#that's exactly when you start to get yourself in real trouble
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harrywavycurly · 2 days ago
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Loving a Killer: Mistakes in a Hardware Store
Pairing: Killer!Harry x wife!reader
Masterlist: Here
CW: Harry is a tad bit over protective in this, threats of violence, semi angsty bits, language.
A/N: Harry had done something wrong and shockingly enough it has nothing to do with what he does for a living, so enjoy him trying to get you to forgive him✨
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“Looking at it every five seconds isn’t going to make it magically start ringing you know that right?” Harry just ignores Mitch’s comment as he looks at his phone for the sixth time in the last five minutes, letting out a sigh when he all he’s met with is the date and time on his Lock Screen, no message from you or your name flashing across it like it normally does when you call him. “Trouble in paradise?” Mitch asks as he looks over and watches Harry run a hand through his hair as he tosses his phone onto his desk.
“She’s not talking to me.” Is all he says before he stands up and begins pacing the length of his desk while Mitch spins his chair around so his back is facing his own desk allowing him to watch his bestfriend have what he could only describe as a breakdown of some sort due to not having heard from you all day. Harry pauses and runs a hand over his face then just looks at Mitch over his shoulder. “I think she’s mad-”
“What did you do?” Harry lets out a groan as he walks over to his desk and places his hands flat on top of it and Mitch raises a brow at him when he notices him look down and close his eyes while letting out a deep sigh. “Harry tell me you didn’t-”
“You’ve got to stop assuming I’m walking around killing people without telling you.” Harry jokes as he lifts his head to send Mitch a glare. “I didn’t even really put my hands on anyone this time.” He explains making his friend just roll his eyes as he crosses his arms over his chest.
“Then what exactly did you do?”
“She went with me to get some stuff so I can fix the shed door in the backyard and while we were at the hardware store some dude came up to her and started chatting her up so I might’ve threatened him a little.”
“You’re such a hot head man you need to relax and realize your wife is a catch so dudes are going to want to try to flirt with her.”
“What the hell did you just say?” Mitch doesn’t even flinch at how harsh Harry’s tone is as he straightens himself up and takes a step towards him with a quirked brow, Mitch is extremely familiar to this side of his bestfriend. “I’m just supposed to let people flirt with her and think they have some sort of shot with her?”
“They’ll know they don’t have a shot with her because she’ll let them know. She doesn’t need you to do it.” Mitch casually explains as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world but Harry just lets out a scoff and throws his hands up in air, clearly annoyed at the idea of having his wife be the one to tell creeps to leave her alone.
“She shouldn’t have to worry about telling wanks who want to chat her up to fuck off.” He snaps while he walks back over to his desk to reach for his phone. “I’m her husband it’s my job to do that for her.” Mitch rolls his eyes at his explanation as he watches Harry tap away on his phone.
“No it’s your job to trust her and let her handle herself in situations like that.” Harry can’t help but feel his heart sink as Mitch’s words hit him, he knows he can be a tad bit overprotective when it comes to you and that often leads to him overreacting in certain situations but he’s never thought about how him reacting the way that he does could make you feel as if he doesn’t trust you or think you can’t handle yourself.
“I do trust her.” Mitch just nods as he uncrosses his arms so he can stand up from his chair. “I just-you know how I am with her.” He says with a sigh as Mitch takes a step towards him so he can place a hand on his shoulder.
“I know how you are with her and I know it’s because you love her but sometimes it’s a little much. But the real question is how are you gonna fix this?” Mitch asks as he gives Harry’s shoulder a squeeze before letting it go. “I hear flowers work wonders.” He suggests making Harry send him a glare making Mitch chuckle because sometimes it’s glaringly obvious how single Mitch is compared to Harry.
“Already had a bouquet delivered to her office this morning since she only works a half day today.” He mumbles and Mitch just gives him a nod of approval as he watches Harry tap a few things on his phone before he locks it and slides into his back pocket. “I have to go. You good to handle the rest of the day without me?” Harry questions making Mitch just brush him off as he turns to head back towards his desk.
“Yeah I’m fine we have that Gavin guy tomorrow and today is just paperwork.” Harry just nods at Mitch’s answer before he gathers his keys and tosses his work bag over his shoulder. “Good luck.” Mitch says with a smile as Harry gives him one more glance before turning and heading out their shared office door and down the hallway for the door that opens to the stairs leading up to the lobby of the building the two of them work at.
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Harry hates the feeling he gets when he walks inside the front door, he’s not met with the usual warmth that always radiates off of you and seeps into his body and relaxes him as it makes its way from his tired feet all the way up to his sore shoulders. Today he’s met with silence and the utter coldness that comes with it and it’s almost enough to send a shiver down his spine, but the only thing that keeps him from turning around and leaving is that he knows you’re home because he parked next to your car in the driveway and he is willing to do anything get your warmth back into the house.
He knows where you’re at, it’s just something that he can’t help with what he does for a living he knows how to keep track of people when they’re in relatively close proximity to him. So as soon as he walked in the front door he could see your foot hanging off the love seat tucked away in the corner of the living room near the bookshelf next to the floor lamp that you opted to turn on instead of the main light. He acts as if he didn’t see you as he drops his keys in the bowl by the door and slips his shoes off before he makes his way into the kitchen where he places his work bag on the table, he can feel your eyes on him from the living room and he takes that as a decent sign that you’re even wanting to look at him.
He runs a hand through his hair as he contemplates his next move, he knows you don’t like confrontation so you won’t be the one to tell him you’re mad at him so if he wants this to get resolved in a timely manner he’s going to need to be the one to initiate the conversation but he’s just not in a hurry to hear you say you’re upset with him. So Harry does what he thinks is the best thing to do in the moment because he knows you, he knows what you really need from him in this moment and he’s more than willing to give it to you if it spares him, at least for a few minutes from having to hear you tell him how unhappy he made you the other day. He turns around and quietly heads into the living room, he watches as you close the book he knows you stopped reading the moment he walked through the front door and place it on the side table near the lamp. As soon as he’s in front of you he reaches down and grabs your hands as he drops to his knees, he looks at you as he brings your hands to his lips and places sweet kisses to your knuckles and he doesn’t miss the slight shade of pink your cheeks get at his actions.
“I’m sorry baby.” He makes sure his words come out nice and clear so you don’t miss them between little pecks to your knuckles. “I know I made you upset yesterday and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have threatened him or-”
“We’ve had this conversation before haven’t we Harry?” You ask making Harry just swallow before nodding his head and he swears he feels his heart drop to his stomach when you turn and look away from him. “I know you want to protect me from all the creeps and jerks but Harry yesterday you-”
“Don’t say it.” He cuts you off as he lets your hands slip out of his as he stands up. “Please don’t say it.” His voice is low as he takes a small step away from you as he feels as if his world might be crumbling down around him as the thought of you telling him you were afraid of him bounces around in his head.
“Harry look at me.” He can’t help himself as he does what you ask because even though his whole world may feel like it’s on the verge of falling apart he’s still your husband, the man who hasn’t ever really been able to not do whatever it is you ask of him. “I’m not afraid of you.” He feels your hands on his arms slowly running up until they are cupping the sides of his face making sure he can’t look away from you. Your words take a moment to sink in through the layers of sheer panic and anxiety running through his mind but when they finally do Harry lets out a deep breath and feels as if his legs could give out at any moment with the amount of relief that washes over him.
“I was going to say that in that moment you were being one of the jerks you try to protect me from all the time.” All Harry can do is just nod because you’re right, he was being exactly the type of person he tries to keep you away from and honestly Harry is still recovering from the fact you admitted you aren’t afraid of him so a nod is the best he can do in the moment. “You threatened someone’s life all because he was asking me if I had any recommendations for a good weather resistant wood varnish.” When Harry rolls his eyes he instantly knows it’s a mistake because he feels your hands drop from his face making his lips turn downward into a slight frown while you take a few steps away from him.
“I’m sorry sweetheart but that was clearly a line and he was trying to flirt-”
“So him flirting with me means you need to come in and grab him by his shirt and tell him that if he so much as looks at me again the next project you’ll be working on will be his coffin?” Harry can count on one hand the amount of times you’ve raised your voice since he’s met you, each time has almost always been towards him and he hates that he’s the one who gets you to the point where you lose your ability to speak in your usual soft and gentle tone and are left with no choice but to make your voice louder and a little meaner in hopes it’ll help get your point across more clearly.
“I didn’t mean to grab him. That was a mistake.” He doesn’t make an attempt to get closer to you even though every part of him wants to reach out and pull you into him, he wants to give you the space you need to tell him exactly how his actions made you feel and he knows you won’t be able to do that if he crowds you. And as much as he normally loves to play dirty and use his knowledge against you, this time he wants you to get everything out because he wants to be better for you so if he has to stand here and take it for a few more minutes then so be it.
“Was that the only mistake you made yesterday?” He wants to say he really didn’t make any mistakes yesterday but he doesn’t, he just rubs his lips together as you place a hand on your hip letting him in on the fact you’re getting annoyed at this conversation.
“Please just answer me because I don’t want to argue with you anymore but I need to know if you really think that’s the only mistake you made yesterday.” Harry can tell by the slight pleading tone of your voice that you’re beginning to break, your walls of anger are starting to crumble and he can’t help himself but feel a small sense of relief because he can work with this, he can find a way to make your walls come down and get you to forgive him.
“No.” He answers as he takes a small cautious step towards you making you raise an eyebrow at him as a signal to have him elaborate on his answer. “I shouldn’t have threatened him or raised my voice in the store because I know how you feel about causing scenes in public.” He adds as he takes another small step towards you and he can’t help the small smirk that forms on his face when he sees your hand drop from your hip as you playfully roll your eyes at the mention of causing a scene.
“Anything else?” Your voice is much softer now and Harry feels like this is a good time to take a chance so he reaches an arm out so he can place a hand on your hip and he smiles when you don’t make any moves to wiggle out of his grasp or bring your own hand down to push his away.
“Letting you give me the silent treatment for the rest of the day. That’s probably the biggest mistake I made because you know how much I love hearing you talk.” Now normally you’d take that as a tease of some sort but Harry’s not an idiot, or at least not in this moment so he’s sure to sound as serious as possible without ruining the lighthearted mood that’s beginning to form between the two of you.
“You love hearing me talk?” Harry just gives you a smile as he ever so gently pulls you closer to him by his hold on your hip.
“Your voice is one of my favorite sounds.” He admits without a single drop of hesitation because it’s the truth. “Especially right before you fall asleep and it’s this mixture of a whisper and just mumbles of nonsense.” His eyes stare into yours as he raises his free hand so he can brush a few strands of hair out of your face and back behind your ear. “But my favorite is when it’s got this hint of excitement to it like when you’re telling me about a new book you found that you’re now obsessed with or better yet the rants you go on about books you hate those are very fun and your voice gets this almost twinge of absolute disgust to it that I always find entertaining because it’s so rare you find something you don’t like.” He keeps his hand on the side of your face cupping your jaw, gently running his thumb over your cheek.
“So really baby it about killed me not getting to hear your voice for a whole day all because I was an asshole and couldn’t handle some guy flirting with you in a Home Depot.” He wants to pull your face towards his and seal his words with a kiss but he doesn’t, he’s a gentleman after all and knows it’s only right to let you decide when he’s earned his kissing privileges back sees as you just broke the day long silent treatment you were giving him not even five minutes ago.
“His name was Brad.” Harry’s grip on your hip tightens a little while he other hand falls from your face as you give him an unwanted detail of your encounter yesterday. “Maybe if you knew that before you went all crazy on him you would’ve reconsidered? Because who’s going to pick some dude named Brad over their hot husband named Harry?” He just chuckles as you give him a playful smirk while reaching your hands up to grab both sides of his face.
“Well when you put it like that.” He jokes as he feels you begin to pull his face down towards yours. “I really am sorry sweetheart I swear it won’t happen again.” He whispers as he bumps the tip of his nose into yours making you smile.
“I know you are and that’s why I forgive you.” That’s all Harry needs to hear before he allows himself to close the gap between his lips and yours, he feels you smile against his lips as you pull him even closer to you when you feel him try to pull away.
“I love you.” He mumbles between kisses making you giggle as your hands go from his face down to his chest so you can grip onto his shirt while his hand holds onto the back of your neck.
In this moment Harry knows that the two of you are going to be okay, that while you may hate how he over reacts and gets a little too protective at times, you still love him and haven’t decided to give up on him or at least not yet. So Harry decides right then and there that he’s going to actually try to be better, but while he really will try he can’t promise he won’t mess up every now and then because he’s still Harry, and when it comes to you he doesn’t think he’ll ever be okay with people getting too close or being too friendly.
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callumsturn · 7 months ago
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Sweet John
Summary: John keeps finding ways to stop by the hospital to see you, until he finally gets what he wants.
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Pairing: Major John "Bucky" Egan x female reader Content/Warnings: John Egan being a charming bastard, 18+ smut (minors don't interact), unprotected sex. This starts real innocent, but it's really not. Notes: If you have any requests you’d like me to write please let me know! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you!
As you're helping wounded soldiers, rushing through the corridors of the campaign hospital at base, you bump into none other than Major John "Bucky" Egan.
You look up to see his smug smile. "Sorry, sweetheart." His hand gently over your arm as a way to balance you.
If you didn't know better, you'd even believe he might have done it unintentionally.
"It's alright Major." You tried to rush past him, with towels in both your arms to the end of the corridor.
"You shouldn't carry all that yourself." He takes half of the load from your arms. "Let me help. It's the least I could do."
He carries on up the corridor, following close behind you. You turn your head to him for a few seconds. You know you should be resisting. But he's very, very persuasive. Even when his uniform is covered with blood.
"You have blood on your uniform." You simply state.
"Oh, yeah." He shrugs, not bothered to wipe it off. "You know how it is." he tells you "Can't even breathe at battle without getting some blood splashed on you." He looks at you. "You've got some on you as well."
You look down at your own white uniform. "It has seen better days, yes." You continue to walk to the end of the corridor, entering one of the patient rooms.
John follows after you and looks around as soon as you're inside. "Oh, you're taking these to..." he trails off a bit as he sees who's laying in that bed. One of the men from his squad.
"Hi Sergeant. How are we feeling?" You spoke to the man resting on the bed.
The Sergeant looks up at you. "I've been better." As soon as he sees the Major behind you he tries to sit up, still a bit shaky. "Major." he says, his voice hoarse.
"I'm gonna clean that open wound and switch it up, is that alright?" you asked the man in the bed.
"Thank you, miss." he adds as you begin to gather your tools.
You can feel the Major's gaze on the back of your head as he watches from the doorway.
"It's gonna hurt a little. Take this." You hand the patient a bottle of alcohol to drink.
He takes it, grunting a little from the pain of just moving. He takes a sip and sets the bottle down. As you pour liquid over the wound to clean it, the Sergeant's leg moves in pain. He grunts loudly and moves in his bed. You feel the Major aproach the bed and hold the Sergeant with no trouble. He tries to move again but the Major's grip is firm.
"It's alright. Just hold still now." Major Egan tries to calm the man. You see the compassion and concern on his face. His hand is still on the Sergeant's lower body, ready to steady him again if necessary.
You say nothing, continuing to clean the wound and prepare the needle to stitch. The Major remains close. He watches you work, and his focus is almost entirely on exactly that. The Sergeant squirms in the bed again, but the Major remains in place.
"Easy." the Major tried to calm him down.
"Almost done, Sergeant." you mention as you finish stitching him up.
"Th- thank you." The Sergeant glances toward the Major. "She's real good, I'm telim' ya, sir."
You chuckle as you begin bandaging his wound. "Now... you shouldn't get up. Just try to rest and no missions for a few days. This needs to heal properly."
"Roger that, nurse." the Sergeant replies with a smile. "Will do." he finishes. "Could I get some more of that bottle, though? You know how it is."
You smile as you hand him the bottle for the second time. He takes another sip, as you hear Major Egan chuckle, keeping his eyes on the man and then on you as you put the remainder of the supplies away in a near medical cart, back turned to both men.
"She's pretty, ain't she, sir?" the Sergeant asks his Major who's sitting beside him still, in a lower voice.
As you barely hear the Sergeants comment, you tried to pay no attention to it, not curious to hear the Major's response.
You hear the Major chuckle again. "She is. I'm sure she's even got herself a fella already. Some lucky bastard."
"Probably some high rank fella, too." the Sergeant continues jokingly.
"Not a high enough rank for that, no." You barely hear Major John say.
As you finish storing all utensils, you approach both men again. "You rest up Sergeant. I'll tend to other soldiers now."
The man thanks you, as he rests his head back on the pillow and closes his eyes. The Major still has his gaze on you as you walk past him.
You continue to go about your shift, working on other patients in other beds. You do your best to ignore the Major's gaze when he is watching you from afar.
"Am I under some kind of evaluation, Major?" You asked unfazed, not looking at him, but still tending to a patient.
Somewhat caught off guard by the question, the Major's calm demeanour slips a bit. "Uh... no. I was-" he clears his throat "Just... checking up on... on your patient care."
"On my patient care?" You chuckled. "How's that going then?"
"It's going very well." he replies a little too quickly.
"Well I'm glad." You paused. "Thank you for the help back there."
"Any time." he replies. You see that he wants to say something else, but stops himself. "You've got everything under control in here then?"
"Sure thing."
"Great." He clears his throat again. "I'm..." He's having trouble finding the right words. "I'll let you get back to work then."
"Thank you, Major."
"Yeah. Sure, no problem." He finally leaves the room. You don't see him again for a while, but notice his eyes on you several times over the rest of the week or so.
A few weeks passed and the hospital became less busy. Patients were recovering and the missions were being successful over all. You notice the change. It's more peaceful, which is just what both you and the soldiers needed.
