric around you. 

“You know, you may be a brat, and it’s most fucking infuriating thing ever.” He speaks harshly, tying the material around your hands quickly. He then roughly ties a knot, pulling the ends to secure your wrists behind your back. 

“But you wanna know what I like about brats, baby?” He then unexpectedly brings his rough hand to your ocean of a pussy, feeling at your pathetic folds languidly as you sigh loudly.

Taehyung this time brings a hand down on your ass and smacks a cheek, jolting at the contact when he demands roughly. “Speak when you’re asked to.” 

“W-what, Taehyung..” A moan when he brushes your clit. “What do you like?” 

He lines his slender fingers up with your entrance, his hand curling around your shoulder as he grips you down in an iron lock and says. 

“I like disciplining them.” 

He doesn’t even give you a warning before he’s fingering you, shoving in three from the get-go and you twitch against his desk with a cry. You whimper, the feeling of his long fingers inside you so delicious you want to soak him all up. 

Your hands strain at his tie around you, trying to move but Taehyung only pins you down harder. He moves unforgivingly, without mercy, serving light attention to your throbbing clit that begs for stimulation. 

He begins his deadly combo of holding you in place by your shoulder as his other hand works your leaking pussy. You could feel the cool metal of Taehyung’s wedding band and rings as he fingered you, hitting you with so much pleasure at once your eyes nearly roll back. You moan and writhe underneath him, wanting to speak though knowing it’ll only exacerbate your punishment. 

But Taehyung’s always had a keen eye. 

“What’s wrong, Princess? Can’t speak all of a sudden?” He shoves his hand inside particularly deep, sighing out sharply as he revels in your reaction. 

“What’s got your tongue tied? Couldn’t be your husband’s hand and his wedding ring finger-fucking you, now could it?” Oh, he’s evil, and diabolical and devious and rude, but oh God, are you already desperate for an orgasm under Taehyung’s avaricious onslaught. 

He moves speedily, stimulating your cunt in all the right ways you’re left a whining mess. You consistently strain at his tie, but the knot was tight enough you’re simply left to take him, feel your insides flip and twist and tighten as he increases his every movement with intensity. 

“Fucking hell, you look gorgeous bent over my desk and your pussy all offered up for me. Wonder what would happen if I just..” And Taehyung bends his fingers inside you until he brushes that perfect g-spot, begins pounding his fingers against it to feel the way your pussy walls flutter. You gasp out sharply, the stimulation so delicious you could cry, feeling him constantly work that one spot and you’re right there.  

Your orgasm sits at the bottom of your stomach, feeling it pulse so hard, nearly releasing in Taehyung’s hands until he suddenly pulls away, leaving your orgasm to disappear in slow aches. You gasp scandalously, rebuking him when you feel it dissipate into nothing. 

“Taehyung, what the fuck?!” 

He laughs, laughs here, and it’s so maniacal you want to turn around and throttle him. “Did you really think I’d let a spoiled brat like you come?” He asks rhetorically. “Learn how to listen first, sweetheart.”

And without warning again, he inserts those same three fingers inside you and gets right back to work, working your pussy for him as he consistently shoves you onto his desk. 

He eats up all your moans and groans, the way you writhe with pleasure as his incessant stimulation allows your orgasm to resurface, fingering that divine g-spot again as your insides constrict..

Only for Taehyung to pull away again. 

“Taehyung..” You whine, sure tears are pooling your lash line. “I-I need to come, please.” 

“I didn’t say you were coming any time soon.” 

And what does Taehyung do? He goes right back in, fingering and fucking and thrusting into your weeping cunt repeatedly until you just reach the precipice, only to rip his hand right out of you. 

And the worst part? He does it over and over and over again, until you’re crying  and thrashing and begging him to just let you come. His fingers feel so delicious inside you, soaking and trapping him in as you attempt to come earlier, feeling your cunt pulse and palpitate and clench as you moan lewdly but he always stops just before your release. 

Every time you think you’re finally reaching paradise Taehyung pulls away, and tears stain your cheeks as you whimper, weep, beg for him to just let you come. “Taehyung, please, please let me come. I swear, I’ll always listen to you, I’ll be obedient and listen. Just please, let me come!” 

“Princess wants to give out now?” He teases with a smug grin, lowering himself to your ear as he speaks condescendingly.

“I haven’t even started yet.” 

You turn into a complete crybaby, wishing you could kick him right now but you know Taehyung’s the beholder of your climax, and you ought to treat him nicely if you want to come even today. 

“Taehyung, baby, the love of my life, please, please at least put your cock inside me. I want to feel you, I wanna feel how big and thick and long you are. I wanna come around you, Tae.” 

Taehyung chuckles dryly here, now gripping your torso hard as he holds your whimpering body in place, still finger-fucking you like it’s nobody’s business. “Do you really think you deserve my cock after you decide to disobey me? Bad girls don’t get to come, Princess.” 

And he’s back to square one, pushing his fingers deep inside you without mercy as he occasionally stimulates your clit, thrusts against your spongy little spot and you’re ready to lose your mind, relishing in the perfect feeling he manifests inside you but this time, he leans over to mouth at your pulse point. 

The added stimulation has you reeling, keening, the feeling of his hot mouth against your sweaty skin nothing short of heaven. He practically eats at you, devours you from behind as he denies and controls your orgasm like a pathetic game. 

And it’s not until you speak do you save yourself from the brutal torture. “Taehyung, baby, please, I want you to come inside me. Make me yours, Tae, put your kids inside me and make me yours.” 

He comes to a stop, breathing unevenly as he seems to ease up, hand slipping out of your battered pussy as he eagerly licks his lips. 

His hands disappear from your core, and you relax until you’re met by him suddenly prodding your entrance with the enormous head of his member, the feeling so euphoric you shove your forehead against his desk just to manage the pleasure.  

“Fuck, T-Tae.. you’re so-nngh.” 

He nearly breaches you just to see you shudder, greedily biting his lip as he patiently lines himself up with your weeping entrance. 

“You see, Princess, maybe you’ve learned today, but I have two sides.” He continues to glide himself against your sopping cunt, collecting your essence all over his tip as he hisses. He watches the way you palpitate for something to fill you up, anchoring a hand onto your wrists against your back. 

“One, where I wanna kiss your face and cuddle you all day.” He says much like himself, tone dulcet until he leans down to your ear, “the other..” He trails as his chest meets your back, growling against you. 

“Where I’ll tie you up and fuck you for hours.” 

And that’s all you get before Taehyung thrusts himself right into your waterfall of a pussy. He fucks you experimentally slow for all but one minute before he speeds up, and fucks you mean and hard and rough from the get-go. He buries himself to the hilt, revels in the perfect sponginess of your tight, warm cunt until he pulls out, only to insert himself again. 

You gasp loudly, lewdly as Taehyung fucks you from behind vigorously, and you’re sure your sounds are resounding in the room like music, feeling him fill you up with his sizeable length. You adjust to his divine cock, feeling him nudge your stomach and you brace against his neck tie, moaning out his name as your abundantly slicked walls allow him to glide in and out with ease. “Taehyung..”

You feel his hands anchor onto your hips as he shoves himself inside you, fingertips boring into your skin and you love every bit of it. 

You don’t even realize you’re reciprocating Taehyung’s fucking with your own, chasing his pumps as he hits it from the back roughly. You’re submitting to his delicious thrusts so easily Taehyung’s nerves dance with flames of dominance and arousal alike. 

“Fuck, Princess. Look at how good you take it.. such a good girl for me.” He’s breathy himself, and you know for sure a climax has been raking Taehyung this entire time. 

“God, Taehyung, fuck. Go harder, please, you’re so big.” 

Taehyung’s ego’s fed so well he does exactly as you say, grappling onto your hair as he pulls at it for leverage, going faster as the pornographic sounds of skin slapping echoes in his office. 

You moan pleasurably, his hold on your hair engorging your ravaged clit. “Fuck, Taehyung, yes.”

Taehyung laughs headily, so deep into fucking you he’s close to going insane. “Princess likes it rough, huh? Likes when I treat her like a brat? Likes when I pull her hair and tell her how desperate she looks for my cock?”

Taehyung’s words only egg you on, letting go of everything and moaning louder than you should once he starts hitting that one, delicious spot inside you. You’re so caught up in the feeling you’re surprised when Taehyung pulls at your hair and wraps a palm around your throat, choking you as he leans down towards your ear.

“Why the fuck are you so loud?” He admonishes, soothing over his harsh words with little praises. “I know my Princess can take more than this. She likes having her little pussy beat up until she’s crying, doesn’t she?” 

And you quite literally feel tears escape your eyes, your denied orgasms all amassing together for your one gated explosion. It’s tingling in your gut so badly you squirm at your restraints, want all of Taehyung, want him to use you and fuck you so hard you forget your own name. 

“Taehyung, I’m so close, baby, oh my God.” You gasp out sharply as he particularly shoves your hips backwards and propels his forwards, so deep he’s prodding your guts. “So good, Tae, you fuck me so good.” 

That’s when Taehyung’s hand comes down to pull at his makeshift bondage around you, unable to see his black, blown out eyes in a lusty haze, still unable to move on from your sexy, red lingerie. 

He loosens up the knot and tosses his tie somewhere, securing a hand on your leg as he suddenly flips you onto your back against his desk, finally facing him in missionary. 

You’re instantly relieved seeing he’s equally as fucked out as you are, sweat slicking his skin as he breathes erratically. You jut your hands forward for him but he immediately captures them and pins them back against his desk roughly, crossing them above you. He adores this position, adores your sexy lingerie set adorning your panting figure, the rose in your cheeks and your hands captured above you, groaning at the perfect sight. 

“God, Princess, you’re mine, you understand that?” He says through a strangled grunt, losing himself thrust by thrust. “So pretty and perfect and all mine.”

He restrains you that way, crowding you as he ferally latches his lips onto your neck, sucking at you desperately as his other hand holds you in place. He rocks into your hips mercilessly, so harshly he’s moving the desk with his every pump while you whine for your approaching orgasm. “Taehyung, fucking-please! I need to come, please let me come.”  

His pussy-pounding is so powerful you’re sure he’s beating up your stomach, guts fully rearranged until they spell his Godforsaken name. 

“You wanna come, Princess? Is that what you want?” He asks harshly, hands gripping you so hard it feels like ecstasy. 

He holds you strictly in place as he gives it to you unforgivingly, hammering your pussy like it’s his because fuck, are you Goddamn his. “Yes, Taehyung, please, please.” 

“Then tell me, baby, what’s my name?” 

You’re sighing out pornographically as Taehyung moans, your walls aching so bad your clit’s engorged beyond comprehension. It’s sickening the way he fucks you, so intoxicating and blissful and perfect you feel your soul leaving your body, feel your insides coiling so tightly you’re going to snap any second.

“Taehyung, fuck, Taehyung!” 

“Who’s your dom, huh? Who do you submit to? Who’s fucking you so good you can’t even think straight?”

“You, Taehyung, shit!” He abandons his original position and changes angles, groaning and grunting ferally, now jackhammering into your g-spot so hard you’re screaming, hands straining against his iron lock hold as you dig into the back of his hand, taking him like a champ. 

“Who will you never disobey, huh? Tell me my name, Princess, who the fuck am I?”

“Taehyung! Oh shit, come inside me, please, fuck-!” And that’s when your vision clouds, gets blanketed over by lust so strong you feel everything inside you simply burst. Fireworks explode, colours pop and every flower blooms before spring because your orgasm hits you so violently you spill all over Taehyung. 

You’re so in your head it’s Taehyung’s frantic speaking that even keeps you at it, suddenly feeling something gush out of you in sheer abundance. “Oh, oh shit, Princess, you’re squirting, holy fuck, yes. Just like that, baby, this is so fucking hot.” He praises copiously as you squirt all over Taehyung’s cock, leaving a gigantic, sloppy mess as Taehyung finally allows himself to come fiercely. 

Your body lurches off his desk and Taehyung’s dick twitches inside you, throbs and fills you up to the brim with his cum, the feeling nothing short of euphoria.

He releases with a hot, feral grunt, giving out as his palms land on the desk and he cages your panting figure, hovers above you as he huffs and puffs, beads of sweat dampening his hair. 

He’s let go of your wrists and they’re left to uselessly lay above you, so taxed by his brutal fucking you’re ready to lose your consciousness. 

You’re barely able to keep your eyes open, body so exhausted you’re numb to the no doubt beat up condition of your groins and insides, especially coupled with yesterday. His cock is still nestled inside you, fitting like a puzzle piece as he softens inside you, spills the last of his delicious cum. 

The tiredness in your eyes catches up, fluttering shut as you drift off until Taehyung rests his forehead against you, calling you awake. 

“Y/N, baby, don’t sleep just yet.” He says, his harsh breaths mingling with yours. Your throat feels dry, and you try swallowing as you come down your mind-blowing high. It’s hard to refuse sleep, giving out on him again until Taehyung’s palms find your face, cupping your cheeks affectionately when he whispers to you, sweet and honey-like. 

“Princess, you did so well. I’m so proud of you, you’re such a good girl.. always a good girl for me.” He kisses the tip of your nose, watching you barely nod as your strength dwindles out, conscious tugging you into a slumber.

It’s with lethargy you can even make out what Taehyung whispers, lovely nothings laced with praises and endearing promises. “Sleep, Y/N, you took a lot today. I’ll take care of you, I promise.. I’ll take care of you..” 

His voice drowns out, and that’s all you hear before your consciousness flickers out, the day’s early morning and today’s shenanigans enough to drain all your batteries, falling into a peaceful slumber. 

Taehyung watches you drift off, certain you’ve reached your limit for today. He was genuinely worried for the condition of your legs and your core, considering how sore you must be from yesterday, and now today’s escapade 

Even if you pushed his buttons for it, Taehyung fills with overwhelming concern nonetheless. He watches you innocently sleep, smiling a little because it completely contrasted what you were up to just 2 minutes ago. He adores it, adores how needy and bratty you get until you desire a punishment, rile him up in all the right ways that leave him craving more. 

His eyes fall to the mess between your legs, rubbing your tummy as he slowly, gently pulls himself out of you. You wince a little, no doubt feeling the loss of him.

He soothes your skin in response, holding up your legs by your hips as he reaches over for some tissues on his desk (that surprisingly hadn’t fallen off like much of everything else did). He retrieves some and brings them to delicately dab against your folds, wiping away the cum that threatens to spill from you. 

He maneuvers carefully until enough is stuffed inside you, cleaning meticulously as he swipes mindfully, bringing his lips to your battered cunt for a soft kiss once he’s finished. He discards the tissues and kisses up your body tenderly, adoring every inch that’s wrapped up in red satin and lace. 

He then reaches your lips, pressing a deep kiss that leaves a smacking sound as he smooths over your trails of tears, admiring you as if you’re the prettiest star in his sky. 

He then fixes himself up and tuck himself away, buttoning up his clothes as he lets you rest on his desk. He then lifts you in his arms bridal style, ambling over to the casual lounging area in his office and laying you against his most comfortable couch. 

He secures a pillow underneath your head and realizes how little you’re wearing, seeing you hug yourself for warmth and he immediately goes for his overcoat you preciously wore. He drapes it over you like a blanket as he bends down to your height, seeing you stir and curl up underneath it. He brings a hand to your hair to stroke lovingly, seeing you naturally lean into his touch.

“Princess, can you hear me?” He asks, listening to you lightly hum in response with adorably shut eyes. 

“Let’s go out tomorrow, okay? I want to take you shopping, and we can have a nice dinner.” Taehyung soothes the pad of his thumb against your temple, fingers whisked away in your hair. “How does that sound, angel?” 

He sees a small smile appear on your face, body rising and falling as one of your hands grips onto his against the couch, squeezing tightly. 

Taehyung smiles at the action and squeezes your hand back, bringing your hand to his lips for a kiss. He lets go of you and stands to his feet, adjusting the thermostat of his room for a warmer temperature and despite his exhaustion, begins to fix around the things you both made a mess of. 

He’s eventually able to shut off all his lights with a pristine office again, nabbing last minute things as he supports you out the door and locks it. He lifts you up in his arms and carries you outside where a valet drops his car by the curbside. He smiles a thank you as he fits you inside the passenger seat comfortably, securing your seatbelt and shutting your door before he slips inside and ignites the engine. 

He drives you both home in contentment that night, admiring the soft way you breathe in and out of sleep. He admires the quietness, the calmness of your slumbering body, and carries you inside your home where he lets you rest for the night. 

He lays you in your bed together, adorning glasses as he completes stray work on his laptop while you sleep against his chest, Taehyung gingerly petting your hair.

And as time passed you by, you were still conscious enough to feel the cozy, tender feeling of being in his arms, nuzzling even closer just to hear his reassuring heartbeat, to feel his comfort, never knowing that even on a cold, winter night, loving Taehyung could feel so...

Warm. 

“Y/N, come downstairs! You said you’d be ready half an hour ago!” Taehyung calls out from downstairs by the foyer, having been patiently waiting for you to appear. 

You come strolling in with a black overcoat and white, fitted knit sweater, cropped as it ended before your light blue jeans that disappeared underneath black knee high boots. 

“Hello? I’m going to be strolling around Seoul with my gorgeous CEO husband, I need to at least look pretty enough to be beside you.” You complain as Taehyung’s amused eyes flit over you, smile inching onto his perfect lips. 

“You’re always pretty to me.” 

You scoff but your heart flips and trips over itself, attempting to act nonchalant. “Doesn’t take away from the fact that you’re very handsome.” You say in passing as you check your lipstick in the mirror, removing some that escaped the confines of your lips. 

“Here, let me help you.” Taehyung says and you innocently take him up on the offer, turning your face towards him only to have Taehyung capture your chin and lock his lips with yours instantly. He seals your mouths amorously, kissing you in full as he swallows you whole. 

It’s funny how winded a single kiss from Taehyung gets you, because the second he pulls away you’re left with a spinning mind and horny erogenous zones. You then clear your throat. “You.. you ruined my lipstick now.” 

Taehyung laughs through his nose, but his eyes are suggestive. “Mm, I mean, I could ruin a lot more things..” Taehyung’s voice becomes sultry and you’re pushing him back within seconds. 

“Nuh uh, get away, you sex beast. You’re lucky I took some painkillers this morning or else I wouldn’t have gotten out of bed today.” You made towards the door, flocking outside towards his Mercedes as you clutched onto your MK side bag. 

He laughs as he bids Mrs. Seo and Choi farewell, locking the door behind himself and following after you. “You know, the only reason I’ll let you call me a sex beast is cause it makes you beauty.” 

You snap your narrowed eyes back at him, thinking that was absolutely fucking adorable and you hide your pout. 

“That-that’s not fair. That was too cute and now my heart is racing. Repay me by opening this door.” You light-heartedly order him as you cross your arms, head held up high. Taehyung’s unable to stop himself from laughing and pulling open the car door like a gentleman. 

“Your chariot graciously awaits.” He quips with a bow. “Get in, you Princess.”

“Your Princess, though.” You grab onto his tie and tug him down for you, pressing your lips to his for a tasteful kiss. 

His eyes grow curious when you pull away. “What was that for?” 

“Your favourite kisses are on your lips, remember?” You bring back your drunk escapade and send him a kittenish grin, sliding into your passenger seat. 

Taehyung holds the door open as he runs his tongue on the inside of his cheek, smiling to himself as he closes the door and contemplates how badly he’ll make sure you stay his. 

“Maybe this one?”

“No, maybe something a little more cute.” 

“How about this one?” 

“I don’t think that’s my colour.” You dismiss as you walk hand in hand with Taehyung in a Chanel department store, strolling through the dress section he dragged you into in order to find a gown for tonight’s upscale dinner date. 

“Every colour is your colour.” Taehyung mindlessly says as he eyes different gowns, feeling at them and silently analyzing them in his mind.

You’re left to blush as you feel his big hand clutching yours, remembering the way the exact same hand held your thigh as he exclusively drove you around Seoul. It was already a killer to watch him drive with a single hand on the steering wheel and his watch on the same wrist, adorned with a three-piece navy blue suit that screamed sexy and his hair lightly slicked back to reveal some gracious forehead.

You practically drooled the entire car ride, giggling whenever Taehyung danced his fingers across your thigh and became horny anytime he squeezed or moved his fingers inwards.

 You’re distracted by the memory until Taehyung snaps you out of it, “C’mon, let’s get you to try these on.”

 Heat collects in your face once he starts asking for specific dresses to be chosen, and with a snap of his fingers people are already doing their work. “T-Tae, I don’t need to try anything on.”

 “Why not, baby?” He seems genuinely concerned and it takes every ounce of your being to not kiss his adorable lips.

 The idea of runway modelling dresses in front of Taehyung for some reason makes you shy, clutching his hand tightly. “I don’t think I’m really gonna look good in them, you shouldn’t have to waste your time watching me try them on.” You laugh it off like it’s an age old joke, but Taehyung doesn’t see what’s funny.

 He wonders if there’s a reason why you think that.

 Wonders if someone made you think that way.

 Taehyung turns to face you, expression heartfelt as he brings his hands to your cheeks and captures your face, eyes looking into yours meaningfully.

 “You’re never a waste of time.”

Your eyes go round, staring back at his serious ones as your heart does a somersault. You’re looking for something to say, brain short circuiting as your chest fills with an entire zoo. He’s just so genuine, and the way he’s looking at you right now is melting your insides.

You almost speak up until a saleswoman directs you both towards a dressing room, snapping you both out of it as Taehyung leads you there with a warm hand on the small of your back. 

“Princess, I can’t see the dress if you hide behind the curtain.”

You whine a little, swathing your body to obstruct his view. “But Tae, I’m not used to trying on dresses.” You get all timid, knowing one of Seoul’s finest and wealthiest CEO’s is sitting cross-legged, arms-folded waiting for you to appear in a dress. “I don’t look good.”

“I bet that’s a lie, just come out and show me, Jagiya.” He requests sweetly, waiting patiently for you to come out from behind the curtain.

“I’ll come out if you close your eyes.”

Taehyung’s lips fall into a small pout. “But if I close my eyes I can’t see.”

“That’s the point, genius.” You’re so unsure why it feels scary, like Taehyung would ever judge how you appear in a dress, but maybe it’s because you’ve never done this before. You’ve never had someone eager to see you in a dress, never had someone take you out to purchase pretty things or tell you you’re not a waste of time.

Never had someone love you like this before.

“Okay, how about we do this. I’ll close my eyes and when you come out, you can tell me when I can open them, is that alright?” He offers thoughtfully, and it’s hard to not want to kiss his face all over for being so forbearing.

“O-okay, close your eyes, then.” You say tentatively. You wait a little, ensuring you’ve given enough time for him to close his eyes and take a breath before you poke your head out. Taehyung’s done as he promised, large palm draped over his eyes as he waits silently, tapping a foot as a small distraction for himself.

You can’t help but break out into a content smile, thinking there’s nobody in the world quite like Taehyung. Someone who could be so understanding, so careful and gentle with you, and so, so patient.

You don’t realize a whole 2 minutes have passed when Taehyung lightly whispers to the worker overlooking your little fashion show beside him. “Is my wife outside yet? She looks pretty, doesn’t she?”

Your heart smiles at his words, taking an assured breath as you lift your head up and say, “You can look, Taehyung.” 

Taehyung tentatively removes his hands and opens his eyes, only have them near bug out of his sockets. You watch his facial expression remain in one of shock for a while, feeling small under his look until it melts into that pretty, beautiful boxy grin of his, and your heart soars. 

You stand there in a white dress, designed as a maxi wrap around with half-sleeves that cascade down your shoulders, the gown falling into a waterfall skirt.

You tuck your hair behind your ear not knowing what to do, Taehyung seated with raised eyebrows and an unabashed smile. He then gets up, slowly walking towards you as he scans over your body as though it’s art, as if in a museum of pretty and expensive things, you’re the only thing he wants to look at. 

“Wow..” He simply says, large palms finding your shoulders as he regards you admiringly. “You.. you look like an angel.” 

You get all giddy inside, biting your lip as you peer up at him bashfully. You feel the dangling of your crystal teardrop earrings, suddenly remembering the expensive, crystal necklace he bought as a matching set and now adorned your neck. Did you even want to get started on the new cream Prada purse and wallet he insisted you choose? Or your new Jimmy Choo's? 

“You didn’t have to get me a dress too, Taehyung. You’re spoiling me too much.” You softly scold him, but he only playfully kisses his teeth. 

“Hey, if I can’t spoil my Princess, then who do I spoil?” He then squishes your cheeks together, admiring the way it makes your lips pout. “I like spoiling you, it’s a reward for putting up with this sex beast.” He raises his eyebrows impishly with a light smirk, narrowing your eyes at him until you give into his laughter. 

His arms pull you in for a hug and his chin rests atop your head, your hands coiling around his torso as you hum in contentment. You lift off his chest to look up at him lovingly, but something in your peripheral vision catches your attention. 

You see pairs of women and some men lounging around the store whispering or speaking to each other, which would’ve been normal if it weren’t for the apparent way they shot looks towards you. 

Some were merely observational, but most seemed to hold some sort of grudge against you, as if scrutinizing you with just their dirty looks and it oddly destroyed whatever confidence you’d just built. 

It was more of a mood killer, a reality check that you’d always be regarded that way, as someone who may not belong beside Taehyung. And no matter how much you’d try to ignore it, to tell yourself whatever others say shouldn’t matter, there was always a heart-aching feeling that accompanied not knowing what terrible things people could be saying about you. 

So your eyes falter from Taehyung’s, grounding yourself as you look towards the floor and hook onto his arms, trying to retreat from him. “Um.. thank you, I’ll just go take this off now.” 

You’re turning around until Taehyung seems to notice the change, a hand of his coming up to your cheek as the action beckons you to look at him. You do, finding his slightly worried eyes though he gives you a reassuring grin anyway, stroking the apple of your cheek. 

“You look beautiful.” 

You’re not sure if Taehyung can hear how loudly your heart is beating, because he always manages to make it race. Your chest blossoms, your eyes soften and you feel at ease. You peer back at him with stars in your eyes, nothing but unconditional love swirling in them. 

“Will you wear this dress tonight?” He asks, warm and sweet. 

You’re about to answer, but it’s with your sharp eyes you see two women specifically flash you a disapproving look, your vision faltering from Taehyung’s as you observe them. You’re close to feeling disheartened until Taehyung suddenly obstructs your view, blocking them with his body. His gentle hand is still against your cheek and rubs pacifyingly, eyes only on you. 

“Please wear it, you look gorgeous, and I want everyone to see how pretty my wife is.” And that’s when you understand, you know he knows. He knows people must be looking, that people must be judging and gawking and building their own useless opinions about you and him. 

But Taehyung’s words from yesterday morning don’t take much to come to mind. ‘We know how we feel about each other, and that’s all that matters.’ 

Your lips curve into a smile then, gazing back at him confidently and nodding your head, holding his hand against your cheek. “Mm, I’ll wear this dress tonight.” 

Taehyung grins before happily pressing a kiss to your forehead, and you brightly giggle. 

“You keep doing that.” 

“Doing what?” 

“Kissing my forehead.” You recount with a stupid grin, feeling all mushy inside. “Why?” 

He cracks a genuine smile. “Drunk you said you love them, remember?” You revisit your little drunk escapade of kissing Taehyung’s face. 

You pout that he remembered, Taehyung adoring the plush of your lips. “You remember so much about me.” 

“How could I not remember? You’re always on my mind.” You’ve both got the faces of hopeless romantics, Taehyung’s warms hands cradling your face gingerly. “Can we go shopping at a men’s store, too, baby?” 

You tilt your head. “You need to go shopping?” 

He confirms with a nod. “I wanted some new ties, but I want you to choose them.” 

“Tae, you already have so many ties, why would you need me to choose more?” 

That’s when Taehyung’s lips curve into a mischievous smirk, bringing his lips to your sensitive ear and whispering hotly.  

“They’re not for me.” 

Suddenly the memory of him tying your squirming hands up with his necktie invades your thoughts, eyes going wide as you register what he means. 

And Taehyung only laughs, adoring your scandalized expression. 

The sounds of clinking, soft chatter and light piano melodies fill your ears as you seat yourself with Taehyung at a table for a two. He’d been the gentleman that pulled out your seat for you and helped you adjust back into the table, smiling handsomely when he found his own. 