But there is one thing that has changed your routine. Major John "Bucky" Egan has been coming by to see you more often. And each time he does, he stays a little longer and talks a little more. He always makes sure to pay careful attention to everything you say, and always makes an effort to keep the conversation going. You can feel the other nurses and doctors giving you disguised looks, wondering if there's something going on with the two of you.
The Major even shows up when you're not working, and seems to hang around to see when you start your shift or finish for the day. He's always just hanging back, not being too obvious about it. You found it quite charming actually, the effort he would go into just to talk to you for a little while. It was definitely flattering. He's a handsome man, and he's got a certain charm and confidence about him that you can't help but like. Although you're still unsure how to feel about all of the attention, and that uncertainty definitely shows on your face as he approaches you yet again, and starts up another conversation.
"Major Egan." You say after he approaches you.
"Nurse." he replies with a polite smile. He's carrying a coffee mug and offerts it to you. "I figured you might be tired after your shift."
You gladly accepted it. "That's incredibly thoughtful of you."
"I try." he shrugs his shoulders with a smile. You can see his gaze still on you as you take the mug. For a little while he doesn't say a thing, just watching you as you take a small sip from the cup.
Suddenly, he clears his throat a little and speaks again. "I was wondering... there's a cafe outside the base... I though it'd be nice to go there and get something to eat." he says. He's still looking you straight in the eyes while saying it, his body relaxed and his hand resting casually on the mug. "Would you like to join me?" he adds after a moment.
"Right now?" you ask calmly.
He nods after a moment. "If you'd like." he responds. "We could both do with getting some real food. Maybe something more comforting than camp rations." He gives you a small smile, still watching you carefully as he waits for your answer.
You smiled at him for a second. "I'd like that."
His smile grows a little wider. "Great." He starts to back away. "I'll... I'll head out there now." he says "I'll be waiting just outside. The cafe's not far."
"I'll be right there." you smile.
He gives you one more little smile before making his way outside and waiting just out front of the camp, leaning agaisnt the wall and looking out the gate.
You head to the locker room where you find a colleague. You head inside to change out of your work clothes.
"Hey there." she grins "how have things been with you?"
"Good." you smile.
"Major's been going around again today, hasn't he?", she asks, glancing over at you.
"Um... yeah, he has." you continue to change into your clothes.
"Yeah, I figured as much. He coming around more often now? Spending more time talking to you?"
You chuckle, embarrassed. "I guess, yes."
"Well, I figured he had a thing for you" she laughs. "It was only a matter of time before he started getting a little flirtatious. He's not very good at hiding it."
"I think he's just being nice." you said as you buttoned your shirt.
"Sweetie, he's more than just nice. Major Egan has a reputation aroud here, you know. He doesn't go around being sweet to just anyone."
"Well, I don't know. I don't want everyone to go around and talk about this. The other nurses are real nosy!"
"Oh cm'on, don't worry. They'll just tease you a bit if they can tell that something's going on. And besides, nothing exciting happens around the hospital, so they cling to anything." she paused "But you're lucky. The Major's a looker, and I'm sure that you wouldn't mind his attentions, huh?" She gives you a playful nudge as she asks.
You chuckle as you looked at her. "He really is a looker isn't he?"
"Hell yeah he is." she laughs "A real man after my own heart. And the more things continue like this between you guys, the more certain I am that you might be the lady that gets to keep him to herself."
"Well, I don't know about that."
"Oh, come on. Just look at him. Just waiting right outside for you."
"Alright now. Enough of this." you said as you put your coat on. "I'm heading out."
"I'll see you back here later." she chuckles as you head out.
You find Major Egan just where he said he'd be. As you pass him and make your way to the gates outside, he starts walking with you, keeping his hands in his pockets.
"That's your work done for the day?" he asks casually.
"I have to get back in a few hours.... night shift."
"Ah... sure. Night shift. Busy workload tonight?"
"I don't think so."
He keeps his hands in his pockets the entire time, but he seems comfortable, confident, and content. "I bet it'll get busy in there." he adds, pointing to the cafe. "They have some of the best coffee and food around here."
"Have you been there lately?" you ask.
"It's been a little while now." he replies. "I had some time off last night and was going to go there, but I ended up making a stop by the hospital." he shrugs a little. "Had to see if you were looking after these soldiers properly, of course." he adds jokingly, raising an eyebrow at you.
"Yeah, you've been a real caring Major these last few weeks."
"Well, I was just making sure you were up to the task of caring for our troops." he continues.
"Oh, your soldiers never complained."
He smiles at your comment. "Glad to hear it." He looks at you again, a small grin on his face. "Or maybe it's just that they have something nice to look at while they're recovering?"
"Alright now Major Egan."
"Oh come on, why don't you just call me John, hm?"
You looked at him for a couple of seconds. "If you're sure."
He gives you a little nod, still smiling. "Absolutely."
You approach the cafe and he holds the door open for you as you walk inside.
The cafe is busy as John said it'd be. Off duty soldiers fill the place with their drinks, raised voices and the smell of cigars. Most of them are playing a game of cards at the tables. Several are chatting and laughing with each other, making it a very lively environment. Major Egan steps inside and closes the door behind him.
"It is busy, isn't it?" he asks as he guides you to an empty table. He holds your seat out for you before sitting down across from you. "You don't mind it being so busy, do you?"
"Not at all."
He smiles, his hands still in his pockets. A waiter comes to your table and takes your order. John asks you what you want and then orders for you. You just smile politely at the waiter before he heads off.
"I'm glad you agreed to come with me this afternoon." he says after a moment in silence. You notice him leaning forward on the table as the conversation continues. He seems quite calm, but you can tell how focused he is on you.
At one point, one of the soldiers at another table glances over at the two of you, and then nudged the others at the table. There's a murmur of conservation and a few more glances as the others take note of the Major and the nurse sitting together again.
The Major doesn't seem to notice though. It remains a lighthearted conversation, but there's an undercurrent of something a little bit more going on underneath the surface.
Before either of you realize, both of you have been talking to each other for half an hour. The Major shows no signs of losing interest in the conversation.
After a while, a couple first year Sergeants approach the table curiously, excitedly presenting themselves to John.
"Major Egan, sir!" the first says confidently.
"Major." the second follows. They both glance at you a tad nervously.
The Major looks up at them and smiles, still sitting at the table casually. "At ease, gentlemen" he says, raising his hands off the table, but still relaxed.
"Sir, a few of the men were wondering if they could get an extended leave, due to the successful mission earlier today."
The Major stares at the first Sergeant for a second, and his eyes dart over to you. He's still smiling a little, but there's a serious side to him that comes through as he talks with them.
"I understand that you were planning on extending their leave to allow them to rest?" he replies to both men.
"Yes, sir." the first replies "if that's alright with you, sir?"
"It's alright, Sergeant." the Major nods again. "There'll will be no issue on my part in regards to that. How many days are you looking at?" he asks, looking between the two Sergeants.
"Around a week" one of them replied boldly "if that's fine with you sir?"
"A week, hm?" he stares at them for a moment. "A week should be sufficient for them to recharge, especially after a mission like this morning. Make it happen."
The Sergeants both nod their heads. "Yes, sir." They both give you a resrpectful salute before turning back around and walking to the larger table.
"Major Egan..." you say mockingly. He was so different when he talked to you.
He glances over at you with a little half grin. "Yeah?" He laid back in his chair as he waits for you to continue.
"And just when I was about to call you John." You say.
He chuckles softly at that. "Go ahead and call me John. If anyone around here is going to call me that, it should be you." he took a sip from his beer.
That gave you a chill down your spine, out of nervousness.
He sees that he has gotten some sort of reacting out of you, but that smile still remains on his face. "Go ahead, call me John."
"Alright, stop that." you chuckle.
"I just want you to call me by my first name. Is that too much to ask?"
You look at him in the eyes for a second, before smiling. "In here?"
"Here" he pauses "or anywhere else if you'd like." He lays back and continues to smile. That damn smile.
As you take in his comment, music starts to blast and all the soldiers rise from their seats and grab the women to dance. The cafe instantly becomes an athmosphere of fun and liveliness.
The Major glances over at the dance floor. "Would you like to join me?"
You nod your head shyly, and take John's hands as he pulls you into the dance floor. The music is a classic swing tune, and the soldiers all seem to know the moves perfectly, moving with rhythm and flow in a very playful mood.
Major Egan seems to be familiar with the dance, and as he moves with you his confidence and skill is undeniable. He leads you easily, gently pulling you around and twirl you in his arms, and all the while, he stays completely focused on keeping you steady, stable.
"You're a good dancer." he tells you, still smiling playfully as he does. He spins you around in his arms and then back around again, pulling you close enough so that his face is inches from yours. He's still maintaining a comfortable distance between you two, but it's evident that he wants to be so much closer.
The music begins to pick up more, and as it does, his moves become just a little bit more intimate and playful. His arms around your waist. It's clear that he's more than just enjoying the dance.
Moving his hands down to your hips as he holds you, not giving you quite as much space as before. He tilts his head and gets closer to your face, maintaining that same playful grin.
"Careful, John." you say over the music, teasing him.
He chuckles at the teasing, but he doesn’t pull away, nor does he stop dancing with you.
His movements get a little bit more playful now, bringing you in even closer.
"John..." you begin.
“Yes?” He stares at you with that same grin on his face, but his eyes have become more intense now, as if wanting to know where this is going.
"Kiss me." you ask.
His eyes remain on you as he stares quietly for a second, but then he finally leans in to meet your offer. There is nothing playful or light-hearted about this exchange. This is a serious and bold moment for the both of you. Major Egan goes completely for it, pressing his lips against yours. And as he does, his hands moves to your hips and pulls you even closer to him. The kiss was slow but eager, like weeks of tension have been building up. Every movement and gesture felt intentional. His hands on your hips feel more intense and firm now. You pulled back and heard the music echo.
The moment of silence was deafening.
The music was no longer all that you could think about. He stares back at you, clearly still wanting more, but he holds back from following through in that very moment.
"Let's go." you say looking up at him.
He doesn't answer, but simply nods his head. He takes your hand in his own, and together, the two of you exit the dance floor and leave the cafe. As soon as you hit the street night air, John grabs your hand and pulls you close again, his lips finding his way to yours. Your bodies are pressed against one another, and the intimacy of the moment is undeniable. His lips find yours again, this time, more eagerly. And he lingers for a second or two, savoring the kiss. This time, it feels like he’s taking it further, as his hands start moving down to your waist more playfully.
“You wanna take me to bed?” You simply say.
He looks back at you, a bit amused at the question, but also somewhat surprised that you had the boldness to suggest that.
He stares for a second, his lips partially parted. “Yeah. I do.”
His answers are blunt and straightforward. But there’s also a confidence and assertiveness about him that makes it very evident that he is completely and totally up for that idea.
You smiled. He smiles back at you, before leaning forward to take your hand again. But this time, he doesn't just hold your hand. He interlocks his fingers with yours, his hand more possessive now as he glances down at your interwined fingers.
He leads you back into the base, guiding you towards his quarters.
The silence between you two is punctuated with little whispers and small talk here and there, but overall, the atmosphere is very much still intimate and playful between the two of you.
You noticed your environment. You've never been in this part of the base before, as it was only reserved for the Majors. It’s clear that this is a very private side of the base, for these higher ranking officers to be able to relax in the company of their women.
As you walk down the corridor, you hear the song My Funny Valentine by Chet Baker echoeing from a hall near by. Major Egan guides you through the hallway, the two of you still following hand in hand, until you both finally arrive at his room. You enter and before you could assimilate the space around you, John grabs your waist from behind, spins you around and you watch him close the door behind him so effortelessly, just before he kisses you gently, but passionately.
Everything around you has become a blur now, but you feel his hand on your back, leading you closer to his bed.
You start to walk backwards as he guided you. You put your arms around his neck, looking for support as he kisses you eagerly now. You jump, clinging into his body, as he grabs the back of your legs with his hands, easily supporting your weight. You moan quietly as he starts to feel your skin under your skirt as he holds you with both his hands.
John exhales soundly. "God..." he trailed off "You even sound beautiful."
His lips attack yours once again, filled with desire. His comment gave you chills all over your body. You felt him sit on the bed, you now straddling his lap. Being this close to him left you intoxicated, even speechless. You had nothing to say to him. Your attempts seemed to only come as careless whispers or moans as he explored your body with his hands.
"John..." you finally spoke.
You felt him smile into the kiss. "Yes?"
You took a second to answer, processing his touch. "Fuck me." You finally said.
He couldn't hide his smile. "I wanted to do this right." he paused as you looked at him. "I wanted to make love to you first."
The smirk plastered on his face made you melt. His eyes glistening with adoration for you.
You retributed the smile. "Sweet John..." you began tracing his features with your fingers. "Please do that."
You saw his smile grow slightly wider just before he closed the gap between both your lips.
He held you closer, his grip on you more firm, but never once hurting you.
“I imagined this moment a lot.” He confessed.
You began to take his uniform off. His shoulders so broad and his arms like two comforters around your torso. He did the same with your clothes but taking his sweet time to take in every little detail about you. The curve of your neck, the shape of your breasts and the freckles on your skin. Most of all he noticed the way your expression changed slightly when you became blushed with arousal.
His pants were bothering you, they were in the way. Your hand flew to his belt, trying to unbuckled it with no success. You saw him chuckle, surprisingly out of nervousness, as he helped you take it out. You always thought the Major John Egan would be swift in these manners, he had experience after all. It was the only thing nurses talked about, how much luck he had with women, inside or outside base. Was it so hard to believe that he could be actually nervous because you were the one unbuttoning his pants and trying to discard them? That was hard to grasp.
John grabbed the low of your back with one arm, supporting the other on the bed to lay you on top of it. He stood sat on the bed even after kicking his uniform pants, watching as you lay naked waiting for him to join you.
His expression was a mix of desire and adoration.
"What is it?" You asked laughing.
He shook his head slightly. "Nothing." he opened his mouth for a second before speaking. "I just think you're the most beautiful thing I've seen walk this earth."
You visibly blushed. How could you not? "You're just saying that because-" he interrumpted you immediately.
"Clothed or not." He said plainly, guessing the rest of your phrase. He looked at your face for a couple of seconds, and you did the same with difficulty. He was so handsome, his hair dischevelled falling perfectly on his forehead.
Not bearing it being away from him one more second, you grabbed his hand and pulled him to lay on top of you, opening your legs, allowing for him to fit in the empty space.
He immediately kissed you, your bodies now glued to each other. You could feel his hard member press against your core. You bent your kness, allowing him access. Your way of letting him know what you wanted.
He positioned himself at your entrance, ever so carefully. He looked at your expression as you gasped slightly, feeling him. He then kissed you gently, but eagerly, as he pushed himself inside you, slowly. Your mouth hang open as you threw your head slightly back on the pillow. He looked down at you, and he swore he could come undone right then and there, watching you in that blissful state.
You felt his lips on your neck, beginning in the low of your jaw until the base of your neck. You exhaled when you felt his touch and he could feel the vibrations of your voice on his lips.
His thrusts were purposely slow so you could adjust to his size. Soon enough he started to go deeper as you dig your nails in his upper back muscles.
"Faster." You pleaded, your voice only coming out as a low whimper.
He could hear it alright. John picked up his pace and you moaned louder as you felt every inch of him molding you.
"You feel so good." you heard him say between grunts into your lips.
You brought your lips to his, kissing him deeply. You broke it to speak finally. "John..." you called out his name. "I'm- I'm close."
"I know sweetheart, I know you are." his voice intoxicated you with desire, you could barely control yourself. "I can feel you closing on me." he continued thrusting in and out at that perfect pace. "You can let go... I wanna see that perfect face when you cum."
That was enough for you to explode. You soon came undone, your voice a higher pitch when you moaned his name a couple of times. You felt his warm release spill inside you. His face inches away from yours, mouths open, exhaling as you both reached your high. The moment that followed seemed like completely silent, only your breaths almost in perfect sync.
He smiled after noticing tears of pleasure in the corner of both your eyes, kissing each one of them away from your face. You both moaned when he removed himself inside you, both still very much overstimulated.
He laid next to you, immediately pushing you into his chest, arms wrapped around you. There were no words needed. You guys didn't have to talk about what happened. It was clear.
A few minutes were passed in silence. You looked at the clock on his wall, which marked almost twelve.
"Shit, I have to go. The night shift." you grabbed a bed sheet instinctively to cover yourself as you sat up, looking for your clothes scattered on his bedroom's floor.
"No." his voice lingered, pulling you back on the bed again. "You're staying here tonight."
You smiled as you looked at his sleepy expression. "I don't think that's up for you to decide. The doctors do our schedules, I have to show up to work."
His voice became deeper with tiredness. "I'm Major Egan. I can make a few calls." He suggested, his voice now more playful. "If you'd like to stay here with me tonight." his demeanour expectant.
You looked at him for a couple of seconds, giving thought to his offer. A smile escaped your lips, as you lay in the bed again, slightly embarrassed.
"They can get by without you one night. I can't." he admitted while wrapping his arms around your torso, setting the covers on top of you both.
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jinxificada · 2 months ago
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leave it to her.
troublemaker!jinx x people pleaser!reader
summary: for once, you were taken care of.
notes: nsfw, modern au, wc 2,7k. no proofread. Heh, this is for my bottoms out there !! might change the title lmao..