Taehyung wasn’t joking when he mentioned a nice dinner, if anything, it was an understatement. This restaurant was the epitome of upscale; high ceilings and tall windows that overlooked Seoul’s beautiful scenery, not to mention it’s pristine cut of marble, whites and gold embellishments. Taehyung and yourself were seated at a reserved, exclusive table a fair amount away from the general crowd, tucked into a perfectly warm corner that optimized your views of the city. 

You and Taehyung had fallen into useless though never-ending chatter, detailing anything from your choices of steak to what you’d both been up to as of late, especially considering 3 weeks left a gaping hole in each other’s minds. 

“I actually ended up doing really well with Steeles’ Ltd.” Taehyung relayed, covering his mouth as he chewed. “It wasn’t just the money, but they seemed to like the plan and potential future of our partnership I presented. They thought I was ambitious.” 

“That’s fucking amazing, Tae. I told you you’re a genius, you had that in the bag.” 

He giggles softly. “I’d agree with you, but I was actually really nervous before the final meeting.” 

Your eyes widen, similarly chewing down on some food. “You got nervous? But you rarely do, what happened?” 

Taehyung seems to internally debate whether he wants to admit something. “It’s just-um.. I was in a really bad place to be making decisions after everything that happened, and usually.. you’d put me at ease.” 

He says it with a hint of a smile on his face, fork having rested on his plate as his vision falters to the cars on the bustling streets. You soften, your heart growing sad at the small sorrow on his face. 

You bring your hand to entwine with his against the table, squeezing it reassuringly as you run your thumb over the back of his hand. “I’m sorry, Tae.”

His expression turns reprimanding. “Hey, what did I say about saying sorry? It’s not your fault, it’s mine. I’m more sorry.” 

You smile through a giggle. “We’ll just never let the other take the blame, will we?”  

“In my eyes, you can do nothing wrong.” 

“You can’t do anything wrong in mine, either.” You both laugh together, sighing as you reminisce. 

“I was the same, not being in a good place.” You began, intertwining your fingers with his. “I really tried to get over any bad news or hiccups with work, but the night before the club.. I couldn’t..” You remember what happened that day, the God awful call you didn’t think would suck the life out of you.

Taehyung visibly softens, now squeezing your hand. “What happened, Princess? What triggered your nightmare that night?”

You sigh, shoulders drooping as your mind canvasses the situation. “You don’t have to tell me if you feel uncomfortable.” 

“No, it’s not that. It was.. it was Yun & Ryu.” You become honest, meeting his attentive eyes. 

“Did they end up calling you? Was that the call you got at the dinner table that day?” 

It was truly lovely how easily Taehyung could put dots together, not having to drain yourself explaining things. “Yeah.., I-um, I didn’t get chosen.. for the project.” Your suddenly dispirited line of sight falls to the city, mind filling with disappointing thoughts a they flit over the skyline you still dream of. 

Taehyung naturally follow your eyes, peering back to you with compassion. He brings your hand to his lips, kissing your fingers before letting them simply rest there in his hold, attentive and supportive. “It’s your dream, isn’t it?” 

You don’t really look at him, feeling something eat at you from the inside. “Yeah, it is.” You exhale painfully, watching the city lights glint in the dark. “I just want to leave a mark, you know? Prove that I didn’t need my dad or my family.. that I amounted to something on my own.” 

“You’ve already amounted to so much, though, Y/N. You did something no heir would even think of.” Taehyung says in support. “There’s so many of us trapped within our families by obligation, and you broke away from that.” 

“I may have, Taehyung, but at what cost?” Your eyes find his, speaking seriously. “You already know about my family, and I’ve been running ever since I left. Now I have to keep running a marathon, I have to keep trying without rest. Have to build everything from the ground up all over again, let alone find another opportunity of the same caliber.” 

He softens his look, smoothing his thumb over your fingers he delicately holds. He then takes a breath, seeming to have something to say. He brings your hand down to the table, holding it pensively as he speaks up. 

“What if.. I told you your dream could come true?” 

You find him with furrowed brows, curious. “What do you mean?” 

He doesn’t look at you, merely plays with your fingertips and watches himself do so. “There’s.. this project, I know of. It’s a very important building.. and it would end up in the Seoul skyline.” 

You perk up, eyes widening with disbelief as excitement fills your chest. 

“It’s for my company.” 

You immediately deflate, shoulders drooping as you deadpan. “Taehyung, no.” 

“Y/N, look, it’s a great opportunity.” Taehyung tries to reason. “I overheard plans about a new building for our software development department. They want a dedicated headquarters building in Seoul.. and they’re looking for an architect that can make something new and innovative.” 

You sigh dejectedly. “Tae, if it’s for your company then there’s a bias involved, I won’t participate.” 

“Princess, I understand you hate when your success is linked to somebody else’s, but I promise I don’t overlook anything regarding architecture or building design. That’s an entire team of its own, they choose the architect and I merely sign off papers.” 

You shake your head in refusal. “Tae, if I make a pitch they’ll feel inclined to choose me because I’m the CEO’s wife. It wouldn’t be fair.” 

Taehyung’s hold then grows a little tighter, trying to sincerely convince you. “Y/N, they wouldn’t choose you because you’re my wife. I’ve seen your work, okay? You’re a gifted and talented architect, they’d choose you for your brilliant work, not because of me.” 

“Taehyung, baby, think about it. How could they say no to the CEO’s wife? There’s an incentive to choose me, and everyone would believe I used my connections to get the project.” 

Taehyung licked his lips frustratingly. “I understand, Jagiya. But I’m serious, your work is incredible and it deserves to be in a skyline. How else do you think Yun & Ryu considered you?” 

You debate over the topic in your head, considering if Taehyung really does have little to no say in the decision of the architect, technically he’s not directly helping you at all. It wouldn’t take away from the unconscious bias the project leaders would have, however, not to mention the criticism that since you share the same bed with the CEO, it’s imperative you’d earn the position. 

Your wishy-washy eyes look at his hopeful ones, his hold on your hand encouraging, and definitely to persuade you as it makes your heart soften. You exhale, only budging a little. “I’ll think about it, Taehyung.” 

And that’s all he needs before he’s grinning ear to ear, bread cheeks rising as he presses deep kisses to your now minorly injured hand, laughing a little at his unabashed affection. 

“Do you want to add my hands to the list of things you like about me?” You giggle through the question. “What’s gotten into you, Tae?” 

“You’re an architect, you hurt your hands easily.” He observes the small cuts here and there, the result of either paper or precision cutting knives, not to mention your small clumsiness with paper trimmers. It’s then Taehyung takes both your hands and brings them to his lips, peppering small kisses as he holds them warmly. “I need to kiss these cuts away, can’t have my Princess’ hands hurt.” 

A pretty laugh escapes your lips, flustered as you dote on Taehyung. “Did I ever tell you how much I love you?” 

“Along with how sexy and handsome I am, yes.” He quirks his eyebrows playfully, and it’s both your mellifluous chuckles that grace the dinner table, unknowledgeable of how much the pair of you adore the others laugh. 

You and Taehyung crash into your foyer hot and panting, making out fervently as he shuts the front door by shoving your body up against it, crowding your space. 

Your hands tug at his clothes, his canvassing anywhere over your curves as he shoves his tongue down your throat. Maybe it’s the product of newfound love, or that paired with the bottle of Pinot Noir wine you’d down by yourself as Taehyung was the designated driver. 

You’d both laughed and talked merrily the whole night, and maybe it was your duality tapping in when you both began devouring each other the second you’d stepped out of Taehyung’s car.

All unimportant things like shoes and keys are thrown somewhere as Taehyung grasps at the back of your thighs, hopping up into his hold as you desperately tug onto him, Taehyung forcing you back up against the door. 

It’s hot and sweaty, Taehyung’s tongue exploring every inch of your mouth as you both moan against each other, your hands messing up his perfectly silky hair. 

Taehyung then attacks your pulse point, mouthing at you deliciously as you sigh out a gratified groan, the pleasure palpitating your cunt divine. “Taehyung..” 

Lewd noises ravage you as Taehyung sucks at your skin, sure he’s either reviving his previous marks or blossoming new ones all across your throat. He begins carrying you both towards your kitchen, your core brushing up against his torso and the belt of his dress pants, the sensation causing you to rut up against him. 

Your ass then meets the dinner table, Taehyung disconnecting from you with pretty pink, swollen lips. “So, what’d you say about tables, again?”

Heat collects in your face remembering your comment from a few days ago, searching for a comeback. “I-um, don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mm, so you don’t want me to do you on our dinner table, then?” 

You gasp scandalously, hitting his shoulder. “I never said that, and Mrs. Choi puts our food here, asshole.” 

He only bites his lip sexily, giving you a smug look. “I mean, I’ve got my food right here.” Taehyung brings a hand to your weeping cunt underneath your dress, feeling at your slicked panties. 

You inhale tremulously, Taehyung relishing in your reaction with a hum. “Mm, this right here, my favourite to eat.” He whispers huskily before connecting your lips, fingertips feeling at your clothed folds as you lightly whimper for him. “Tae..” 

“Lay back, angel.” He instructs as he canvasses the underside of your jaw, slowly leaning you back against the table. “You’ve been such a good girl for me, let me take care of you.” 

He’s kissing down your throat, showering with affectionate kisses all over as he lifts up your skirt, kissing your abdomen as he hooks onto the waistband of your underwear. He smooths circles into your hips as you grow desperate for him, letting yourself relax as you begin leaning back, anticipating his perfect, full lips on your pulsing cunt. 

Until his phone rings. 

“Okay, seriously, who the fuck invented cellphones and what do they have against us?” 

Taehyung laughs at your comment, rolling his own eyes as he leans his palm against the tabletop and fishes for his phone, catching sight of your annoyed pout. 

“If you pout like that, I’ll end up going back in time myself just to tell the creator to fuck off.” He makes you giggle as he rubs his nose with yours playfully, your hands holding onto his pretty neck. “And I really do need to eat you out, I will after this call, okay?”

Your insides collect with heat at his words, nodding sheepishly as Taehyung views the contact on his screen and accepts the call, bringing the phone to his ear. “Hey, Namjoon-hyung, what’s up?” 

You’re distracted by kissing up a storm on Taehyung’s neck, leaving deep kisses until Taehyung suddenly cups your waist in his palm, frantic. “What?” He sounds shocked, worried even. 

The concern in his tone alarms you, coming off to view his widened eyes as he converses with Namjoon over the phone. 

“Fuck, okay, okay, we’re coming.” Taehyung ends the call, urgent eyes falling to you.

“Y/N, we have to go” 

You and Taehyung come rushing in the hospital, all frazzled and utterly out of it as you spot a group of familiar faces, scurrying towards them. 

“Namjoon, we’re here!” Taehyung calls out as he drags you along with a tight grip on your hand, squeezing it as he regards his troubled friend before him. “How is she?” 

“God, I don’t know. We were just home and her water broke, she started having her contractions and I lost it. She’s in a private room right now, she’s managing I guess.” Namjoon recounts the worrisome story of his wife, a hand to his forehead. 

“Namjoon, hey, it’s okay. This is completely normal and you’re doing great.” Jimin gets up from his seat and lays a hand against his shoulder, speaking pacifyingly. 

“Namjoon-hyung, you’ve been talking about this for a long time. I know you’ll do great.” Jungkook offers as he similarly abandons his seat.

“Seriously, Joon, I’ve seen you read up on enough pregnancy books to have confidence in this. Your wife will be okay.” Seokjin offers his supportive words as well, seeming to quell his trepidation. 

“Alright, I’m sorry she’s only in labour right now and I’m not sure how long it’ll take. I just didn’t think I could be alone for this, I had to call you guys.” 

This time it’s you who speaks up. “Hey, Namjoon, that’s alright. We’ll stay here for as long as you guys need, you don’t have to apologize to us.” 

“We’ve got you, Namjoon. You never have to worry about that.” Taehyung offers kindly, to which Namjoon eases up more. 

“Thank, guys. I think I’m going to get back to my wife, I don’t want her to be alone for too long. You can stay here for as long as you can, and I’ll let you all know when she’ll be taken to delivery.” You all nod understandingly as Namjoon waves a small goodbye, disappearing into his wife’s room as you’re all left outside. 

Everyone takes a deep breath, sights falling to each other. “Did you guys get here just now?” Taehyung asks his friends. 

“He called me right when the contractions started, so I met him at the hospital and guided him through.” Seokjin explains. 

“I was at home so I got here right after they did.” Jungkook relays. 

“I got here only 5 minutes ago, had to u-turn from my way to Busan.” Jimin recounts, regarding you both. “Did you guys get here safely?” 

“Yeah, we’re okay. We just got scared since Namjoon sounded like he was freaking out.” Taehyung explained, squeezing your hand in his. 

“He’s just nervous about everything, but we need to remind him he’ll do great. If anyone’s going to be the smartest dad out of all of us, it’d be Joon.” Seokjin offers, his phone ringing and he oddly huffs out in frustration. 

It’s then you turn around and catch view of the person’s hand Seokjin is holding. 

More accurately, a very, very tiny hand. 

Your sight canvasses downward to find the most adorable little girl standing next to him, silently regarding everything around her with curious eyes and nibbling on a finger of hers. 

You need to slap your hand over your mouth, finding her the most endearing little human ever as you whimper at her cuteness. It was uncanny her resemblance to Seokjin, plump lips that complimented her almond eyes and button nose, dark, silky hair swept away into two ponytails. 

You’re so distracted by her you nearly miss Seokjin suddenly approaching you two, clutching his phone in his hand. 

“Taehyung-ah, look, I’m so sorry about this, but my wife’s not feeling well and she’s stuck at work. I need to pick her up but Eunbi’s car seat barely fits into my car, and I’m scared about driving her somewhere again after I already brought her here.” Seokjin says hurriedly, seeming short on time. 

“I hate to ask this, but can you and Y/N watch her while I’m gone? I promise I won’t take long, I just need to make sure my wife’s okay.” 

You’re endeared Seokjin even thought of you and Taehyung for taking care of his precious little daughter, though it’s Jungkook’s commentary that makes you giggle. 

“Hey, you don’t trust me, Seokjin-hyung? I could totally take care of a kid.” 

“Jungkook, you’re still a kid yourself, I can’t send a kid to take care of a kid.” 

“Okay, but Jin-hyung, what about me? I’m a little hurt you don’t think I’d be amazing with kids, they love me.” Jimin speaks up for himself, to which Seokjin easily counters. 

“Y/N’s the only female here and I trust her more than any of you dimwits, Taehyung’s just a given cause they come as a pair.” Seokjin smiles at you sweetly as he speaks, ignoring the rest of the complaints from the guys. 

“Y/N, I don’t think you’ve met my daughter before, and I’m sorry I’m dumping her on you like this, I’m just worried about my wife. Do you mind taking care of her?” 

“Oh God, not at all, Seokjin. Seriously, it’s not a problem, I promise we’ll take care good care of her.” You quell his anxieties, Taehyung perking up next to you. 

“Yeah, hyung, we’ll as in I’m great with kids, for your information.” 

“Whatever, let me talk to my favourite human, morons.” Seokjin dismisses his friends as he bends down onto a knee before his daughter, leveled to her little height as he cups her face, cradling her gently. 

He speaks to his daughter softly, explaining to her that he’ll be gone for a little while but that her uncles and aunt would take care of her. You watch her nod along, jutting out her hand to run against Seokjin’s cheek, and the action has you immediately doting on her. 

Seokjin pets her hair affectionately, giving her a kiss on her little nose before he gets up to his feet, offering her hand to Taehyung who welcomes her warmly. 

“Hey, little Eunbi, it’s uncle Tae.” He smiles, watching her crane her neck all the way up to view him. You find it endearing he’s now holding a hand of Eunbi’s as he lets go of yours, bending down onto a knee similarly like Seokjin before her. 

“Do you remember going to uncle Tae’s wedding?” He asks tentatively, to which Eunbi nods. 

“That’s good. Did you know uncle Tae has a wife now?” He beams adorably, and Eunbi’s face lights up at his expression. “Would you like to meet her?” 

She adorably nods, and you need to hold your cheeks to prevent how much you’re smiling; she’s just the cutest little thing. 

“That’s lovely. Though I have to warn you, she’s very, very pretty. Are you ready to meet a very pretty lady?” He inquired sweetly, to which your cheeks warm up by a dozen degrees and your heart does a hundred somersaults. 

Eunbi nods and Taehyung carefully secures his hands around her little body, hoisting her up into his hold and perching her on his hip. He ensures she’s safe and takes your hand, bringing you closer to the two of them, and you never knew you could see such a tender, beautiful sight of two people. 

“Eunbi, meet Y/N, she’s my wife.” He speaks gently, then his eyes find you with a smile. “Y/N, meet Kim Eunbi, Seokjin’s daughter.” 

Your lips can’t help but pucker adorably, endeared by the way her pretty eyes look at you. You bring a hand to her, tentatively waving. “Hi, Eunbi, I’m aunt Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.” 

Eunbi waves a little bit before her head falls against Taehyung’s shoulder, eyeing you with sweet, curious eyes. She nuzzles her head against him, and you’re seconds from melting into a puddle. 

Taehyung secures both hands on her then, holding her closer to adjust her carefully and you can’t help but have your ovaries explode at the perfect image. 

He looks like the sweetest father on planet Earth. 

“Ah, Eunbi, are you getting shy?” Seokjin comes close and asks his daughter, to which she shakes her head. She actually juts her hand out, coming forward to softly touch your hair as she speaks quietly, with child-like innocence. 

“She has pretty hair.” 

You could’ve cried, could’ve literally died right here because oh God, is she so, so adorable. You immediately dote on her, expressing your gratitude for her cute little compliment. “Thank you, Eunbi, but your hair’s so much prettier.” 

She giggles a little when you smooth her hair, shoving her adorable face into Taehyung’s neck and it’s hard to not feel your uterus flutter. 

Seokjin smiles warmly at the entire interaction, bidding everyone farewell as he makes his way out. “I’ll get going, you guys. I’ll see you soon, baby Eunbi.” Seokjin blows kisses at his daughter as she daintily waves, taking a step down the hall. 

You and Taehyung fall back to Eunbi, who’s still cutely feeling your hair. 

“Her hair’s so pretty, right Eunbi? Only thing is that it gets in uncle Tae’s way a lot, I always have to pull at it-” 

“Tae, I can still hear you, shut up before I kick your shin in!” Seokjin calls out from down the hospital corridor, and everyone in the waiting area laughs as Taehyung pulls his lips back guiltily. 

“I like her earrings!” 

“Really? What else do you like about her? I bet it’s not as long as my list.” Taehyung adorably converses with Eunbi, having her seated in his lap facing him as she fidgets around and talks with him animatedly. 

“Her eyes.” She confesses sweetly with a giggle, to which Taehyung replies enthusiastically. 

“Oh, I know, they look like stars, don’t they?” Eunbi nods her head, and you can’t help but giggle too as your head falls against Taehyung’s shoulder, watching him play around with Eunbi with such warmth and tenderness. 

“Her voice is pretty.” Eunbi admits sheepishly.

“I know, right? She can just get so loud!” Taehyung beams with an innuendo, and you immediately smack at his shoulder with a scolding. 

“Taehyung, she’s a kid!” 

“Hey, I don’t know what you’re thinking, Princess. I was only referring to how loud you get doing things such as yelling at me or watching Rose let go of Jack. What were you thinking?” He reprimands you with pursed lips, on the receiving end of your rolling eyes. 

He then suddenly brings his lips to your ear, however, whispering lowly only for you to listen. “Although, I’m not opposed to watching you keep your loud mouth shut if I took you on a hospital bed right now-” 

“Guys, do you know who this man is? Because he’s certaintly not my husband.” You look towards Jungkook and Jimin who watch the comical ordeal, laughing through your own remark. 

Taehyung chuckles too and returns to playing with Eunbi in his lap, making faces and offering his bracelets and Rolex for her to marvel at. You grin and loop your arms around Taehyung’s bicep, back to leaning your head against his shoulder as you snuggle into him for some rest. 

It’s getting late at the hospital, around midnight where you’re already yawning here and there as you find purchase on your husband, today’s shopping around Seoul having drained you. You’re both still wearing your dinner date outfits, and it’s Jimin’s voice that pulls you out of watching Taehyung and Eunbi, your heart warm and gentle at how fatherly and parental he naturally is. 

“You look really nice, Y/N, were you guys out somewhere?” 

You nod. “Mm, we shopped around today and had dinner. We got the call when..” You suddenly stop, remembering Taehyung was a minute away from eating you out against your dinner table and you change your sentence. 

“Uhh, when we were.. watching a movie.” You try to hide your face, certain they could see the rosy blush in them as Jungkook perks up. “Ugh, do you guys get nasty all the time? Can’t even go a phone call without you two acting up.” 

Jungkook still seems hurt about your botched phone call the other day, calling forth Taehyung’s input. “Jungkook, it’s not my fault you were declaring your undying love for my girl, I had to cut you off.” 

“What? I was detailing my grievances, ass- I mean, um, idiot? Am I allowed to say idiot?” He turns and asks Jimin as he gestures towards Eunbi, who suddenly makes a little whiney noise, wriggling around on Taehyung’s thighs as she surprisingly juts her arms out towards you. 

You perk up with round eyes, stunned. “D-do you want me to hold you, Eunbi?” You’re in shock as you point yourself and she nods, finding her nothing short of lovable as you peer at Taehyung with puppy eyes, his expressions loving. 

He carefully hands Eunbi over to you and your hands find purchase her. She immediately snuggles into your neck as she yawns and squirms a little, knowing she must be cranky from sitting for so long and the late hour. 

“Alright, baby Eunbi, let’s walk around for a bit.” You speak sweetly, presuming she’s exhausted, rising mindfully from your seat and clutching her protectively in your arms. You meander around the hospital corridor as you feel her yawn on your shoulder, softly patting her back as you soothe her. 

Taehyung becomes taken by the sight, smiling to himself warmly as he watches you naturally handle Eunbi with so much care, with so much tenderness and warmth, thinking your pretty hands were made to be nurturing.

So made for loving. 

He doesn’t even notice Jimin slip into the seat beside him, Jungkook off by the window where he seems occupied by a sudden phone call. 

“Hey, man.” 

“Hey, Jimin, what’s up?” 

“I’ve been dying to ask, but are you guys okay now? You and Y/N?” Jimin asks with care. 

Taehyung smiles at that, looking off towards you as you meet his gaze and smile at him, your eyes reminiscent of understanding, of blossoming love. “Yeah, we’re perfect.” 

Jimin takes a relieved breath and leans back in his chair as if he’s done a great deal. “Oh thank God, I was thinking my work went to waste.” 

Taehyung furrows his eyebrows. “What?” 

Jimin looks at his best friend and laughs awkwardly, redirecting the conversation. “Never mind, Tae. To be honest, I have another question I really need the answer to.”

“Which is..?” 

Jimin looks around himself carefully and leans in towards Taehyung, who leans in closer with folded arms. 

“Dude, how was the sex?” 

Taehyung draws back and purses his lips disapprovingly. “Jiminie, you know I don’t kiss and tell.” 

Jimin deflates. “Oh c’mon, I’m your best friend. I don’t need details, just a gist is good enough.” 

Taehyung decides to be amicable. “Fine, you want something?” 

Jimin eagerly nods as Taehyung then similarly flits around them, leaning closer and whispering. “Three words. Mind. Fucking. Blowing.” 

Jimin’s eyes go wide. “Wait, really?” 

“Oh, yeah, best I’ve ever had.” Taehyung confesses. “And it literally only gets better, she’s my fucking dream come true.” 

“Wow, you guys really are the perfect match.” Jimin compliments. “How’d you guys confess to each other? Was it romantic? Cheesy? One of those where you don’t even need to say it cause you already know?” 

“Wait,” Taehyung pauses, observing something. “How’d you know she’d confess too?” 

Jimin stiffens at that, caught red-handed. “Uh.. what? I totally couldn’t have known how Y/N already felt. Hey, Tae, stop trying to distract from the scratch marks and hickeys on your fucking neck. What’d you do, get mauled by a cat?” 

“Scratch marks?” Taehyung becomes confused. 

“Yeah, you’ve got some scratch marks, dude.” Jimin gestures at his own neck, to which Taehyung perplexedly feels at the base of his neck and feels some light stings, surprised he actually had scratches. 

“Oh fuck, she scratched me that hard?” He says quietly to himself as he feels an underlying sense of pride, but it leaves Jimin raising an eyebrow. “Pardon? You have scratches why?” 

Taehyung shrugs his shoulders, admitting bluntly. “I fuck her that good.”

Jimin’s genuinely shocked. “Jheez, what kind of feral ass sex are you guys having?” 

Taehyung honestly laughs recalling your recent sessions together, loving that only you and him will ever know the truth of your escapades. “The married kind.” Taehyung wiggles his eyebrows with mischief and mirth. 

“Ugh, don’t remind me, please. My parents were rude for dropping that bomb on me. I mean, who the fuck just tells their son first thing in the morning over the phone he’s getting married?” 

“Damn, did you know Jungkook’s getting an arranged marriage, too?” 

Jimin’s puppy eyes widen. “What? Oh God, did our parents just decide to be evil together?” 

“I mean, I’m happy with my arranged marriage.” Taehyung’s sights then fall to you, who’s now sat across the hall from him as you seem close to drifting off, but soothe Eunbi as she falls asleep in your arms, stroking her back while lightly rocking her in your comforting arms. 

And all Taehyung could think is that you’d be a wonderful mother. 

“That’s cause you guys.. are honestly really beautiful. Individually, and even better together.” Jimin genuinely compliments, and Taehyung softens at his words. 

“Thank you, Jiminie.” It’s with love Taehyung can’t stop looking at you, still dolled up in your pretty white dress he sincerely thought you looked like an angel in. 

“You really love her, don’t you?” Jimin asks beside him, watching the way his best friend gazes with hearts in his eyes, the look foreign, but it looks good on him. 

It doesn’t even take Taehyung a second. “I do, Jimin.” He admits it with his whole heart, not knowing how to voice how strongly he felt this way, but certain it’s everything he feels for you. “I really do.” 

��And I love that for you, Tae. I’m glad.. you finally have someone.” Jimin rests a reassuring hand against Taehyung’s shoulders, rubbing it supportively. 

Taehyung’s seconds from expressing his gratitude until all of a sudden, everyone’s interrupted by frantic yelling, as if someone’s in pain and the other’s responding rapidly. Namjoon comes hurtling out the door with a panicked tone. “Nurse, we need a nurse!” 

And that’s all you get before multiple nurses and the dedicated OBGYN come rushing in, determining Namjoon’s wife was dilated 10 cm, and whisked away for delivery.

You tap your leg incessantly, not understanding why you could feel the same nerves Namjoon must have right now, because all you can do is feel anxiety for them, question and overthink the millions of things that could go wrong during childbirth. 

It also wasn’t a good sight to see Namjoon’s wife enduring the pain of her contractions before she arrived in delivery, either, constantly raking your mind if that was the same pain you’d eventually go through one day. 

The idea crawls into your stomach and makes it churn, so focused on the idea of having your vagina ripped open until a warm hand of Taehyung’s lands on your back. 

“You okay, baby?” 

“Yeah, yeah..” You trail, taking a breath. “I’m fine.” Taehyung nonetheless encases your shoulders with an arm and tugs you to him, leaning onto his comforting body as his scent eases you. 

You relax in his hold, sleep riddling your eyes with it now having struck 3:30 in the morning, flashing around to see everyone else is either near knocked out or genuinely asleep. Seokjin had arrived with his wife and retrieved Eunbi, their little family of three deciding to stay considering Namjoon’s wife could be giving birth any time soon. 

You were glad to have finally met his wife, she was an eccentric and quite quirky woman, the perfect fit for Seokjin you’d observe. Their family looked lovely as Eunbi slept in Seokjin’s arms and his wife laid asleep on his shoulder. 

The hospital had become quiet, quiet enough that the day’s antics were catching up to you and you were drifting off, your head constantly falling as you try to remain awake. 

You fought your sleep until Taehyung secured a hand on your cheek and gently laid your head against his shoulder, tucking your hair behind your ear. He leans his own head on yours, no doubt exhaustion from today plaguing him too. 

Dreamland is sweeping everyone until suddenly Namjoon appears from the delivery room, the most shocked expression on his face in a hospital gown. 

Taehyung perks up and grabs everyone’s attention, all eyes falling to Namjoon. “Hyung, is everything okay?” 

Namjoon’s so nonplussed as he stares at his hands in gloves, barely ablr to construct a sentence “.. I-I’m a father.” His shocked expression melts into a gratified smile as he laughs, eyes glassy and filled with emotion.

“I-I held him.. I held my son. I’m a father, guys, I’m a dad!” He becomes elated, triumphantly holding fists in the air as everyone rises from their seats cheering. 

“Holy shit, Joon, that’s amazing! You’re a father!” Seokjin gets up to engulf his brother in a hug, patting his back supportively as the rest of the boys hoot and holler. 

“Fuck yeah, we have another kid in the gang!” Jungkook cheers enthusiastically as Jimin tuts him. 

“Jungkook, there’s a Goddamn sleeping child.” He gestures towards Eunbi who snoozes away in her mom’s arms. “But anywho, congratulations, Namjoon!” 

“Namjoon-hyung, this is insane. You’re going to be the best father, I know it.” Taehyung offers sweetly, to which you speak up next to him. “Namjoon, is your wife alright?” 

“Oh, yeah, she’s perfect, thank God. She didn’t have too many complications and it was a natural birth.” Namjoon finished off hugging his friends as he directs his attention to everyone. “My wife’s a little tired, but she said she’s okay with visitors. Would anyone like to meet my son?” 

You all without a doubt agree, your group of friends being careful to mind space and boundaries as you all file in to catch view of Namjoon’s adorable little son sleeping on his wife’s chest. She seems extremely tired, drifting in and out of consciousness as Namjoon gently strokes her hair. 

“Honey, the guys and their wives are here.” She flutters her exhausted eyes open, looking at Namjoon before her eyes flit around the room, smiling lightly when she sees everyone. “They’d like to meet our son.” 

“Of course, they can meet him.” Her voice sounds weak, though willing. 

Everyone very carefully takes turns meeting their little son, only letting the pairs of people meet them to give Namjoon’s wife much needed space and privacy. Namjoon carefully watches over his wife, allowing everyone to happily talk and catch view of the perfect little newborn. 

When it comes to yours and Taehyung’s turn, he steps next to Namjoon and smiles warmly at the baby, meeting Namjoon’s wife before he turns towards you, extending his hand. 

“Come, Princess.” You intertwine your hands with his as you shyly step forward, tentative about meeting Namjoon’s wife and his baby. 

“I believe you two haven’t met before.” Taehyung earns a little laugh from the group as he sheepishly presents you to Namjoon’s wife, who despite being so tired, is very warm and sweet. 

“Y/N.. wow, you’re so pretty.” She lightly laughs. “Now I know why Taehyung calls you a princess.” She sounds so genuine and kind, and you laugh as a hand of yours naturally comes to rest atop hers, a gesture of friendship. 

“Oh, please, you just went through hell and you look drop dead gorgeous.” 

“Oh, hun, this was worse than hell. I’m never letting Namjoon touch me ever again.” She quips as you giggle, Namjoon holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Although, if it means getting this little guy, I’d really do it all over again.” 

She dotes on her small son sleeping peacefully atop her chest, so tranquil and quiet a moment, you notice how serene the scene looks. 

“Your son’s beautiful, just like you two.” 

“Oh, please.” She says. “It’s all Joon, I’m surprised our son wasn’t born with a book in his hands.” 

“Hey, any good looks he gets is all from you, honey.” Namjoon compliments, doting on his little family in the hospital bed. 

“Whatever you say, husband.” Namjoon’s wife then turns her attention towards you. “Besides, if anyone’s going to make pretty babies it’d be these two. They’re gorgeous together.” 

You and Taehyung similarly fall into off-guard looks, Taehyung’s resting hand on your shoulder giving you a hesitant squeeze. You realize you and Taehyung haven’t really had the talk about kids, let alone your future together being quite fresh in your boundaries. You turn around to peer up at him as he also seems apprehensive about the subject, expressions losing communication. 

Namjoon notices in a flash and changes the topic. “Honey, we need to think of names for our boy. We should do it fast before anyone steals the names we’ve thought of.” 

Namjoon’s wife then laughs a little, nodding her head as her eyes flutter sleepily. 

“We should get going, you two really need some rest after today.” Taehyung suggests as he pats your shoulder, and you rise from the hospital bed. “Yeah, you guys should really get some sleep, okay?’ 

“Thank you for coming, you two. And thank you for staying so late.” Namjoon expresses his gratitude as his wife perks up. “Thank you for seeing me, and it was great meeting you, Y/N. You’re both always lovely to meet.” 

You smile shyly as Taehyung intertwines his hand with yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze as he grins back. “Thank you. We’ll be on our way, then. Take care.” 

“Take care!” 

You catch a glimpse of the perfect little family huddled together happily, fitting into Taehyung’s side as he walks you out the hospital after bidding farewell to everyone else, and all that occupies your mind is how lovely it would be to have your own family. 

And share one with Taehyung. 

“So, what was that about me being loud?” You ask with folded arms as you sit in the passenger seat of Taehyung’s Genesis, sporting another one of his cars tonight. “You can’t even make me scream, Kim.” 

Taehyung quirks an eyebrow from where he’s seated, hand snug on the steering as the rests the other against your thigh. “Pardon me? I clearly remember you screaming my name in my office yesterday. Want me to pull up the security camera footage and have a listen?” 

“What the fuck, you have security cameras in your office?!” 

Taehyung snickers evilly, stifling the laugh seeing your fuming expression. “I’m kidding, baby. I wouldn’t record you or us without your permission.” 

You acquiesce a little, folding your arms as you recline in your seat and hmph. A moment passes before Taehyung speaks again. 

“So.. is that a no to being recorded?” 

“No, I don’t mind being recorded as long as it’s your phone.” You shrug as you admit.

“Mm, Princess is so dirty.” He snakes his hand further inside your thigh as he drives, gripping it temptingly. “Especially with the photos and videos I got yesterday?” He hisses pleasurably, biting his lip. “Fuck, I’m definitely watching those whenever I’m away from you on business trips.” 

“And what am I supposed to do? You won’t even let me touch myself.” You watch Taehyung change lanes in the city, trying to stop your core from alighting at his tight grip on you. 

“I don’t mind filming myself or taking pictures, either. I know you’ll miss my cock.” He admits proudly, stifling a smug grin as you narrow your eyes at him. 

“Whatever, you still can’t make me scream, Kim.” 

“You’re still on that? You know Jimin noticed your scratch marks on me today? Don’t think you���re staying silent if I’m fucking you that good, babe.” 

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Please, you just love putting your kids inside me.” 

“I like making love to the love of my life, yes.” He glances over at you, and he discerns you don’t seem to be in the best mood, noticing there’s a word you uttered that sparked his attention. 

There’s a silence for a bit, watching the quiet city at night pass you by while Taehyung glances at your moonlit skin. 

“Can I take you somewhere?” 

Your confused eyes turn to him, viewing the handsome way he flexes his jaw and drives effortlessly, the night’s subdued light gracing his stunning features. “Take me where?” 

He smiles knowingly, admiring the way his cheeks rise and presents his pretty teeth. “You’ll see.” 

Taehyung turns the wheel as he drives up an empty, grassy hill, stopping the car only to do a three-point turn and reverse it backwards. It takes your whole being to keep your hormones controlled when he grips the back of your seat while doing so, watching him work his car like magic and it’s the sexiest thing ever. 

You’re confused he’s pulled it into a certain flat area with old wooden railings, seeing that it was high enough to overlook much of Seoul’s landscape. You turn to Taehyung as he secures the SUV in place, the trunk facing the fence. 

“What’s this place, Tae?” Your expectant eyes follow him as he kills the engine, unbuckling his seatbelt as he smiles over at you. 

“Come with me.” He says sweetly, to which you fill with anticipation as you click out of your seatbelt. You both abandon the front seats as you follow Taehyung to the back, meeting him there as you watch him puzzled. 

He flashes you his smile, jutting out his hand to protect your head when he pops open the trunk. He lets it settle above before he seats himself inside, impressed by how spacious and cozy the back of the Hyundai’s trunk was, Taehyung sitting happily as he pats the spot next to him. 

Your heart smiles, walking over and plopping down next him, fitting into his side as Taehyung leans back on his palms, asking him curiously. “Why are we here, Taehyung?” 

He simply smiles, peering upwards. “The sky.” 

You follow his sight and you’re welcomed by hundreds of little stars speckling across the night sky, fascinated by the pretty image. “Oh my God,” your mouth falls agape, marveling at them as Taehyung chuckles. 

“I know, right?” He looks at your delighted face, and he’s sincerely falling all over again for the way the stars shimmer in your cute, doe eyes. “It also has the cityscape in front.. our two favourite things.” He says, as you think that’s nothing short of adorable. 

“I came here often when I was younger, I used to live in an upscale neighbourhood nearby.” 

“Oh, you found this place?” 

“Mhm.” Taehyung nods. “I was always more of the roam around type, never stayed in one place. I liked coming here to just think, it was always so serene.. to be able to look at everything from up here.” 

You’re blown away by the sight, leaning closer to Taehyung as you soak everything in. “You’re right, this is beautiful, Taehyung. Thank you for bringing me here.” You express your gratitude in earnest, leaning your head against his shoulder as he brings a hand to stroke your waist. “It’s no problem, Princess.” 

You fall silent, the quiet, tranquil moment causing you to drift into thought, especially about something earlier. “Taehyung... I wanted to ask you something.” 

“What’s up, angel?” 

You fidget a little, drawing useless patterns on Taehyung’s thigh. “So.. um... kids..” 

You feel Taehyung tense for a moment next to you. “What.. about them?” 

“We’ve never had the talk about kids, have we?” 

“Do you want to have the talk?” 

“Yeah, I kind of do.” You pause, smoothing over his knee. “How.. do you feel about kids?” 

“Well, if you haven’t already noticed.. I have an impreg kink. I think that says a lot.” He lightly chuckles as it invites you to laugh too, nuzzling your head against his warm chest to hide yourself. 

“By the way, I’m sorry for asking this so late, but.. do you take birth control?” His attentive, curious eyes fall to you. “I just noticed you’ve always asked me to come inside you, so I assumed you’re on birth control, or another method? I don’t mean to be invasive, just want to know about you, is all.” 

You soften at his consideration, answering honestly. “Yeah, I take birth control. Not the pill or anything, the side effects are too much for me. I get a monthly shot.” You swing your legs as you explain to him, Taehyung acknowledging you. 

“Ooh, I see why that’s better. I’ll come with you to your appointments from now on.” He promises as you smile him a thank you, Taehyung killing the silence once again. “But in all seriousness, I adore kids.” 

“Really? You do?” 

“Mhm.” He nods his head, deep voice a complete contrast to how adorable he is as he speaks. “Being a father.. is a dream of mine.” 

You love how you get to learn these little things about Taehyung, finding it wonderful you get to know him better, listen to him open up and feel him trust you as he does so. “That’s a lovely dream, Taehyung.” 

“Thank you.” He grins to himself. “What about you? How does my Princess feel about kids?” 

“I.. really love them. I’ve always wanted to be a mom,” you grow a little shy, heart suddenly brimming with emotion. “I’ve always wanted.. to be the mom I never had.” You voice it so quietly, timidly as your eyes fall to nothing in particular, and Taehyung’s hand smooths your side affectionately, clutching you closer as he senses the weight in your chest.  

You drape your legs over Taehyung’s as you cuddle into him closer, getting a drift of a small chill. You hug yourself a little, lost in the feeling of basking in Taehyung’s presence and comforting scent until you feel him shift underneath you, suddenly having your shoulders draped by his warm suit jacket. 

You peer up at him with round eyes. “Oh, but Tae, you’ll get cold-” 

“It’s okay, I’m a furnace, remember?” He smiles reassuringly, encircling you with an arm and tugging you to lean against him again. 

You feel your chest flutter, gripping his jacket over your shoulders as you recline on him, chatter escaping your lips. “How many kids do you want?” 

Taehyung pulls his lips back guiltily, reluctant. “Um.. you’re gonna hate me for this.” 

You quirk your eyebrows. “Why?” 

“... I want five kids.” 

You immediately lift off his shoulder scandalized. “You want what?!” 

He scratched the back of his neck. “Um, five kids? I want four boys and a little girl.” 

“Why, Taehyung? Tell me why?” 

“What, I just really love kids, okay? And I want one little girl so she can be my princess and I can spoil her.” 

You pout a little. “But I thought I was your Princess.” 

He adores your little lips, stroking your hair softly as he chuckles a little to himself. “When we have kids, you’ll be my queen, baby.” 

You blush at his sentiment and the pet name, though feign annoyance nonetheless. “What-whatever. Unless you’re the one pushing 5 kids out of you, we’re not having five.” 

“But Jagiyaa..” Taehyung whines. 

“Nope, you heard me. I just heard Joon’s wife push out one kid and that was enough. I’m not doing that five times.” 

“But I want five.” 

“No, Taehyung, three is enough. You already know how small my vagina is, do you really think I can handle giving birth five times? Are you trying to kill me?” 

“Okay, fine. I’ll be okay with 3.” He pouts a little, feeling guilty about his bottom lip jutting out. “Look, baby, you’ll be the one who has to deal with my annoying pregnancy hormones anyway, I don’t think you want that.” 

“What?” Taehyung seems offended. “For your information, I can’t wait until you’re pregnant. I want to see you all round and pretty with our baby.” 

“I’ll look bad when I’m pregnant, Taehyung.” 

Taehyung now seems even more offended. “No you won’t, you’ll look as pretty as the day I met you.” 

Tears nearly come to your eyes at his words, thinking nobody else is as loving as Taehyung, nobody as kind and thoughtful and wonderful, and you cave as you gaze at the cityscape before you, but all your heart finds the most beautiful is Taehyung.  

You chuckle a little at the realization, heart high on emotion anyway. “I love you, Tae...” You snuggle into him more, hugging his jacket around you as you shrink into his comforting hold. 

“I love you more, Y/N.” He kisses the top of your head as you both nestle closer together, watching the city lights gleam and the stars shimmer in the sky. 

“You don’t want kids now, though, do you?” You perk up. “I mean, we’re still fairly young.” 

“Oh, yeah, I don’t think anytime soon. I want to live out our life as a married couple.” Taehyung muses. “There’s so many places I want to take you, not just in Seoul or Korea, but around the world. Life is just full of so many sceneries.. and I want to see them all with you.” He holds you near and dear, your heart warming at his sincere words while he strokes your hair affectionately.  

“I agree. Isn’t it funny how it feels like we’re dating for the first time, but we’re actually married?” 

“Kind of, it’s weird we can go from talking about kids to doing first-time couple things.” 

“Yeah, we didn’t really get the whole dating experience, just went straight to marriage.” Your mind falls into a spiraling thought, something always bugged you. “There’s so much for us to experience but we’ve only fallen in love now.. like we’ve done it wrong or something.. or it’s out of order? It’s like we’ve already reached the end of the cycle when we’ve just started.” 

You grow a little upset by the out of step sequence of things between you and Taehyung, distracted by the daunting thoughts until you feel Taehyung’s hand come up to your chin, making you face him as your doe eyes find his loving ones. 

He speaks sweetly, reassuringly. “Hey, nothing’s wrong with being husband and wife first, Y/N. It just means we’ll have a lifetime to fall in love over and over and over again, until we realize a lifetime isn’t even enough.” 

Taehyung smiles at you then, your eyes enraptured by his as he brings his lips to yours, kissing them passionately, sweetly. You smile into the kiss, deepening it as you chase the feeling of his mouth against yours. Your heart smiles at the message he’s conveying, that what you two have is something to be felt forever, and quite frankly, you don’t see a life where you don’t feel this way about Taehyung, anyway. 

The kiss grows a little fiery when both of Taehyung’s hands find the junction of your waist, smoothing over your sides as you feel something shoot down to your core. The latent horniness he left you with earlier today revisits you, making out with him shamelessly as you swing a leg over his thighs eagerly, straddling him in an instant. 

This time your tongue deliciously pokes into his mouth, Taehyung groaning as he lets you in and works to explore yours in return. Your hips are already rutting against his crotch, chasing the feeling of his perfect cock nestled in your folds as he bucks up into you with a low moan.

Your hand ends up snaking down to his belt, kissing him fervently as you attempt to undo the buckle as Taehyung disconnects, smug and confident. 

“Already want to make a baby, Princess? Thought you said you wanted to wait.” 

You snort. “With a husband like you, I’m ready for baby-making any time.” You reconnect your lips, kissing him messily and desperately as he speaks in between your movements. 

“Well, I’ve always wanted to fuck my Princess under the stars.” Taehyung then suddenly grabs onto your hips and you’re underneath him in a flash, Taehyung hovering over you as he peers down at you hungrily, carnally. “But you’re gonna add baby-making to it all? God, I’m falling in love with you all over again.” 

Taehyung loses his mind as he crashes his lips against yours, kissing and sucking and mouthing ravishingly as he works to get you undressed, shutting the SUV’s trunk to supply you with warmth. 

“Thought you said you wanted to wait too, Kim? Isn’t your thing love-making instead of baby-making?” 

“As long as it’s you, I’m both.” He begins kissing down your throat, giggling as he nuzzles his face into your neck. “Besides, I can never stop fucking you, you’re my drug and I’m addicted.” 

He resurfaces to kiss your lips as Taehyung’s hands hook onto your underwear, pulling them down your legs as you capture his jaw in your hands, whispering hotly against his lips. 

“Then don’t ever stop, Taehyung.” 

He cracks the lightest of smirks, biting his bottom lip before colliding his mouth with yours, devouring you whole. Your mind’s spinning as he traverses down to the valley of your breasts, hands smoothing your waist until he suddenly pops off your mouth. 

“Wait a second.” He halts himself as he reaches over to the side and clicks a button inside the car, tilting your head in question until you see a hatch open up above you and Taehyung, revealing a transparent window that looked out at the starry sky. 

You marvel at it, delighted face returning to Taehyung. “Oh my God, what’s that for?” 

He grins sexily, wetting his full lips. “I’m fucking my Princess under the stars like she deserves, remember?” And he collides his mouth with yours again, swallowing the gleeful smile that graces your face as you tug him closer, legs grappling around his torso. 

And that night, all you feel is Taehyung slide in and out of you, make you his by the zealous passion in his movements. His thick cock perfectly hits the spongy spots inside you, and your walls pulsate and trap him inside until you’re moaning his name, coming multiple times at the work of his loving, sinful hips.

His lips leave deep kisses in his lustful wake, adoring every mark he leaves behind on your shuddering body as he whispers sweet nothings, praises of how beautiful a mother you would be, how many indulgent times he’ll fuck your kids into you to create your own little family. 

And you lose your mind, meet the doorstep of heaven as Taehyung makes love to you until dawn. 

So when your heated, naked bodies are draped underneath a single throw blanket, sighing out together as he softly fucks you, the gentle, golden sunrise bleeds into the back of his car where promises of forever and more are made to one another. Promises of adventure, of passion, of family and happiness.

And most of all, a lifetime of falling in love over and over and over again. 

prev. ↞ || ↠ next || masterlist

tags : @thedarkwinterrose @ayujaded @couldbeyourlast @ladyarmanto @anpanman-sonyeondan @apollukee @blueevelvt @taesluttt @scalubera @laurynne5 @dreamsindreamss @thequeen-kat @awsome-small-k @wrecklesssly @kweenhu @jalexad @koorby-blog @bangforever @dyriddle​ @aianloveseven @waves-and-woods @hoefortaeshands @veronawrites @nightapple4jk @wataemelonz @aomi-nabi @katbonv @hantaev @jinpuddin @usamizuki @wooya1224 @bambuzlee @jenotation @tangledsparkles @forbts-only @dumplingley @ccmemoirs @kleritata @thelilbutifulthings @maygem2780 @lachimolala95 @betysotelo18 @prettycoolting @jeonlovers @honeyboocal @preciouschimine @enchantaeduniverse @hakko-bby @mrs-jeonjk @marvel-ing-at-it-all @rvdls96 @vaekth @taehyungkittyuwu @multistanbitxh @vantaesy @invincibletaetae @hisbutton-nose @cafe-gemini @ot7central @iwanttohitmyself @rlynotme @heyitsgracex @mama-m0chi @derinxfam​ @crystalizedmagic @yoonchrisgullwrites @allie-mcginn @vintageroses10 @ephemeralkookie @rocketxme @honey-littlegirl @croctusjuice @k-fb @itzybitzylovebug @sunas-bby @sugaslittlekookies @kimsamsoon95 @ppeachyttae @defjjks @sakurauchiha2018 @kbiancahirang @highkey-fangirling @bangtan-uwu @3sriracha @lovelyseomin @zippytheshark37 @my-current-mood-is @seolarsyj @drumsofheaven @moonsjoons @svftbaby @geekz077 @jeonchokoolate @honeyspillings @bigtiddies44 @sereineity @nikkiordonez12 @sugasbabiie @hadatita @fromthedt @blancheinneverland @jinsonaz @bluesharksandfish @longtimenospooning-luci @aishdere @levrantae @imaginereaderonly @taehyoungmoney @defnotjolie @worldofhyeri @neverthefirstchoice @blvckbarnes @taebabie11 @pootaetoo @veryberysleepy ​“”

[beyondspaceandstars]

The Sleeping Situation

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: minor mentions of blood, minor (non-descriptive) violence Summary: You finally convince Bucky to sleep with you in the bed, as opposed to the floor, but you find it doesn't exactly go as smoothly as you had hoped it would, leading to some taunting emotions and revelations. A/N: This one went over pretty well on ao3 so fingers-crossed y’all enjoy too! idk how different audiences are - i just like sharing my work :)

Masterlist

You had finally convinced him. After weeks of hints and attempting, he had finally placed himself beneath the duvet, snuggled up right next to your body. 
It was something close to a miracle. Bucky had been sleeping on the floor for as long as you could remember. It had become really something you accepted — like clockwork, after watching a show or movie in the bed, he’d let you doze off then untangle himself to go to the living room.

When you first moved in, he didn’t think you really noticed. He’d always be up before you anyways, nothing seeming out of place but as if you possessed some sixth sense, you could always feel Bucky’s arms leave your waist as he went to retire in the living room.

During attempts at bringing up the bed, Bucky would dismiss it, saying he just hated how soft it was. He couldn’t get comfortable. He wasn’t used to it at all. And while you didn’t doubt this for a second, you still felt something deeper worries had been brewing.

You had decided to start small by having Bucky stay cuddling after your nightly movie viewing. You two would lay in the bed, staring at the ceiling, mindlessly talking about whatever was going on with your days. He seemed at peace with this until your eyes started drooping. Within seconds, the grip on your waist would vanish and he was heading out.

It was fine, though, since you had your moment together and he had found some way to relax in the bed. While you never wanted to push him, you wanted him at least content.

The next level was napping. After work, nearly every day, you’d announce you were laying down for a nap and ask Bucky if he was tired. Usually, he’d just shake his head. But one day he looked absolutely spent and wordlessly followed you into the room. A thrown arm around you loosely, he was able to get some shut-eye…for about 15 minutes. Soon he was uncomfortable and placing a kiss on your cheek, following it with a recoil of his touch. Still, you were taking the win and slowly but surely, the time spent napping would go up. Days bast but eventually he was up to an hour in the bed, napping peacefully.

When he finally decided to take the step to join you for a full eight hours in the queen-sized bed, you were quite shocked but easily overwhelmed with joy.

The movie had just ended and you were closing the laptop when Bucky left the bed. You frowned, watching his figure disappear to the bathroom, worried he was already backing out before cuddles and pillow talk. But you didn’t say anything and instead got comfortable on your side (well — the whole thing could’ve been your side at this point).

As you drifted off, a heavy arm snaked its way around you as you felt the other side of the bed dip. Blinking your eyes opened, you looked over your shoulder and was greeted by a nervous-looking Bucky staring back at you.

You turned to face him and asked, "Everything okay, honey?"

He nodded, "I- I’m going to try- try sleeping here if that’s okay."

Your eyes beamed as a smile you couldn’t suppress made its way to your face. "Of course," you said and placed a good night kiss on his lips. "Sleep well."

"You too, doll," Bucky mumbled and placed another kiss on your forehead. You curled up into him, feeling that he got more relaxed and his heartbeat went steady, drifting off to sleep.

***

Shaking. You were disrupted by something…shaking. Violently. Your first thought as you blinked, waking yourself out of your dazed sleep, was that a spontaneous earthquake was happening.

Except once your mind adjusted, it didn’t take very long to realize the mattress was the only thing shaking — and was the result of Bucky twisting and turning in fear next to you, lost in a nightmare. At some point, he must’ve untangled your cuddling bodies but thankfully that allowed you to sit up quickly, not trapped under whatever was happening.

You watched him, quite stunned to see Bucky thrashing around uncontrollably as whatever images and scenarios took over his brain. You didn’t really know what to do. All your brain could focus on was getting him out of his own thought. You needed him to calm down and know he was perfectly safe.

"Bucky?" You mumbled, your voice scratchy from the tears and fears creeping up. He didn’t react, only whispered some words to himself that you didn’t understand.

You hesitantly reached out for him, placing an experimental touch on his shoulder. He didn’t react at first so you called out his name again and tried shaking him. That was apparently not the right move because the next thing you knew, you were being flung off the bed, the side of your face against your bedside table on your way down. You landed ungracefully on your side, groaning at the unexpected pain.

The fall must’ve been loud enough because the next thing you could comprehend was watching the bed and seeing a very confused and dazed Bucky sit up. He was looking around the dark room, sweaty and anxious. When your eyes met, any color left in him faded. You could practically see the gears turning as he realized what he had done. You on the other hand were still quite surprised by the incident, simply choosing to stare at your boyfriend, watching him scramble off the bed and kneel at your side.

"Doll?" Bucky asked right beside you but his voice sounded so far away.

Taking some deep breaths, your shaky hand came up to your cheek as you felt something wet. Looking at your fingers, it was a sad mix of tears and blood.

A hand being placed on your shoulder made you snap back. You jerked away, turning towards your boyfriend. Bucky was practically frozen watching you, hands in the air, as you rushed to put space between you two.

Realizing the consequences of your actions, your heart sunk and you began apologizing. "Sorry, sorry," you mumbled, trying to furiously wipe away the tears and blood. "I- What happened? Are you okay?" You situated yourself to sit criss-cross in front of him.

"Am I okay?" Bucky shook his head in disbelief. "Are you okay? I- I’m sorry. God, I don’t even know how to apologize for this I am- I am so sorry, doll, I didn’t mean it. It wasn’t me, I swear, it- I had a nightmare and I just- I don’t know what happened." He was rambling, body shaking as he didn’t know what to do. Where to begin. How to explain. His mind was torn as a part of him wanted to hold you… And the other part wanted to leave you forever, utterly terrified of himself.

"Yeah, you seemed a bit upset," you mumbled, trying to hold your hand to your scraped cheek. Bucky saw your struggle and darted to the bathroom to get a washcloth, offering all he could as his words were failing. He handed it to you then took his seat again on the floor.

You dabbed your skin, checking the cloth as the bleeding slowed down. You weren’t sure what to say, either.

"I didn’t know what to do," you finally whispered, looking down at the carpet beneath you. "You were shaking and tossing and- and I just wanted you to wake up. To know you were fine. You seemed so scared-,"

"Alright, alright," Bucky mumbled, cutting you off as he saw you beginning to get worked up. Your body was shaking now as you recalled the last few minutes. The pure suddenness and terror that took over the room. He placed an experimental touch on your knee and, thankfully, you didn’t jump away. "You were fine, doll. This isn’t your fault. I- I knew I wasn’t ready to sleep with anyone and I got ahead of myself and now… Look what happened. God, what have I done?"

His jaw clenched as he spat out the words. You jumped slightly.

"Bucky, you didn’t mean to-,"

"But I did it," he said. "I hurt you and now I think maybe this just isn’t…" He faded off, his hand leaving your knee. He turned towards the bed as you tried searching him for anything, any answer.

"James, don’t." You shook your head. Bucky’s head whipped back to you as he heard the anger, the seriousness, in your voice. "Don’t say whatever you’re going to say. Let’s just go back to sleep and we can figure stuff out in the morning."