ཻུ۪۪ ༄࿐༉⁎ ⁺
never, in a million years, you would’ve thought that you’d see jinx crying. definitely not in such a… helpless way.
you were on your way to have lunch at the greenery of the campus, if you were lucky you’d find a nice spot under a tree, but the soft grass under the sun would suffice too. you had a red, juicy apple in hand, a novel in the other and your pretty purse on your shoulder. you were planning to do the best you could with that free period.
that is, until you casually find the blue haired girl crying under the bleachers.
it was out of character, way too far.
you’ve known jinx since… forever. though you doubted she ever noticed you, she definitely caught your eye from a very young age.
you didn’t know much about her home life, apart from rumors and gossip full of inconsistencies, her life history was a mystery. but you just knew something happened around the age of thirteen, because that’s when her personality had a huge change.
from the cheerful, creative, social butterfly powder to the obnoxious, short tempered, problematic jinx. it wasn’t from a day to the other, of course not, but you vividly remember when she mutated skins.
it started by her getting weirdly quiet. it was just strange for you not to hear her loud giggles and excited volunteers to participate in class. sometimes, she would even skip them. then you noticed that she pulled away from everyone. her former friends were mindlessly brushed off as she preferred to sit quietly alone.
she started getting in troubles. kids would accuse her from stealing stuff, such as pencils or lunch money. it got messy real quick, after all, they couldn’t ignore it when it was at least six to seven kids assuring it was her who committed the crimes. parents got involved, but apparently her father handled it very well because soon enough nobody cared anymore.
growing up jinx developed a punk, dark style that got you obsessed for awhile. and she played the part, discussing with the teachers and challenging the authorities, she really seemed to hate the system. and her classmates.
now, maybe, just maybe, you had a crush on her. and you could’ve do something about it, if it wasn’t because she scared the shit out of you.
jinx was a walking trouble. wherever she went, whenever it was, with whoever she wanted. her patience was extremely low and it was obvious she found joy in making others miserable. younger kids were more likely to be her victims, but some classmates were unlucky enough to get involved too.
she never messed with you. and your most logical explanation was that she simply didn’t care about your existence. and why would she? you two were… polar opposites.
while jinx was pure chaos, you were an angel.
everyone’s favorite, specially teachers. not that you were exactly a nerd, but that didn’t matter. so what if you weren’t academically smart? you were adorable, enthusiastic and kind. even the most strict and harsh teacher would feel happy to see your hand raising in their class and answer to your dumb questions. in fact, they’ll use you as an example to encourage others to satisfy their curiosity by learning.
socially, you were a bit awkward, but you always meant well! there isn’t a club you haven’t been a member of, or a student council activity you haven’t volunteered for. you gave free tutoring, shared your lunch to those who didn’t bring enough money, helped carry books or homework models from one side of the school to the other.
in conclusion, you were a sweetheart.
this comes from an early age. when your parents proudly bragged to their friends about how ‘quiet’ and such a ‘well behaved’ kid you were. sure you’ve got yourself in a few little incidents. like stealing a chocolate from the store when you accompanied your mom do groceries. bringing stray animals to your house because you were worried they’d have to sleep alone and making your parents deal with them. or getting caught red handed magnetically reading your father’s porn magazine.
silly little accidents.
you were simply the kindest soul alive. of course you wouldn’t ignore someone crying alone.
your shy steps alerted jinx quickly, her head snapped up and her bloodshot eyes stared at you with furrowed eyebrows.
“what do you want?” she aggressively asked you, there was a vulnerability in her tone that squeezed your heart.
“um, i have tissues.”
your hands trembled as you rummaged through your bag, rushing to kneel in front of her and hand them over. you needed to comfort her, but you also wanted this to end as soon as possible.
her already pouty lips formed a frown, hesitating for a long minute before snatching it from your hand to blow her nose. not another word came out from her, not even thank you.
it was awkward, to stare at her while she cleaned up her wet face. your eyes traveled down to the floor, clearing your throat. “it’s a nice day.”
jinx only scoffed. glancing at you for a brief second before focusing on the tissues. then, she threw it away and placed her chin on her forearms as she hugged her knees, going back to that gloomy energy.
you were unsure, because she didn’t quite asked you to leave, but it seemed that her mind was elsewhere. what do you say now? you didn’t want to pry, in fact, you didn’t even want to know what was tormenting her.
then why did you stay?
you moved slowly, as if any sudden movement would make her notice your presence, you sat next to her, maintaining a respectful distance.
well, grass is grass. though neither the sun nor the wind hit your face like you’d want, it was a quiet, calming spot. so you opened your book and read.
it wasn’t like jinx didn’t notice you, or cared. there was something about your mere presence, it brought her a sense of peace. she kept crying, but she didn’t sob anymore. jinx kinda wanted to scoop closer, to make you round your arms around her and rest her head on your chest. that’s how welcoming your vibe was.
she didn’t, obviously. you both just sat there in silence, the noise of your pages turning and her quiet sniffing, along with the distant laughter from the students, were the only sounds heard.
you could tell jinx’s mind was complex, that was clear like water. it was inviting, the complexity of her person. to be the one to figure her out would be a big accomplishment, but ending up harmless was not reassured. if only you could ask her why was she crying.
she wouldn’t tell you, anyway. how could she explain the pain of her memories, the grief and difficulty in her relationship with her sister?
nightmares were easier to manage. one can wake up sweaty in the security of their home and they’ll be alone, with no eyes to judge your trauma. but the nightmares transformed into sudden flashbacks in the middle of a class, the heartbeat quickens at a scary pace and the breathing gets heavier. and jinx thought, only for a second, that she might die right there.
you didn’t ask her, and she appreciated it. because your presence comforted her in a way no one, and nothing, could ever do.
jinx left first. she had spent the majority of the hour looking at the floor, occasionally grunting, muttering stuff you couldn’t comprehend. but she stared at you for quite some time. she found herself relaxing at the sight of your fingers following the words you were reading, paying attention to the smallest details in your actions. like the little puffs of air and the way your chest rises, jinx’s own breathing started to match yours at some point.
it sent shivers down her spine when she realized. neither of you says a word when jinx suddenly gets up, shook the dirt on her jeans and walked away.
you thought it was over, how silly.
next day you were welcomed by stares and giggles, firstly you just thought everyone was being super friendly. until you got to your locker.
the word ‘dyke’ shined in a fluorescent pink, other small drawings filled the free space. it wasn’t strange for students to decorate them, but this clearly wasn’t your doing, and it was extremely striking compared to your quiet personality. that was jinx’s handwriting.
you chuckled to yourself in disbelief, naively tried to brush a hand to clean it with no success and you hear more laughing. you glance away from your locker, just then you notice people made a round to watch you, some even took evidence with pictures. your cheeks reddened intensely, and you tried laughing with them, to pay no mind to the aggression of it all and laugh it off.
you were boiling anger.
escaping the spotlight wasn’t easy, but you make it to the furthest bathroom. you felt like screaming, your breathing was heavy and little tears tickled the corner of your eyes.
what did you do to deserve it? is that how the universe pays you for being nothing but kind to people? you knew half of the students that were laughing at you. you helped them pass their exams, paid for their lunch, listened to their problems when no one else would. and then they laughed at you.
and what was so funny? how did they even know you were into women? were you that obvious?
while you were processing that and much more in you mind, someone else entered the bathroom. your head snapped towards them, scoffing loudly when you realize.
“dyke?” your voice rumbling in the empty room made jinx giggle, she closed the door and swiftly locked it. there was a very different air coming from her, she looked joyful, lively and mean.
her little mocking smile pretended to look innocent as she battled her lashes at you.
“dyke.” she shrugged, approaching you slowly. you felt cornered, like a prey.
“w—why?”
“w—why not?”
you huffed in frustration, stepping back to try and keep some distance, but she wasn’t having it. “did i offend you? yesterday?” you asked, unable to hold back the little tears.
jinx doesn’t answer, but her demeanor softens noticeably. she reached to brush her thumbs on you cheeks, she felt the warmth of your blush and her heart fluttered. she felt so giddy that it scared her, suddenly pulling back.
“what a dumb question.” she scoffed, messing with her hair as she turned to the mirror, fixing her appearance to her liking. you saw how she purposely smudged her eyeliner and you mentally agreed. it suited her. “when will you learn to mind your own business?” she added your name to the end of the question and it threw you off.
“huh?“ jinx looked at you with nonchalance, slightly amused at your confusion. “what do you mean?”
“you’re always behind other people, offering a helping hand and what not— it pisses me off.” her voice got progressively more annoyed. “you’re only losing time, did anyone help you back out there?”
“w—well, no, but—“
you couldn’t think of anything. she was right, she also approached you again, and her closeness affected you quickly, snatching the words from your mouth.
“b—b—but.”
you grunted, hiding your face in your hands as you leaned back on the wall. “stop it, stop.”
“i’m not doing anything!” she chuckled, comfortably placing herself next to you with her shoulder pressed to the cold surface to face you better. you couldn’t see her, but there was little hearts in her eyes as she gazed you.
“what’s wrong with lesbians, anyway…?” you used your last defense, muffling your words softly against your hands.
which you quickly pulled away when you felt cold fingers tickling the exposed skin of your waist. jinx held you with a delicacy that made your breathing twitch.
“nothing~” she purred, getting even closer as she hugged you from the side. “i love lesbians.” she chuckled again, but it didn’t sound like she was making fun of you now. you were bewildered, but you didn’t separate an inch. “i just couldn’t think of anything else to mock you, heh.”
you knew it was wrong for many reasons, but in the very moment you thought that it was cute. she was cute.
“i… i didn’t knew you…”
“hmm?” she hummed with a smile, placing her lips close to your ear to murmur as soft as she could. “that i was into you?”
she wasn’t making things up. you were simply oblivious. why else were you practically the only one unaffected by jinx’s antics? until today, that is.
if you’d have payed attention, you would’ve noticed the constant staring, the quiet steps behind you. you would’ve understood why some ungrateful students came back at you after a tutoring session to offer you money for your time and effort, you never accepted it, but there was jinx threatening kids for you.
jinx fixation only snapped when you finally offered your attention to her. to have you kneeling in front of her with worried eyes, unsure of how to actually help her and not leaving when she wouldn’t even spare you another glance after accepting the tissues. your kindness made her heart race and she wanted it all to herself.
the silence that filled the bathroom was comforting, though the tension could be cut with a knife. or a kiss, whichever happened first.
surprisingly, you made the first move. tilting your head close enough to brush your lips against hers. you felt her sigh into your mouth before reciprocating. the contact was firm, eager and gentle. could’ve been more romantic if you weren’t in the schools bathroom, but neither of you minded.
she didn’t lose time to press herself into you against the wall, her hands roamed your waist and shamelessly explored under your shirt. the kiss quickly heated up, just like your bodies.
your hands clutched her shoulders to keep her close, though you shy away for a second when her tongue licked your lower lip. “god…” you sighed, mesmerized by the feeling. jinx tried again and this time you welcomed her by opening your lips for her.
she treated you so good, her touch both gentle and hungry made your back arch into her. her tongue conquered your mouth with ease, exploring every inch until one of you pull away to breath.
it was intoxicating, thrilling. the voice in your mind warning you when her hand slipped under your pants got more and more distant. her slim fingers caressed you over your underwear and you reluctantly broke the kiss to whimper softly. it was unknown, exciting. your own hand gripped her forearm as you tried to quiet down.
jinx hummed in amusement, “feels good, hm?” she pecked your lips before moving to your neck. it was only a matter of minutes before you pleaded for more. though your words came out slurred and nonsensical, you had to guide her hand under your panties to make the point.
“y—yeah, yeah,” you kept mumbling, praising the softness of her touch. jinx’s own knees trembled when she heard you moan loudly, her middle finger smoothly entering your pussy. she had to kiss you again to shut you up, but she was fucking you so nice.
you greedily asked for more, muffling against her lips. you wouldn’t even be standing if you weren’t holding yourself from her shoulders. she added another one, setting a soft pace, her curling fingers hitting your sweet spot over and over.
you felt the pressure in your lower belly, “ah, jinx—“ you tried to warn her, but she already had an idea. your walls squeezed her fingers harder, and your hips kept twitching towards her, searching for relief.
“i got ya, baby.” she reassured you, murmuring sweet nothings into your ear as you came in her hands.
jinx was a riddle no one bothered to figure out, not even you. it was a pleasant surprise to be the first to feel how sweet she can actually be. you craved more of her.
it was a weird pairing, people noted. you both mindlessly walked hand in hand the next week, jinx’s uncaring attitude gave you the boost of confidence you needed after being laughed at so recently. [jinx apologized profusely for it.] but it worked perfectly, having each other’s back when something went wrong. there was a special, comforting connection between you two that couldn’t be compared.
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thecoochiefairy · 4 days ago
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kill bill. toji fushiguro.
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𑄽𑄺 warnings 𑄽𑄺 27.5K word count. toji! fushiguro! third person omniscient pov, black woman, vaginal penetration, deflowering, angry sex, rough sex, sweet sex, sweet talkin’, hair pulling, squirting, creaming, oral [f] [m], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, condomless sex, creampie, kissing, spanking, aggressive toji, caring toji, lil bit of sweet toji, violence, grief, loss, family drama, mention of suguru getou, minors aren’t welcome!
━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ now look, you should know when i make a fic, that hoe definitely gon’ be long as fuck. so don’t scream at me, okay? let’s make this a lil early christmas gift to my babies. i think this my favorite fic i’ve written. i’ve chained myself to the bed to finish this. i loved this plot so much. so so much. omg y’all. please enjoy it. please. okay, i’ve said enough.
‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆visuals. ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆
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song while listening ᖭི༏ᖫྀ :: for certain, partynextdoor.
ᖭི༏ᖫྀ :: ….small note for name pronunciations within fic— nozomi (NO—ZO—ME) ami (AH—ME) isamu (EE—SAH—MOO).
PARTYNEXTDOOR FILLED THE SPEAKERS OF THE ROOM, R&B CRAWLING AMONGST THE WALLS. This is where she felt most at peace, her focus directly on her regular customer. 
“This is a new color for me, are you sure it’ll look nice?”
“Stop worrying, the color suits you beautifully. No black woman should ever turn away from brown hair,” she tells her, lessening the worry upon the customer's face. 
“Even at my age?” 
“Even at your gorgeous age, Ms. Bernice.” 
She adds the finishing touches, removing the curling iron as she sat it down on the table next to her. She spruces out the layered curls as she gives her a grin, “You’ ready to see?”
The woman who sat upon the chair nodded her head vigorously in excitement. She had been trying to convince Ms. Bernice to try a wig since she complained with her age that she was losing her hair. She offered to give her an age-appropriate bob, layered in between its curls. 
Her eyes gleamed as she turned in the chair to look in the mirror, a gasp of surprise escaping her lips as she inspected herself in disbelief, running her fingers through the silky soft hair, in complete shock that it was a wig. 
Her eyes sparkled in awe before turning back to her stylist, “It’s—It’s amazing! I look better now than I did with my real hair!”
“You looked just as beautiful before. I just enhanced your beauty,” she shakes her head, “It came out perfect.”
The woman laughed as she took out her wallet from her purse, “My husband’s going to flip when he sees this, you’re gonna get me in trouble!” 
Ms. Bernice then goes to pull out a fifty-dollar bill, this being her tip after already paying her in full as she says, “Thank you, Nozomi. You’ve really outdone yourself today.” 
Nozomi instantly takes the money, reaching around to put it back into her customers purse, “I told you to stop giving me those big ass tips, put some gas in your car or something. You know I’d do this for free if I didn’t have bills.”
The woman chuckled heartily as she pushed the money into Nozomi’s hand, making sure she took it, “Of course I know you’d do it for free, that’s exactly why I’m giving you a big tip! You don’t need the money, but you sure deserve it, you work so hard everyday, it’s the least I could do for you.”
She smiled as she then accepted the money, “Thank you. I really appreciate you.”
Ms. Bernice waves her hand, “Don’t start your sentimental stuff before I start crying. Anyways, can I book you again next week for a touch up? I have an event.” 
Nozomi sighs, “I’m sorry, my love. I’ll actually be out of town, my older sister’s getting married. I should be back a week after that.” 
“No worries—oh, a wedding, how beautiful. Congratulations to her. Where’s it gonna be?”
“It’s uh… actually a surprise to me. To the entire family, damn near. We won’t know until we get the invitations, but she gave us the dates and bought the tickets, so kinda sorta a free trip,” she briefly explains, “I’d never say no to that.”
“Ooh, a destination wedding, how exciting!” The woman clapped her hands together, “It’s like a mystery vacation,” Suddenly an idea popped into the her mind as she spoke, “Maybe it’s Vegas?”
Nozomi’s neck flung back, “God, I hope not. She might as well have Elvis be her damn officiant.”
Ms. Bernice chuckled as she spoke, “From the way you talk about her, she seems a little bougie. Probably Singapore or something.” 
“Now she knows our black ass family ain’t traveling to no damn Singapore,” Nozomi chuckled, “If that’s the case—pray for me. It’ll be a shit show.”
The woman laughed once more before nodding her head and standing up from the chair, grabbing her purse that rested on the counter on the opposite side of the room, “Maybe she’ll surprise you, send everyone off to Paris or something.” 
“The girl is bougie—never said she wasn’t a little frugal,” Nozomi replied as she walked her to the door.
“And that’s why you marry a rich man like your sister did,” Ms. Bernice finalizes. 
“That we can both agree on,” Nozomi chuckles, “See you next time, take a bunch of pictures for me!”
The woman gave a wave before walking out the door, “I will, I will! Bye bye now!” She shouted behind her. 
When she opens the door to let her out, Ms. Bernice stops herself from tripping as she nearly steps over an object along the ground. Nozomi looks down as she notices a pale pink box. 
She frowns, looking around the quiet outside before she hesitantly picks up the box, taking it inside her shop. Placing it along the counter, she pulls the silk white ribbon holding it together, opening the top as it looks to be cherry blossom petals within the box, scattering beneath the pink envelope, golden words trimmed atop of it. This was her sister's wedding invitation. 