Bucky bit his tongue. He just nodded at your request, seriously not trusting his words anymore. He had half the mind to walk out, disappear into the world without you, all in the name of keeping you safe. And like the mind-reader you could be, you knew it. You saw it in his entire demeanor. He was practically planning an escape route at that very moment.

You two finally stood up from the floor. After disregarding the washcloth, you found your way back under the duvet. Bucky wordlessly gathered a blanket and left for the living room, knowing very well this bed was going to be the last place he fell asleep for a long time.

"Bucky," you called out as you were turned away from him. He stopped in the doorway. "To talk in the morning you have to actually be here."

He didn’t respond and instead just nodded his head as if you could see it. Then he promptly exited the room.

While the bleeding had stopped, the tears weren’t as you only heard the sound of Bucky walking to the living room.

***

Bucky was there in the morning and you talked — you. Only you could formulate words as difficult as it was while Bucky sat across from you. The guilt, shame, the exhaustion, all of it was painted on his normally sweet face.

You had told him you were fine, were feeling better. You were going to be okay. You understood the bed situation and wouldn’t pressure him into sleeping anywhere he was uncomfortable. You just desperately wanted him to be okay, to feel safe and happy in this space with you. Bucky just nodded along as you began attempting to write out a plan in case that had happened again. Nothing seemed to bring a true conclusion but there was at least the idea that there’d be no more touching of either person in their sleep, at least for the time being. It crushed you both, but neither of you commented.

He didn’t really offer much input besides agreeing with your points. Every other word out of his mouth was "sorry" so much so to the point you had to beg him to stop it.

He mostly just listened which you generally would enjoy from any man but in this case, you knew it gave his brain time to wander. Probably still planning how he would get himself out of his. But you didn’t want him gone. He was practically the perfect significant other in every sense. No one had ever treated you with such kindness and respect. Showered you with romance and kisses. Surprised you with date nights and flowers. You were just at a bump in the road and you didn’t want to get stuck behind it so easily.

Few days had passed and stuff seemed to be edging back towards normal. He had begun even holding your hand again, just a gentle touch to work his way up, reminding you greatly of when you first started dating, but you were welcoming it all with great patience.

You were standing at the kitchen counter cutting up vegetables for dinner when Bucky came home. He had a therapy appointment that day and usually emotions could be all over the place when he came home. Some days were good, some days everything would get under his skin.

Today, though, he seemed just… fine. He came in quietly and planted a quick kiss on your cheek before grabbing a beer from the fridge. He asked if you needed any help and when you shook your head, he went over to sit on the couch, watching whatever reality show you had mindlessly playing.

Moments passed and you had just begun sautéing the cut-up veggies when Bucky spoke, cutting through the silence quite surprisingly.

"I told her what happened," Bucky said softly. You froze, eyes trained on the skillet in front of you. His therapist. He had told her.

"Oh?" You asked, silently cringing at your stupid response. Neither of you had exactly brought up the incident since that morning after. And if anyone was going to resurface it, you had assumed it’d be you, so hear him so casual was making your heart pound.

"Mhm," he hummed. "I told her my first reaction was to leave."

"Bucky-,"

Footsteps started towards you, stopping at the little kitchen bar. You could feel him watching you as you tried focusing on the cooking produce. Your breath started to get caught in your throat, so much worry and concern washing over you.

"She wanted you to come in one session," Bucky tapped his fingers on the counter. "So we can talk."

You frowned and finally turned towards him. Worry was splashed everywhere on his face. Your heart practically sobbed. "Bucky, we did talk about it."

He shook his head profusely. "No, you talked," A beat. "I stood there like a statue, thinking of ways to leave you. Ways to get out of this so I’d never had to see that scared, upset look on your face ever again. So I’d never have to cause you any more pain than I already have. But I’ve come to realize I can’t do that because I love you too much and I- I can’t run away from you or anything. I’m going to try… No, I will make it right."

Your heart sank at his confessions. He loved you — a word he had never explicitly said before. A four-letter word he had never stood there and outwardly said. You let out a light sob and went around the kitchen counter, throwing your arms around his neck. He was shocked at first, maybe even a bit unsure, but you weren’t letting go, he realized, until he held you back.

"I love you, too," you eventually mumbled between the tears. You pulled away slightly, keeping your hands on his arms while his hands rested comfortably at your waist. Just feeling his touch had you melting all over again. "We’re going to be okay, Buck. It’s going to be fine."

He nodded, his eyes searching over your face as the scrape on your cheek was just still barely visible. It was going away fast but he didn’t think he could ever unsee it. "You’re right, doll, we’ll be okay. I’m working on it."

You gave a small smile. "You can’t be perfect, Bucky."

"Maybe not," Bucky shrugged as his hand found its way to your face, caressing your unharmed cheek. "But I at least gotta try to be perfect for you."

You sighed, leaning into the loving touch. Looking in his eyes you could kind of see that it truly was going to be okay. He looked so passionate and dedicated when he stared at you like you were it in the world. The only thing there. It made your soul sing and you hoped he saw it in you, too. "You are, honey. You already are."

[fullfiresiren]

beauty of the dawn

jujutsu kaisen

fushiguro toji x reader

The notion of a loving family was something foreign to Fushiguro Toji. Family, to him, was a bitter word -- full of hate and abhorrence. Abandonment and fear were a commonality in his own childhood. But in you, he finds a warmth he didn’t think he deserved – a home he craved, a love that makes him feel safe; full of gentle touches and soft kisses. But he’s scared. He's broken, and angry, and he knows the threat of his family is always lurking close, snapping at his heels, ready to devour. You bring the notion of family to his doorstep, and he spooks. He panics. He can’t let them find you, he can’t and he has to give up the only feeling of warmth he has ever known to do so.

It haunts him forever – leaving behind the only woman he ever loved, and a child he will never know.

word count: 3.8k.

notes: *inhales* ANGST— lmao but really, I live for it. Toji may be a bad person, but I suck dick, not morals, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ bro I fr don’t even know what came over me. This has been like the smallest headcannon for me and somehow it turned into this horribly sad piece, and although Toji is a dick, I also think he is an incredibly complex character that, at the end of it all, was just a desperate father trying to look out for his child. I think he deserves much more than he got, and he kinda gets shat on in this fic lmao I'm so fuCKING SORRY FOR THAT--

warnings: nsfw/18+, angst, hurt no comfort, abandonment, unplanned pregnancy, pregnant reader

“Take me,” he prays, panting secrets that fall from his lips onto your soft skin; promises of pleasure as he breeds you deep. “Take all of me.”

And you do – over, and over, and over again.

Hilting him to the deepest part of yourself, and holding him close, so close, his breath a hot ghost across your face as he leans his forehead against yours. You keep him there until he is finished, taking his seed like it was sacrament. He gives you everything he has to offer, and only when you have slipped into a light slumber does he pull away.

He never strays far, though, and he cannot stay away for long. You are like sweet honey and warm sunsets; the breathing embodiment of a life he was never before privy to – the promise of something better; a miracle. Far from the cold depravity and sharp pain of his own family, in you, he found only warm touches, and words of tender affection. Toji feels so overwhelmed by the amount of love he has for you, that sometimes it’s unbearable. He feels so happy he could die.

He is not an honest man, by any means. He kills for a vocation -- and enjoys it, too. It’s something he’s good at. It’s an easy way to make money, and it helps him pay for his half of the rent on the meagre apartment you share. It also lets him keep the fridge full, make sure you’re always warm, and that you’re never without. He doesn’t really care about himself or what he has to do – so long as you’re happy.

The weight of his body is always heavy between your thighs, his chest solid, thrusts slow and deep, stretching you, making a perfect fit for himself inside you. He likes drawing it out – each time he takes you. He enjoys seeing you beg for release, relishes the way your tears slide down your flushed cheeks, because he likes being the one to kiss them away, knowing he is the only one who ever makes you feel this good. His name sounds so perfect when it falls from your lips at your height of ecstasy, and the way you take him in has him swearing he can see heaven.

You see a side of him that no one else does, but he’s dark, he’s toxic. The amount of sadness in his soul is challenged only by the sheer force of his anger. He's sure that he wasn’t always like this, but... he can’t really remember a time when he wasn’t. Everyone and everything was his enemy. He’s never really told you much about his family, or his past. His childhood had been dark, you assumed, based on the way he flinched around children, and steered clear of any conversational topics that included them or parental figures.

Toji Fushiguro was untouchable to everyone, and only just tangible to you.

He wants to be able to give you everything. He wants to lay his head on your chest in the depths of the night when he’s feeling lost, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat to guide him home. He wants to come home every night, no matter what happens to him throughout the day, and be able to feel the brush of your soft lips; to taste your tongue with his – god – he wants to. But he’s afraid. He’s scared. If he gives you everything... if he shows you who he really is... what happens if you see something you don’t like? Will you pull away from him? Will you cast him out and abandon him – just like his family did? Toji isn’t feeble by any sense of the word, but he thinks that would be the one thing that would break him.

That’s why he’s only let you see glimpses... and only every now and then.

He’s just so miserable when he’s alone. He’s angry at the world, and you’re the only thing that soothes him. The only thing he has ever loved.

You’re staring at yourself in the mirror when he comes home, locked away in the too-small bathroom. You hear the keys turning in the lock; a signal of his arrival, and the door to your apartment opens, bringing with it sounds of paper bags crinkling, keys being tossed into their bowl, and huffing exhales as he struggles to kick his heavy boots off.

“Toji?”

“I’m home!” he calls, his voice a deep timbre in his chest, smooth like rich oak.

You follow it, leaving the safe space of your bathroom to find him, and when you pass the threshold into your small kitchen, he’s lifting bags of fresh groceries onto what little counter space you have. The movement carries with it droplets from an October rain that had caught him by surprise on his walk home, ones that hang from the edges of his black hair and drip down onto his damp black shirt.

“Toji,” you repeat, beaming as you bound into your small kitchen. “I have wonderful news!”

He spares you a glance between unpacking vegetables, dark eyes tracing the curve of your face, hands grasping at packets of food that need to be tossed in the fridge, and cans to be stacked in the shelves.

“Hmm?”

He offers you his face, leaning in close, pausing in his task to receive a small blessing of affection from you — a soft kiss against the scar on his lip that has his eyelashes fluttering closed, and then one more fully against yours – always greedy for any love you bestow, always chasing just one more, just once more, just another, my love, just one more...

He continues with his chore, but only when you giggle at the fluttering of kisses he peppers across your face, your jaw, suckling at your neck, your hands against his chest pushing him gently, urging him to finish his task – but not before you give him another deep kiss, all giddiness and mirth swimming in your gaze. He can’t help the deep chuckle that spills from his lips at seeing you so happy.

“Toji,” you begin, and he’s rummaging in the paper bags, brows furrowed because he could have sworn that he bought three carrots, and not two -- “I’m pregnant!”

He stills.

He can sense your beaming smile, almost feels the warmth of it on his cold skin, and it only makes him shiver.

The seconds tick by without any form of reaction, and the atmosphere grows horribly tense. Toji doesn’t look at you, but he can see from his peripheral vision that your smile slips at the same time that your shoulders round and you make yourself smaller, unconsciously closing off. You’re twisting something in your hands, suddenly nervous, and he has a nauseating feeling that settles in his gut, because he knows exactly what it is that you’re holding.

It’s proof.

“Are you... happy?” you ask, and you hate that you have to. It’s like a punch in the gut, and you’re afraid. This was not the reaction you were expecting at all.

“Are you sure?” he doesn’t know why he asks that.

He isn’t looking at you, and he isn’t moving – he’s not even blinking. You feel your hands becoming sweaty as you clutch the positive pregnancy test, mouth dry. A quickly increasing panic creeps over your skin, gripping you by the throat, and you honestly have no idea how to traverse this kind of response to your news. In the bathroom you only practiced scenarios in relation to a beaming, positive reaction.

Which room should we make into the baby’s room? Our baby can always sleep with us, though, and I know they’re definitely going to prefer you – I'm hopeless with kids... but I hope they look like you, Toji – a perfect combination of everything I love about you!

Do you want to pick names out? I hope it’s a girl... but a boy would be wonderful, too! I know the baby will adore you, no matter what! Do you have any names you like? We can name them after someone you love? If it’s a boy, I want to make his middle name yours...

Why didn’t you think he was going to show apprehension or reluctance? Why were you so idiotic to assume this is something he desired when he’s never given you any signs of wanting to start a family? He’s probably feeling entirely overwhelmed – and no wonder – you have no tact about this. Fuck, you’re stupid. You fucking idiot. Pathetic, dumb, worthless--

“Y-yes,” you reply, and your voice is a shadow of its former self. “I took three tests. I have one here--”

“How.”

You flinch a little under the curtness of his words.

“W-what—?”

“How did this happen?”

“Uhm...” your voice sounds so frail when you speak, and you can't help it. He’s making you feel like you’ve committed a horrendous sin. You’ve managed to combine the epitome of affection between the two of you into the creation of what will become a child – a perfect mix of the two of you, and yet, you’re beginning to hate yourself for doing so. You didn’t mean to... it was an accident... “We don’t... you know... use protection... and we... have sex... a lot...”

“I thought you were taking the pill.”

You feel like you want to throw up.

His entire body is unnaturally still, and he’s not looked at you once since you’ve told him. You are pretty sure that the can in his right hand is warping under the violent pressure of his grasp, and you wring your hands around the test nervously, the weight of it somehow heavy against your palms.

“I... don’t take the pill...” you remind, and then as an afterthought, you add, “I’m sorry.”

Words you never thought you would say in relation to this. You never though you would have to apologize in this kind of situation. You exhale a shaky breath, and it seems to bring him back to reality. He sets the can down on the countertop with more force than needed, and you try your best to blink back tears as you ask, “You’re... not happy... are you...?”

It’s more of a statement than a question, and it hurts to say – god, it hurts. The words sting when they leave your mouth, like a hard slap against your face, but the ache is not nearly as bad as the way his silence is wounding you. You feel like you’re about to collapse from the amount of pain you have in your heart.

“I need to go somewhere,” is the most he offers you, before he’s turning on his heels and striding past you, leaving the apartment you share.

The noise of the front door slamming shut echoes in your mind long after the sound itself has gone.

He never did come back.

  — — — 5 years later — — —

 In the end, you were blessed with a baby girl, all chubby with round, rosy cheeks. Dark hair and eyes like her father, but soft and gentle like her mother. She was an almost perfect child. She never cried, and she never fussed, content in just being close to her mother. She listened when you spoke, and learned fast, growing just as quick, and you would die for her. She was your blessing; Akemi – the beauty of a new dawn.

You’re sure that he would have loved her more than life itself, but you try not to spare any thoughts his way anymore.

Toji gambles his life away, blowing through anything he earns as quickly as he makes it, drowning himself night after night in heavy alcohol to dampen his senses until they are nothing more than a faint hum in the back of his brain.

With any luck, those things will kill him long before the guilt does.

He fucks faceless women, drunk beyond sense, and when he finishes, he leaves before they sleep.

“Hate me, (y/n),” he sneers, turning sharply to vomit up onto the wet asphalt, breath a shaky exhale as he stumbles into the cold night, thoughts only on you – only ever on you – unaware that he’s crying. “Hate me. I fucking deserve it.”

His face is smeared with bile and tears, and he is so fucking angry -- so desperately sad, and he cries, and cries. He wants to go home. He just wants to go home. He wants to meet her – his darling daughter – he wants to hold her, and kiss her forehead, and tuck her into bed. Fuck everything that he thought – he would have been a great father, he knows it – and you knew it, too. He’s so lost without you, and he wants to lay his head on your chest in the safety of your bedroom, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat to guide him home. He wants to feel the brush of your soft lips again; to taste your tongue with his, moan your name into your parted sigh, make you feel him again.

He screams, but it catches in his throat before he can, and he splits his knuckles open when he sends a furious punch against a brick wall.

He can protect you from a lot of things – but not the power of his family. Not that. He’s just one man, and they’re so many. He has a heavenly restriction, and they are all blessed with both innate and inherited techniques, passed down through eons. He knows what they’ll do if they ever found out about you – about the child, and Toji swears on everything he has, that he won’t let them touch you – or her. Even if he won’t be able to. Even if he’ll never be able to hold his daughter, to thank her for being born, to cradle her against his chest and feel her wrap her small fingers against his – he won’t let the Zen’in have her. He won’t.

But that doesn’t mean that he deprives himself from watching over her – or you. Eyes follow the two of you home from her pre-school, singing nursery rhymes to your hearts content, watching as she orders “up, up, mommy!”, squealing happily when you lift her onto your shoulders. He imagines himself in your place; lifting her to higher heights, hearing her giggle a chorus of happy songs as your hand finds his, lips on his scar as you tell him how much you love him.

But he always keeps his distance, dark baseball cap shielding his features, and leaves before you feel someone following you.

It becomes increasingly hard to keep it at that. He starts pushing the boundaries, testing how close he can get. He knows he shouldn’t -- he has no right to – but when she dropped her stuffed toy one time in the supermarket, and you were oblivious to it, he finds himself bending down to grasp the too-soft toy in his calloused hands, dropping it in your basket when your back is turned, and your brows are furrowed as you regard the price difference between her favorite flavor of juice compared to the off-brand ones.

The thrill of being so close, of doing something, anything fatherly, was like a fix – a short relief from the aching despair and loneliness constantly plaguing him, and he finds himself doing it more and more – always pushing, always testing the waters. He even smiled at her once when she caught him staring, and she sent her own toothy grin back at him. His heart soared.

His daughter’s name was Akemi, and he first heard it when it fell from your lips one warm afternoon. He wants to write her name on his heart – right beside yours.

He wants to give her something – a pretty gift, but he doesn’t know what. He was never good at buying presents, and would only ever bring you flowers, since it seemed like something that could never go wrong, and would always bring a bright smile to your face. Flowers would be strange for a child, though. He twists the dainty silver bracelet between his large fingers, thinking bitterly that this was the same way you held the pregnancy test all those years ago. He didn’t really care how much it cost him. He’s sure that the salesman added unnecessary tax and extras to the price just to give himself more commission, but Toji doesn’t care – he just wanted something pretty to give to his daughter.

When he finally sees her enter the park, small hand tugging yours happily, his mind goes empty, and he can’t stop staring. You are as beautiful as ever, and it’s no wonder his daughter is so ethereal when she has you for a mother.

She is perfect, he thinks -- too good for this life -- and even though it’s the worst thing he has ever done, he is reminded that pulling away from you was the only way to save her from his family. It looks like she escaped the curse of inheriting any of his bloodline's techniques, and what’s more so – it seems like she, too, is oblivious to curses; skipping past them as she chases leaves that skit about the dirt path of the park, her teddy in her arms. Toji dips his head down when she draws near the bench he’s sitting on, the brim of his baseball cap keeps his face hidden, and his sadness known only to himself.

“Excuse me?”

He bristles when her voice floats past his ears, so gentle and sweet.

“Hey, mister,” she pokes his knee with her slim finger, so tiny compared to the size of his body, and he jerks at the contact. “Is this yours?”

She’s holding the bracelet in her small hand, the silver glinting in the morning sun, offering it up to him with large eyes, so close to him. At this distance, he can see the true color of her eyes – exactly like his own – and the small freckles that dot her skin. The longer he stares, the more his chest constricts painfully, tightly – he’s finding it hard to breathe, and he exhales suddenly, sharply snatching it away from her.

The force of the movement causes her to stumble a little, tripping over her feet, and before she knows it, the man who was once sitting before her has entirely caught her in his large arms, scooping her up before the ground has a chance to harm her.

She blinks once... twice... swaddled in his arms, sitting against his broad chest, and Toji frantically looks for you, finding you caught up in talking to another mother, too busy to notice. He knows he would scold you for it if he was still in your life, but when his daughter laughs, he snaps his head back to look at her, forgetting what thoughts he had in his mind at the glinting sound of her happiness.

“Whoa!” she exclaims, “You’re fast! Thanks for catching me!”

He doesn’t know what to say – if he should say anything at all. His plan was to give her the bracelet, telling her that it was a late birthday gift from someone that loves her very much, and walking off before she (or you) has the chance to catch on or respond. But now that he’s inches away from her, holding her close as she peers up at him, he’s lost again. He’s lost, and he can’t breathe. He needs you to steady him, but you aren’t here, and he doesn’t know what to do, what should he do, what should he--?

“Where did you get that scar from?” she asks innocently, her large eyes suddenly trained on the mark beside his lips.

“F-from an accident,” he mumbles, “a long time ago.”

“Oh,” she hums, hands splayed against his broad chest, looking around her, swaying her legs absentmindedly. “Wow, you’re really tall! I can see everything from up here!” she exclaims happily, “My mommy’s not as tall as this, so when I sit on her shoulders, I can’t see nearly as much as I can now!”

“Oh,” he mutters, not really knowing what to say, “is that so?”

“Mhm,” she nods, “Mommy’s not as big as you are either.”

At this, he gives a genuine laugh – a sound he hasn’t heard fall from his lips in a long, long time, looking at her with quiet adoration.

“She’s not as fast as you either,” she continues, “you were super-fast!”

“She’s strong in her own ways, though,” he mutters, offering her a soft smile.

“Do you know my mommy?”

He bristles, actively avoiding her gaze. His heart is racing from this much interaction with his daughter, and he’s sure she can feel it under her small palm. It beats for her – if only she knew, and Toji contemplates, for the briefest of seconds, just telling her. The thought leaves his mind as soon as it enters. He doesn’t have that choice, and he doesn’t deserve it.

“Not really,” he mutters, dipping down slowly to set her footing on solid ground once more.

“She’s really pretty,” the little girl continues, playing with the soft fabric of his t-shirt in a small moment of fondness and familiarity, “and nice – and she makes great food!”

Toji realises only after the fact that his hand had settled on top of her head, and he’s stroking her hair softly, thumb caressing her cheek when he moves to cup her face. She doesn’t seem to mind at all, and Toji is overwhelmed with a plethora of emotions. Pride in you for doing all this by yourself and raising such a wonderful child, shame for abandoning you and his daughter, mirth, anger, warmth, sadness, love--

“Akemi!” you call, seeing her lift her head at the sound of your voice. “This way, honey!”

“Oh, I have to go now! My mommy is calling me!” she perks up, gripping her teddy a little tighter and offering the man a smile. “Bye-bye!”

“W-wait!” he calls, thrusting the gift into her small hands. “This is for you, uh... f-from me...”

She looks down at it, before her whole face lights up, and Toji is suddenly breathless – she looks so much like you when she’s surprised, happiness blossoming over her face the same way it would on yours.

Toji feels a deep-rooted emptiness inside his body when he watches his daughter retreat away from him; a living embodiment of all his failures to you, and yet, as he sees her long, black hair whip out behind her, he realizes something else — she was your promise delivered; a combination of everything good between the two of you, in itself a miracle. He might not be in her life, but he was also partly responsible for creating something so beautiful, so ethereal.

He knows he doesn’t deserve it, but if he was ever fortunate enough to be granted a second, it would be a miracle; a holy gift.

A blessing that would accompany the beauty of dawn.

[badgirlcovenrep]

omg chenrich prompts? hell yeah!! Okay so how about immediately after the council meeting? Steph taking Alex to the hospital because u KNOW its steph who takes her to get treated

As is expected I got a little carried away 😁

So this is a bit of a mix between chenrich in the hospital and medical grade painkillers Alex lol

Hope you enjoy!

No one could have prepared them for that community meeting. Steph shook all over just to think of Jed luring Alex into the woods. Of him leaving her for dead in some awful mining hole.

It made her so furious. Even hearing him cry, blabbering like a sad shadow of the man she'd known (the man that was all a charismatic lie, showmanship, to hide the disgusting truth) her anger, her hurt was too fresh for the girl to gather any sort of sadness for him.

"I'm sorry, Ryan," Alex repeats, standing at the bar with them.

Ryan is staring, speechless, at his father's crying shadow.

"I'm so sorry-" she tries to take a step forward, but her feet falter, and Alex nearly topples over to the ground, grunting in pain as Steph jumps to hold her elbow and help steady her into the floor once again.

"Fuck, Alex, you need a doctor." Steph insists. But Alex is looking at Ryan with so much concern that she can't get her to move.

"It's not your fault, okay?" Ryan finally speaks, breaking out of whatever haze he'd been in to look back at her, "It's not your fault. I just- need a moment to process all this. Go with Steph, you're hurt."

Alex finally looks at her then, and Steph can feel herself plead with her eyes - because she might not know a lot about these sorts of injuries but she's smart enough to know - just by the way she's swaying back and forth on unsteady feet - they probably have another minute, at most, before Alex collapses.

"You did it." Steph mumbles, voice filling with unbridled pride as well as urgency, touching down Alex's arm to hold her cold hand, "You did it, ok? You can settle down now."

Her brown eyes are hazy, blinking back to Steph with rapidly heavying eyelids.

"Good. That's- That's good." Alex slurs back, the last reminiscent of adrenaline leaking out of her body in a heavy huff, "very, very good-"

Steph barely has a second to process what is happening before Alex's body gives out. By some miracle, she's able to flip her arms around her shoulders just fast enough to stop her from falling to the ground.

****

Pike helps her take Alex to the local hospital before going back to deal with Jed's arrest.

It's a small hospital and probably has about ten rooms, but given that these sorts of things (bad things) rarely ever happen in Haven Springs, they're quickly given a private room, and Alex is just conscient enough (before she passes out from the painkillers) to tell the staff she could stay.

Steph doesn't think she would have left either way. Not without knowing Alex was alright, but it's good to have permission to sit by her as she fluttered in and out of drug-induced, heavy sleep.

The doctor had given her the run-down of the other girl's injuries. Five broken ribs, stage two trauma to the head - probable concussion to be assessed once she was more awake - a punctured lung, internal bleeding all around the ribcage, and a bullet wound to the shoulder.

She was an absolute mess of scars. A walking, breathing miracle.

Steph had heard the doctor talking to the police when she stepped out to get some snacks at the vending machines. "She should be dead." He said, with such conviction and surprise, it made her stomach turn.

Steph felt that she could do nothing but sit by Alex's sleeping form, slowly realizing that she was absolutely screwed. Because she already liked this girl way too much - and God, what a roller-coaster of emotion she'd been put on the last month - but how could she not? When Alex just waltzed into everyone's lives like this determined, selfless little light? When she was so obviously a rare soul, made of so much sweetness, and softness, and strength, Steph doubted she'd ever come across someone like her again?

Looking at the circumstances from the other side now, it seemed as inevitable as any of it.

"I can feel you thinking." Alex's voice startles her out of her thoughts. Steph looks up to meet her tired brown eyes, looking so soft and vulnerable without her glasses and surrounded by clean hospital sheets, "You've been broody lately."

Steph giggles, choking on her own emotion, "Guess I'm still mad about Jed." It's not a lie. She is upset. But there was a lot more than that, more about how her insides swelled with emotion when Alex looked at her - but she leaves it the way it is.

"I forgave him." She shrugs. And Steph knows she did, she was there after all, but that didn't mean the drummer was quite as ready herself.

"Well, I didn't." And maybe that makes her childish - resentful - but she can't take the image of him pointing a gun at Alex out of her head. The image of him pulling the trigger, sending her off to what could very well have been death - "at least you made him cry like a baby."

"Jerk." Alex smiles, eyes squinting back at her in humorous indignation before they slowly turn more vulnerable as she adjusts herself on the mattress, patting the empty space beside her body, "Can you- come lie down with me?"

There's nothing, truly, that Steph would have liked more. She would take any chance of being closer to Alex (and of getting off the uncomfortable hospital chair) but she was also still afraid - still scared something might go wrong and they'd lose her. "Are you sure? You're hurt."

"Please?" Alex pleads, blinking back at her with honest-to-God puppy eyes, even if still a little glassed-over from the amount of Vicodin they were pumping into her veins. For the umpteenth time in the past few days, Steph has even more confirmation that she is screwed.

Because, honestly, there's nothing Alex couldn't get her to do with just a slow blink of her brown eyes.

So she gets up and climbs into bed with her. It's incredibly tight for two people, and they are instantly pressed together as Alex scoots over the pillow so they can look at each other, alone in this hospital room that smelled like industrial-grade detergent.