She turns down the music within her shop as she absentmindedly begins to clean, other hand occupied as she reads the invitation. Then, her phone begins to ring. 
Ami. Just like clockwork. 
She holds the phone to her ear as she answers, continuing to read the invitation. The squeal on the other line was a usual greeting, something she was used to at this point. 
“Did you get it?”
Nozomi blinks at the envelope, “I did. Uh…Kyoto, Japan, Ami? Really?”
She could hear Ami giggling on the other line of the phone, her excitement evident, “Yes, really! Isn’t it perfect?” 
Nozomi continued to look at the envelope in hand, the pink cherry blossom petals filling out the box, “I…” she sighs, “It’s perfect. I love it.”
“No, no. Say what you need to say before you start holding in your anger and it turns into an even bigger thing.”
“I haven’t been to Japan in two years, Ami. Not since mom’s passing.”
She didn’t want to ruin the mood, knowing her sister wouldn’t let her comment make her upset. She just wanted to remind her. The mention of a place they once called home made something in her stomach turn, their mother being a fully black woman, their father being a full-blooded Japanese man. Their mom met him when traveling for school, and they fell in love immediately, raising their family there up until her sickness. They’d been back and forth between Kyoto and the states, but both of them were home to Nozomi. 
 They took traits from both parents. Ami looked more like their father, fair skinned, hair more pin-straight then anything, while Nozomi looked exactly like their mom, toffee skin, only having her fathers cheekbones, freckles and eyes. Every time she looked in the mirror, her heart ached.
“I know, I know…but,” Ami began to speak, her tone now more gentle than excited, “I just wanted to have the wedding somewhere special. Somewhere that’s special to us…”
Nozomi sighed once more, setting the invitation back amongst the cherry blossom petals. Her eyes traced over the golden writing, a small smile spreading across her lips, though her heart was still aching.
“I understand. Kyoto is an amazing place to have picked, mommy always loved it there. But it’s your man’s hometown too, huh? Did he have any say in this choice?”
She could hear her sister’s soft chuckle on the other line, her smile more than likely a soft one as she spoke, “Suguru thinks it’s a good idea, his family is already here, that’s less expenses on us. Although we still had to fly out our family, it was a smart choice.” 
There was a moment of silence before she could hear Ami speak once again, her tone holding a hint of concern, “Are you upset? I feel like you’re upset.”
Nozomi shakes her head, closing the top of the box as she says, “No, no. Not at all. I’m just…I didn’t think I’d be back there so soon. It’ll feel a little strange,” her smile is weak, trying to be lighthearted. Keyword—tried.
 She then asks, “Is uh…Is dad coming?”
Nozomi and her father’s relationship hadn’t been the best since her mother’s passing. After finding out he had been cheating on her while she was sick, Nozomi didn’t have anything to say to him. Ami kept in contact—that was enough for her.
A heavy silence fell on the other end of the line for a few moments, her sister’s voice finally breaking the uncomfortable silence between them.
“He is.” 
Nozomi could feel her heart begin to ache again, her smile disappearing. The topic of their father had always been a sore subject, though she knew it was better left alone. 
“Great,” she mutters, beginning to place the invitation politely back into the box, placing her other belongings in her purse as she was about to lock up her shop.
Her sister quickly replied on the other end of the line, holding a hint of panic, “Nozomi…don’t be like that. I know you have your feelings towards him, I get it. All I ask is that you at least try to be civil with him? For my wedding? I don’t want any drama.”
“I’d never do that to you, Ami,” she tells her, “Wanna go down your list of invites since you think I’m so barbaric?”
She could feel Ami rolling her eyes, “Don’t start your dramatics. Not when I’m about to tell you that I want you to be my maid of honor.” 
Nozomi halts, dropping her wallet into her purse as she glances out the window, “Me? Your maid of honor?”
A soft chuckle escaped her sister's lips, “Well duh, who else would it be? You’re my sissy-pooh. I’ve already got your dress, don’t worry, it’s not ugly. You’re excited, right? Please tell me you’re excited.”
Nozomi nods her head as if her sibling can see her, “Of course I’m excited. I just assumed that you would pick one of your friends.” 
“Oh, true. I mean, Kim will be there to help you—“
“Kim?” 
The entire conversation halts. It’s not that Nozomi was dramatic, however the name did bring an annoyance to her chest that she couldn’t shake. This was one of her sister's good friends, a friend of hers at one point—up until she slept with her man—the same man she was about to make things official with. It technically wasn’t cheating, but it was a fucked up gesture in her playbook.
“Yes, of course Kim is going to be there. I can’t not invite her to my wedding.”
“I’m aware,” Nozomi mutters more to herself, “But if you expect me to be butt-buddies wit ‘Kim-who-fucks-bitches-niggas’ Kim? Then it’ll be a cold day in hell, bridezilla. I’ll be cordial.” 
“Well you better keep that same energy when you see the man she fucked, cause Toji will be Suguru’s best man.” 
A pen could’ve dropped. 
The name echoed in her mind. She couldn’t lie to herself and say at one point she wasn’t endlessly in love with Toji. She had always been stubborn, not as emotional as her sister or willing to be in love the way Ami allowed herself to. But when the opportunity came with Toji, she made him work for it. He was just like her—stubborn, stern, aggressive—but he knew what he wanted, and that was her. He was the only person that could soften those walls, and just when she was ready to be committed to him, she found out that he hooked up with Kim, knowing that was also her friend, Kim also knowing that was her man. Both of them could go to hell.
Nozomi’s hand tightened around the phone, “Toji is his best man?”
Ami let out a breath as she spoke once more, her voice filled with reluctance, “I…yes. I know you both went through a rough patch—“ 
Nozomi could hear her sister’s voice soften even more, her voice taking a gentler tone, “I know things didn’t end well with you two, and I didn’t mention it before because I didn’t want you to say some bullshit about not going to my wedding.”
“Girl, bye. I love your ugly ass too much not to show up at your wedding,” she tries to joke away her anxiety, “Just send me pictures of all the bridesmaids dresses so I can know how to do my hair.”
Her sister’s giggles came through the phone as her squeal calmed down, her giddiness evident in her voice, “I’m so excited. Oh my God, everything is falling together! I already picked out the flowers…this is gonna be so much fun! Kyoto! Kyoto!” 
Nozomi could hear her sister begin to ramble on about her wedding preparations, it was cute to see her so excited and in love. But the back of her mind filled with the endless possibilities of this being a disaster. Her technical ex was in one room, while her ex-friend was in the other. She didn’t know who to swing on first. But this was her sister's wedding. It would be a perfect day for her. 
….Or an extremely hot day in Nozomi’s personal hell.
                      ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.  𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.  𐦍༘⋆
IT SEEMED LIKE THE NEXT COUPLE OF DAYS FLEW BY, and she was now arriving back in a place her parents called home at one point—Kyoto, Japan. The minute her feet landed in Osaka’s international airport, the crisp air made chills come down her spine. Memories of her mom rushed through mind like a collage, her smile, her laugh. Her throat went tight again. 
When she brought her focus back to finding her exit, a familiar face held up a sign that read, ‘NOZOMI—OMI.’ The nickname made her smile, pulling her suitcase as she ran up towards her older brother, Isamu, wrapping her arms around his neck as she crushed him into a hug. She wasn’t the affectionate type—but she also hadn't seen him since the funeral. She was the only sibling that now lived within the states, Ami staying in Kyoto with Suguru after the funeral, and Isamu living not too far from them. Nozomi needed the space and time to grieve. But maybe family was something she needed too. 
“Woah—hey, Omi’,” he clutched her, Nozomi digging her face into his shirt. Her eyes begin to well with tears, unable to stop herself as she squeezed him harder.
Her older brother wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him as he held her, his arms holding her around the waist as he squeezed her back. She couldn’t see it from having her face buried in his chest, but his face held a soft, sad smile. 
When he spoke, his deep voice was soft, “You’re squeezing me pretty hard, Omi’. You’ scared imma’ disappear if you let me go?”
“Maybe,” she muffled softly, squeezing the tightest she possibly could’ve, “Just—a little longer, please.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” 
He was well aware of the emotions going through her mind. Not seeing any of her family in over two years was hard enough. But returning to their family’s hometown was even harder. 
She quickly wiped her eyes before actual tears could come, hearing his voice made her want to break down. Her and her older brother had always been close—she missed his comfort, especially with their sister too busy in her relationship.
“How are you?” She asks, “You’ been okay?”
“I’ve been good…keeping busy with work and everything that’s been happening around here.” 
There was a brief moment of silence between the two before he spoke again, his voice a little quieter than before, “And you?“
“I’m…good,” she lies, “I’ve just been working. The hair business is great, I’m just…excited to be back here and spend time with you and Ami. I didn’t expect her to want to do the wedding here, considering how hard she took mom’s passing.”
Isamu could tell she was lying, knowing her as well as he did. But he decided against saying anything about it, not wanting to push the topic. His mouth twisted into a small smile as he spoke, “I think it kind of brings her comfort. Being here and all. She says it makes her feel like a piece of mom is here with us.”
He placed a gentle hand against her shoulder, his eyes holding a sad look as he spoke, “How are you feeling about all this? About being here right now?”
That was the burning question. She could handle being here, but as far as speaking upon her mom—she wasn’t ready for that. 
She brushed off the urge to cry again, “It feels nice to be here in Kyoto. I feel at home. However, the rest of our family, Kim, Toji, and our father all in one room? Ami has lost her damn mind to think that would go over well. It’ll be one terrible ass Jerry Springer episode.”
“She’s definitely lost her damn mind,” He agreed, “She’s hellbent on it all being perfect and everyone playing nice.”
“Did you know Toji was the best man? Since when did him and ole’ boy become so close?” She questions, watching as he begins picking up her suitcase, following him out of the airport, “And don’t get to defending your little boyfriend either, I’m aware at how close y’all are,” she threatens, referring to him and Toji’s relationship.
As he loaded her luggage into the trunk of his car, he let out a gentle laugh as he closed the trunk and leaned against the back of it. 
His eyes rolled into his skull as he thought about how to reply, “Him and Suguru got cool overtime, I don’t know. They’ve known each other for a while. Ole boy got a name, dickhead. I’m not defending Toji. I could give you reasons to hate him, but I’m not going to feed into that.”
His eyes met hers, a sly look in his gaze as he spoke, “But you’re not exactly the angel that you think you are.”
“Wh��me?! The hell did I do?” 
He knew he triggered an extremely long ramble, trying to hold back his laugh as she got in the passengers seat, “I don’t fuck peoples men! That’s Kim’s slimy ass! And I’m not the one with the dick that fucked Kim! Toji’s a slimey-nasty-bitch too!”
A loud bark of laughter came from him as they were on their way to their old home, another place Nozomi wasn’t sure she could handle being at. He snickered quietly as they drove, “It’s called a joke, Omi’. Damn. Chill before you pop a blood vessel.”
He chuckled to himself again, “That was some fucked up shit though, not gon’ lie.”
“Not fucked up enough for you to still be cool with him, and definitely not fucked up enough for him to be Suguru’s best man,” Nozomi grumbled.
“I don’t expect you to play nice with him or Kim.”
“At least your expectations aren’t as high as our sisters. You should lower them to hell, considering I wanna rip Kim’s arm off her body and smack her around with it. Fuck that hoe.”
His voice held a hint of amusement, “You got a whole lot of pent up anger and aggression going on in that frame. You might wanna calm down and get that checked out.”
“Oh shut the fuck up,” she grumbled, leaning herself more into the window.
As they continued to drive, she got a good look of the city. It looked as if it never changed. The trees were still healthily green, buildings still posh, everything was always so put together. This was home for her father as well, it made her wonder where he was, but the thought of speaking to him came back to mind. She didn’t want to talk.
Isamu could see her looking out the window in her silent behavior. Even as a child, she didn’t talk as much. 
They soon pulled up to the familiar home, Isamu turning the car off before looking over to her, his voice soft as he spoke, “You ready?”
She didn’t look at him as she sighed, “I have to be.” 
When she stepped out of the car, she looked over the childhood home. A shock came to her face as it seemed to be entirely re-modeled, yet still the same. Dark brown wood on the rooftop of the white house, caramel timber holding the walls all together. Lanterns were all around, glowing the building in a beautiful sight. An aura felt carried around it, almost as if she were here.
Nozomi looked back to her brother as her eyes narrowed, “When did y’all uh…remodel the house?”
He walked alongside her towards the front door, pulling a set of keys out of his pocket as he replied, “Ami started getting it done. A wedding gift to herself, I guess.”
She nods her head, still looking up, keeping her eyes along the trees that hunched over the home. She then hears her brother ask, “You don’t like it?”
She shakes her head, “Nah, it’s perfect. Mom always wanted this place remodeled, dad always griped about wanting a traditional home. She would’ve loved it.”
He chuckled under his breath, the sound a little sad, “Yeah…she always wanted all the fancy things. She would’ve loved this home. Dad’s probably somewhere complaining about it as we speak.” 
Their father was old school, and wanted to maintain the traditional things that Japan had to offer.
“But who gives a fuck about his opinions,” she adds on beneath her breath.
Her attention was pulled as she heard a squeal coming from the top of the stairs. The house looked small on the outside, but on the inside it held about seven bedrooms, perfectly accompanied for a big family that was always usually within the house. The furniture was still pretty small, most of it low to the ground, similar to the beds within the bedrooms, more large, still being covered by Shoji screens, thankful that each room had space enough to muffle the sound next to the other. She was sorry for the room closest to the newlyweds.
When her attention came back, she was nearly tackled as Ami wrapped her arms around Nozomi’s neck, wrapping her legs around her as well as she locked her into a hug. Nozomi couldn’t help but laugh softly, holding her tightly as she said, “Hey, beautiful. I missed you.” 
She could feel her top beginning to dampen, a small laugh falling from her lips again as she said, “Ami, why are you crying?”
Ami’s voice was soft and shaky as she attempted to speak through her tears, “I missed you too. So much, it’s just—“ Her voice broke off into a sob as she buried her face in Nozomi’s neck, her small hands gripping tighter to her sister as she continued to sob in her arms.
“I’m here,” she sighed, pulling her closer, “I missed you more. Please stop crying, this is the shit we’re supposed to be doing on your wedding day.”
“I know. I know, I’m…I’m okay. I swear, I’m just…glad you’re here, Omi’.” 
“Is she crying again?” 
A voice came down the stairs, appearing to be Ami's fiancè. He was just as handsome as Nozomi remembered him, long dark hair pulled out of his face, black sweatshirt, muscles bulging through the top, a tattoo coursing along his arm. 
Nozomi said, “Yes, she is.”
“Babydoll, don’t cry,” he tells her sister, coming from behind and rubbing her shoulder.
Ami turned towards her fiancé, her eyes still watery from crying. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against his body, her face flushed a soft shade of pink as she smiled. 
Isamu clarified, “She’s fine. Just emotional.”
“Remember when you cried every-time it rained outside, because you thought God was sad at you for behaving badly at school? Yeah, shut up,” Ami insults their brother, both of them putting their middle fingers up to each other. 
Nozomi says to Suguru, “It’s good to see you. Are you happy about the wedding being in your hometown? Is your family excited?”
The soon-to-be husband chuckled quietly as he spoke, his arms still wrapped around Ami as he said, “Everyone’s excited as hell. I can’t wait to make her my wife.”
Nozomi nods her head with a smile. He was sweet. Another question comes to mind as they hear a pair of feet circling the corner from where the office was, a familiar face appearing in the kitchen. Here she was, the infamous Kim. 
Her olive toned skin was always perfect, her dark brown hair up in a sleek ponytail. Her outfits were always classy and expensive. She was a beautiful woman, Nozomi could admit that. She just wished that beauty ran deeper than the skin surface.
Kim’s eyes flicked to everyone in the room, before they landed on Nozomi. A sly smile spread across her lips as she crossed the room, her voice sickeningly sweet as she spoke, “Well…if it isn’t little Omi’.”
“Hey, Kim,” Nozomi gives her a wave, wanting to say nothing else after that. 
Ami then budges in, “That’s it, ‘Hey, Kim?’ You can do better than that.” 
Nozomi raises an eyebrow, “You’ want us to start scissoring or something?”
“Jesus!” Ami smacks her arm, her fiancè and brother laughing at her younger sister's mouth. 
Kim then shrugs, “It’s fine. It’s nice to see you. It’s been so long,” Kim gives her a scan of her entire body, “It seems nothing has changed.“
That comment has Nozomi narrow her eyes, and it seems as if the whole room is holding their breath. She could admit, her and Kim were completely different, and that might’ve tied into more of her insecurities when the man she thought was attracted to her, went after her friend behind her back.
….Did Kim seem more calm? Eloquent? Classy? Knew when to shut up? What was it? 
Even if Kim was better in some aspects, that didn’t mean she couldn’t get the shit smacked out of her. Before Nozomi could dig into her ass, a pair of footsteps interrupt her foul insults, and when her eyes lock on the dark boots that stomp down each step, her throat nearly goes numb.
Each stomp of the boots was like the ticking of a clock, time slowing as she took in the figure standing on the stairs. A feeling of dread settled in her stomach, her mouth going dry as her lips parted but no words came out. Isamu and Ami both looked at her, noting her reaction. 
Toji’s tall frame came down the steps, his expression as cold and apathetic as usual, not that it was abnormal. The man had always been so stoic, to the point that it felt as if there was no life behind his eyes. Or, as Ami had stated a million times before, “That man isn’t a person, he’s a block of ice.” 
The more he matured, the finer he got. They weren’t much different in age, him and her siblings being thirty while she was only twenty-seven, but that came with a price. She was always blamed for not being as participant or even being a hot head, and as soon as she crashed out, her age was the first reason for explanation. But Toji never saw her that way. At least, that’s how he made her feel. 