Alex reaches forward and takes her cheeks between her palms, so very close Steph can't help but catalog all the cuts and bruises covering her face.

"You're so pretty." The girl says, finally, and Steph can hear the tiny slur in her voice. She's probably still drunk on a shit ton of medicine, but it does nothing to stop the drummer from blushing profusely, "you're, really, really pretty. Have I told you that?"

"Hm- yeah you sorta- do that when you're on painkillers." Steph comments, and her eyes can't help but fall to Alex's mouth.

She has a tiny cut on her lower lip, and Steph's fingers itch to touch it. To feel her skin again, like that night on the roof, when she felt so warm and tingly, like a live wire of electricity that could swallow Steph whole. For now, she holds her distance.

"But it's true." Alex pouts, "and you're really hot when you're protective too."

Now that- that was different from anything she'd said before. And when she looks up, the girl realizes Alex's eyes have turned to stare at Steph's lips too.

"Yeah?" She asks, a little too cocky given the situation, but oh well, you can't blame her for the swell of pride that takes over her chest.

"Yeah." Alex teases back, "Thank you. For taking care of me. For being mad at Jed for me- even if you can't do anything about it." Her tone turns sincere, and her eyes flutter everywhere but Steph's face, Alex's dead giveaway that she was trying to hold something back.

"Oh please, I'll rip his mustache off." Steph jokes, because it's her default strategy when she doesn't quite know what to do, "You have lost your right to upstanding citizen facial hair, sir!"

"Fuck, Steph, don't make me laugh." Alex says as a few stolen giggles escape her lips, creating ripples across her shattered chest that made her hiss with pain.

"Shit, I'm sorry." Steph apologizes, and on instinct, she leans closer to run her hands over Alex's arm in reassurance, holding the weight of her body above Alex with her elbow.

From this angle, they were even closer, and Steph was staring at her from above, watching Alex smile at her, head on the pillow and a half-lidded, humorous expression on her face.

"Oh, this is nothing. Just a few cuts compared to my fighting days." She jokes, and Steph's heart is filled with so much concern, so much love for this girl she can't help but fluster with anger.

"Shut up. You're gonna hurt yourself if you don't take it seriously." Steph says, "you're like, seriously hurt, Alex, you could have died."

Steph wants to ask, but Alex's free hand reaches forward and pulls her closer, fist tightening around the collar of her button-up shirt, and suddenly they are so close her hand shakes with the itch to touch her, "See? Protective Steph is so hot."

"I know. I'm sorry." Alex has the decency to look reprimanded, smoothing one hand over Steph's shoulder in a simple act that sends calming waves over Steph's flushed skin, "I'm okay. I promise" she's being sincere, Steph knows she is by the way she frowns slightly in concern. However, there's a quiet, teasing smile spreading across her face.

And Steph honestly used to think she was smooth.

She made girls blush by the minute. Awoke the bisexuality in at least a few of her drunk makeouts on the way from California to here. She used to be a real flirt, ready for anything a pretty girl could throw her way. But sitting here, with her torso half hovering over Alex Chen's body, her tongue feels heavy, and her brain can't conjure a single thing to offer in response.

It's at least a relief that she doesn't say anything, because a second later, Alex is smiling at her with her coy, knowing little smirk, and pulling her in for a kiss.

Steph is far too focused on not crushing her further, very deliberately placing her hands on both sides of her head to better hold her weight, but she still feels the strong, dizzying zap of electricity as Alex's lips touch hers, her lungs filling with liquid, warm waves of emotion.

And maybe, Steph thinks, it'd be fine if she never breathed air again.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

All Men Have Limits - X

Character: Dick Grayson x Reader x Bruce Wayne

Summary: A certain bat believes that Y/N is in way over her head, that she’s too naive to act in her best interest. So, whether she wants it or not, the vigilante family is going to help and protect her before she gets herself killed.

Word Count: 4,100+

Previously on…

The next three days were one of the darkest periods of Dick Grayson’s life. 

He was thrown back into the past to the moments after his parents were murdered. This felt the same but somehow worse. Because he was convinced he had the power to stop it, to keep Y/N safe.

Why did everyone he love have to die?

Was he cursed?

Was he responsible for their deaths?

He hadn’t even been able to tell Y/N how he really felt. He’d been holding back all this time, terrified that his truth would just push her away and make her decide to close off from him.

Now Dick wished he could go back in time and confess everything to her. If she had pushed him away, he would found his way back to her somehow. He sees that now – now that it’s too late.

He looked at Y/N sleeping peacefully in her bed at the manor.

Is it a miracle if conjuring was used to fight back at fate?

Dick doesn’t even remember what he said when he contacted Zatanna. He must’ve sounded hysterical and utterly desperate. His vision had been blurred from the tears he couldn’t control. 

He already blacked the whole thing out.

Zatanna told them that Y/N would sleep for a few days. Even if her magic saved her life and Y/N wouldn’t even have a scar to prove she had died, her body was still exhausted from the trauma of it all.

But even with Zatanna’s reassurance, Dick hadn’t left Y/N’s side, absolutely terrified that she was still in danger, that she could still leave them forever.

When Y/N started to shift, Dick sat up straighter in the chair that he’d pulled close to her bed.

Y/N winced before her eyes fluttered open.

Dick didn’t want to overwhelm her, so he just waited for her to fully wake up.

Y/N seemed confused when she realized that she was back in her room at the manor.

Then her gaze moved to Dick.

“Bruce, is he–”

“He’s fine,” Dick cut her off before she could get herself into a panic.

Her entire body relaxed and she let out the breath she was holding in without realizing it.

“He has a concussion and he’s a little beat up. But he’s had worse,” Dick elaborated.

She raised a brow. “You tend to say that a lot.”

Dick shrugged.

But it was true: Bruce had been in much worse condition.

“You saved his life, Y/N.”

She seemed uncomfortable hearing that and didn’t meet his gaze.

“I did what anyone would’ve done,” Y/N mumbled.

“Not everyone would be that brave.”

A silence settled between them for a few moments.

“How am I here?” Y/N finally asked Dick quietly.

But they both knew she was really asking, ‘How am I alive?’

“I’m not sure you really want to know all the details…” Dick had been dreading this conversation.

“I’m assuming you called in another favor with your magic friend,” Y/N thought aloud.

“Zatanna,” Dick confirmed. “And, yes. Something like that.”

Y/N gave him a look that told him she wasn’t going to let it go so easily.

“She used a spell that reversed your injuries. She…” Dick had to pause and clear his throat and get rid of his emotions that were threatening to spill. “She used your blood to write a spell, making it far stronger than most she’s cast. It saved your life.”

Y/N watched him for a moment.

“That must’ve been scary,” she whispered, truly understanding what she had put him through.

She simply could not imagine had it been the other way around. The idea of watching Dick die was something she hoped to never live through.

“He hadn’t left your side until Alfred basically secretly drugged him and scared him to get his own bedroom.”

Y/N moved to get out of bed.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Dick panicked as she stood up to stop her.

“I feel…” she thought about it for a moment.

“Like you were stabbed to death?” Dick offered darkly.

“No. I feel…I feel fine.”

He could tell she was telling the truth.

“Perks of magically being healed?” She offered innocently.

“Guess so.”

She moved out of the bed and realized she was wearing cotton shorts and a baggy t-shirt that she most definitely didn’t die in.

What had happened while she was asleep? How long was she dead?

Y/N went to the window and looked out at the grounds of Wayne Manor.

“What happened when the cops showed up?” She asked quietly, almost in a daze.

“You’d have to ask Tim for details. I was preoccupied with…” Dick’s words died out.

Y/N turned away from the window to look at him.

She may have survived, but that was never going to make talking about that night any easier for him.

Luckily, she understood what Dick couldn’t put into words.

Dick took in a deep breath and crossed his arms, “We got them, Y/N.”

It almost seemed to good to be true. They’d been at this for months. It took them weeks just to plan their final blow.

Y/N didn’t realize how hard it would be to believe that it was truly over.

It didn’t help that there was no returning to her old life. Too much had changed.

“With the evidence you gave the FBI, there’s not a lawyer in the world that can save them. Even if a member’s hands aren’t dirty, the public shame will be enough to neutralize them for good,” Dick added with a bit of optimism.

But he could tell by Y/N’s face that she was having trouble accepting the truth.

He took a step toward her. 

“If there’s members of The Court that slipped out from underneath us, if any of them try to come after you, it’ll just prove to the world that The Court of Owls is still operating. And exposing that will be the last thing they’ll want.”

She tried to force a small smile and nod, but it was unconvincing.

Dick closed the space between them and grabbed her hands.

“Y/N, you did it.”

“It’s really over,” she whispered, staring into his deep blue eyes.

He gave her a reassuring smile and nodded.

Then Dick’s focus shifted. He looked her up and down. “Y/N, you should really get some rest. You’ve been through a lot.”

Y/N sighed. “I think I’m gonna take a shower.” She smirked, “Get all that death off me.”

Dick frowned. “Not funny.”

“Jason would think it’s funny,” Y/N teased as she walked to the bathroom.

He playfully glared at her. “I’ll give you some space. But I’ll be down in the cave if you need me.”

Dick only got a few steps before Y/N called his name as if she’d forgotten something and rushed to him.

He looked at her expectantly.

Y/N stepped forward and locked her arms around Dick and buried her face into his shoulder. She closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing.

“Thank you,” she mumbled as his hands rubbed her back soothingly and he pulled her closer.

Dick wanted to tell Y/N that she didn’t have to thank him. He saved her life and he would do it again and again and again, and he would never expect gratitude for it. Because Dick knew that it was just as much for him as it was for her.

So instead he just held her in silence and felt the warmth from her body – the same body that had been ice cold and lifeless just days before.

When they finally pulled away, Dick was studying her face to make sure she was alright to be left alone.

He gave her one last look before leaving her.

Y/N took her time in the shower, making the water as hot as her skin would allow without giving it burns. There wasn’t a single bruise or cut on her. Her fingers traced over the place on her abdomen where the katana had been shoved through. 

There was nothing.

She wondered if there was a price to pay for such magic. Would she be held accountable? Or would it be Dick’s friend who faced the consequences?

Y/N didn’t know how long she’d been showering, but when she finally walked out, the bathroom was filled with too much steam.

She quickly put on sweatpants and a t-shirt when her stomach started growling. She couldn’t even remember when her last meal had been.

Y/N moved to her door after deciding that going straight to the kitchen was quite necessary.

But she stopped as she heard footsteps walking past her room in the hall.

She froze, thinking it was Bruce.

What would she say to him? Would he be angry with her? Would he not react at all to her resurrection? What would hurt her more between the two?

But it wasn’t Bruce. 

Tim and Damian were walking down the hallway.

“How much longer do you think he’ll stay?” She heard Damian ask.

“I don’t know. I heard the Titans have been bugging him to come back,” Tim answered. “I’m sure Kori misses him and has been texting.”

Damian just hummed in acknowledgment.

Y/N realized her hand was suspended over the doorknob.

And she had a realization: she was safe to leave.

But more importantly, she wasn’t the only one that could return to their “normal” life: so could Dick, so could everyone else in the family.

Soon, Tim would go back to his condo in the city. Jason would stop working so closely with the family he tried to disown and he’d probably stop coming around manor so often – if ever. And Bruce…Bruce would move on to new cases and return to the usual patrolling.  

Y/N turned and looked at the bedroom that had become her new home in the past few months. Her personality was nowhere to be found inside. It wasn't actually hers. She was just one of its many visitors. 

Y/N grabbed her duffle bag from underneath the queen-sized bed and started throwing her belongings into it.

Ten minutes later, Y/N had her jacket and shows on, and all of her belongings were packed in her bag. 

She still had to deal with all her equipment that was sitting in the cave. But that was a problem for another day. Right now, she didn’t have the bandwidth to deal with it. She needed to leave – before she changed her mind.

-

Y/N was just yards from the front door when she heard his voice.

“Y/N?” Dick asked just loud enough to catch her.

She froze in place.

While her back was still to him, she closed her eyes in grievance from the failure of being spotted.

She slowly turned around.

“You trying to sneak out of here?” Dick asked.

It was meant to sound teasing, but she heard his disappointment loud and clear.

“It’s about time I get out of your hair.” 

“We’re not exactly kicking you out…” Dick tried to joke.

“You said so yourself: it’s safe for me now.” She sighed and walked closer to him. “Look, I just…I need some time alone.”

Dick took it a bit too personally. Were they really that exhausting to be around? He thought she had started to see them as her own family. He thought things were OK.

“At least let me drive you,” he offered quietly.

“I called a cab. It’s waiting for me outside.”

Before Dick could say anything else, she quickly turned and made her escape.

Y/N knew what she was scared of. She was scared he’d tell her he was leaving Gotham now that the case had been solved. But she was even more scared that he’d tell her he was staying. 

She wasn’t ready to deal with either scenario.

So, Y/N did what she did best: she ran.

————————

Y/N stared at the wall of her safe house.

The silence that she had once grown used to long ago was now irritating.

Y/N hadn’t realized how accustomed she had become to the chaos of Wayne Manor until she had torn herself away from it. Even when it was quiet there, she could feel the presence of everyone.

Now she was left only to her thoughts.

And just she was about to escape the silence and go grab food at a nearby diner, there was a knock on the door.

Y/N knew for a fact that this safe-house hadn’t be blown yet – and that included with the Wayne family. It was exactly why she chose to come here instead of the one where Bruce first found her and dragged her to Wayne Manor for her own safety.

Which was why Y/N grabbed one of her guns and checked to make sure it was loaded and the safety was off before she tiptoed to the door.

She looked through the peep hole and her stomach twisted when she saw Bruce Wayne was on the other side.

She knew he could sense her presence on the other side, and there was no hiding. So she opened the door quickly.

Bruce eyed the gun in her hand. “This has become a habit of yours.”

Y/N ignored his comment, uncocked the gun, and carefully placed it on a table near the door.

When she was finally able to take Bruce in, she noted that his face was covered in bruises and small cuts. To be honest, Y/N expected more damage after being a witness to his near-death beating. 

“May I come in?” Bruce asked softly.

She blinked rapidly, realizing she had yet to invite him inside.

This was all reminiscent of that night.

And Y/N didn’t appreciate the memories and feelings Bruce was stirring up.

An awkward silence settled between them. The silence of her apartment was doing nothing to help.

“Are you okay?”

Y/N knew the question was sincere, but Bruce still managed to ask it without showing any ounce of emotion – as if he wasn’t personally invested in the matter. 

“I’m fine,” she answered quickly. Her eyes softened. “Are you okay?”

He simply nodded.

Silence again.

“You can never do that again,” Bruce declared.

“Do what?”

“You risked your life to save mine. The boys refused to tell me what happened, but I saw the footage. You threw yourself in front of me.”

Y/N remained calm as she said, “You did the same for me.”

Bruce shook his head. Because they both knew it wasn’t the same thing.

The truth was that Bruce woke up to find Dick crying over Y/N’s dead body. And then a few minutes he had watched as Dick begged Zatanna to help him.

And Bruce? Bruce had been unconscious when Y/N had needed him the most.

He had protected her all these months – with his own family and his own home – just to be useless in her final moment of need.

When Bruce finally woke up recovered to find out that Y/N had fled the manor, he knew he needed to go to her. He needed to make sure she never did something so stupid as risking her life to save him.

But now Bruce stood before her and he knew he needed to tell her so much more than just that.

“What are you doing here, Bruce? Did you just plan on lecturing me again?”

But Bruce wasn’t realized he couldn’t use any words tonight.

Ever so slowly, he stepped into her space, putting less and less space between their bodies. Y/N could feel the heat coming from him. And she sucked in a gasp from his proximity. She breathed in his cologne that she’d grown to love so much that it instantly relaxed her.

Her heart beat faster and faster as his eyes shifted down to her lips, hesitating in a way that was excruciating to Y/N. But it gave her time to resist, to allow her to shut this down before it could continue.

But Y/N didn’t want to do that.

Bruce brushed her hair away from her face, then his hands shifted slightly to cup her face. His touch wasn’t soft, but insistent.

He pressed his lips to Y/Ns. Brisk and determined. 

The tension finally snapped and pushed them to a passionate kiss that was long overdo.

Was this only going to cause them both more pain in the future?

Or was this what they should’ve done long ago?

Bruce pushed Y/N against a wall.

And then everything became a blur.

Bruce picked Y/N up and wrapped her legs around his waist for her, silently instructing her. 

Clothes were unzipped and unbuttoned, and thrown around the apartment without thought.

Their breathing was heavy and reactive to the way their hands raced across each other’s now naked skin. 

For never being at this particular safe house, Bruce found his way to the bed with ease.

From the movement of their bodies and obvious desire for one another, one thing became clear: they were never meant to only share one night together.

————

Y/N had tried with all her might to stay awake – even if that meant pulling an all-nighter.

She was trying to break the pattern. And even though Bruce had exhausted her body to no end, she didn’t want to wake up to find his side of the bed empty.

But she was shocked to open her eyes and find not only that Bruce was still in her bed, but that she had been sleeping on his bare chest with his arms wrapped tightly around her.

Y/N could feel that he was awake. Apparently he was much more disciplined than her.

Little did she know Bruce hadn’t slept at all, not wanting to miss the feeling of her against him. 

Y/N slowly lifted her head, “Hi.”

He smirked at the sleepiness in her voice.

“Hi."

“Didn’t expect you to be here still,” she admitted quietly.

“I can leave if you want.” And he meant it, even though it would hurt.

“No,” she scolded him in a breathy gasp.

The tension in his body released. 

Y/N shifted off of his chest

“And where do you think you’re going?” Bruce questioned.

She shifted so she was no longer resting on his chest, but laying on her side beside him so she could see his face.

“I just wanted to look at you,” she whispered innocently.

Bruce smirked at her answer.

Y/N made sure the bed sheet was successfully covering her nudity.

Bruce seemed amused with her sudden modesty, but said nothing of it.

“How did you find me here?” Y/N asked him.

It had been the first thing she’d wanted to ask when he showed up to her door last night. But Bruce hadn’t exactly given her a lot of space to speak last night.

Bruce’s jaw tightened, which was a message in its own. 

“Bruceeeee,” Y/N pushed back with irritation.

“You aren’t going to like the answer.”

She glared at him. “Did you put a fucking tracker on me, Bruce Wayne?”

“Your phone.”

“When?” She asked.

“After you tried to turn yourself in to the Talons.”

Y/N sighed, clearly annoyed by the answer.

They both knew she could easily disable it now that she knew about it. Even if he hadn’t confessed it, she would’ve figured it out on her own eventually.

“You’re upset,” Bruce observed.  

“How would you feel if I did the same to you? But it’s…you. And I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Need I remind you that we only met because you blackmailed me and threatened to expose my identity to the world?”

“You know that wasn’t the same,” she shot back as she rolled her eyes. 

“You’re right.” Bruce sighed. “I promise I will deactivate it.”

“No,” Y/N surprised him by saying. “But I will make you a deal…you can always know where I am if I can know the same for you.”

Bruce knew this was a test. Because Y/N expected him to immediately shoot down such an offer. Couldn’t such information be used against Batman?

“Deal,” he agreed.

Y/N was so shocked by his compliance that her overwhelming emotions forced her to lean into him and capture his lips in a kiss.

“Should I make us breakfast?” She whispered to him after barely pulling away from his lips. 

She lightly bumped her nose against his. 

Bruce nodded with a grin.

But before Y/N could ask what he wanted, a knock at the door interrupted them.

Her heart raced at the thought of another intrusion – and a less welcomed one.  

Bruce frowned, but remained calm.

“Stay here,” he warned before placing a light kiss on her bare shoulder.

Before she could argue, he slipped out of bed.

He put his boxer briefs on, but didn’t bother with a shirt or pants.

Even though Bruce told Y/N to stay put, she still figured a mysterious knock on the door was a sign to put clothes on.

She practically threw on her underwear, but couldn’t find a single piece of clothing she had on yesterday. Yet somehow she found Bruce’s white button down and quickly buttoned on to give herself some semblance of decency.

Bruce looked through the peephole. 

He held his breath.

Bruce would’ve rather it been an attempted attack on Y/N than…this.

“Y/N, I know you’re there,” Dick called from the other side of the door.

Bruce knew she couldn’t hear him. But he knew there was no other choice than to open the door.

Bruce looked apathetic as he faced his first protégé.

But Dick knew Bruce well enough to see that there was guilt hidden underneath.

He took in Bruce’s attire – or really, the lack there of.

Dick huffed out a laugh, “Of course. I should’ve known better.”

He shook his head and turned to leave.

Bruce slammed the door shut and rubbed his face in distress.

Before he could even think of something to say to Y/N, she rushed past him and threw the door open again.

“Dick! Wait!” Y/N called to him and caught him in the hallway.

By some miracle, Dick stopped and turned to her.

He looked her up and down, lingering far too long on the white button down she was wearing that so clearly belonged to Bruce.

“Needed some time alone, huh?” 

Throwing Y/N’s own words back at her was meant to come out harsh and cold. But it ended up sounding heartbroken and betrayed.

And, honestly, that was worse to Y/N.

She have any idea what to say to him.

What would even make him feel better?

So, Y/N just watched Dick slowly walk away.

She stepped back into the safe house with tears in her eyes.

Bruce immediately moved to her. 

“Y/N–”

But Y/N shook her head, stopping him from saying anything more.

“I should go,” Bruce told her. 

He couldn’t help himself as he reached to wipe her tears away.

“I should probably give you your shirt back,” she said between sniffles.

Had the situation been different, it would’ve sounded funny. 

But there was no humor here. 

Bruce’s innocent touch of wiping her tears away made it hard for Y/N to concentrate.

So she escaped into the bedroom and quickly changed into her own clothes.

When she walked back out, she had all of Bruce’s stuff in her arms.

Once Bruce was in his clothes again, he didn’t know what to do or say next.

It was hard for Bruce to leave Y/N when she was so visibly upset. Dick wasn’t here to make Y/N feel better this time...and that was all Bruce’s fault.

“I’m not used to saying bye to you,” Y/N finally broke the tension.

Bruce’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

A sad look flashed across her face as she processed her thoughts. “Usually I wake up…and you’re gone. You don’t even give me a chance to.”

Bruce bowed his head in shame. “I shouldn’t have done that to you,” he finally admitted to her.

Y/N nodded slowly, agreeing with him.

“But you did,” she whispered. 

Her voice sounded congested from all the tears she just shed. 

“And all this time, I let myself think it was OK or even that I was the one who had messed it all up.”

Bruce quickly shook his head. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Y/N.”

Her eyes darkened. “Why did you have to make it so hard to stay away from you, Bruce?”

An he knew he deserved that. “I’ve been selfish,” he confessed.

Bruce hesitated before giving her a slow kiss on the cheek.

It was the first time Y/N had ever seen him unsure of himself.

Without saying anything more, he turned and left.

“Goodbye, Bruce.” Y/N whispered long after he could still hear her.

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

Part XI

Did I ruin your life? Let me know 😂

[skiyoosmi]

if fate permits

⤷ chapter twenty six: spotlight

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It was no surprise to people who always saw Atsumu that his eyes were constantly filled with a glitter that just managed to shine regardless of whether it was day or night. Volleyball, volleyball, and volleyball - perhaps, if you take time to ask these people what they think is the reason for that glitter, that would be their only answer. To those who truly knew him though, their answer might just be a tad bit different. Sakusa YN - from the moment he met you up to the present, a certain gleam seems to appear whenever you are the center of the topic. At least, that’s what Osamu has observed.

Kiyoomi concluded it’s just him unconsciously being a hopeless romantic for you. The grey haired lad remembers him saying it was pathetic, as always. But then again, he couldn’t deny the truth behind your brother’s words.

That said, he also knows that no one would have expected the same set of bright eyes to dull its sparkle. Unfortunately for the two of them (or three if you count Kiyoomi based on how often he visits the two of them now), you managed to take it away from him. There in the couch where you once sat during movie nights laid Atsumu, staring at the endless nothing, tears occasionally welling up his eyes as he remembers you, the way you looked at him as strangers do - empty, loveless, cautious.

It was karma. No matter how many times he tries to repeat it himself, it just doesn’t ease the thorns that prick his heart every millisecond that passes and every time, he just feels so sorry because he knows you felt the same pain before. How have you managed to get through it for more than twenty years? He has no idea because he sure as hell won’t be able to last one more day with it. Still, he can’t do anything but sit, mull over his self-sabotaged fate.

As he drowns himself deeper into his misery, a series of vigorous knocks disturb the twins’ “peace.” Osamu furrows his eyebrows together, a sense of oddness and urgency coming to him because Kiyoomi doesn’t knock that way - even when it comes to announcing his presence, your brother tries to be as prim and respectful as possible, knocking only thrice before waiting for the door to be opened, another three when he thinks no one heard him from the inside. Hence why the continuous knocks annoyed the grey haired.

Still, he begrudgingly sauntered towards the door and opened it, mouth ready to scold the person in front of him but he got beaten to it, “Where’s Atsumu?”

In her usual get up, Yui stood, a very much obvious fake smile plastered on her face and Osamu wanted nothing but to grab her hair and drag her to the deepest parts of hell for making you suffer (no one gets to do that except for him, he’s the only one who has the ‘drinking buddy and best friend’ privilege’).

Mentally, he took a deep breath before mustering the most sincere smile he can give her (it’s strained and forced, he knows it deep down), “Hello, Yui-san. I don’t think today’s the best day to-”

Before he could finish his sentence, Yui shoved past him and walked inside the house, acting as if she owned it. Osamu watched her trudge her way towards the living room in disbelief, fists clenching so hard it was painful already. Oh dear lord, please… just for today, let me strangle this woman… I’m willing to spend the rest of my life in jail if it means I get to do that for YN.

“Atsumu-kun!” She squeals upon seeing the blonde, ungracefully throwing her whole body to him, much to his shock (and annoyance).

“Y-Yui? What the fuck?” He shoves her away from him and backs up, creating a space which makes Osamu cheer quietly and form a devilish smile. Obviously not expecting the unappreciated response to her actions, she huffs, “You didn’t have to push me that hard, jerk Atsumu! That hurt me!”

“Yui-san…” Atsumu sighed exasperatedly, “I’m not in the mood, okay? Just… just leave, please?”

Yui’s smile disappears from her face and soon, an angry expression replaces it, “You’re such an ungrateful asshole, Miya. I’m busy and here I am, making time for you and you’re telling me to leave? Me?! THE Yui you wanted so much before? How dare y-”

“I didn’t ask you to come here, didn’t I? Just fucking read the room, Yui. I don’t like you here, not right now, not ever. I’m sorry but whatever I thought before, I was wrong. So just fucking leave,” he spat, patience running dry because all he wanted was sulk his life away in the couch.

As if finally being enlightened by the current situation, Yui begins to laugh, “Oh. my. god. Did she finally tell you? Wait… did she actually cut your thread? That’s why you look so miserable right now?”

Atsumu stands up from the couch, disbelief all over his face, “You knew?!”

The girl continues to holler her ugly laugh, “Ah, so hilarious! Of fucking course, Atsumu! One look at her pathetic face and I knew. Hell, I didn’t even need a Moira to figure it out. It was so fun, acting all sweet with the clueless you… and there she is, on the verge of tears every time!”

She wipes the fake tears away from her eyes, “But I guess she got tired too. I mean… you’re just so dumb, Atsumu. So hopeless and so easy to play with,” her fingers trace his jawline, rolling her eyes and snickering when he slapped it away from him.

“Now that I think about it again, you two shouldn’t have played Cinderella. You fit more into the criteria of Sleeping Beauty… you’re like Aurora, was it? But like, without the cure of a kiss because you ruined your true love! That’s my curse for you!”

The blonde grits his teeth, tears uncontrollably falling down his cheeks despite his desperation to stop them. Yui sees it and lets out a fake coo, “Aww, look at you, crying. You must be feeling so guilty, huh? It’s okay, I’m here… I can be the princess you’ve always wanted. You just have to behave like the foolish little prince you are.”

Osamu curses, taking a step forward to drag the girl out of their home but a voice stops him from doing so, “Is it fun? Playing with people’s fates like toys?”

Yui and Atsumu whip their head towards the source of the voice and Osamu is filled with relief upon seeing your brother standing, an unamused look on his face. Clearly liking the attention she was getting, Yui replies, “Ooh, what are you all? Avengers for YN? Protection squad or something? But to answer your question, yes! I’m enjoying it very much… but that doesn’t concern you, does it, Sakusa-kun?”

Kiyoomi paused for a second, removing his shoes and leaving them by the door, walking nearer the two, not too close but just enough to show her his height and intimidate her somehow, “You’re right, it doesn’t. If anything, I’m glad it’s all over now so my sister doesn’t have to suffer in between your acts of foolishness. But for some reason,” he trails off, looking down at her and throwing a look of disgust, “I pity you - because your fate is just as fucked up as theirs - your soulmate doesn’t remember you too and looking at you right now, something is telling me that you regret it too… because you have no one left. No Iwaizumi, no Atsumu.”

Judging by the way she glared at him, Kiyoomi feels a sense of accomplishment for hitting right on the nail.

“You-!”

“How unfortunate, Yui-san… the spotlight is not on you anymore.”

Silence filled the house right after Yui rapidly walked out of the house, a string of curses for your brother flowing out of her mouth. But Kiyoomi couldn’t care any less; instead, he turns to Atsumu who was already looking at him in awe before snapping off his thoughts and mumbling, “Omi… uhm… thank you.”

“I didn’t do it for you,” is the only thing he replies, “I won’t do anything for you...”

Atsumu swallows harshly, the bitter truth making it hard for him to do so, “Right.”

“... at least not anymore after this one,” he finishes, handing the blonde some neatly folded documents. Osamu smiles from where he stood, side-leaning against the doorway leading to the kitchen, as if he already had an idea what the papers were for. His twin’s eyes scan them and as if by a miracle, a familiar glitter appears in them, accompanied by a hopeful expression as he lifts his head and looks at your brother.

“Omi, this…”

“Be ready in three months. I hope you’re not scared of riding planes.”

note. i'm so sorry for the very very long gap between these updates T_T i swear i'll try to update more frequently now, at least school's being less of an ass these days (don't say sike pls)

[bokoutoe-retired]

— #43 “i love you to the moon and back” & #44 “you’re stealing the blankets”

characters; gojo satoru, gn! reader, ft. itadori yuuji, fushiguro megumi, nobara kugisaki

synopsis; working at jujutsu tech comes with it’s risks, but with your husband at your side you think everything will turn out just fine

total w/c; 1475

warnings; canon-typical violence, blood, major injury, hospitals, iv’s, uhhh, non-canon timeline ig? i haven’t read the manga so i apologize for any inaccuracies about how curses and jujutsu sorcery works

「a/n」 thank you to @construct-witchlyght for requesting!! i’m so sorry it took so long but i actually really had fun writing this and i feel good about it! hope you enjoy it <3

being a counselor at jujutsu tech never really meant just being a counselor. sometimes it means being a teacher and instructing a couple classes, other times it means getting called out for exorcisms. despite your job title, it’s shockingly rare you get the chance to actually, you know, be a counselor.

and this was certainly not one of those times. the grade 2 curse you, itadori, fushiguro, and kugisaki are currently dealing with is not relenting. whatsoever. it’s attacks are quick, fast, and calculated. the four of you have done a good job avoiding them so far, but you're not sure how much longer you can keep it up. both you and itadori are hustling to land your blows, slowly chipping away at the almost overwhelming defenses of the curse. nearby fushiguro’s shikigami are working in rhythm with the flying nails of kugisaki’s hammer to take out the weird army of cursed goonies the grade 2 has. they’re not powerful by any means but their numbers add up. the two first years are doing a good job of dwindling their forces

the fight drags on and on, hit after hit, and dodge after dodge, it’s tiresome but necessary. by some miracle, there’s a glimpse of the end as yuuji lands a hearty punch on one of the chins of the curses many mouths. as it makes contact it’s accompanied by a loud, resounding clap, the cursed energy packed behind the hit leaves the air of the abandoned warehouse buzzing. the powerful attack brings the curse down to its last legs, yet it’s still angry, and determined to take you all out. you glance over to check on the other pair, and see they’re exorcising the final lackey. 

‘good, they’re safe now’ you think, but you’re allowed only a mere moment of relief before your attention is directed back to itadori and the grade 2. itadori is still stumbling from the blowback of his own power as the curse lets out a booming roar and you see it gear up for an attack with the sharp claws on one of its four arms. he’s stumbling right into the claws’ path and doesn’t have nearly enough time to completely dodge. panic boils over  in your chest and you feel your body move before you think about it, out of pure instinct to protect your kids. the long arm of the curse swings down and you rush towards the pink haired first year, shoving him out from underneath the approaching claws. hot, searing pain rips down from your shoulder and through your chest. your vision immediately turns spotty but you can see itadori tumble a few feet away from the force of your push. you must’ve screamed without realizing it because immediately all three students are calling out your name and rushing to finish the curse off.

you register that somewhere near you the curse bursts into smoke and spare puffs of cursed energy. it’s finally exorcised, but you're too focused on the feeling of warm, sticky blood seeping from your wound and the bitter taste of copper in your mouth to take note of who officially finished it off. the energy from the curse tapers off into nothing but residuals and suddenly three sets of footsteps are rushing towards you.

“y/n-san!” itadori is the first to reach you, calling out and falling to his knees at your side. “why would you do that?!” his words are frantic but his actions are gentle as he moves your head to rest on his knees. you can almost see the tears welling in his eyes from, in your opinion, misplaced guilt. he looks around searching for help of the other first years. behind him nobaras foot taps incessantly against the cold stone floor. she’s hurriedly dialing someone on her cellphone, presumably ijichi and fushiguro is tearing off his jacket. he does much better job of hiding his worry, but if your eyes were a little more focused you’d be able to see the slight shake to his movements as he bundles the fabric and presses it to your wound. you little out a little grunt of pain, the coarse texture agitates it but does a good enough staunching the steady trickle of blood. despite their lack of experience, it’s not hard for them to recognize this is bad. nobara finishes her call, before pocketing her phone and joining the boys on the ground next to you. she takes the edge of her sleeve, wiping off the small bit of blood dribbling from you mouth. you weakly attempt to swat her hand off, the last thing you wanted was to worry your kids or have them fuss over you.

“‘toru would kick my ass if i had let one of you kids get hurt” your words are slightly slurred but you speak with a little chuckle, referring to your husband while trying to make light of the situation. you even reach up to pat yuujis cheek reassuringly a couple times.

“well now gojo-sensei is gonna kick my ass for letting you get hurt!” he looks like he’s about to continue but the sound of screeching car tires interrupt him.

“ijichis here, lets get her up. y/n-” you can hear megumi talking, but your consciousness is slipping and you can’t decipher exactly what he said. you feel three pairs of hands start to lift you off the ground, the blood making it a little more difficult. as you look up the dots clouding your vision get bigger and bigger, the last thing you see is the crease of nobaras brows as she yells out to someone.

when you wake up, you feel your situation before you see it. the first, and maybe most important thing you feel, is the presence of your husband cuddled into your side. you feel his hair tickling your neck, his body pressed against your uninjured side and his fingers intertwined with yours. just knowing he’s there is enough to instantly put you at ease. your eyes finish adjusting to the bright morning light streaming in from the window and satoru shifts in his sleep, unawarely tugging the thin hospital blanket from your body. 

“you’re stealing the blankets,” you whisper to him as you squeeze his hand in yours, but your voice comes out a little more strained than you had expected. even with his blindfold on, you can tell he’s woken up as he lets out a little hum and adjusts himself on the small hospital bed. with the both of you it’s a tight fit, but you make it work. he’s careful not to jostle you as he sits up and gently brings you to lay on his side instead of him on yours. he’s mindful of your ivs and monitors, all while keeping your hand in his and making sure to drape the blanket back over you.

“rough night?” he asks, the hand of the arm wrapped around you comes to lightly brush over the bandages wrapped snug around your torso. the pain isn’t nearly as bad as it was before you blacked out. whatever meds they’d given you had turned the sharp stinging into a dull ache. but if you were being honest your whole body ached. a long, strenuous battle on top of a deep wound would do that to a person.

“rough night.” you confirm with a little chuckle, relaxing even further into his hold. the room is silent for a moment as he catches your eyes searching the empty room for something that’s not there. he presses a kiss to your temple, bringing your attention back to him.

“they went back to the school,” he states, already knowing that you were looking for the trio of first years, “and before you ask, they’re fine. all three made it out with nothing more than a couple scratches.”

“good, thats good,” you respond while smiling up at him. if those three were okay, any pain, wound, or hospital visit would be utterly worth it.

“i’m lucky i get to say the same for you, my love. itadori told me what you did” he lifts up his blindfold and gives you a look that resembles that of one he would give a student while scolding them. but behind it, you can see the deep amount of worry held in his bright eyes.

“i did what i had to, they're just kids” you shrug as best as yougiven your condition.

“i know, i know. very admirable of you,” he jokes a little before his tone turns serious “but please, don’t scare me like that ever again. you mean the world to me and i don’t know what i’d do without you. i love you to the moon and back, my dear y/n”

“i love you too satoru, to the moon and back”

[seijoh-apologist]

stupidly in like with you | miya atsumu

pairing: post-timeskip!miya atsumu x f!reader word count: 14.6k (OOPS LMFAO) genre: friends to lovers, fluff, hurt(?)/comfort, and like a few too many pages of fluffy smut -- third person pov for the most part. NSFW. synopsis: Atsumu and Y/N are good friends, maybe feelings are involved but Y/N isn’t his type. OR Y/N and Atsumu are most definitely in like with each other but for whatever reason aren’t dating.

A/N: hi so this is my first “published” hq fic but like here is this thought that I had and haven’t been able to get it out of my head. it’s mostly edited thanks to my irl friend but bare with my run on sentences and (slightly excessive) use of profanity. any feedback would be appreciated b/c I have more thoughts for other characters and I'd love to share haha. 

To say Y/N was annoyed was an understatement.

Aching feet begged for relief, the sweat-soaked shirt, though cute, had begun to cling to that one fold in her side that made her the slightest bit hyper aware of the “stress weight” she swears she's put on during the holiday season. And the music was absolute shit, shuffling between mash-ups of the Top 100 trending songs and some weird EDM-Indie music that she would pay good money to never hear again.

To put it plainly, she was not in the mood to be out of her home, much less celebrate. But she had agreed to come out, never being able to say no to Sakusa, who silently pleaded with his eyes to take on “babysitting” responsibilities of his teammates for tonight. He had paid for her dinner several times before tonight, claiming that she should save her money - “you should spend your money on getting a better mattress, so we don’t have to hear you complain about it anymore.” - the least she could do was give him a night to himself, away from the chaos that was the rest of the MSBY team.

Besides, it's not like she was asked to stalk them or anything - they were friends after all, so really it was just like she was tagging along for a night of club hopping, taking shots that she didn’t have to pay for, and simply people watching in between trips to the dancefloor. And normally, she’d be enjoying the night - it's just that of all nights to come out and celebrate, it had to be at the end of one of the most stress-inducing, aggravating weeks of her young adult life.

Checking that it was well after one in the morning, she sipped water from her straw, swivelling to face the crowd from her (stolen) seat at the bar, in hopes of catching the attention of someone in her party that could get the hint that they should probably get ready to go. What she did not expect to find, however, was Atsumu, flitting his eyes away from her figure as he leaned down to talk to a pair of girls. It could just be a friendly gesture, asking him if he was who they think he was and him responding but it sent a less than pleasant feeling in her stomach, so she swiveled back, reaching for her phone in the back pocket of her suddenly too tight pants.

“Fuck me,” she huffs out upon seeing that her phone battery has fallen to thirty percent, which would be just delightful when it would be time to call the ubers home. She could now rule out aimlessly scrolling through Twitter for the rest of the night while waiting for her friends.

“Uh.. maybe slip in a ‘please’ and I’m yours.”

Y/N’s eyes all but bugged out her head at the response that came from her left. The voice belongs to a guy, a very cute guy. The kind of cute guy that you see on Instagram explore page before it refreshes so the chances of seeing him again are nonexistent.She sputters out a delayed apology, double-time since she realized that she’s now taken a little too long to respond to him, to which he laughs and shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about it. I should be apologizing for interrupting you, it's just.... You looked a little lonely over here. Mind if I sit with you?”

“Seat’s all yours... but you’re on your own if those people from before come back to reclaim them.” She hums, sliding her phone back into her pocket and shifting her legs slightly in the direction of his seat.

“Scared of a little fight?” He hums, arching a brow before taking a swig of his beer. He has nice hands. Y/N muses to herself as she watches the stranger’s fingers flex slightly around the neck of his beer bottle. She’s always of the mind that a person’s hands say a lot about them.

“Mmm no… just too tired to defend myself, much less a random stranger.” He laughs at that, nodding his head before replying that “most pretty girls don’t openly say they can fight.”

“Oh you’re cheesy, aren’t you? Nobody straight up tells a girl they’re pretty for no real reason.”

“Actually,” Shifting his beer bottle onto the bar, he holds out his hand to her. “My name is not cheesy, it’s -”

“Y/N! There you are!”

The call of her name makes her jump slightly, before she feels the familiar warmth of a hand on her back. The same hand worms its way to her hip, fingers slipping into that soft fold just above her pants, the warmth of his next words being felt just above her ear.  “Where the hell’ve ya been? Was lookin’ all over the place for ya, Bo and Shoyo were worried ya left without us!”

“Been right here, idiot. We lost our original seats so I’d figure you’d come to the bar at some point and I could’ve waved you down.” She shifts slightly, turning her shoulder back towards the cute stranger with an apologetic look in her eye, to which he smiles and opens his mouth to respond until Atsumu cuts him off again, his hand gripping the back of her neck to make her give him her total attention.

“Right well I’m starving - let's get outta here. Kinda craving your infamous drunk noodles, or maybe a McDonald’s on the way home, yeah?”

Y/N nods slightly, turning back towards the stranger to see that he’s already slinking back into the crowd. Once she fully loses him, she shoves her elbow into the blonde’s side, telling him to “shut it” when he throws out a huff of pain.

“Thank you, ‘Tsumu… could’ve had a different ride home but nooooo.. Needed to come in here with all your glory talking about you being starving despite the fact that you can afford a personal chef.” She huffs out and slides off her stool, but he’s not listening. Instead he’s holding her by the shoulders and pushing her through the crowd, excusing the two of them as she continues to rant and rave at him. Once outside, the pair are joined with the rest of the party, who have called a few separate ubers home. “And to top it off, I know you’re not even listening right now - you never listen to me, Miya. I don’t know how your teammates put up with you… how do you put up with this shit, hmm?”

The group of teammates laugh softly and shake their heads, giving answers that “they get paid” to put up with him, and that Miya Atsumu is actually “a decent friend,” a fact that she knows is true but chooses to ignore when convenient for her. Atsumu just shakes his head with a roll of his eyes, pulling her into the direction of their uber for their journey back to his place. She greets the driver and settles into her seat, as Atsumu calls out behind him something or other to someone. The slam of the door and clicking of seatbelts is what fills the silence in the car, music softly playing from the rear speakers, as Atsumu leans his head back against the headrest.

“So I take it yer coming to stay with me for tonight?”

“Hmm.. don’t have much of a choice now, do I?” She teases to which Atsumu slightly pouts, reaching to knuckle at his eyes that suddenly feel a little too heavy. “You owe me the biggest breakfast fathomable tomorrow.”

“Why’s it that I owe you when I paid for your dinner before going out, paid for your drinks tonight, and am letting you sleep in my bed - which is infinitely better than your cheap ass - hey!” He begins his ranting, which would be cut off by a sturdy flick to the forehead and a slight “hush” before he feels her head rest up on his shoulder.

Y/N and Atsumu had been friends for a little while, when she chased him down the middle of the road, claiming to the public that he was a thief, just because he’d grabbed the wrong umbrella on the way out of the restaurant they were both eating in. He’d tried to apologize, but she traded umbrellas and walked back towards the direction of the restaurant. He had chalked it up to nothing really, just a slight mistake and minor inconvenience for the girl. At least until a certain teammate’s birthday dinner, where said stranger was- only this time sitting and chatting with Sakusa Kiyoomi as if they’d been best friends for forever (which in all fairness, Y/N and Kiyoomi had only been friends since college, where they were forced into a friendship by their roommates, who were hooking up with each other and forced the two on double dates). This second meeting was a sign to Atsumu, a sign that for whatever reason this girl was supposed to be in his life, in some capacity or another - but he did royally fuck it up a second time by trying to flirt with Y/N, who laughed and asked if his opening line was really the best he’d had, before hitting him with an opening line that still makes him flush when he thinks about it today.

The ride to Atsumu’s home isn’t long, but it's long enough for the tiredness to seep into Y/N’s bones, who barely misses the quiet way that Atsumu’s fingers have taken home at the base of her neck, massaging gently at the tenseness he feels under the pads of his fingers.

“Someone’s tired… why didn’t you stay home?” He asks as they turn onto his street, letting his fingers fall away from her as he begins to check that they have everything they need. ”’t’s a good thing yer sleeping over at mine... and no couch for you. Your neck is all kinds of tense. It's a miracle you haven’t complained ‘bout it once tonight.”

“Shh.. you’re so loud for what?” She mumbles while trying to stifle a yawn. “So if I’m not supposed to sleep on the couch then where am I supposed to sleep then, boy genius? The floor?”

“No,” Atsumu answers seriously, brow slightly wrinkled as he reaches for his keys in his pocket. “You’ll sleep with me. In my bed. ‘t’s a cooling mattress so you won’t haffta complain that yer too hot.”

“Miya, last time I slept in a bed with you, you nearly suffocated me. Dunno if I really wanna have to deal with trying to roll you onto your back again.”

“Wait a minute! To be fair, my bed was smaller then so there was less room for the both of us.” He begins, opening the door and shutting it before turning the two of them towards the entrance to his apartment building. “Second of all, it was my first time sharing a bed with someone other than ‘Samu so ya shouldn’t blame me for not having proper sleep manners.”

The first steps into Atsumu’s home consists of the pair kicking off their shoes, debating lightly on who was gonna take over the shower first. Y/N slides her feet into the slippers that are specifically her slippers in his home and slinks off towards the kitchen, as Atsumu peels off his shirt and heads towards the shower. It feels comfortable, almost like a routine, as Y/N gathers eggs and two noodle packets to make them a small meal before bed. Moments later, Atsumu is coming out of the shower, towelling off his hair before settling onto the sofa, clicking on the T.V. as Y/N comes in with the two bowls of noodles. A silent agreement is met when they finish that Atsumu would wash the dishes as Y/N showered, taking a shirt from his drawers to sleep in

She hands him a bottle of aspirin, mumbling around the toothbrush to “take two or so help me.” Moments later she joins him in bed, slipping on a pair of socks that are two sizes too big for her before settling under the plush fabric of his comforter. He shifts over closer to her after tossing his phone on the nightstand, seeking out her form in the now dim room for a small cuddle before dozing off. She willingly accepts him too, sliding her body just under his and buries her face in his skin, still warm from the too-hot shower he is prone to taking in the name of muscle relaxation. He hums slightly as their feet tangle together, silently appreciating the way Y/N so freely indulges his need to touch someone after being touch-starved for so long.

Though Y/N isn’t much like him in that sense - doesn’t have this inherent need to cling to someone before bed, or just hold hands at a store, or hands on the shoulder in a crowded room. Sometimes she will, like now with her nose buried in his neck and her hand rubbing up and down the length of his sturdy back. Normally they won’t do this, both just a little too headstrong to dig into the tightening in their chests when the hug for a moment longer than usual; but tonight Y/N is silently congratulating him on winning the game that has had him stressed for weeks. She feels his lips press softly to the top of her head, a mumble of “good night” leaving his lips as she feels his breaths even out as the moments pass.

This is where Y/N wishes she had the power to pull away - blames moments like this on giving her the slightest bit of hope that they could be more than friends.

It's not that she hadn’t thought about it - frankly she’d spent too much time thinking about it. She could do this… with him.. But every thought is put to bed when she thinks back on this one conversation months ago. Granted she didn’t have the full context of the conversation but it's enough to make her heart squeeze when she sees Atsumu flirt with someone, or shake off his hand when she’s had a particularly sensitive day.

It was just another evening where hanging out after him and the rest of the team being away for a week. They’d ordered in food and drinks had been flowing nicely as the comfortable pair had caught up - it was honestly too homey of a setting in hindsight. His phone rang, the white text of “‘Samu” flashed and Y/N took that as a cue to finally get to the restroom.

“Mhm.. made it back early today - no Y/N picked me up.” He’d been mumbling around a handful of chips, the other side of the conversation mute to Y/N’s eavesdropping.. “Oh shut up, she doesn’t mind and it's not as if we’re dating anyway. It’s.. casual and it works for us.”

And she should’ve stepped into her place next to him, cuddled up into her chest and played the role of the blissfully ignorant idiot. But no, she stayed tucked behind the restroom door, blood pumping and heart beating too loud in her ears. It would seem as though Y/N was a glutton for punishment, a minor thing when thinking about putting herself through a moment of pain for a lifetime of pleasure - but the pain that came with Miya Atsumu’s next words would set her off kilter for a while.

“Besides, she’s not really my type. It’d never work out anyway.”

She had no choice really other than to shut the door. Take some extra time in the restroom than necessary - after all she’d just hear the potential love of her life admit to his twin brother that she wasn’t his type. All she could do really was stare at herself in the stupidly bright mirror in his stupid guest bathroom of his stupidly expensive apartment.  God this is so stupid, she thinks to herself while running cold water to press against her cheeks that she feels are heated up. Before she can really tear her own heart to bits though, she hears a quick rapt on the door.

“Y/N ya’right in there? Warned y’bout putting too much hot sauce on your food.”

But that’d been two years ago. It was a little rough after that; Y/N had thrown herself into finding a life post-grad which was a great distraction from the rumors going around that Atsumu had been spotted with some model or actress or something. Besides, Y/N wasn’t really the type to harp on failed romantic interests - all she’d need to do is download whatever relevant dating app for some validation and she’d be able to move on. However nights like tonight, when he looked too good and the little moment was a little too right - she’d still hope. Make a wish to whatever angle number or shooting star or deity above that she’d get tossed a chance to be in love with the stupid setter, because she had already fallen.

“Mm y’right?” She heard him, how could she not when he’s practically suffocating her. She chooses not to answer though, humming affirmatively - to which he huffs and shifts slightly, settling back into unconsciousness.

Maybe she’d blame the train of thoughts for tonight on the fact that she’d been drinking. However, come morning, the seed would bloom a little brighter in her chest when she wakes up to realize that her face is pressed into his side, arms circling his slim waist and one sock lost among their tangled legs.

---

God she hated him. Miya Atsumu was too much of a lot of things - too much of a sore winner, too much of an idiot, too much of a talker, and most of all, too much of a liar.

For the second time in the span of a month, Atsumu had convinced her to come out, despite her desperately wanting to curl up in bed and binge eat away the stress of the week. Only this time it was a charity event, so she would definitely be the bad guy if she said no. It was an event where him and the rest of his team had been roped into a charity dinner - which (gratefully) meant that Sakusa would be around, and they could fuck off to a corner someplace to talk shit about what all the rich wives are wearing and how bad it looks when their husbands are flirting with the wait staff. But Atsumu had promised that they’d leave before the entree was served - swore the entire drive over that “we’ll get you back home in time, grandma” and that he’d even cook for her this time.

But the entree had been whisked off about forty minutes ago, her wine glass had been refilled twice, and she was bored of watching Sakusa look at his watch, waiting for an appropriate time to leave. Atsumu was a few tables away, chatting up some couple, something about wanting to get their information for Osamu’s business. He would laugh a little too loudly at their jokes, gaining attention of those at surrounding tables - which was only mildly irritating as he had now gathered a crowd of people around him, spewing off some story about him getting lost in Russia the first time they played overseas.

She huffs and stands up, chair scraping slightly, gaining the attention of the rest of the  table. All she does is hold up her wine glass in a feeble attempt at an answer of where she’d be waiting at the bar. If I have to be here, the least I could do is drink for free. The bar is empty, surprisingly no one wants to mope around this very nice dinner.

“What can I get you?”

“Mmm.. whiskey highball, please.” She answers to the unnecessarily cute bartender, but the raise of his eyebrows do not go unnoticed.  And fortunately (or unfortunately) she’s got the time to press him. “Surprised?”

“Only a little bit. Noticed you were drinking wine most of the night so the whiskey is a hard switch.”

“So you’ve been watching me?” She muses, smiling as he places the drink in front of her. He smiles and leans forward on the bar slightly, shaking his head and replying.

“It’s almost as if… I’m being paid to make sure people have their drinks.”

“Oh, so it's not because I’m cute?”

“Now I didn’t say that did I? But you know you’re gorgeous; your boyfriend over there must tell you all the time.” He muses, a smirk playing at his lips as he nods behind her. She all but chokes on her drink when she turns around and sees that the direction he nodded in was directly in Atsumu’s vicinity before shaking her head violently. Atsumu was not going to ruin this for her. “Oh so not your boyfriend?”

“Nope.” She says, popping the ‘p’ as she slips the straw past her lips again, eyes taking in his leaning form. He was cute. His hair was on the silver side of blond, tips of his hair black. He was tall and lean, a piercing hanging from his left ear.

“That’s a shame.” And she gives him her name with a flutter of her lashes and a sweet smile. He returns it, preparing her next drink without her even having to ask. And so they talk, first about how the next person who approaches the bar should be cut off, to how pretentious the whole event was. Two drinks in, Y/N finds herself being invited to a show.

“This whole bartending thing is just a way for me to get some extra cash… I’ve got a gig in an hour. I figured if we leave together now, I can get you home to change outta this and into something a little more… concert fitting?”

“O-Oh.. yeah. I just need to go let my friend know…” She trails off, sliding off her barstool before turning to gracefully power walking to her initial seat next to Sakusa. She huffs and she plots herself down in the char next to him, to which he gives her a look of what the fuck. “I don’t have time to catch you up, but the insanely hot bartender is taking me home. As much as I’d love to get out of here with you, I desperately need to get lai-”

“Going somewhere?” Fuck fuck fuck.

“Didn’t you hear her? The hot bartender is taking her home and she needs -”

“Aishhhh shut up.” She turns to look at her curly haired friend, only to see that he’s got this annoying little smile on his face. She deeply exhales and turns back to Atsumu, who looks less than amused about what his friend said. “Listen, you promised me we’d leave two hours ago. Well you lied so nooow I made plans, so if you would kindly move outta my way.”

“No.” She whips her head up at the blonde. No? What the absolute fuck was he going on about telling her no, despite her not asking for his permission. “You’ve been drinking and you don’t even know the guy - how can you trust that he won’t memorize your address then come rob you or something? I promised to take you home, and since you’re ready now we can leave now.”

“Listen Miya, I appreciate the concern but really I’m a big girl. I can handle a night out by myself with a guy - besides I’m not even that drunk. Now, give me my house keys and move out of my way.”

Suddenly, it's like those cheesy western movies where two cowboys are staring each other down, neither willing to be put down by the other. Except it's this 6’2” pro-athlete staring quite literally down at Y/N, who hits the gym only on a blue moon and spends too much time sitting at a desk. Sakusa has to laugh at the two stubborn idiots in front of him; he knows that Atsumu is going to be able to win this little game that they're playing, but silently applauds Y/N for attempting to stick it to him. Moments pass before Atsumu finally sighs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his expensive suit and pulling out her keys - but he doesn’t give them to her.

“What’s his name? If you can tell me his name I’ll give you your keys and let you go.”

“Let me go? Okay, Dad.” She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest, small clutch dangling from her wrist. “I know his name, Atsumu. I may have had a drink or two but I’m not an idiot to be going off with someone who’s name I don’t even know... it’s… uhm.” And she’s done. She hadn’t even bothered to ask his name, doesn’t even remember whether she gave him hers, nor was she smart enough to notice whether he’d been wearing a name tag.  Mentally she’s cursing herself, chancing a glance behind Atsumu’s shoulder to see the hot bartender chatting it up with another girl. Before she can think too much into it, Atsumu sighs deeply, grabbing his suit jacket off the chair next to her and slipping it on his shoulders, a soft “let’s go” leaving his lips as he nods his good-bye to the rest of the table. Y/N chews at the inside of her cheek before grabbing his arm.