The dark shirt he wore clung to his broad frame, contrasting the Japanese words that swirled along his arm, creating an entire sleeve that went up to his shoulder, dancing up to the side of his neck, disappearing behind his ear and clothing. His onyx hair and eyebrows, always low each time he entered a room. He was scary, sexy, tempting. Damn him. 
“Took you long enough,” Suguru said to him, “‘Fuck were you doing up there, powdering your nose?”
The tall man huffs in amusement as he responds, his voice deep and smooth, “I had to make an important phone call, you annoying bastard.” 
His friend gives him a smirk, as if mocking his words, “Who were you calling?” 
Toji rolls his eyes as he replies, “None of your fuckin’ business.”
“Omi’s here!” Ami interrupted, almost as if it was something to panic over. 
The entire room locked eyes with her, as if waiting for some type of reaction. They didn’t know what to expect. It annoyed her. When his eyes locked on her, she felt like she wanted to melt into the ground. One thing he could expect from her— she was different from her siblings. She stood in a white baby tee, star shaped nipple piercings poking through the top. Her green cargo pants were slightly baggy, hair in individual braids, poking in between  wavy human hair. 
They’re bohemian goddess braids, jackass. Look it up, he remembers her telling him. 
Her glasses laid upon her freckled face, almost looking similar to an office siren, nose ring shining beneath the lights of the kitchen. Small tattoos roamed her frame, large hips never discreet in any clothing she wore. She was fucking gorgeous.
His eyes took her entire body in, her usual appearance making his eyes narrow faintly. It made the scar on his lip twitch. She looked good, too good. Her brown skin was always just as smooth, her body just as curvy and attractive as always. 
“Yeah,” he scans her up and down, “She is.”
Nozomi has the sudden urge to choke him. 
Her attitude comes first as she completely bypasses him, looking at her sister as she says, “Show me to my room?”
The air suddenly tensed as she avoided him like the plague, his eyes narrowing further at her behavior. Ami noticed it as well, and she quickly nodded. 
“Uh, yeah…follow me.” 
She gave her fiancé a kiss on the cheek before she began walking up the stairs, gesturing for Nozomi to follow her.
“Who else is gonna be staying here?” Nozomi asks, yet she gets no response. She felt a mood shift within her sister, and she knew a lecture was about to come. Once they make it in front of her door, Ami turns to her and quietly whispers, “Why did you do that?!” 
Nozomi tilts her head, “Do what?”
Ami looks at her as if it’s obvious, her tone laced with confusion as she whispers back, “Ignore Toji!” 
She glances down the hall to make sure no one can hear them as she continues to speak in a quiet tone, “You acted like he wasn’t even there!”
“You didn’t tell me he was gonna be here, Ami. Don’t act like you didn’t purposely do that,” Nozomi replies, crossing her arms over her chest.
Ami lets out a long sigh, placing her hands on her hips as she rolls her eyes, “Look, I’m sorry, but you’re both adults. I know you’re mad at him, but you can’t act like he doesn’t exist the entire weekend.”
“I actually can!” She exclaims back in a whisper, “He can fuck Kim in every Kama Sutra position known to man. I wouldn’t give a fuck if he stood there in a clown costume! I still wouldn’t have spoken.” 
“Are you done?” Ami blinks. 
Nozomi then pulls back with a sigh, realizing how she’s being. “I’m sorry. Maybe I should just get a hotel. I don’t wanna ruin your weekend.” 
Ami shakes her head as she replies, “You’re not getting a hotel. Just…can you please try to speak to Toji? Like…be mature about it? You didn’t work out, sure. That’s okay!”
Nozomi blinks, “It’s okay? It’s okay that I was practically in love with the bastard, was gonna let him break me out of my abstinence? Take my virginity? Then to find out he fucked Kim because what— her pussy was free? Fuck him!” 
Ami squints, “You’re still a virgin?”
“Ami!”
Ami looks surprised for a moment before her face becomes neutral again, her voice lowering, “Really? You and Toji never…?” 
She pauses for a moment, as if realizing something else after asking that question. Her eyes widen as she speaks, her tone now in a low whisper, “How? You literally told me you had sex before? Did you lie? Why would you lie to me?!”
“Because I didn’t want you to think I was a weirdo or something, you were all experienced and shit, sex was scary to me! Still is! And you think imma’ let that gorilla take my banana when he’s giving his for free?”
“You don’t have a banana,” Ami reminds. 
“You get my analogy, though. My point still stands, fuck him.”
Ami groans faintly, raising her hands up to rub her temples to calm her growing headache. She sighs as she speaks, “I know, I know…but I need you to be mature about it for one weekend. Please?!” 
“I will respectfully ignore him, unless you want me to be so sweet that I slice his throat in his sleep. And that’s being charitable.”
Ami looks horrified for a moment at her response, her eyes wide as she replies, “No! You will not do that! My wedding does not include any cutting of throats!”
Nozomi stands there with her arms crossed, similar to a child before she huffs, “Fine.” 
“Good! Now go change and get washed up. Matter of fact, you’ll be in the kitchen. With Toji. Helping him cook. Goodbye!”
Nozomi’s eyes go wide, “Ami!—“
Her sister makes an incredulous noise, silencing her before she walks away. She wants to throw a tantrum. Fuck.
After showering, she was now fully dressed in a gray long sleeve that hugged her upper body, matching sweats and her house slippers that wouldn’t ache her feet like her regular shoes did. Her braids were held up by a claw clip, no makeup residual on her face as she pressed her glasses up along her nose. She’d put in her contacts eventually. She was hoping that she would enter the kitchen first, but as she saw Toji standing there in a black wife beater and sweats, silver jewelry clinking along his wrist, she held her breath. She held back the roll in her eyes as she scanned the countertop to see all the prepped food, not knowing where to start. Maybe this was the time to speak. 
Thankfully, she can hear his deep, gruff voice as she seems to be on the phone, speaking in Japanese. She understood most of it, but she didn’t care enough to listen to what he had to say. She took that as her opportunity to scan over the small box in the middle of the island, holding what looked to be the recipe for dinner tonight.
Toji’s eyes were on her the moment she entered the room, watching her movements as she took her time scanning the countertop, analyzing the ingredients and prepped food in front of her. He could admit, she looked as attractive as she did the first day he met her. Her skin was still smooth, hair braided up, tattoos exposed for him to admire beneath the gray clothing she adorned. Her glasses perched on her nose, making her look naturally sexy. Damn her.
She frowns down at the recipes, realizing how familiar they sound. She takes this moment to finally speak to him, never looking up from the counter as she asks, “Did Ami give these to you?”
He was surprised she'd actually spoken, even if it was to acknowledge the recipe, and not him. His eyes scanned her, noting the way her body looked in her current clothing, and how she was still somehow just as attractive in something as simple as sweats.
“Yeah, she did.”
“I’m assuming she has you cooking everything this weekend,” she comments, eyes glancing up at him.
Toji lets out a huff, and his deep voice responds to her question, “Not everything, but I am cooking.” 
He returns her stare, gray eyes scanning her face. He could tell she was bothered just by being in the room with him, but she was holding up. 
“So what did you need help with, then?” She questions, “It looks like you have everything under control.”
Something in him became immensely irritated at how she was being. He knew that she was still upset with him, but for the sake of her sister's wedding, he hoped she would put her feelings to the side. Clearly not. 
“I’m good. You can go,” he tells her, sharpness in his tone. 
She turns to leave the kitchen, and when he sees that she’s actually leaving, he becomes pissed off. 
“You’re gonna do this bullshit all weekend?”
Nozomi halts, turning towards him with a raised eyebrow. She replies, “Call it what you want, Fushiguro.”
“What, you don’t call me Toji anymore?” He snips, a sharp tongue being one of their similarities when they annoyed each other.
“Is that what you want?” 
“I want you to stop acting like a fuckin’ child.”
That makes both her eyebrows raise as she replies with an amused huff, “Huh. A child. Well how about I get back to my playground? Kim can come assist you.”
“Stop acting like a fuckin’ brat. Don’t act like you don’t feel something from seeing me.”
“Do you think you’re a prize? What did you think? That I was gonna be happy to see you? Jump for joy? Fuck you on this countertop? Don’t be fucking stupid. Do you need help in the kitchen or not? Cause that’s really all that needs to be said between us. I was doing my sister a favor by coming in here,” she snaps, anger seeping through her that she hadn’t felt in years.
“Don’t be a smart ass. I know that you’re pissed. I get that. But the weekend has barely started, and it’s already irritating dealing with your childish bullshit.”
“Then leave me the fuck alone, Fushiguro! I was fine before you said anything to me. I’m not gonna ruin my sister's wedding by bringing my own issues with you into that. I was fine before, I will be fine.” 
When she goes to turn, she feels him lock his hand around her wrist, her other hand close enough to the kitchen counter as she warns, “My hand is seconds away from a knife. Let go of me.”
For a split moment, he wonders if she’d actually stab him. She might. He decides to test that thought and refuses to listen to her, not letting go of her wrist.
“Maybe that’ll show me that you actually give a fuck to have a conversation,” he sharply replies.
“I don’t,” she promises. 
Damn, this woman. When he goes to pull her closer, the door to the kitchen swings open, the familiar ponytail appearing that almost makes Nozomi actually want to go for the knife on the counter. Kim. If she swung forward enough, she’d slice both of them.
The sight of Kim was both a good and bad thing. It was good because the brunette would act as a buffer between the two. It was bad because it would stop him from talking to Nozomi alone, since he was unable to do so outside of the kitchen. 
Kim asks, “You guys need help? Ami told me to come assist.”
“Of course she did,” Nozomi replies, her tongue on fire, “You got it. He seems to prefer you anyway.” 
She finally snatches herself away from him, making her way out of the kitchen without saying anything else. She barely acknowledges Kim, wanting to spit on her from how pissed she was. Fuck both of them.
Toji is almost tempted to grab her wrist again and snatch her back. His eyes watch her storm out in anger, and he turns his glare to Kim, who has no idea what the hell was going on. 
She looks to Toji, blowing out a breath as she mutters, “Drama Queen,” before shaking her head, “C’mon, I’ll help you finish. I’m starving.”
Nozomi was so upset that she was shaking. She didn’t think that she would care that much about seeing him or even speaking to him, but as soon as they went back and forth, all her feelings came erupting like vomit, and she didn’t know how to deal with them. She might’ve actually hurt him had she stayed in the kitchen. When she went back into her room, she kicked her shoes off, laying within the bed as she pressed her face into the sheets. She could feel her hot tears brimming into the comforter, wishing she wouldn’t cry when she was pissed off. 
She feels as if she’s laying there for an eternity. But as she hears her door slide open, she knows it’s her older sister. 
She mutters, “Not now, Ami. Please.”
She quietly closes the door behind her and makes her way to Nozomi, lowering onto the mattress as she sits down beside her. Ami gently places a hand on her back as she speaks, her tone soft, “You alright?”
It’s like the question had something almost shatter inside of her. She wraps her arms around the pillow in front of her, digging her face into it as she cries softly, “I fucking hate him.”
“You don’t hate him.”
“I know,” she replied, voice trembling. She didn’t hate him. In fact, seeing him again, she missed him so much. Everything hit her, her doubts, her insecurities. It all stood in between him and her sister's friend. 
“I feel so stupid. I’m stupid,”  she repeats, “Crying over a nigga that dropped me because I wasn’t ready to sleep with him.” 
“That’s not what it was about, Omi’,” her sister tries to counter.
Nozomi then sits up, “Then what was it, Ami? I know it’s because she’s prettier, thinner, smarter. More money. I just—“ 
She takes in a breath, trying to wipe her red face, “I just wish it didn’t hurt that bad. That she didn’t make me feel worse about it.”
Ami’s heart hurt as her sister voiced the thoughts that had been tormenting her. The insecurities and the pain that Toji had caused. Her sister had spent two years tormenting herself as if it was her fault.  
Ami gently takes her hand to squeeze, her eyes meeting with hers firmly, “You are so so stupid if you think that’s the only reason he fell for you. You’re beautiful and intelligent and talented. He didn’t break up with you because someone was better than you. And she’s not that.” 
“Then what?” Her glossy eyes glance up at her, “How am I supposed to feel when she’s here? Being with him?”
“Toji is a man, and men are idiots. That’s the only explanation for that. Look, Kim is just here as a friend for me. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to make you upset, it was wrong what she did. I can talk to her, make sure she doesn’t make you uncomfortable. But I need you to focus on yourself. Focus on the wedding. This weekend is a celebration, alright? I don’t want you making yourself feel shitty for that idiot.”
Nozomi sighs, finally feeling herself calm down. She was right. This was one weekend and she’d never have to see him again. It was gonna be a struggle, but she was tough. She wipes her eyes as she exhales, “You don’t need to talk to her. I’m fine. Kim is always gonna be Kim. The bitch has artistic intelligence, so I know she’s making your wedding a fairytale. I want that for you. I’ll be fine. As far as Toji, I’ll…I’m okay,” she finalizes, “I’m sorry. I don’t wanna ruin your night.”
Ami shakes her head gently, a kind smile on her face as she replies, “You could never ruin my night. I’d smack you if you did. I’m happy you’re here, it means the world to me.”
She gently reaches out to give Nozomi’s shoulder a light squeeze as she adds, “Just try to enjoy yourself, alright? You don’t have to talk to Toji, but you don’t have to be rude either. I don’t want you two arguing all weekend. I’m gonna go get dinner. I can bring you a plate up?”
Nozomi shakes her head, “I’ll come eat with everyone. Just need to clean my face up. Go enjoy your food.” 
She hesitates, wrapping her arms around her sister's neck as she mutters, “Love you.”
Ami’s heart warms when she hugs her. She returns the embrace, smiling gently as she responds, “I love you too. Always.” 
When she makes it downstairs, everyone is around the table, seated along the floor as they eat and talk amongst each other. She fell back into her solitude, grateful that no one questioned her silence. She’d give a brief glance at Toji when he wasn’t looking, watching as he spoke to his best friend, laughed, joked, a bit of normalcy that she couldn’t help but miss about him. She might’ve been stubborn, but she refused to get hurt again. She also couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that they used her mother’s recipes to cook the food, an entirely different reason why she felt so down. She wouldn’t have allowed her to cry over Toji. She would’ve called him a bastard and laughed in his face.
Toji feels her eyes on him. 
Throughout the night, he finds himself occasionally stealing glances in her direction. He can’t help it, she’s right there and it’s driving him mad. She’s still so damn beautiful.
As everyone makes small talk, and Kim tells a joke to crack some laughs, Toji’s eyes remain fixated on Nozomi. Her expression remains neutral, but he can see that she’s faking a calm composure. He wished she had giggled at his jokes the way she used to, he just wanted to feel something different from her. He missed that normalcy as well.
Nozomi barely touched her food, feeling her stomach growling as she made it back to bed that night. She couldn’t sleep. If it wasn’t her thoughts running amuck, it was definitely the unfortunate muffled sounds of her sister and her fiancè…enjoying their time together. 
She stands from the bed as she slides her door open, hoping her ears would fall off as she passes by their room, making her way towards the kitchen. She passes Kim’s room as well, and when she hears that Kim also seems to be enjoying herself, accompanied by a sound of masculine grunting, she can feel her palms shaking. 
“That fucking bastard,” she mutters. 
That ruins her entire appetite. Instead of her midnight snack, it sends her right back to bed. As she goes back to her door, she notices an object on the ground. She frowns beneath the darkness, leaning down as she sees an orchid laid along the wood. She sighs, knowing her brother had probably placed it there, a habit he had with both of his sisters if he was apologetic, trying to make them feel better. She appreciated it. She took the flower in her room and closed the door, attempting to get some sleep for the rest of the night. 
When the next morning came, she was greeted downstairs by everyone. Her sister was wrapped under her fiancè’s arms as she held a coffee mug close to her face, giggling as he talked within her ear.
Kim was in the kitchen making herself tea, talking to Nozomi’s brother, while Toji was engrossed within his phone, silent in an unusual manner. 
She rubbed her eyes as she tiredly greeted everyone, “Morning.”
Everyone replied with their own greeting, smiles and kind words exchanged between the group. Well, except for Toji, who was uncharacteristically silent.
He slowly looked up, his eyes locked on her as a pang of irritation spiked through him. She was wearing a tank top paired with tight boy shorts. Toji couldn’t tear his eyes away from the way her skin was on display, or the way her shorts hugged her hips. He was forced to look away, his jaw tense as he silently stared out the window instead.
“How’d you sleep?” Ami asks, “Want me to make you some tea?”
Nozomi shakes her head, “Slept okay. On account of you two love birds, y’all make me absolutely sick.”
“Nah, for real. Imma’ have to bleach my ears,” her brother pipes in, both older siblings once again throwing middle fingers to each other. 
“Oh, fuck off. This is my weekend! And this is my man, my man, my man!” 
Everyone laughs her off, knowing how in love she was with her fiancè. They couldn’t admit it, but it was adorable. 
Ami takes a sip of her tea as she says, “So, what’s on everyone’s agenda before the rehearsal dinner tonight?”
“I’m gonna head to the restaurant that’s catering the wedding, make sure your menus are just the way you wanted them and the food is perfect, beautiful bride,” Kim tells her, nudging her friend's leg with a smile. 
Nozomi figured that as the maid of honor these things would be her job, but if Kim wanted to kiss her sister's ass, she wasn’t going to stop her. 
“Imma’ go with her, it’ll give me a chance to get out of the house,” Isamu adds. 
“Great. We’ll be checking out the venue one more time, making sure they decorated it just how I imagined it—and from all the pictures I framed off Pinterest. If not, I will be going bridezilla on they ass. Anyways, my crew, rolling out!” 