“Give me my keys. I’m not going home with you. I want to be alone.”

---

Four days passed - four days of Atsumu borderline harassing Y/N with apologies. Promising to make it up to her. Which is how she finds herself walking into their favorite local sushi restaurant - it's the only one that has self-serving sushi that arrives on a miniature train, and it's also the only place that they go when apologies are to be exchanged. In the handful of years that they’d be friends, Y/N has needed to apologize to Atsumu thrice - two for blowing him off after overhearing the dreaded words and once for saying that maybe Osamu was the better twin. Atsumu on the other hand, had apologized to Y/N many times - so many times in fact that Y/N is sure that he makes up excuses just so they can come eat at this sushi place.

It’s been a long week for Y/N. The Sunday after the charity event, Y/N wakes up with one of the worst headaches of her life - and its due to the fact that she slept like shit hoping that Atsumu made it home safe since he hadn’t texted her he did. Monday she was handed a stack of documents at work that needed to get done before lunch (which didn’t get done). Tuesday morning was dominated by the fact that some idiot on the train to work had spilt a coffee on her, making her wear the most uncomfortable suit jacket, lest she wear a coffee soaked shirt for most of the day. Today, Wednesday, she’d woken up to a box with a pastry outside her door and a cup of coffee with a sticky note on the lid.

Sorry. Let me make it up to you. Train Sushi? 7pm?

Despite the fact that she was most definitely still thinking about why Atsumu acted the way he did - she still went through the mountain of paperwork on her desk with a little smile, knowing that she’d be getting free sushi and an apology. Maybe if she’s lucky, she can convince him that she needs a crepe on the way home.

As she makes her way into the restaurant that evening, she sees him. His dorito-shaped body is stationed at the bar, a cozy brown coat hugging his back, muscles of his arms being squeezed by the sleeves. She can see that he’s got a drink in front of him and she smiles slightly, stepping up towards the bar but stops momentarily. He’s talking to someone - not just someone, a girl. He’s smiling too. Y/N can’t see the stranger’s face, but judging by the way that she has a hand around his biceps and her head tilted, one can only assume that they know each other. Y/N attempts to step backwards, she wants to let him finish his conversation with the woman but she doesn’t know if she can stomach the idea of watching them flirt; but she misses the step, leading her to bump into the hostess who led her to the bar, creating a bit of a scene.

“Y/N! There you are! C’mere.”

She’s buying time by profusely apologizing to the hostess, who honestly is probably just trying to get away. At this point, Y/N has no choice but to walk towards her friend and this mystery woman. The ten steps towards the pair is enough time for Y/N to mentally list off all the things she could have done in the world to warrant some shitty karma that’s hitting her now. Once face to face with Atsumu, she smiles.

“Sorry - long day at work got me all …” Y/N’s words trail off, the hand that’s not death-gripping her purse waves off with her closing thoughts.

“Don’t mind, Wednesday’s are usually your long days. ‘Sides you’re here now - tha’s what matters.” God he’s so dumb. So handsome and so dumb, and god did she miss him. “It’s a good thing you got here a little late, this is Michimiya Yui. I think you two might’ve -”

“No, I don’t think we’ve met! It’s so nice to meet you - he used to talk about you all the time!” The brunette smiles at Y/N, sticking her hand out, which Y/N takes limply, shaking her hand. She’s pretty, Y/N thinks to herself. Her hair is short and she’s wearing some cute leather thigh high boots, her smile is almost paid-for perfect. She’s got this whole brown smoked out eyeliner working for her, which makes Y/N slightly subconscious about her most likely smudged and uneven eyeliner and less-than appealing work pants. Before Y/N can even think of a response to give, Michimiya has her hand back on Atsumu, a pretty smile settling on her lips. It feels like Y/N is watching a trainwreck happening before her eyes. “I was just telling Atsumu that I was back in town and that we should hang out!”

“And I was just explaining to her that I had plans with yo-”

“You should join us!” Idiot. Why am I such a fucking idiot? Atsumu looks over at Y/N with a wild look in his eyes, Michimiya looks like a child who wound up making out with two candies instead of one. “I had a super long day at work today so I’m really only able to eat dinner, but I know Atsumu can stay up for hours so once I leave you two can hang out.”

“Y/N, I thought that -”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea! I just need to tell the wait staff to cancel my to-go order, so excuse me.”

And so the two friends watch the woman walk away from them, making her way towards the to-go order area. Y/N bites at the inside of her cheek, intentionally avoiding Atsumu’s eyes that she feels are pinned on her. She digs out her phone from her purse, texting Sakusa an ominous “next time you see me, please poison me 😑.” As Y/N drags her eyes up Atsumu’s front, she feels the same way she did when she would get scolded by her parents. His eyes are staring at her face, no doubt wanting to press her about why she willingly invited a stranger to eat with them at their restaurant. To pacify him, all she does is hold up her hand, shaking her head.

“It’s fine, Miya. Like you said, Wednesday’s are my long days so I wouldn’t be able to stay out late with you anyway. Besides…” She starts, fixing a smile onto her face. “I think that she might have a little crush on you!” He says nothing, lips pressed in a hard line and a brow arched up at her. “Don’t look at me like that. And save your apology for next time… we have company.”

The rest of the evening goes exactly like Y/N’s worst nightmare. She is quite literally the third-wheel despite the fact that technically Michimiya was supposed to be the third wheel in this little scenario. Y/N has to watch the pretty brunette flirt relentlessly with Atsumu, who seems blissfully oblivious to the fact that for every compliment Michimiya gives Y/N, she gives herself two more. Sakusa is well informed on the situation, receiving texts every five minutes with another dumb thing that was said in front of Y/N’s appatizers. Rarely does someone ever wish for a natural disaster to hit, but in the last thirty minutes of sitting at this table, Y/N has wished for every biblical curse to wreak havoc in her way.

Despite the fact that Michimiya has hijacked every conversation, Atsumu still tries to ask Y/N about her, including her in the conversation as much as possible. But Y/N stopped trying twenty minutes ago, and is now forcing herself to eat the last few pieces of sushi she ordered - normally she’s a stress eater, but Michimiya has rested her hand on Atsumu’s thigh and Y/N has suddenly never felt more sick in her life. Y/N has never once picked up a tab around Atsumu - “please, ‘ve got more money than I know whatta do wit’it” he’d always tell her when she attempted to take up the ticket - but when they finally wave down someone and ask for the check, Y/N drops some cash on the table and collects her things.

“It’s been so nice to meet you, but I think I should really get going. I’ve gotta get to work early tomorrow - I’ll see you this weekend right, Miya?”

“Wait up, I’ll take you home… Yui it’s been really -”

“No no, really it's okay! You stay! I’ll just text you when I get home. Be safe. And again it was so nice to meet you - take care of Atsumu for me.”

“Oh I will!”

Y/N is not a runner but she’s never sprinted away from a situation so fast in her life. The image of Michimiya’s sly little smile at Y/N’s request to take care of her friend makes her feel gross, tears stinging at the back of her eyes and she settles on the train. Y/N can name a handful of times when she’d seen Atsumu around women - but never once had she’d met someone he was romantically involved with and it hurts. The gentle sway of the train does nothing to settle the spinning of her head with images of what Atsumu actually looks for - his actual type. She feels like an idiot; she should have just told Atsumu that they could do a raincheck, or if she was feeling bold, she could’ve told Michimiya to fuck off. The latter seems possible in the version of herself in Y/N’s head, but the reality was that she was too nice. Always wanted to make the people she cares about happy, and Atsumu looked... happy? Besides, Y/N thinks to herself as she exits the train and makes the trek towards her apartment building, if Michimiya Yui was going to be involved with Atsumu, the more exposure she had to her, the better off Y/N would be in accepting that Atsumu would never ever be with Y/N like that.

Once settled in her apartment, she sends off a quick “home. thanks for tonight!” to Atsumu before making her way to the bathroom. A nice warm soak would surely make her feel better, make her forget about what an idiot she is and maybe, just maybe, make her body relax all the love she holds in her heart for the blond away. Her phone pings, twice, but she ignores it. Ten minutes into her pity soak she hears a bang on her door, which only makes her groan and dunk her head under the water. The banging stops, making Y/N think it was just her neighbor or something asking for a favor. What she doesn’t expect is for her to exit the bath twenty minutes later to see Sakusa Kiyoomi sittin on her couch.

“Hello, glad to see you exploiting your spare key access.”

“Miya called me and said you looked like shit earlier. And judging by your texts throughout the evening, I figured you were on the brink of a breakdown.”

And so she was. She spent the rest of the evening talking Kiyoomi through the night, slipping in all the questions she’s had from the past two times that Atsumu had cockblocked her. And bless Kiyoomi for sitting through her tears, sitting cross-legged and drinking tea that he had initially made for her but refused to let her drink once he realized she had already brushed her teeth. It felt almost like she was finally thinking about what her friendship with Miya Atsumu was, what it could and couldn’t be. Every moment painted so clearly about how Y/N felt for her blond friend, but the only thing missing was how said friend felt about her. At 11:30 pm, two hours after Kiyoomi initially arrived at Y/N’s apartment, she pushed Kiyoomi out the door, eyes puffy but heart and head a little clearer than how they were when he arrived.

Despite promising Kiyoomi that she would not think about Atsumu, as Y/N settles into bed, her thoughts can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be with him. She mulls it over as she slides off her socks, deciding that it’d be nice - probably exactly how they are now, plus a title and a little less swatting his hands away when he reaches for her in public. Y/N can’t help it as she thinks about whether they would kiss a lot - they’ve kissed before, neither strangers to cheek kisses as greetings or kisses at the top of their heads when the other is crying into their chest (there was even that very drunk kiss they shared on New Years Eve when their friendship was fresh that both still have warm cheeks about when they think about). Just as she’s about to go down the path of whether Atsumu would spend more nights with her at her cardboard box of an apartment or her at his, Y/N cuts herself off - after all she wasn’t his type. Tonight proved that more than anything, she thinks.

It’s not like Atsumu has never brought anyone around Y/N - there’d been a few that she’d met, though they were mostly over a facetime call and it was mostly just her waving at them before Atsumu ducked away to have a private conversation. It's not like tonight was the first night Y/N had to swallow the bile in her mouth at seeing someone make heart eyes at Atsumu - it's just this time felt different; almost like Y/N was finally having the truth thrusted into her face. But Y/N isn’t mad or hateful of Michimiya, nor Atsumu for that matter - she’d never been the type to hate a girl for having feelings for the person she has feelings for. It’s annoying, sure, but Y/N doesn’t see the point in hating someone for how they feel - however, Y/N does not make the effort to become friends with these girls, or maintain the close friendship with Atsumu for that matter. Is it petty to put a strain on a friendship out of fear of losing said friendship? Absolutely! But Y/N knows she won’t be able to stomach another night like tonight - another night of seeing Atsumu slip so easily from her fingers into the arms of another. And as observant as Atsumu is, he never fully recognizes that Y/N is avoiding him, at least that what she hopes since more often than he’s able to worm himself back into her life.

---

Following the failed apology dinner, Y/N tried her hardest to give herself a few days without the blonde- made easy by the fact that the weekend after the failed apology dinner he’d be out of town for another tournament. It’s not like she was totally avoiding him, she’d responded to his texts and even answered two of his six facetime calls while he was away, she just wanted a little bit of time to wallow in self pity in her apartment, crying over her comfort movies and eating too many bags of hot chips. But once he was back in the same timezone as her, Atsumu made it impossible for Y/N to fully wallow.

It started when he texted her about their favorite crepe place temporarily closing for some reason or other - he’d tried to convince her to ditch work early that day to come, but Y/N declined with a simple text of “i like my job tyvm.” So what did he do? Pick her up in his flashy sports car that day after work (two hours later than usual since she’d figured he’d do something ridiculous like this) and drove her there, where he didn’t bat an eyelash as she ordered double than what she normally would have (a silent fuck you from Y/N but it didn’t matter since she wasn’t actualy hurting his wallet). She’d been able to tide him off for a few days, as she escaped to her hometown for a weekend - but that did little to stop the mirage of texts he’d sent her, describing in great detail this cool hybrid bookstore-game cafe that he found and thinks she’d like. Instead of responding how she actually wanted, she’d just replied with a half-assed “ahh exciting- sounds cute!” (She mentally grants herself ten nice points for erasing her initially text, telling him to take his “fucking girlfriend”). This must have really struck a nerve with him when the following weekend, he’d dragged her out of bed on Sunday morning to take her to said bookstore-game cafe, even spoiling her by secretly buying a book she’d picked up but put back.

Y/N can’t tell if Atsumu is intentionally ignoring the hints she doesn’t want to see him or if he’s really just oblivious. She also can’t tell if the patter of her heart when he drags her out of bed despite her not wanting to see him is a good thing or not. It’s been weeks since she’d third-wheeled with Atsumu and Michimiya, surely Y/N should have been able to take a little bit of pride in the fact that he was literally chasing her down to spend time with her rather than Michimiya - but before she can even swallow that pill Atsumu shows up at her apartment with the trace of a bruise hiding just below his shirt collar. The small mark on his neck makes Y/N convince herself that this would be the time that she needs a full on Atsumu ban.

Said ban never actually happens, though.

Just as proof that this ban doesn’t happen, today Atsumu has decided that Y/N needs to come shopping with him. For the entire day. Cue the montage of Atsumu banging on Y/N’s door at nine in the morning, breakfast pastries and coffee in hand as Y/N answers in all her morning glory, sleep caked up in the outer corner of her eyes and pajamas haphazardly fixed. Words are exchanged as Atsumu pushes her towards the shower, promising to make up her bed and even take out the trash for her (a chore she put off last night because she’d seen too many people smoking by the dumpsters which scared her enough to make her drag up the two bags of back up the five flights of stairs). As Y/N settles at her desk to work on making herself “the hottest person at the market,” Atsumu settles on her bed, talking a mile a minute about all the things he wanted to get at the market and the possible places they could go for lunch in the area. All she can do is hum, wondering silently why he’d chosen to take the trip with her and not his girlfriend - but she wouldn’t complain.

The market was...fulfilling enough. Surprisingly, Y/N was walking towards the food trucks with more bags in her hands than Atsumu, who followed behind her with one print from a vendor that Y/N convinced him would actually look good in his home office. The pair decided that Y/N was better suited to look for a place where they could park themselves to eat, while Atsumu went off to get them lunch. Before Y/N could make a break for the tables though, Atsumu grabbed her face, thumb swiping at her cheek firmly - it took Y/N every ounce of restraint to not whimper at the unprompted affection.

“Wha-”

“Had some of that jam sample from earlier on your face, dummy.”

“Tsk… why didn’t you see it earlier.”

He just smiled softly, letting the warmth of his hand fall from her face before patting her back towards her initial direction. Frankly, she’d been thrown off her rhythm; they’d touched each other before for fucks sake. So why was this one moment of closeness enough to make her chest feel tight? As she weaved through the tables, she can’t help but hold her hand to where his was, almost as if to preserve the warmth that was now gone. She hummed gleefully as she found a table, making her way towards it and setting up camp. As she settles into her chair, fingers deftly texting to Atsumu where she’s stationed, she sees a shadow come across the table.

“Hey, are you gonna use all these chairs?” He’s cute, almost terribly cute - he’s got this pinkish-blonde hair going on top, an almost shy glint in his gray-ish colored eyes, and an almost self-assured smile pulling at his lips. He was also tall, much taller since Y/N was sitting, but she almost doesn’t mind considering the fact that she is most definitely gawking at him. She shakes her head momentarily, both as an answer to his question and a way to clear her head momentarily.

“Thanks! My friend over there is too precious to sit on the curb, apparently.” He smiles at her, eyes squinting and she’s momentarily breathless at just how cute he is when he smiles. His arms move to grab one of the chairs and that's when she decides to speak up, not wanting to quite end the conversation yet.

“Ahh no worries! I know all about having that too precious friend! I only need one other chair so you can take two of these.”

“Oh cool thanks… and hey this might be a little weird but - fuck are you from Miyagi? You look kinda like this one girl from high school but - “

“I am! I went to Aoba Johsai and -”

He clicks his tongue and seems to smile even brighter now. “That’s right - you’re Y/N right? I think you were a year younger than us right, but you always hung out with that one girl in my year who used to smoke behind the boy’s gym…” Y/N nods, a grimace on her face and the back of her neck feeling a little warm with embarrassment. How could she possibly explain that said girl was actually Y/N’s cousin and that she didn’t actually smoke, she’d just smell like it after working at their family restaurant. “Well I’m Makki, by the way. If you remember Matsukawa and Iwaizumi they're over there - they were at Seijoh too.” She nods, leaning slightly to see the two men behind him, both wearing smiles that were just a little too cheeky.

“Yeah yeah, I remember… you also had a particular whiny one with you too, right?” He laughs at that, responding that said whiny one was actually abroad. The two make a little conversation, her giving him some suggestions on places to visit since one of his trio is actually visiting for the weekend. Y/N thinks this is nice - feels like the main character in a movie with the amount of men that have approached her in the past couple weeks. Before she can get too cocky in her ability to pull though, Atsumu walks up to the table, hands full with a tray that seems to be piled with too many little plates.

“There y’are… couldn’t see you from across the way… everything okay?” Atsumu questions, standing to his full height as if sizing up Makki, who seems completely unphased by Atsumu.

“Yeah, was just asking your girlfriend if I could steal these two chairs away before I realized that we knew each other.” The strawberry blonde is definitely unphased by Atsumu, who’s shoulders visibly relax at Makki’s suggestion that the two friends were together. “Well it was nice seeing you, Y/N! Thanks again for the chairs, you all enjoy your meal.”

As Makki walks away, Atsumu settles into his own chair with a smug little smile playing at his lips. Y/N, on the other hand, is chewing at the inside of her cheek as food is placed in front of her. Her blond friend, the observant little shit, notices that she doesn’t immediately tuck into the lunch laid in front of her and nudges her foot with his, muttering a quick “what's wrong.”

“You were blessed with possibly the worst timing in the world, y’know that?”

“What d’ya mean?” He muses, taking in her huffily pulling the lid off her food and stuffing her face with the rice bowl in front of her.. She chews, combing the food on her plate with the plastic fork as a way to stop herself from unleashing all her frustrations.

“You always but in whenever I start getting hit on! Or you stop every chance I have at possibly getting to know someone; you come in here full force and its really not fair. I don’t do it to you, and it's just not fair.” Y/N hates that she probably sounds like a whining child, but she really can’t help it anymore. It’s really not fair that Atsumu flaunts his conquests on the cover of every magazine, but god forbid Y/N talk to a guy. “Its been a while since I’ve had sex, Atsumu, and it’s getting to a point where I’d jump just about anyone’s bones. I - I just think that as my best friend you should be providing me some support, not cockblocking me at every fucking opportunity you get.”

It takes every fiber in his body to not laugh at how ridiculous Y/N is being right now. He licks at his lip, catching whatever food crumbs he could before clearing his throat. “‘M sorry what? You actually wanna hook up with those guys? They seem like the type to just fuck ya n’ then not text you back.”

“And if that’s what I want then so what!? Did you miss the part where I said I’m desperate here?”

“Then..” He takes a swig at his water bottle in front of him, leaning back slightly in his seat and sliding his sunglasses to rest on the top of his head. “If you need it that badly then you can just do it with me. You said anyone so I can -”

She laughs, one that sounds on the brink of delusion. “You’re fucking ridiculous. Yeah okay… Dunno if you remember but you’ve got a girlfriend, Miya.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, Y/N. We’re… not that serious with each other and we’re also open. She knows that..'' He looks smug, and Y/N wants to smack the absolute life out of him. “And I’m being serious, darlin.. I’d rather get you off than see you get your hopes up over some random.”

Y/N squeezes the poor utensil in her hand, choosing to chomp down one of the buns on the table instead of reminding Atsumu that she wasn’t exactly his type. But she lets it go, just squinting at him and shaking her head, mumbling how ridiculous he is before swiping some of his veggies off his plate. How else is she supposed to react to her best friend blatantly telling her that he’d fuck her if she’d ask - she tries to ignore the way that their knees resting on each other under the table makes her heart soar. Before she can form a sentence, something to steer the direction away from her sex life (or lack thereof), Atsumu mumbles around a forkful of food that she’d better hurry since he wants to do another lap of the market before it closes.

---

Atsumu’s offer and that entire conversation is brought up again a few days later; the pair are in Y/N’s apartment this time. She’d asked him and his brother to come over to install some shelves for her, but apparently Osamu was busy. With the shelves installed, Y/N put on a movie to serve as Atsumu’s entertainment whilst she organized her trinkets. She wasn’t really paying attention to the movie, too concerned with trying to see if the shelves were actually level or not when she heard Atsumu laugh behind her, muting the T.V. with a quizzical brow raised.

“Huh? If you don’t like the movie then you can change it… ‘m not payin atten-”

“Oh yeah not paying attention right?” She gives him a hard look as if proving to him that she can’t honestly give him the plot of the movie. “So you’re telling me that its just a coincidence that this movie is about two friends who make a pact to fuck each other? That it's a coincidence that the literal name of the movie is ‘Friends with Benefits”

She rolls her eyes and turns to face him fully, seeing that he’s now sat up on her couch with his elbows resting on his knees. A beat passes before he puts his hands up, almost as if in surrender, before he pushes himself off the couch and towards the kitchen. She watches him as he pulls out a bottle of wine, nodding to the couch as if asking her to take a break. She relents, folding her legs under herself and pulling at a string on the worn sofa, thinking she’d probably try to replace this piece before she renewed her lease. He thrusts the glass to her, settling into the sofa but he makes no move to unmute the T.V., instead inciting some silent battle while they each sip from their respective glasses.

“Y’know you’ve been snappy lately… my offer from the other day still stands, hope y’know tha’.” She scoffs, choosing to take another swig at her wine, which does little to cool the warmth she feels in her throat. He’s not technically wrong - the conversation the other day had made a fog of tension hang over her, making a long lost desire for the blond resurface in her lower abdomen at full force. She’d spent way too much time the other night on Amazon, debating on whether it would be a good idea to get rechargeable batteries for her toy, spent too long watching his mouth move when he’d facetimed her the other night. It's not that Y/N hadn’t hooked up with anyone since knowing Atsumu, it's just that maybe she’d spent a little too much time enjoying how Atsumu met her emotional needs that she had neglected her physical needs.

“What offer?” She’ll be damned to let him in on the fact that she’d done nothing but think about his stupid offer. Refuses to let him know that she wants, no needs, to say yes. So she plays dumb, finger dancing along the lip of her cup, foot swinging anxiously against the floor.

He hums, reaching to put his glass on her beat up coffee table. He leans his elbow on the back of the couch, placing his chin in his hand, giving Y/N his undivided attention. “‘Samu was talking about how his girlfriend has been on his ass lately about every little thing and so I asked him if they’re doin’ okay, y’know physically… didn’t answer me but I figured he’d solved it if he hasn’t mentioned it since. I heard someone say that if yer girl’s acting fussy then y’need to think about if you’ve been fuckin’ her right and well…” Y/N swallows the lump in her throat, stopping the shiver that threatens to rack her body at the idea of Atsumu thinking she’s his girl. “I was bein’ serious the other day. I know ya were mad so it wasn’t the best time to bring it up, but it seemed like the only good thing to say. Besides, ‘m not all that bad in bed, can ring up a few people if y’need a review.”

Y/N doesn’t respond with anything other than a forced huff of laughter, can't respond really. It feels too warm, she’s hoping that maybe this is some fever dream instead of reality. She just plays with her cup absentmindedly, not quite able to look the blond in the eyes despite the fact that his eyes are studying her face as if she holds all the answer to the questions the universe has. Him being bad in bed is the least of her worries, what if she’s bad? God she wants to say yes, maybe she’ll say yes - maybe it’d be good for her to finally get some di-

“Forget it, ‘m sorry. If it makes you uncomfortable then we don’t have to, sweetheart. I just -”

“I’m not uncomfortable.” Oh now she speaks. He looks at her, a wild look fixed on his face, almost as if he doesn’t believe the words that came out of her mouth. “It's just..” She throws her head back, face covered momentarily by some plant leaves. God she didn’t want to actually voice her thoughts but now she has no choice.

“It’s just what? If yer worried about the fuckin part, I can just get you off other ways. Get paid to be good with my hands -”

“Just shut up for once please, you’re ruining it.” He makes a show of zipping his lips, smiling as Y/N squares herself to him, stretching her neck as if she’s preparing for a fight, rather than speaking a coherent sentence.. “It's just that I don’t… dont wanna force you into thinking you have to ‘cos I’m being bitchy to you.. Like it’s not your problem to fix y’know and I just. Besides, don't wanna be the only one enjoying it, want you to like it too and … for fucks sake this is ridiculous. I just dunno I-”

Atsumu’s hand reaches out towards her, fingers stroking her knee in a comforting manner but it’s all but comforting to Y/N, who’s entire leg feels on fire at this small moment of skinship. “Shh, shh, no baby yer not forcing me to do anything. Don’t think that way - I-I wanna do it! I wan’ya to be happy and if this makes you happy then… And i mean if y’need more of a reason then think of it as a way for me to say sorry for cockblockin’ ya all the time.”

Y/N doesn’t say yes, but she also doesn’t outright decline. She can’t think of anything other than how, if she nodded her head, he’d give her everything she’d been wanting. Atsumu and Y/N stare at each other, moments pass and she’s sure that he’s going to take her stillness and silence as a no - but he just moves to grab her wine glass, moving it from her grasp to the table, shifting closer to her in the process. She holds her breath and he brings one of his hands towards her face, palming the side of her jaw in his warm hand, thumb rubbing at the plush skin of her lips. “Can I kiss ya? Maybe tha’s all ya need is a good kiss, yeah?” She nods, his hand moving to pluck at her bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger. “Got really nice lips, don’t you? ‘S so soft and wet, catch myself wanting to touch ‘em allot’' She inhales softly as he leans in, his hand sliding to the side of her neck and he litters soft kisses against her jaw. She whines softly when his mouth nears hers. “Shh, gonna kiss you in a minit.”

All Y/N can do is breath, mouth parted slightly as Atsumu drags his mouth over her face. His hand is so warm and big on her skin; he’s so close in her face that all she can do is inhale and smell him, making her dizzy with building warmth in her belly. They catch each other’s gaze, neither daring to blink away, before he tilts his head, pressing his mouth against hers softly at first. He doesn’t move to kiss her, just holds his lips over hers for a moment, as if giving her time to back away if she wants to; but when she doesn’t, he hums and pulls her head towards his more, lips moving in tandem. His hand slides from her cheek, worming its way towards the nape of her neck as he pulls her to him - he wastes no time in deepening the kiss, licking into her mouth with  fervor. And she lets him, moving into his lap as she relishes in the feeling of his tongue lazily swirling with her own; the new found position allows him to drag his hand down her back soothingly, her own hands sliding around his neck and up into his hair.

She parts with a soft gasp, whether it be for air or out of surprise she can’t tell. He whines momentarily, before nosing his way down towards her neck, pressing butterfly-light kisses at the flesh. She’s wiggling in his arms, and he laughs, the air ticking the soft bend of her collarbone. “Fuck, you’ve been holdin out on me. Tha’ was good right? A good kiss for ya?” All Y/N can do is nod, sliding her hand towards his face in hopes of bringing his lips back to hers. She can feel the smirk on his mouth when she presses their mouths together again, and maybe after she’d bitch him out about it but right now all she wants is to be suffocated by him.

Moments pass, the air filled with soft pants in between kisses and thickening arousal. Atsumu cards his fingers in her hair gently, mouth still against hers, free hand sneaking around Y/N’s front. She whines softly, to which he shushes her softly. “Shh you’re okay… just wanna feel ya.” He soothes her over by indulging her in soft kisses against her lips,   hand pushing up the front of her ratty t-shirt, snaking his hand past the waistband of her shorts into the confines of her (now too tight) underwear. Y/N shudders when he strokes lightly over her clit, before surpassing it completely and going to where a wet spot had been developing on the fabric. Plucking the damp cotton out of the way and letting the tips of two fingers rub over her weeping hole, “Oh.. this for me?”

A small noise crawls out of her throat, a mix between a moan, a whine, and surprise. “Don’t, ‘tsumu. It’s embarrassing..”