As everyone disperses from the seating area, Nozomi notices as Toji is still there, interest deep within his phone. At least, pretending to be. She can’t read him. However, she can stare at him. The way he looks within this onyx wife-beater, she could lick him. The ink on his skin swirls along his arm, broad frame nearly wanting to break the small chair he sits in. 
Her attention is pulled away when she hears him ask, “You’ going out today?”
She blinks, “Huh?” 
Toji didn’t miss anything. He saw her staring from his peripheral, watching the way her eyes had roamed all along him. 
His eyes were locked on her now as he repeated, “I asked if you were going out today.”
“Oh, uh—“ she thinks about it, hearing her stomach deeply grumbling. She realized she hadn't had a full meal since she got on the flight to Japan. 
“Yeah—Imma’ head to this little restaurant my mom used to take us to,” she briefly replies, proud of herself for being cordial enough, especially after last night. At this point, she didn’t give a fuck about what he had going on. 
“Oishii?” he asks. 
She narrows her eyes a bit, “Yeah. How’d you know?” 
“Isamu mentioned it. I told him that place burnt down a couple months after your mom passed.”
“What?” She exclaims, “What the hell? Fuck, who was gonna tell me? That was the only place I really enjoyed.”
Toji can’t help but smirk at the surprise she expressed. He replies, “Been closed up for a while now,” with a shrug, “Damn shame. It was good.” 
He leans back, Nozomi knocking her eyes down as he spreads his knees, seated in a position he usually relaxed in if he wanted her to sit on his lap. It made her throat dry. 
“There’s other places to choose from. I know one. I’ll take you there.” 
She shakes her head, “That’s not necessary—“
“Get dressed.” 
His word was his bond, it always made her clutch her lips together. He was already standing, already walking away. He was never asking. With that, she pressed her lips together, a small groan falling from her mouth as she made her way back to her bedroom to put on some clothes.
He sat within his room for a while as he waited for her, knowing she would be a minute as she did her full routine. It annoyed him that he remembered that. 
He eventually stood across the door from her room, knowing she’d be out soon. When she opened it, she flew past him to get a look at herself in the full body mirror down the hall. She adjusted the tightly fitted yellow sundress she wore, a matching headband that pulled her braids out of her face, edges perfectly sculpted. She wore her contacts today, able to see the eyes that she carried from her father. She looked more stunning each time he saw her. 
She looked up to him as she pulled her white sandals on her feet, going back into the room for her purse as her soft voice asked, “Ready?”
Toji could have eaten her in this outfit, watching as she walked past him, catching her body in the mirror as she turned. The dress hugged her curves perfectly, showing off each and every bit of her he ached to touch. 
He nods in response, his voice low as he replies, “Let’s go.”
It wasn’t as cold as it usually was in Kyoto, the weather perfect for a wedding. She enjoyed being able to walk rather than drive everywhere, needing a car back in the states. Their walk was quiet, Nozomi enjoying the trees, nature, the colorful buildings. She walks beside him for a while, watching as the cars bustle on the street beside her. 
“Uh…do you know where we’re going?” She questions him, looking to the side of herself.
Toji’s own gaze was also fixated, watching her from the corner of his eye, studying the small habits he missed, the way she observed her surroundings so intently. The way her ass looked in this dress. His hands remained in his pockets, her question earning a glance as he looked down at her.
“You askin’ if I’m taking you to some secluded area where I’m gonna’ chop you up or something?” 
His voice is low in humor, a smirk on his lips as he continues to guide her. “Be patient.”
She sighs, crossing her arms behind herself as she holds her purse in her hand, “I don’t like surprises.”
“I know that, Nozomi.” 
“I would hope the food at this place is good, my mom was picky, so it makes me picky. What if it’s nasty? I’m hungry. I’ll be sad if it’s gross,” she banters.
“You’re whining a lot today, I see.” 
“I’m just curious,” she shrugs, “Fine. I’ll shut up.” 
Toji’s eyes narrow as he notices the way cars fly past as she continues on the sidewalk, something in him annoyed with how quickly they drive by. 
“Don’t. Keep talking to me,” he says, his movement swift as he grips her by her hip, gently pulling her on the inside of the sidewalk as he now walks where the cars pass, “You’ still working on your Japanese?” 
The movement was so quick that the chill down her spine was even quicker, her entire body tingling at his rough touch. 
She nearly loses focus of his question as she swallows, “Um—still pretty shit at it, actually.”
“You’re not trying enough,” his tone low, “‘Can’t speak the language but you’ve lived here. You are Japanese.” 
“Half,” she reminds, “My dad always said that I didn’t ‘look the part’ anyways. Ami always fit for him, her Japanese is award worthy.”
“I’m not talking about looks,” he mutters, rolling his eyes, “I’m talking about heritage. You’re still half, that means something. Your father should have been proud to know you speak his language. It’s annoying hearing you struggle.”
“Then how about you teach me, Mr. I know Everything? I understand you perfectly fine! That should count for something,” she begins to walk a little faster, hips twisting as she becomes slightly agitated with him.
Toji follows after her, his own stride matching as he easily keeps up. He scoffs, shaking his head at her words as he replies, “You don’t understand half the shit I tell you. You’ make this face when you’re confused, it’s cute.”
“Whatever,” Nozomi mutters, now actually irritated.
 As they continue to walk, she notices a small boutique, the dark purple font on the sign above bringing her instant nostalgia. She gasps, “Oh my god, this is the boutique my mom used to take me and Ami too! I can’t believe it’s still here…” 
She can’t help it, but she’s already pulling on the door handle, making her way inside in full curiosity.
Upon entering, she’s met with various traditional kimonos and dresses, a familiar scent filling her senses. Toji is immediately behind her, observing the entire shop as she takes it in. He can already tell that the nostalgia is overwhelming, watching as she walks around the place, her hands gently touching some of the dresses.
She looks along the wall of the shop, seeing all the Sanrio theme plushies and characters, blossoming different colors within her eyes. She felt like a child all over again. She nearly gives herself an asthma attack when she sees a particular plushie—she thought she was gonna faint. 
“Holy shit,” she mutters, pointing upwards, “You see that one? This is a Hello Kitty collectible,” she describes. His eyes follow up to what looks to be a toffee complexioned Hello Kitty, wearing a pink and red Kimono, a matching pink flower within its head. It was the biggest one of all, nearly as big as Nozomi’s entire body. 
“I literally cried all day because my mom wouldn’t buy it for me. She refused because Ami wanted one that looked like her, and because they didn’t have a collectible in her skin tone, my mom didn’t want her to feel left out. So neither of us got anything. The fact that it’s still here is insane.” 
She comes close to it, trying to squint at the price tag on its side as she mutters, “Wonder how much it is…”
“Wanna ask?” Toji questions. 
She turns with a frown, “I can ask, thank you.” 
She surprises him a bit as her tone changes, inquiring the price of the plushie as she asks within his native tongue. He couldn’t understand what she meant when she said her Japanese was shit, she sounded incredibly normal to him. Sexy, even. He wanted to hear her speak it again. 
She blinks as the woman responds, looking to Toji as she repeats back in English, “Thirty-Eight thousand yen? What is that in American dollars?”
“Shit is like three hundred dollars,” Toji replies back to her, watching as her jaw nearly drops.
“Oh hell, I don’t want it that bad,” she sighs, “Ugh. It’s so cute. My pockets will cry. Oh well.” 
She says thank you to the woman, “Let me look at these dresses for a second, then we can go,” her shoulders are a bit more slump as she searches the rest of the store, almost feeling defeated. 
As she continued to look around, her attention was along a dark brown Kimono, a pair of colors she’d never seen before. She doesn’t hear Toji speak to the woman, pointing towards the wall of plushies. She only ever realizes what he’s doing when the woman pulls down the large collectible she wanted, bringing it to the register. 
“What are you doing?” She questions from the other side of the store, nearly tripping as she makes her way back to him.
Toji can tell by her expression that she had completely given up on the possibility of leaving with that stupid doll. It was endearing, seeing the disappointment in her eyes. 
“Buying this stupid ass doll.”
He begins reaching for his wallet, pulling the wad of cash out as her eyes widen, placing her hand over his to stop him as she awkwardly speaks towards the woman, telling her not to worry about it, “No, you are not buying me that.”
Toji glances over at her as she speaks, smacking his lips at her. The woman behind the cash register pauses for a moment, looking between the two of them. 
“Didn’t you just want this shit two seconds ago?” 
Nozomi’s eyebrows furrow, “Yes—“
“So shut up.” 
When she goes to protest, the look he gives her makes her hands halt, pressing her lips together as she puts her hands behind her back. 
The older lady giggles, Nozomi understanding her as she asks if she wants a gift bag. Toji shakes his head, “She’ll hold it.” 
When he looks back to see her still standing with a perplexed expression, still shocked that he even bought it, he snaps her out of her trance as he says, “Take the damn doll from her before I choke you with it.” 
She smacks her lips now, politely thanking the woman as she has to wrap both arms around the plushie, it being a little heavy. She doesn’t know how to feel, but as he grumpily waits for the receipt, a small smile comes to her face.
When they make it to the restaurant, the lights on the streets begin to come on, the buildings and billboards bright to her eyes. She missed this feeling, almost like a child feeling Christmas air. Her plushie sits beside her in its own individual chair, Toji sitting across from her as he pulls a cigarette from his pocket, swiftly igniting it as they wait for someone to take their order. Nozomi looks down at the menu, not sure where to take the conversation. 
They’d been getting along, it was no harm in that. She couldn’t be a bitch after he spent three-hundred dollars on something she’d always wanted. 
She exhales as she looks around the crowded restaurant, looking back to him as she begins, “So…do you still live in the states, or did you move back here?”
Toji’s dark eyes remained on her while she looked around at the restaurant, his gaze always observant. He noticed how her eyes seemed to brighten at the view outside, how her mood completely changed after getting her silly doll. 
He takes a puff of his cigarette before replying, “Moved back home. Got sick of it.” 
“Sick of it? I thought you liked New York. I thought you enjoyed being a body-guard, kicking people's asses and getting paid for it,” she mentions, giving a polite smile to the man that hands her the drink she ordered.
Toji’s eyes follow her polite smile before watching her take a sip, replying as he rests an arm lazily along the back of the booth. 
“I did enjoy it. I just don’t like the people out there. New Yorkers are a pain in the ass,” he scoffs before puffing his cigarette again, continuing, “Why do it there when I can kick people's asses here and still get paid for it?”
That makes a small laugh come from her, something he hadn’t heard in a long time. She crosses her leg, leaning back within the seat as she questions, “When did you and Suguru become so close?” 
Toji’s eyes watch her body shift, taking another pull from his cigarette as her question registers in his head. 
“I’ve known the bastard since high school, but we got closer once I moved back. I thought it was funny he fell in love with your other half,” he pauses, looking at her with a smirk, “He’s a big ass softie now. Whipped, even.”
That makes her eyebrow raise, “So your perception of someone in love is being whipped, huh? Makes sense.”
Toji narrows his eyes at her snarky response, taking a moment to reply, “You’ still need me to choke you with your friend over there? I hope she isn’t ordering too, I’m good on money, but that’s pushing it.” 
She rolls her eyes as he adds with a serious tone, “And I didn’t say that. A man should respect his woman, I’ve just never seen him this way.”
“Well I think it’s adorable. Love should be all mushy and gross, that’s how you know it’s genuine. Makes me wonder what I’m doing wrong,” she admits, swirling her straw around in her cup, “I’m really happy for her.”
Toji’s expression doesn’t change as she responds, his cigarette hanging idly between his lips as his arm is still resting along the booth. 
He looks at her, really looks at her, a thought coming to his mind as he suddenly responds, “You’re not doing anything wrong.” 
He pauses, taking another pull before he changes the subject, “You spoke to your dad?”
That question almost startles her brain. She thought for a second that she could forget he’d be at the rehearsal dinner. She hadn’t seen him in two years. She kneels into the menu as she tries to deflect, “How do I tell the waiter I want this?”
Toji sees right through her, knowing exactly what she’s trying to do. He’s observant of a lot of her tendencies. He knows she’s avoiding talking about her father, and knows that she’s trying to forget. 
He’s not going to let her. 
“Show me what you want,” he mutters gruffly, nodding to the menu in her hand.
“Mmm, maybe I’ll just get ramen,” she tries to distract him. 
He eyes her as he suggests, “You can try the Sashimi.”
She scrunches up her nose, “I don’t think I’m in the mood for raw fish. No thank you.”
“You eat sushi all the time, baby. The fish is just cut differently,” he explains, ignoring the way she rolls her eyes.
He puffs his cigarette before speaking again, “Stop avoiding the subject and answer my question. Did you call him yet?”
She pulls back, letting him have the menu as she says, “I’ll see him at the rehearsal dinner. No need to call.”
“Bullshit,” he mutters, tossing the menu to the side, “He’s your father, of course you should call him.” Toji puts out his cigarette, now giving her his full attention.
“Oh hell, here you go with your family matters bullshit. I don’t need a therapy session. You don’t talk to your family either, Fushiguro,” she points out.
Toji’s expression drops at her mention of his family, something shifting in his eyes now. 
“Not the same thing, you know that.”
“Maybe,” she shrugs, “What am I supposed to say? Hey, thanks for cheating on my mom while she was sick, and then only being there to agree on pulling the plug on her? How’s your new bitch? Oh, did you figure out a tie for the wedding?” She tilts her head, sarcasm laced in her voice.
“Maybe say all that shit, it’s better than nothing. He still loves you.”
“Yeah, because I’m his daughter. Plus—it’s not my wedding, Dr. Phil.  It’s Ami’s and he loves her to death. Would do anything for her, she’s always been Daddy’s little girl,” she flatly says, “This isn’t about me.”
He shakes his head as he begins, “You don’t have to take the backseat to everything or be a doormat all the time. This is about you.” 
He moves closer, “It doesn’t matter who’s getting married. He’s your family, too. You think he doesn’t notice that you avoid him?”
“The phone is a two way street, if he wanted to speak to me that badly, he would’ve,” she crosses her arms over her chest, becoming uncomfortable with the conversation.
“Yeah, it’s a two way street. So why haven’t you called him in the entire two years? It goes both ways.”
“Because he hasn’t called me.” 
“So it’s a competition now?” 
“Fushiguro,” she warns.
Toji continues to glare her down, not backing off. 
“It’s not a competition. I’m just trying to understand your logic, or lack of,” he explains, “You keep saying the phone is a two way street. You haven’t called him either, but are pissed at him for not calling you, shit is ass-backwards.”
Her leg begins shaking beneath the table, not necessarily upset with him. The overall topic has her frustrated. Her attention is drawn back to him when Toji sees the tension in her movements, knowing that his persistent questions have stressed her. He grips her ankle gently to stop her from moving, his large hand wrapping completely around it as he places her leg on his lap. 
“All I’m trying to say is you should talk to him,” he says again, the firmness in his voice fading.
When she realizes that she’s only making herself upset, she stops. She had to face her father, and it would be happening tonight. It didn’t have to be a bad interaction, she just wished he never made the decisions he did.
 She looks down at the table as she then admits, “I love my father. But I hate what he did to our family.”
A small silence comes between them, his hand still loosely holding her ankle. 
“You don’t have to forgive him,” he finally says, “But don’t forget that he loves you. Even with his shitty decisions.”
She looks up at him, realizing his sincerity. The silence is filled as the waitress comes back, sitting down her bowl of ramen, also sitting down a plate of perfectly placed fish—raw, as she mentioned she didn’t like. 
Her arms are still holding onto her chest, realizing that for the sake of this weekend, maybe she needed to make a change. She sits up as she reaches for the chopsticks, dipping a piece of the fish into the soy sauce and popping it into her mouth. She chewed for a moment before tilting her head, “Seems like you don’t always have bad taste.”
He’s glad that she was able to open up a little bit, to talk about her family. As annoying as it was, he was beginning to worry about how she would deal with tonight. 
“See? If you weren’t so hard headed, shit would be much easier for you.” 
“Yeah, yeah. Stop talking to me.”
“Want me to feed you?—“ 
“Not too much, Fushiguro. I’m being nice to your ass right now.” 
“My bad.” 
She was afraid that their time together would be awkward, but it was the complete opposite. It was extremely natural, maybe even a little romantic. It was unfortunately creating that flipping feeling in her stomach. The one she felt if he even spoke to her, catered to her, adorned her—made her feel like she was his again. She pushed down that rush of emotions as they exited the restaurant, seeing the text from Isamu on Toji’s phone to let them know they needed to be on time to the rehearsal dinner. 
“Shit,” she mutters, “We might be late. Is there a quicker way to get back to our place from here?”
“Down this hill,” he refers, holding the large plushie in his own arm as she was too tired to carry it. 
As they continue walking, she realizes he refers to the road with a large downward path as a “hill,” and it makes her laugh to herself.
As they begin making their way down the lit up street, something within her feels giddy, and she can’t help herself. 
“Race you!” 
She’s already beelining down the road. Her body zigzags on the street as she takes off. She knew there was a small competitive bone in his body, no words as she heard his footsteps already booming behind her. Nozomi shrieks into giggles as he grips her up by her bottom half, throwing her over his shoulder as he continues running. 
She was happy and laughing, a sound he enjoyed hearing. He never wanted it to stop.
When he slowed down and was now walking, she huffed over his shoulder as she strained, “I guess this is better than walking,” gripping for her plushie to hold within the air.
Toji chuckled to himself as he felt her squirm in his hold, holding her tight so she wouldn’t fall, “You’re just upset that I always win,” he muttered with a grin, feeling her arms reaching for the plushie, pulling her up a bit so she could hold it.