“Shh don’t be embarrassed. Just feels good to know I make ya feel good, baby.” Atsumu pulls his fingers from her, smiling when she whines at the loss of contact. But he’s able to soother her before she can get too fussy; one moment Y/N is on top of him, struggling to not rock against his thigh and relieve some of the pressure building up inside of her, the next Atsumu has her flipped over so her back, her body caged between the back of the sofa and his arms. A hand on either side of her head as he bends in, sweeps his tongue at a strip of salty skin just beneath her jaw. He hastily shoves up the shirt she’s wearing, revealing more of her and letting his hands graze over her breasts lightly at first before kneading them. She feels lightheaded while his mouth works on her throat, biting and sucking a bruise at the base of it that makes her gulp. Parting from the skin with a gentle kiss and a small, whispered comment of, “Taste so good, so soft and sweet. Been holding out on me, hmm?”

For the first time ever, Y/N has Atsumu in her arms and has no need to push him away - no, instead she’s holding onto him as if she’d die if he slipped away from her, her hands gripping his broad shoulders before sliding up into his hair as he makes his way down her body. He’s practically praising her - pressing wet, open mouthed kisses on her skin as he moves downwards, fingers making quick work of tugging her bottoms off, helping her kick out of them quickly and clumsily. She knows that Atsumu is not a patient man, but this is a whole other level of impatience. He’s pushing her thighs open, cold fingers squeezing at the soft flesh of her thighs as he scoots down to be at eye-level with the barest part of her, making sure her calves are hooked over his shoulders. Y/N can’t remember a time when she’s ever been in a more vulnerable position, but instead of shying away like her instincts would have her, she finds herself moving to better accommodate the man between her legs. Her eyes catch his caramel colored ones and her breath catches in her throat; he’s staring at her, enamored by her.

“Such a pretty little thing aren’t ya?” he murmurs, lips forming a gentle kiss on her inner thigh but before she can retort he gives one long, gentle swipe of his tongue directly up the middle of her folds. She gasps, face turned away from him and thighs threatening to close, but he shifts his hand to stop her, holding her in place. “Aht… don’t get shy now, lemme get a taste.”

It’s too much when he dives back in, skilled mouth a vicious match for his insatiable need to please. As he strokes his soft, wet tongue deeper and deeper between her slippery folds that part around him willingly. Y/N’s sure she’s moments away from swearing her undying fealty to whatever higher being put this on her plate for today.  Puckering his lips around her clit after stopping just before sucking on her until it was swollen and even greedier for his attention. Dipping his tongue inside of her hole, humming appreciatively against her and only feeding into the whimpering sounds filtering out of her mouth.

Embarrassingly, Y/N feels that she’s nearing her end - despite the shame of admitting that it's coming too fast, she feels the need to tell him anyway. “Hmph… g’na cum,” she chokes out, hoping that he heard her because all she can hear is the blood rushing in her ears. Every sense is suffocated by Atsumu’s presence, and she’s shameless as she lets every pant slip past her lips, feeding into Atsumu’s ego. “‘m so close, I need it. Need you to – to keep going please, ‘Tsumu”

And he does, gets her to the edge of her high before sliding his mouth away from her. The whine that falls past her lips is deafening, eyes opening and seeing that he’s just nuzzling her thigh, lips making light work at marking the soft flesh. “No, no you said… said you’d help.. Please I’m-” she’s hiccuping, tripping over her words numbly as she tries tugging his head back to where she’s most desperate for him.

He hums at her softly, almost patronizingly, as he places a kiss to the skin closest to his mouth. “Don’t cry pretty girl.. Won’t leave you hanging, ‘ts so warm down ‘ere… might have to stay forever, tha’ okay?” He is disgusting, filthy, so sinfully good. And true to his word, he goes back in without another word, only a small smile and his own hum that vibrates through her lower half. When he takes her clit back between his lips, it’s all she needs. Every tense muscle finally seizing to his maximum strain; it’s like she was a string that’d been stretched too far and finally frayed in the middle, snapping. She can hear her heartbeat thumping like a bass in her ears, can feel the way she’s twitching under Atsumu’s relentless movements, and it drowns out her own noises that she’s making.

Moments later, all that can be heard is her bated breathing, head completely empty and eyes heavy, flickering and fluttering with just how light she feels. Atsumu kisses his way back up to be face-to-face with her, making sure to peck gently at the marks he’d littered her skin with. His face is buried in the base of her throat, their arms tangled around each other lazily - Y/N feels too sleepy to protest the way that he’s pressing all his weight onto her; but isn’t too tired to realize that he’s hard when her hips wiggle to accommodate him between her legs, maybe has been the entire time, which confuses her slightly. Why would he be hard over her? She understands her total arousal over him since she bitched him into submission, but him? If anything, him being hard right now just proves, to Y/N at least, that maybe he would get it up with anything. But what if it is for you, her heart wonders briefly.

“‘Tsumu… are you-?”

“Shh, ‘ts alright. Let's get you to bed.” And he moves to slide off her, moving to guide the two of them to her bed, which was a feat on its own considering Y/N’s legs feel like jelly. All he can do is smile at her, taking in her relaxed face and mused hair. He settles her into bed, sliding up next to her and pulling her onto his chest, lips pressed into the crown of her head.  Before Y/N can even think of a way to say thank you, she feels sleep taking over, choosing instead to just indulge (for once) in the pseudo-domestic situation she’s in tonight.

The following morning, Y/N almost doesn’t want to wake up, isn’t ready to come to terms with whatever happened yesterday. Long gone is the lusty drunkenness from last night, but Atsumu...Atsumu is still fully there, lips pursed and arms shoved under the pillow - Y/N holds back the urge to trace her fingers along the lines of his arm. She russells around, hoping that sleep takes over her again so she can justify waking up wrapped around Atsumu - her attempts are futile though when she feels a firm squeeze at her side, cold fingers making her jump slightly.

“Wha’s wrong?”

She mumbles a barely coherent “nothing,” to which Atsumu just hums, snaking his arm over Y/N’s middle and pulling her towards him, chest to chest with his breath fanning over her face. She swears she could die a happy person now. Wants to have every morning be like this, him in her too small bed, squishing themselves together for warmth, just the sheer proximity is enough, she muses to herself. Apparently, Y/N is thinking just a little too loud this morning for Atsumu’s liking because he sighs softly, asking if she’s sure nothing is wrong.

“Mm ‘m fine. Jus’ tryna get comfortable, go back to sleep.”

“Can’t now, all yer wiggling woke me up” And before she can even retort, he shifts slightly, practically forcing his groin on her thigh, to which she squeaks softly. “Jus go back to sleep… too early for breakfast.”

“Bu- Tsumu.. Lemme..” she starts, shyly. She did have this inherent need to pay him back for what happened, and she can only equate his favor with something equally as...pleasurable?...fulfilling? She can’t find the right word but the most equal compensation for sex has to be more sex, right? The sleep in her bones is fully gone now, her hands sliding down his sides slowly, tentatively. “Please...wanna jus’-”

“Don’t have to, can just go to the rest- sh-shit.” He starts, his own hand reaching to stop hers but his movements stutter when she palms at his crotch, giving his bulge a full on grope. She shushes him softly, lips moving to peck his jaw softly as she snakes her hands past the tight confines of his underwear; and though she can’t see much of what is going on she can feel how thick Atsumu is. His hands have shifted slightly, one arm resting behind her and the other cupping her face, their lips tangled in kisses that feel too sweet and far from platonic.

Moments pass, and it's apparent that Y/N is moving much too slowly for Atsumu, him bucking into her hand and his hips rolling in uncalculated and sloppy movements. He whines softly when she pulls her lips off his, both softly gasping for air, but she shushes him, using the most minimal amount of strength to push him onto his back and settles between his massive thighs. By this point, once fully exposed in front of her, he's so hard that the foreskin is already drawn away from the head, tip slick and wet with precum. She’s gentle, wanting to preserve the quietness that comes with waking up at eight in the morning, as she presses a few open mouth kisses at the patch of hair below his belly button.

And it’s all over from here. Y/N ducked herself down, licking from the dip of his balls to his drippy head in one broad swipe. Y/N shudders softly at the whimper she’s able to pull out of the man above her, thinking that it’s probably the best noise she’d ever elicited from a man. Atsumu runs his fingers through her hair as she slides his head into her mouth, fingers deftly scraping at her scalp as she begins sucking. She sucks him like she wants to – like this was the most perfect way to spend every morning, with her blonde, dumb, stupid best friend stuffing her mouth. Both are still hazy with sleep, but that doesn’t stop Y/N from pulling him in deeper, hollowing her cheeks as she begins bobbing her head and moving her hand in tandem to stroke at what can’t fit in her mouth.

His fingers start to tangle in her hair rather than comb through it, his moans filling the room, punctuated with little encouragements that she hums at around him, like, “Tha’s it, there’s my good girl,” and through shaky laughs, “M'gonna cum if you keep doing that, baby.” Eventually, Y/N knows that he must be near his peak, but she pauses, eyes locking with his caramel colored ones, as she pulls her mouth away to let his length just rest on her tongue.

“Fuck yer pretty… so good aren’t ya?” He whisper-groans at her, gripping her hair a little harder when she tilts her head to the side, allow him to shallowly fuck himself between her lips, his thumb tracing the bulge his dick made in her cheek. “Need'a pull off if y'don’t wanna taste, baby… gettin so- fuck- so close.” He gives her hair a slight tug, like he might actually pull her off himself, but she doesn’t allow him; she just shifts her mouth, making light work of wrapping her lips around his tip, sucking greedily with and humming in protest around him. And it’s that that sends him over, twitching in her mouth as he sputters off shaky profanities before she feels shot after shot of white ropes hitting her tongue. Y/N can’t help but stare at him above her, relishing in the fact that this morning she gets to see him shake and shudder because of her.

Y/N pops off him gently, drawing back and humming at the lingering salty taste he’s left on her tongue. She graces the skin of his heaving abdomen with soft, fluttering kisses as she tucks him back into his underwear, before she crawls up his body, legs swinging to straddle his narrow hips. He’s got an arm thrown over his eyes, neck red and he seems almost bashful underneath her (which makes Y/N’s heart swell with adoration at just how him he is). She wiggles softly, folding her hands on his chest and laying her chin on them, waiting for him to say something to her. She blows a laugh through her nose when he finally looks down at her, eyes glimmering and lips pulled in the shyest smile she thinks she’s ever seen on him.

“You… yer good. Too good… just wow.”

---

Suffice to say lots has happened in the week following the pair quite literally eating their hearts out.

Firstly, Atsumu spent nearly every evening at her apartment that week. He waited every single day outside of her office building - her coworkers have taken to telling her how lucky she is that she has a man waiting for her with this whipped look on her face, but she swears up and down (with warm cheeks) that it's not like that. They eat dinner, alternating between picking up something on the way or cooking together - and by cooking, just picture Atsumu cutting vegetables in uneven chunks while Y/N scolds him for not adding enough water to the rice cooker. Normally this could happen: it's not super rare that they visit each other during the week if it's convenient - what is definitely not in the norm is the fact that Atsumu has buried himself between Y/N’s thighs thrice this week. It starts when Y/N looks too stressed on Tuesday evening, that Atsumu pulls her legs over his lap in an attempt to “massage some of the stress away,” which only leads to him manhandling her onto her back, promising to give her something else to cry about besides work.

Secondly, Osamu thought it would be best to alert Y/N that Atsumu had a very awkward conversation with a woman during lunch on Thursday - it was secretly his way of asking her to ask Atsumu what happened because both Y/N and Osamu were terrible gossips who feed off each other. When Y/N asked though, all Atsumu said was that the whole conversation didn’t matter, that the woman (who Y/N learned was actually Michimiya) wanted more than Atsumu was able to give to her. That their lives weren’t in sync or whatever, that they’d eventually manage to be co-workers at best. To say that Y/N wasn’t elated at the news would be a bold-faced lie.

Y/N feels on cloud nine, feels like she doesn’t even need to have a conversation with Atsumu about what their situation is currently. She gets to reap all the benefits of a relationship now, she’s physically taken care of and emotionally spoiled. Only thing she’s actually missing is the title but what's in a word, right?Atsumu wasn’t a natural flirt, always hid compliments behind a harsh delivery - but lately he’s taken to drowning Y/N in compliments, even the corny ones. Y/N expected a post-nut “god yer pretty,” but what occasionally caught her off was when he would open the door for her (normal) and say that “a pretty gal like you should never hafta touch a handle” (not normal). Subconsciously, Y/N feels like he’s only trying to compliment his way into her pants, but she chooses to ignore the way he coos at “just how gorgeous her eyes are” when he makes eye contact with her during a midnight snack.

On the second Thursday following the start of the Y/N-Astumu situationship, Y/N has no choice really other than to ask Atsumu what’s going on with them. They’re at the grocery store by his place (he’d convinced her to take the following day off work and spend the night with him), everything is more than normal when the pair’s conversation gets interrupted by a literal model-esque person, touching Atsumu’s shoulder. Y/N tries to sneak her hand from his arm, but he grasps her hand before she can get too far, looking at the stranger with a less-than-friendly expression.

“Oh Miya! I’m a huge fan, would you mind taking a photo with me?” He indulges his fan, never letting go of Y/N’s hand, even as she steps out of the camera’s focus. The stranger parts with a grateful smile to both Atsumu and Y/N, which feels unnecessary, but Y/N returns anyway. The friends continue their shopping trip before making the trek to Atsumu’s apartment building. Y/N is quiet, in her head about the whole fan interaction that lasted a total of five minutes, but Atsumu says nothing - even stays quiet until the pair are up in his apartment.

“Everything okay? Not bored of me are ya?”

She smiles weakly at him, settling to rest against his kitchen counter. “It’s just… I- nevermind it’s stupid.” She shakes her head, hand waving in front of her as if trying to shoo away the negative cloud above her head. But Atsumu quickly grabs her hand, pulling her into the space between his arms.

“It’s not stupid if ‘s how yer feeling.. What’s up?”

“Okay…” She starts, pushing away from his chest to give herself some literal and mental space. He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back at the opposite counter to Y/N, who's mirroring his stance except her head is thrown back, eyes searching his ceiling for the right words to come next. “Are you always like… this… with the girls who give you head?” When she looks at him, his head is tilted to the left in confusion, making her huff anxiously. “Okaaay.. you’ve complimented me more in the past three weeks than any other person has in my entire life… is that normal for you to do with the girls hooking up with you or am I the exception? It’s not a big deal.. It’s just that you -”

“I compliment you because you deserve to be complimented, sweetheart… but if it makes you uncomfortable then I can stop.” He cuts in, before he uncrosses his arms, palms gripping at the counter behind him. “As for the whole hooking up part… is that what you want this to be? ‘Cos we can do that, up to you Y/N, I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give -”

“But why? Until three weeks ago I was under the impression that I wasn’t your ‘type’ or whatever so why now are you suddenly on board with taking whatever I give you?”

He laughs, and Y/N wants to cry. Why wasn’t he taking this seriously? Y/N is good at feeling her feelings, but has a hard time clearly expressing those feelings into words.

“Don’t laugh a-”

“Who told you what my type was? If it was ‘Samu or Omi I swear I’ll -”

“You did. You said I wasn’t your type.” He balks, eyes wide and riddled with trying to think about when he said it. “It was forever ago, but you said it. You came back from Germany, I picked you up and ‘Samu had called while I went to the restroom and well.. I overheard you say-”

“Yer an idiot, made an assumption before ya knew the whole truth, baby. I was talking about this photographer that I was kinda seein’ at the time. M’brother asked why if she’d get mad that I chose to see you fresh off the plane instead of her, said it didn’t matter because she wasn’t my type.”

Y/N wishes that the floor of his ridiculously priced apartment would swallow her whole, or that if she pushed the right buttons on his fancy microwave she’d be able to rewind life to five minutes ago when she decided to start this conversation. Frankly, she feels silly and like she shouldn’t say anything else - she knows that her words conveyed a little bit of insecurity that she’s sure Atsumu doesn’t want to have to deal with.

A beat passes before both Y/N and Atsumu open their mouths, but he’s able to get out the words first. “You really thought that you weren’t my type?” Fuck his smug little desbelieving smile.

“Don’t gimme that look - you’re usually spotted around the globe with gorgeous people… ‘s it really wrong of me to assume that I wasn’t your type? Besides,” she starts, arms crossed around her middle while Atsumu takes a tentative step to close the gap between them. “It's not that it matters now since, y’know I know that it's not true.. Just hurt my feelings at the time and well…”

“You were supposed to be the smart one between us, got the college degree ‘n everythin.” He teases, arms reaching to rest on her waist. “For someone so smart you really missed all the signs huh? Why do you think I stepped in every time some guy tried to talk t’ya? Why d’ya think that I tried to take up all your weekend time, don’t get me wrong I love spendin’ time with ya but also didn’t wanna see you goin out with any guys you’d met when I wasn’t around.” By this point he’s got her chin in his hand, ducking his head slightly to make her look at him fully. “And why the hell would I eat you out at every possible opportunity once I’ve been given the okay? Just because I get thrown it all the time by others doesn’t mean that I eat out every -”

“Alright, alright. You can shut up now. I get it, I’m dumb. I just didn’t think -”

“Oh you got tha’ right - didn’t think at all did ya?” She groans, throwing her head back. She’ll never be able to get the image of his smug face out of her head, never going to be able to live down how for once in their years long friendship Atsumu was smarter than her. All he can do though is laugh, pulling her face back down to his and giving her forehead a soft kiss, making her stomach erupt with flutters.

“If you tell anyone about this conversation, I swear to god Miya I’ll-”

“Shh it’s always gotta be a threat with you huh? Why can’t you just admit that you were stupid for once?”

“Not happening.”

“Not even if it means you’re stupidly in like with me”

“No, because I’m not stupidly in like with you… I just adore your stupid self more than I’d ever admit in front of anyone else.”

He laughs, bumping his nose against her with a laugh before kissing her softly. Everything is great, life is great. Y/N loves Atsumu and Atsumu loves her, and she isn’t some sad, movie cliché any longer. She’s got this gorgeous guy who practically worships her, so freely giving himself to her. He pulls away from kissing her for a second, taking a moment to appreciate the way that her eyes are closed happily.

“Just so y’know… I adore you too.” Kiss. “But you are never allowed to call me stupid again… from now on I’m the smart one in this relationship.”

A/N pt2: and so that’s it hehe. thank you sm for reading I hope you enjoyed it. any little comments you have in the tags would be nice to read or yeah. this is my side blog so like hgjdgsh if I respond to you it’s gonna be from my main haha

[sparkbeast20]

You’re my Treasure (Mammon X MC) Pt11

The Blue Lotus petals (series)

As a fan of Beauty X Beast pairing, Showing your “true self” to Lover or (Monster Love) Tropes. I figure to make a (More Demonic Forms AU/head canon) story for each brothers. Heads up each brother’s Story is long as fuck. So, I’ll be posting them as parts and finishing one brother before moving on to the rest of them.

(spoiler for lesson 1-60)

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3 Pt4 Pt5 Pt6 Pt7 Pt8 Pt9 Pt10

Warning: Swearing, Demonic nature, Mention of blood, Past events, Unwanted hate towards a family member, and Attempted murder.

Note: I am really bad at warning.

Previously

The sound of coins being step on quietly filled the cavern, as someone pick up the old book on the ground and return back to sleep.

“So, you don’t want to control my body?” Mammon asks the beast reflected in the lake.

No....I have seen how your brothers treated you, and frankly I think you should fight back!

Mammon pouts at him, not likely the way his saying this.

“Hey! They might be a pain in the ass, but that all family are. Sure, we are at each other’s throats, but we have each others back when we need the most.” The beast huffs at that.

Name one time, you all agree to do something!

“The reaper’s cave”

Hm?

“We might not say it out loud, but we truly wanted to help Beel in anyway possible. Hell, it was a miracle that y/n was there. If was for them giving some of their candle to Beel, we would have made it a regular thing to go back to that cave for Beel.” He starts playing around with his ring, to distract himself from missing his brothers.

It seems that the human choice you out of your brothers why is that?

“y/n is not just a human! And why would you care if y/n choose me?”

I don’t know Mammon, why least you been repeating it in your head over and over causing me to wake up!

Suddenly Mammon felt a lump in his throat, he wants to respond but hesitant for a moment, then he spat it out.

“I haven’t done any of that”

Really? Let me refresh your memories

The last part the beast voice changes into his voice as he starts talking into it.

“I failed as protector and a guardian!” “They deserve better than me!” “Why they have to choose me to love” “Why settle with a weak and pathetic demon like me” “I SHOULDN’T BE SECOND OF THE AVATARS!?!”

Half way of the beast speech Mammon covered his ears, shut his eyes, and grinned his teeth with a snarl coming out of him. But he just keeps repeating his thoughts over his mind. Until Mammon scream.

“OKAY I GET IT!” he drops down it all fours as pant like he was exhausted. “I-I can’t be the demon they all want me to be”

Because you keep letting them to fill your mind with those thoughts, but what you should be doing is SHOW THEM!

Mammon looks back to the lake and asks “What do you mean?”

Kill The demon who attack our mate

“I can’t do that; the bastard knows and what I can do. Even if want to kill him, he’ll just move one location to the other”

Not unless you change into me…...

“I can’t…...” Mammon clenches his hands, digging his talons into his palms drawing blood as his body to tremble in the thought of changing back to that form the memories flood back in his mind, all the fights, the wounds which heals but the mental scars remain, and watching Levi and Asmo change right Infront of him. Their scream of agony rings in his ear as tears and blood drip down in to the ground as he starts to sob.

Are you scare after killing Basto, you’ll go and killing your brother while they’re in those forms?

Mammon quickly nods while his looking down at his bleeding hands.

You don’t have to worry about that

The beast spoke with a softer tone causing Mammon to look back at the lake.

“Wh?”

Look you and I are the same being, when I tell you that all you have to do is stay away from them for a week or two, to have better control over yourself and your instinct you might be the first one out of the seven of you to able to turn into your demonic form without the resist of killing your brothers.

Mammon is done founded about the beast just said.

“How are you sure that I can do that?”

Simple you and Asmo are the only ones that didn’t attack y/n when you get angry and threaten them. And you are the only one who never use violence against them by changing into your demon form. You might be a hothead but you never or will raise a hand to your brothers or to our mate.

Mammon is left speechless, the thing that he been scare of knows him well to the point of trusting him for being himself. He was right as much he hates being the first one to be targeting with name calling because of his sin, is not like his the only one, Asmo calling him a horn dog, Levi with his weird obsession with things and getting emotional, Beel with eating all the time, Belphie with out of nowhere naps and sleeps, Satan with his anger issues, and Lucifer being too proud for his own good.

Their demons now, is something they should be use to. But him have the most control out of the seven of them, makes him fill warm inside. That he should be proud of, and why he should let his brothers tell him that he has no self-control when anger.

But his sin oh yeah! He can’t argue with that, I mean he was willing to help Solomon to forge a pact with Lucifer for the Midas crest, and immediately takes all back when Asmo points out that once he gets the crest, he won’t able to touch you due to the crest make everything he touch turns into gold. It had to take Asmo to point it out, who just said it to openly admit that it will be less competition for him. To realize that he could have made one of his biggest mistakes of his life, for what gold!

Looking back at his hands and/or talons then his wings, looks back at his newly grown tail. It too late, he’s far along of the transformation as he his. If he agrees with the beast’s plan, its going to take some time, means that you need to go back.

“Hey, before I agree to yer plan, let me take y/n back to my brothers”

Mammon…. their better with us then back with your brothers

“Yer crazy!?! What if I kill them!”

MAMMON The last thing we want is our MATE DYING. AGAIN! I’m still a little mad at Sloth for what he did! He’s luckily that y/n forgave him, because if they didn’t rest assure, I would’ve wakened up that day!

Mammon flinch and snarl at just remember that day. Holding your past self in his arms as you choke on your blood causing Belphie. If he’s being honest with himself, sometimes he gets piss off whenever Belphie took a nap at your lap and asks pat his head like, he didn’t try to kill you long ago.

That reflex he just did, get angry when you get hurt or someone trying to hurt you. Maybe his beast does have a point.

“Okay, I’ll do it……I’ll-I’ll change, IF!! You make sure that y/n safety is my-our one goal! Go it!”

Even with a beak the beast smirk at Mammon

You have my word…… also you might feel A LOT of pain!

“Huh?...... Wh?”

Before Mammon can say anything else, he felt a pain in his abdomen, he wants to scream but he bites his lips muffling the scream. As he dug his talons into the ground dragging his hands closer to him. Then the pain slowly got worst by each heart beat and panting.

Soon the he couldn’t take it anymore and let out an agnosies scream.

Then a faith voice calls out to him.

“……Mammon…...”

“Mammon!”

Mammon wakes up from the dream by someone grooming his tail, he slowly opens his eyes and lifted up his head and let out a wake-up yawn. And turn his head to whoever is touching his tail.

His eyes narrows and he groans at the sight who it was.

“Morning Mammon, have a good night sleep” Asmo flash he cheerful smile as he fixes the feathers of his tail. “When is the last time you check your tail feathers, look at them some of them are uneven and others stuck together see….” He points at feathers with the vane split apart with dry blood.

“Oi! I didn’t have a chance to clean myself and beside y/n usually brushes and cleans my feathers so, back off” Mammon squawks at Asmo who just giggle at him.

Right, no one can hear him, well no one expect Lucifer who is close to what he is now. He just has to have you use gestures and his eyes to convey what he’s thinking.

“What a pain in the ass, ya all don’t listen to me when I was normal. Now I have to deal with this crap!?! Tch whatever, the herd must be at the lake at this time. Might as well get some food……. Oh shit! Beel’s here…. Great……”

“I know that you’re not a morning demon, so I know that your cranky. But maybe not try to be loud so you won’t wake up y/n” that snap Mammon out of his train of thought.

Surprise to what Asmo said, Mammon looked down in his arms to see your sleeping form curled up next to his chest as you nuzzle your cheek into in with a smile on your face.

He faces softens as gently rub your face with his, as a soothing cooing and purring comes off from him, causing you to let out a satisfying hum as you fall more asleep.

Then Mammon reaches out with beak for a thick fabric from the nest. Then he slowly and gently lay you on the nest and place the fabric under your head serving as a pillow as you continue to sleep.

Then he stood up leave the nest as Asmo let go of his tail and gazing at his brother’s action. Once out of the nest Mammon stretches bending down then stand back straight shake body ruffle his feathers and once finish the feathers fixes themselves as Mammon being his daily routine beginning with leaving the cave. And Asmo got up and follow his big brother.

“I-I don’t believe it. There’s no SIGNAL HERE!!!” Levi is basically reaching for the havens on top of the tree trying to get a signal for his D.D.D, but to no avail.

“Levi! Get down from there” Lucifer yells at Levi causing to flinch almost letting of the branch he was holding to keep himself balance.

From afar Satan and Belphie watches the two older brothers, with Beel who is cook breakfast inside the cave.

“Its just me or is Lucifer losing~”

“His cool? Yes, I’m all for it” Satan is gleefully smile at the sight of Lucifer completely abandoning all of his calmed and serious demeanor, for an anger, short tempered and animalistic one.

Then suddenly they heard talons being drag through rock behind them, they turn around to see Mammon walking out from the cavern and heading outside with Asmo not far behind him.

“Mammon, your awake you got to see this Lucifer is blowing a casket at Levi~” Mammon just keep on walking out ignoring Satan.

“Wait where you going? Breakfast is about to start” Beel got up from he sits next to the campfire and chase after Mammon.

Once outside, flap his wings and start flying, grabbing the attention of Lucifer and Levi.

“MAMMON!?!” Lucifer calls out to him, as he flew after him grabbing Levi’s arm towing along.

As Levi scream for help fade, Satan look at Asmo with a questionable look on his face.

“What did you do”

“Hey! Don’t look at me like that. I was just cleaning the feathers in his tail; I mean you saw him covered in blood of that bastard. You would have done the same thing” Asmo huffs and walk back inside.

“Oh, before you go, Lucifer was looking for the book that he used. Have you seen it?” but Asmo shook his head, not even looking at Satan as he went in to Help Beel with breakfast.

“Clearly one of us is lying about the book” Belphie said it looking at Satan.

“Obviously, but the question is who is lying”