Her eyes take sight of the city, another pang to her heart. She missed it here. It brought back so many memories within her childhood. Her eyes halt as she catches sight of a bridge farther down, patting his back as she says, “Hold on,” feeling as he places her down. 
She fixes her dress and hair as she catches her breath, looking over the bridge as she sees a rare sight—A cherry blossom tree. 
“They’re so pretty at night,” she sighs, “I’d kill for these in the states.”
Toji watches her as she takes in the scenery, now standing beside her. 
“I didn’t realize how much you missed Japan.” 
He looks out over the river, agreeing with her statement, “Yeah… shit is nice to look at, always has been.” 
It was then that Toji seen her shiver, his eyes glancing down as she attempted to cover her arms. 
“You cold?”
“I didn’t realize it’d be cold tonight, it was pretty warm earlier,” she says, a shiver exhaling from her mouth, “I’m fine.”
“Yeah, no. You’re not.” 
Toji slips off his leather jacket, placing it around her shoulders as he murmurs, “Stubborn ass.”
She huffs out a laugh, seeing her warm breath in the air. She’s now turned towards him as he pulls the jacket to cover her body, her head tilted up to stare in his face, his frame hovering over hers. It was at this moment that she saw him—she hadn’t looked at him this way in a while.
He meets her gaze, his face much closer to hers than just a few seconds prior. The air between them has changed, the shift is palpable. Toji watches as she shudders again, the movement making her body press closer against him. The sight makes him feel protective.
“Toji, I—“
“I’m sorry.” 
She frowns, her eyebrows coming over her eyes as she’s confused. Her stomach tumbled at his sudden apology, and she wanted to beg that it wasn’t for their past. 
“I fucked up, Nozomi. I should’ve never hurt you the way I did.” 
This is the conversation she’d been avoiding. Her throat tightens. 
“Toji…”
Toji sees the mix of emotions in her expression, his own heart feeling heavy as he continues to look in her eyes. 
“I was a dumbass. I know that. I never should have—“ he pauses, feeling his throat constrict from the emotions now bubbling up, “Never should have done what I did, and I know my actions will never undo the pain I caused.” He sighs, voice lowering, “I just need you to know that you mean a lot to me. That never changed.”
She’s unsure of how to feel. He was always too stoic for his own good, never able to say his feelings, and here he was—completely transparent and vulnerable. She couldn’t keep fighting how she felt. She missed him. She wanted to forgive him. 
Toji’s phone then buzzes. Her eyes lowered to see KIM appear on the screen. The message read, ‘Where are you? Hurry back for dinner! It’s boring here without you.’
That was the icing on the cake. It brought back the anger she felt, why she was pissed with him in the first place. All her emotions went sinking into the back of her mind. 
She gives a humorless laugh, removing his jacket and handing it to him as she says, “That must’ve meant something to you too,” referring to his text. 
She begins walking, regardless of how cold she is, “C’mon. They’re looking for us.”
He frowns as her attitude takes a 180 turn, the moment of vulnerability gone as she hands him back his jacket.  Fuck. 
“Nozomi—“
But it’s too late, she’s already walking farther into the night. That was the end of the conversation. For now, at least.
When they arrive back at the house, she feels completely empty. The moment she opened up to him, possibly ready to have a conversation and move forward, it was all ruined. She didn’t know who to blame. Her stubbornness, his idiocy, or the bitch her sister called a friend. She was trying to keep it cute, but even this was too cute for her. 
Her look for the night was more simple this time, a halter top dress, doing her makeup softer than she usually would, her sister requesting her bridal party wear white. Her golden heels with white orchids along the top, braids swimming down to her lower back—feeling pretty might’ve made her feel better for the night to come. 
She came downstairs with everyone else, more to herself this time, especially when she saw Kim talking to Toji in the corner. His black button up was similar to her brothers, silver watch along his wrist and chain matching the jewelry he wore along his neck. 
Her attention was caught by her sister who pulled her arm for her attention as she asked, “You were damn near late, where have you been?” 
“I was just running errands, I’m sorry.”
Ami looks her up and down, “You missed the fitting for your dress. Kim has been calling you all day!”
“What?” She frowns, “I never got any calls from Kim. Why didn’t you just call me?”
“I didn’t have my phone on me, I was fitting for my dress too. It’s fine, let’s just hope you fit your dress.” 
She knew Ami, seeing she was trying not to be upset. But she knew she was. Her eyes flicked over to Kim, and she thought about ripping her dress off and choking her with it.
Everyone made their way into the limousine as they arrived at the rehearsal dinner, and just as they pulled in front did Nozomi realize something— her father was here.
She couldn’t focus. Although the venue was gorgeous and looked like something you’d see in a movie, her palms began to sweat. Most of Suguru’s family had already arrived, her side of the family there as well. She greeted everyone with absentminded hugs and cheek kisses. 
The usual conversations, ‘I’m sorry to hear about your mom’, ‘Why aren’t you married yet?’, ‘You and your sister look nothing alike,’ ‘You sure you both have the same father?’. It was unbearable, but she was used to it.
When she got down to the final family member, that’s when she saw…him. 
A traditional man, stoic and frightening, the only smile she’d ever seen on his face was if he saw her sister, or her mom, but he was different when it came to her. She follows behind Ami as she hears her sister call him, ‘Otosan’ an affectionate term, bowing respectfully. She then says, “Hi, Pa. I missed you,” pulling him into a hug.
He holds Ami to his chest, giving her a tight squeeze. 
“I missed you too, my love.”
He releases her gently, his eyes shifting over to Nozomi as she stands beside her sister. He looks her up and down for a moment, studying her appearance. This was the moment of truth. 
“Nozomi,” he says, “You look beautiful as ever.”  He holds his arms out, asking for a hug.
She doesn’t expect him to be happy to see her, nor was he an affectionate man. They hadn’t spoken in two years. She bows first as before she greets, “Hi, Pa,” taking in his hug, wrapping herself around him tighter than she thought she would.
He wraps his arms tightly around her shoulders, and it feels… strange.
“My sweet girl…” 
He sighs lowly, “Too beautiful for your own good. Still not married? You know the family is getting worried…”
“Pa,” she brushes off, “I’m fine. This is Ami’s day, we can talk about my loneliness later.”
He laughs, feeling the familiarity. It was like nothing had changed. 
“You’re still stubborn as ever, I see.” 
He pats her back before releasing her, looking her up and down once more. 
“You’ve grown more, you look… different,” he says, “Just like your mother.”
The sentence made her heart ache, and she immediately felt tears wanting to brim her eyes. She quickly blinks them away, humming in response. The sweet moment is vastly interrupted as a woman appears. She was smaller in frame between her and her sister, but was definitely older in age. 
She bows affectionately to them as she greets, “It’s nice to formally meet you, Nozomi. Your father has told me so much about you.”
Nozomi holds back her frown, “Uh—nice to meet you as well, and you are?”
“This is Yua,” her father says, smiling from ear to ear, “My wife.” 
Nozomi blinks, “Oh…wife. You got married two years later…” she stopped herself, it wasn’t the time. Her sister clutched her arm to also shut her up. 
She looks at the woman, “It’s nice to meet you, Yua. I’m gonna go find my seat.”
Yua smiles kindly, a sweet tone in her voice, “Oh of course, enjoy yourself tonight.” 
One thing about her father—and maybe where she got it from—he wasn’t afraid to talk shit about anybody, including his own daughter. 
Her father clears his throat once Nozomi is walking away, sighing out, “That girl still has a mouth on her.” 
“You can’t blame her,” Yua says, looking up at him, “She’s probably still hurt.”
“She’s twenty-seven, it’s time for her to stop pouting like a child.”
She hears the small banter between the two, clutching her fist as she sits next to her Isamu at a round table that’s also accompanied by Kim, and Toji. The interaction between her and her father didn’t go entirely bad, but the comments he made still showed who he was, and now sitting close to Kim and Toji, this night still didn’t feel too good.
As soon as Toji notices her at the table, his eyes are glued to her. 
He had never realized how stubborn she really was. 
That was probably one of the reasons why he liked her so much.
“You okay?” Her brother asks. 
She looks up at him, “Yeah, fine.” 
“I saw you talked to dad.” 
She blinks, “Yeah. I did.”
The night is filled with conversations and laughs, Toji watching as Nozomi becomes more and more irritated. 
This rehearsal was becoming a little too much for her as time continued to pass. She felt like this dinner wouldn’t end, her attention coming along Kim who stood at the stage, clinking a small silverware against her champagne glass.
All eyes turned to her, the table quiet as Kim began to speak, “Thank you all for coming out tonight!”
The room responds with applause, everyone anticipating her speech. Kim smiles sweetly— the type that looks fake to Nozomi, but was entirely convincing to everyone else. 
She smiles, “I just wanted to give a little speech for the couple. The love they share started the moment they looked at each other, and they’ve been an unbreakable pair ever since.” 
The entire room is silent, everyone listening to her every word. Toji could see the anger in Nozomi’s face, her eyes almost burning a hole in Kim’s existence.
“I’m so honored to create the dream that you’ve always wanted, your perfect wedding. And as the woman closest to you,” she looked directly at Nozomi, “I’m so happy to call you my sister.” 
Nozomi thrashes her tongue within her cheek, listening as everyone claps, looking over to her sister's table as she gives a smile, which pisses her off even more.
When the speech is over, she stands from the table as she holds her dress up, going over to the open bar they had as she requested, “Got anything brown?”
The bartender nods, “Certainly. What kind?” 
He makes her a vanilla crown and Coke as requested.  She takes it like a shot. The moment she feels at ease when the drink pours down her throat, it’s like a cloud begins to shadow her sun, and here she is standing in front of her—Kim.
“Are you having fun? You barely talked to anyone tonight,” she feigns a frown, “What’s the matter?” 
She leans against the bar, her elbow perched on the counter top.
“I’m fine, Kim,” she brushes off, not ready for her bullshit. But as she takes the last sip of her drink, she has another thought, “Actually, my sister said there was a fitting for everyone’s dress today. Why wasn’t I told about that?”
Kim’s eyes widened faintly, a playful chuckle rolling off her tongue, “Oh, that?” 
She taps her manicured nails against the top of the counter, shrugging as she does so. 
“I must’ve forgotten to tell you,” she grins, “My bad.”
“Of course you did. You’re good at that little thing you do. Being all cute, acting like you’re not an insolent bitch on the inside. Maybe on the outside,” she tilts her head, giving her the same grin in return, watching as her face fell at her words.
She’s startled a bit at Nozomi’s truth. She thinks quickly on her feet as she takes a step forward, “I think the drink is going to your head, love.”
“Maybe. You should order something for yourself as well! But I suggest you wait until I walk away, cause my hand holding this glass is feeling a little itchy, and you might have a headache further into the night.” 
When she expects Kim to simply go back and forth with her, she suddenly shouts, “You’re gonna do what to me?” 
The calculated bitch, she was purposely causing a scene.
Ami, Toji and her brother came running over as Ami questioned, “What’s going on?” 
“Nozomi just threatened to hit me over the head with a glass! I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you’re scaring me!” Kim presses her hand to her chest, Oscar worthy acting as her hand shakes. 
“What?” Ami looks at Nozomi, “Did you say that?” 
“No!” Nozomi defends, “Well, yes. But not for no reason!”
“Nozomi, what the hell?” Her brother says, “What is going on? Why are you threatening Kim?”
“This bitch just said that she purposely didn’t call me for our dress fitting today!” She exclaims. 
“I would never do that,” Kim defends herself, “I called you a thousand times. You just didn’t answer. I’m sorry, Nozomi.”
“Are you serious?” She blinks, “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you—“ she goes forward, Isamu stepping in front of her. 
Ami then cuts off,  “Enough, Nozomi. I have been trying to be patient with you since you got here, but this is too much! Doing this at my rehearsal dinner? Making a scene? What the hell is wrong with you?” 
“What the hell is wrong with me? Ask your fucking friend that! Oh, better yet, your new sister! You’re seriously gonna’ blame me for this? When am I ever gonna be taken seriously, and not some fucking drama Queen?”
Everyone in the area is shocked by the commotion, the guests at the rehearsal dinner turning and whispering from their seats.
Ami’s face contorts with anger, “I always take you seriously, but look at what you’re doing right now! I’m constantly at your defense! But you’re acting like a fucking child!”
That.  
It always led back to her being the youngest. Nozomi laughed sharply, “Great. I’m a child. I’m over here pulling myself together on account of your goddamn wedding. Forcing me to be cool with your idiotic ass friend who fucked my man, and is still fucking him to this day! Not only that, forcing me to be here with him! The one who fucked your idiotic ass friend in the first fucking place, because I wouldn’t fuck him! Making me be cordial with my father who I wasn’t ready to forgive, because he fucked his new bitch behind our dying mother’s back—I’m doing all this for you! I’m holding it together for you! And I’m a fucking child? How about you wanting everything your way, but pissed off the minute something goes wrong? That’s a fucking child!” 
“What?” Toji then comes in, “‘The fuck are you talking about?” 
“Don’t be dense. I heard you fucking her the first night I came!” 
Toji blinks, confusion not even the word. His eyes narrow as he says, “I didn’t fuck Kim. This is my first time seeing her since you mom’s funeral, and since I left the states. I left right after you broke shit off with me.” 
Nozomi blinks, now equally confused. 
“What?” 
Isamu then smacks his lips, “Jesus,” chiming in to clear the air, “I was fucking Kim, okay? Toji and her only fucked around that one time.” 
That makes everyone’s eyes bulge out—including Kim’s—now realizing that this was all one big misunderstanding. 
“You’re fucking Kim? Ew!” Nozomi starts, “Seriously? Jesus Christ. When the fuck did you even have time to leave that orchid at my door?” 
“I left that orchid at your door,” Toji then clarifies, “It was supposed to be an apology. I wanted to talk to you, but you stormed back into your room and I didn’t want to piss you off more.” 
Nozomi takes all of this in. She doesn’t know what to say.
There wasn’t anything to say at this point, nor did she want to say anything else. With that, Nozomi does everyone a favor as she exits out of the building, finding her way back to the house. This had been a rehearsal dinner like no other. 
                       ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.  𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.  𐦍༘⋆
THE NEXT MORNING WAS SILENT, which was unfortunate. It was supposed to be a beautiful day, Ami’s wedding day—everyone was supposed to be excited. But it felt like the complete opposite. The morning was quiet. Nozomi had a lot on her mind, but all of her other bullshit could be figured out later—she needed to make things right with Ami. 
The house had been cleared of all the men as they had to get ready at the venue, the bridal party now on their way to the house, Ami within her room as the makeup artist was also on the way. 
Nozomi quietly slid the door open to her room as she asked, “Can I come in?”
Ami glanced over at the door, a frown on her face, still upset from the previous night. She sighs before nodding softly, “Yeah, you can come in…”
She slides the door closed, standing along the wall. She tries to collect her thoughts, her words. Instead of jumping into the drama, she asks, “How are you feeling? Ready to be Mrs. Getou?”
Ami smiles, her anger softening as her eyes meet her sisters. She lets out a small yawn before nodding slowly, a tired smile on her face. 
“I’m nervous…” Ami admits, “A little too nervous, honestly…”
“It’s no need to be nervous. He loves you, even if you have a crazy ass family,” she tries to poke, “Today’s gonna be an amazing day for you. It already is. It’s filled with love.”
Ami laughs, the comment causing her to snort quietly, “You’re damn right about that. But I’m still a little mad at you…”
Nozomi sighs, “Look, I’m so sorry about last night, Ami. It wasn’t supposed to go like that. I was telling the truth, Kim purposely didn’t call me for the fitting, you know I wouldn’t have missed something as important as that. When she admitted it to me, I just…mushed her being a bitch to her fucking Toji, and I kinda spiraled. You can choose who you want to be friends with, I just don’t like how she treats me,” Nozomi softly admits, looking down to the floor.
Ami sighs, her expression softening. She knew that it hadn’t been entirely her sister's fault, even though she had been the one to cause the scene in the first place. 
“Listen, I’m not mad at you, okay? I wasn’t ever mad at you, I just hate how you never think anything through before doing it. You’ve always been that way, and you need to work on it.” 
Ami stands from the bed, walking over to Nozomi, wrapping her into a tight hug, “I love you, okay?”
“More than Kim?” She questions, trying to make another joke, “I really don’t like that hoe, seriously.”
A soft laugh tumbles from Ami’s lips, a snort following that, “Yes, more than Kim.” 
She pinches her sister's cheek, pulling her head back, “You gotta’ relax, okay? Today is my day, so keep your cool, yeah?”
“Scouts honor,” Nozomi promises, raising her hand up, “I don’t know why you didn’t just make Kim your maid of honor, no shade.”
Ami laughed, “Oh hell no. I want you to be part of the special moment,” She crosses her arms, “She can just stand over there and look pretty like every other bridesmaid.”
Nozomi rolls her eyes, “Yeah. Like a Disney villain.”
“Sidebar—where did you go yesterday?” Her sister then asks. 
Dammit. She was hoping she wouldn’t ask this question. She closes her eyes as she admits, “Don’t freak out. I went out with Toji—“
The squeal was already releasing from her lips, “Oh my god! Y’all are in love again! Wedding bells, are those wedding bells I hear?” 
“Ami.”
“Oh my goodness, he bought you that big ass plushie in your room! That’s the one you wanted mom to get you! I knew your frugal ass didn’t pay thirty-eight thousand yen for that!” 
“Ami.—“ 
“And he gave you an orchid to apologize, cause you love orchids! Oh my god, I’m gushing. I’m blushing!” 
“Jesus Christ, are you done?” Nozomi squints, “It was nothing. He probably thinks I’m crazy now after I accused him of fucking Kim again. But what else was I supposed to think? I probably just fucked everything up.”
Ami rolls her eyes, grabbing Nozomi’s shoulders, her gaze firm as she says, “Listen. You did not mess everything up. If he loved you then, he probably loves you even more now. You just need to apologize to him…after the wedding. Don’t make it about you, okay? Focus on the love we’re all sharing today, alright?”
She nods her head, “Got it.”
Ami smiles, bringing Nozomi into another tight hug, “Good, now go get your hair and makeup done, the artists will be here in an hour, and you’ve gotta’ look the best you can today, alright? You’re my maid of honor, you gotta’ look like the bottom bitch next to the head honcho!” 
“You’re a mess.”
“Not as much as you. It’s really my wedding day, eeeeek!”
They were thankful to have gotten up early, giving just enough time to do everything without feeling rushed. Nozomi of course did Ami’s hair, agreeing with her request to style it within a low bun pulled back to frame her face, sculpting her edges perfectly, adding her favorite flowers within the claw clip holding her hair together. The soft makeup along her expression brought her face out more than heavy makeup would’ve. She was gorgeous without it. Nozomi could feel a lump in her throat about to create, not sure why she suddenly felt so emotional, but she refused to cry. 
Ami’s heart swells at the sight of her sister in the mirror, her eyes softening as she hears her words. Memories of their mother flood her mind—memories of her sitting on the couch, watching her daughters put their hair in intricate styles for dance competitions, or style their hair for a wedding. She felt a pang of sadness in her chest.
Tears start to trickle down Ami’s cheeks, and she quickly wipes at her eyes. “God, don’t make me cry,” she murmurs, “I’m gonna’ ruin my makeup.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she kisses her forehead, “Don’t cry. Don’t want you choking me cause your makeup is ruined. No more tears!” She tells her, taking deep breaths with her before she continues crying.
Ami laughs through her tears, wiping at her eyes as she nods, “Okay, okay, no more tears. Don’t make me start again.” 
The makeup artist began to retouch her face. Everything was silent for a moment before Ami clears her throat, her voice soft as she says, “Can I ask you something?”
“Hm?” 
“Do you love him—Toji, I mean?”
Nozomi looks up to the mirror, thinking about the question. She doesn’t lie to herself as she replies, “Yeah, I do. But he’ll never know that.”
Ami’s eyebrows furrow for a moment as she glances back at her sister, “Why not?” 
She turns her head, her eyes soft, “Why would you hold that in? After everything he’s done to show you how he feels, why not tell him?”
“Because today isn’t about me, remember? Now, let the makeup artist finish her job, you can’t keep talking while she does your lip liner,” she distracts, “I’m gonna go get ready.”
“I hate when you deflect,” Ami scrunches her nose, “Whatever. You’re dismissed!”
She began to see the bridesmaids' dresses as she exited the room, seeing that they were simple pink gowns, silky and strapless. They were gorgeous regardless, going to search for which one was hers. But as she continued to look, she noticed a dress hanging along the wall, her name attached to it. Her mouth gaped open. It was entirely different from the bridal parties dresses, the only similarity being the color. 
It was a gown, corseted all around, diamonds and jewels cascading the material all the way up to the top, fluff swimming along where her breast sat, mirroring along the side of her hip. 
“Fucking hell, Ami,” she mutters to herself. 
She didn’t have time to freak out about how extravagant this dress was—she had to get ready. 
She pulls her braids within a low ponytail to accentuate her dress, artistically sculpting her edges. It fits her entirely too well. Her hips struck out, the corset cinched her frame in a way that made her feel the most gorgeous she’d ever felt. When she looks within the mirror, all she can see is her mom. 
She exhales as she goes into the other room to show Ami, her jaw dropping at her older sibling. She’d never looked so… ethereal. 
Her dress was a pure white, covered with soft pearls that gave the illusion they dripped off her body, her entire frame equally corseted, material choking her tightly. 
“Ami,” Nozomi placed her hands over her mouth, not enough to ruin her own makeup, “Oh my goodness,” she became choked up, “You look…”
Ami smiles at her sibling, gently standing to keep her dress from being ruined. She looked down at herself, gently placing her hands along the dress, the gems and diamonds sparkling underneath the lights. 
“Good?” She asks her sister, her voice soft. 
“Amazing,” she promises, “Don’t be nervous. I’m so happy for you. Are you ready? We don’t wanna be late.”
“Let’s get going then, yeah?”
It’s now chaos when they arrive at the venue. None of them had yet to see what it looked like besides the bride and groom, the panic of getting into place leaving everything to a surprise once they walked out. The guests had already arrived, sitting within the white chairs that were covered with pink bows and flowers, wearing their own shades of her sister's favorite color. Here were the groomsmen, perfectly dressed in their tuxes, pink flowers within their breast pockets. They were ready, making sure they were perfectly lined up with the bridesmaid they were assigned to walk with. Ami was hidden within a back room, preparing to be the last one to walk out. 
Nozomi holds her dress as she speed walks out to where everyone else stands, seeing Suguru and Toji standing together. She hadn’t seen him since the chaos of the night before—she couldn’t help but not be happy to see him. Seeing Toji’s suit perfectly frame his broad physique, his best friend stands next to him, his long hair within a bun, tied out of his face. They looked handsome. 
“Ready?” She questions Suguru, “I can’t wait for you to see her. You’re not gonna cry, are you?”
Suguru smiles at the question, an almost embarrassed look on his face. However, he doesn’t deny it, “I’m most definitely going to cry.” 
Toji laughs, shaking his head, “Big ass dork.”
Suguru takes another deep breath before he stands by the door, preparing to walk out. Everyone now stands in place, and that meant it was time for Nozomi to get in position too. She turns to Toji whose eyes she can feel along her body as she asks, “What? Something wrong with my hair?”
Toji couldn’t deny that she looked incredible in that dress—more than incredible, breathtaking. Everything about her seemed to be amplified from the dress. 
She looked amazing, gorgeous, etc, etc.
“Words can’t describe how good you fuckin’ look right now,” he grunts within her ear, reaching out to grab for her hand, kissing her palm before he wraps it around his arm. 
That makes Nozomi‘s face go warm, turning her head back towards the ceremony. She watches as Suguru’s parents walk down the aisle, clicking that it was their turn. She didn’t know why she suddenly felt nervous. 
She nods, “Thank you. Um,” she twists the flower within his breast pocket, “Just—don’t let me fall, okay?”
Toji’s chuckle is attractive, still deep in her ear as he lowly promises, “Not a chance in hell.”
When he slides his arm down to clutch her fingers in his  own, their skin feels electrifying together. She hadn’t held his hand in so long—it felt so good. When they prepare to walk, she tugs his arm as she mutters, “Seriously, Fushiguro. Don’t let me fall. I’ll hurt you.”
His eyes glance down at hers as he promises, “You won’t fall, pretty.” 
They finally walk down the aisle, everyone’s eyes turning to them. The flower petals along the ground are being tread upon as they stroll down the walkway, Nozomi’s heart pounding within her chest. 
He squeezes her hand again, gently rubbing his thumb against her knuckles in an attempt to calm her. It works, but not by much, keeping her mind occupied as they walk.
She can now fully see the venue— cherry blossoms, the main event of it all. They all laid along the ground, pink trees floating above the chairs and guests, slumped down as petals swirled in the air each time the wind blew. She doesn’t realize how tightly she’s holding Toji’s hand, feeling a vast amount of emotions come to her, the sentiments of something as simple as a cherry blossom tree meaning so much more to her.
They finally make it to the end, and Toji releases her hand to go stand near Suguru, his nerves settling as he takes his place next to the groom. The music changes, signaling for the rest of the party to begin walking. Each bridesmaid and groom look perfect together—hell, even Kim and Isamu looked nice walking together.
Everyone giggled as one of Suguru’s younger cousins came tumbling down the aisle, throwing more flowers onto the ground, including a smaller baby boy, who followed after her, holding the rings close to his miniature tuxedo. 
It was finally the moment, the moment everyone had come for. When she appeared at the end of the aisle—a gasp came from the entire venue. Nozomi had already seen her, but seeing her here, holding her father’s arm as she began to walk, her veil that swam the ground, she hated the emotion that began smacking her around. It didn’t make it better that every bridesmaid was already crying—that was enough for her. The music that played, the way she could tell Ami herself was trying to hold back tears, it was the most special moment she had experienced.
Nozomi gripped the flowers in her hand, trying to stop the tears that poured like nothing. When she looked over to the groomsmen side—even they were crying, Suguru’s eyes were red as he couldn’t hold back his emotion. His best friend was of course behind him, rubbing his shoulder to comfort him. When Toji and Nozomi locked eyes, she gave a weak laugh, patting her own face to not mess up her makeup.
Toji couldn’t help but look at the way she was crying, his own eyes feeling soft as his chest felt heavy with an unknown emotion. His face felt warm, almost warm enough to make him tear up, but he tried his best to keep it down by looking away and trying to focus on the groom himself. 
However, every once in a while, his eyes would dart back towards her, admiring the way she looked in the soft lighting, the flower, the corseted dress, even her makeup. It amazed him. Seeing his best friend hold this much emotion towards a woman, it made him realize how much of a fuck up he was with Nozomi—he wanted to make things right.
The ceremony felt quicker than she expected, probably because she spent most of it crying. Everyone cheered and hollered as they kissed, cementing their love. It was now the reception, farther out into the trees, tables, menus, a selection of food, waitresses, anything you thought of at a high-end wedding, it was there. Everyone sat down as it was the bride and grooms first dance, seeing as they held each other tight, ‘SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK,’ by Joji filling the venue, Ami’s smile never leaving her face. 
Nozomi watched with a soft smile, kneeling on her arm. Others began joining them on the dance floor shortly after. Her attention was pulled as she heard her father’s voice behind her, “Omi’?” 
She hesitantly turns to him, “Yes, Pa?”
Her father had a wide smile on his face, his eyes soft as he placed a firm hand on his daughter’s shoulder, gently squeezing it. 
“Can I have this dance?” 
She gave him a gracious smile, “Sure.”
She took his arm, following him to the floor as she held one of his hands, the other going on his shoulder, while his hand went on her hip. They swayed slightly to the music. 
“I’m…really happy to see you, Pa’,” Nozomi tells him softly, “I’m sorry I haven’t called.I just…needed time, when mom passed. I know you wanted me to stay in Japan. But I couldn’t.”
Her father gently squeezed her hip, his eyes soft as he nodded his head, “I know.” He says, “I know it was hard. I remember how distraught you were when mom passed…it was hard on all of us. I couldn’t force you to stay in Japan. You needed some freedom after all that, and you found it in the states.”
He halts for a moment, trying to find his words as he says, “I miss your mom everyday. Despite my bad decisions. She’s always with me, just like she’s here with you.”
Despite his infidelity while their mom was sick, she knew how much he loved her. It wasn’t an excuse, but it could’ve been a way of coping with knowing she was going to pass, it was a loss for everyone. 
“I’ll do better at calling, Pa’. I promise.”
A small chuckle tumbles from her father’s lips, as he shakes his head, “No, you won’t,” he teased, “I’ll just have to keep calling you until you finally answer.”
“You know me so well,” she chuckles, continuing to sway with him. 
The moment was something she couldn’t ask for twice. To make up with her father, it brought a weight off her shoulders. She felt at peace. Maybe she needed to come back home. 
Her final conflict she had to resolve appeared, Toji stepping in as he politely asked her father, “May I?”
Her father nods gently at the man, patting his daughter on the hip one last time as Toji steps in front of her, holding his hand out. His eyes slowly drift downwards, examining the beautiful maid of honor, his chest feeling almost tight.
“There you are,” she says softly, bringing her arms around his neck, an eyebrow raising as Toji questions, “You were looking for me?” 
“Maybe.”
He places his hands on her hips, a smirk forming on his face, “You’ve been avoiding me,” he reminds, “The whole damn time. Barely said shit to me.”
“Wanted to make sure you weren’t mad at me,” she deflects, pulling his neck down, wanting him to be closer to her than he was, “The rehearsal dinner was a shitshow.”
Toji’s hands tightened on her hips as he pulled her a bit closer, their chests nearly touching. His dark gray eyes pierced into hers, almost staring into her soul.
“I’m not mad,” he mutters, “I’m used to your bullshit by now. It’s expected.”
She exhales, “That doesn’t sound like much of a compliment.” 
“Cause it isn’t.” 
The same song plays, distracting her for a moment. She rolls her eyes, “So what do you like about me then, since I’m such a problem?”
“You’re a smartass,” he stated bluntly, “A smartass that knows how to press my fuckin’ buttons. A smartass that’s stubborn as all hell. A smartass…that also happens to be the prettiest person in the fuckin’ building. The only person I see here.”
Nozomi blinks up at him, her eyes glittering underneath the lights they have within the ceiling. 
“You’ really wanna be with me?” She asks softly, knowing the answer, maybe just needing reassurance.
“Don’t ask shit you already know the answer to,” he grunts, mouth lowering closer to her ear. 
His forehead pressed against hers, Nozomi giggling as he pulled her heels along his own shoes, holding her close. This might’ve been the moment she needed from him. 
They stayed like that for a while. 
The reception is in full force, different family members dancing together, Suguru and Ami inseparable, the music and food perfect for the environment. Nozomi had found a small moment to pull her and Toji away from the reception as the newlyweds took pictures, pulling him deeper into the trees, away from all the people—away from an audience. 
She leans herself against the bark, fidgeting her hands against his tux as she rambles, “My mom actually wanted her burial to be a cherry blossom tree,” she says softly, keeping her eyes along the material of his tux.
She continues, “We didn’t know until we found her wishes hidden inside the mattress. A weird place to put it,” she laughs, but it’s weak, nothing actually funny, “I think that’s why this whole wedding has been so…emotional for me. Besides seeing my sister be in love and so happy. This entire weekend has brought so many memories for me. Things I’ve realized about myself. Things I wanna fix…”
Toji couldn’t help but watch her closely as she opened up. This was the first time in a while that she’s been so…honest. So vulnerable. 
“I don’t think I ever thanked you for the orchid you left at my door,” she says quietly, “Despite the way I treated you, you still tried. And tried, and tried…” she giggles, Toji grunting as he presses his forehead along hers. She then says, “I also haven’t apologized.“
It was as if everything that happened after that was an unfortunate cue.
 Their attention is pulled away from each other as Isamu and Kim walk up to them, her brother loud as he calls, “Yo, where y’all at? Sneaking out already?”
She tries not to be irritated with her sibling. But as she notices Kim beside him giving her the nastiest look, her blood pressure spikes. 
“Just talking,” Nozomi replies, keeping her hand along Toji’s suit. 
“Got him under your claws so I don’t get to him, I see,” Kim sharply replies, and it’s quick, so quick that Nozomi almost doesn’t catch it. 
She slightly sits herself up as she raises an eyebrow, “Excuse me?”
Kim shrugs, “You assumed I’ve just been fucking him all weekend, is my comment too far off?”
“No, actually, it isn’t. You fucked’ him before, makes no difference now. A hoe is still a hoe.”
“Who are you calling a hoe?” Kim fires off, coming closer. 
But that wasn’t a problem, Nozomi was ready to put her in a headlock as she came around Toji, “ You know what— I can blame a man for his stupidity. But what I can’t handle, is a stupid ass bitch like you that would do anything for the idiocy that is a man’s attention. You knew how I felt about Toji, and yet you fucked him anyways, and you were suppose to be my friend. You’re lucky I didn’t fuckin’ shoot you.”
“Alright, knock it the fuck off,” Toji mutters, bringing his arm around her hip, lightly pulling her back from Kim who was in arms reach of the girl. 
Kim then says, “Don’t blame me that you couldn’t keep your supposed  man in check. I wouldn’t want you either if you didn’t wanna fuck me, Ms. Holier Than Thou.” 
Yup, that was it.
Nozomi laughed humorlessly, taking a step back as she moved Toji’s arm to let him know she was calm, but it was the complete opposite. 
Her eyes quickly scanned the scenery, seeing no one else around, locking her eyes back on Kim. She steps forward, plummeting her knuckles clean into Kim’s jaw, the crack heard in the echoes of the trees, Kim immediately dropping to the ground from the impact. 
“Yo, Nozomi, what the fuck!” Isamu exclaimed. 
Kim holds the side of her face, turning to the side as she spat blood on the ground. Nozomi’s anger had seeped over her. She didn’t mean to hit her, it just happened. Her knuckles stung, but it’s unfortunate that she didn’t feel satisfied. When she lunges forward to finish her off, her feet are suddenly off the ground, Nozomi grunting as she’s being thrown over Toji’s shoulder again, being pulled away from the reception. 
“Put me the fuck down!” 
She didn’t realize how close they actually were to their family’s house, practically feeling the fire off Toji’s body. He carried her into his room, Nozomi grunting as she hit the bed, breathless as her dress was already tight. 
She glares as she sits up, “What?”
Toji was absolutely livid. He could feel the anger radiating off himself as he stepped into the bedroom, his eyes piercing into the woman on the bed. He had never seen her like this before. He didn’t have the time for her bullshit. 
“What the fuck were you thinking?” He questioned, anger laced in his voice, “You trying to get arrested at your sister's wedding?”
“I wouldn’t have gotten arrested,” she scoffed, “Don’t be dramatic. I been letting that bitch talk crazy to me all weekend. The bitch has literally been flirting with you, all up your fuckin’ ass, and you just—let her,” she spits.
“What part of I didn't reciprocate anything isn't getting through your thick ass skull?” He snapped at her, “I don’t give a fuck if she flirts with me. I wasn't interested. I only give a fuck about you.”
“Oh? So fucking her two years ago showed that you weren’t interested? You know what— let’s talk about it!” She exclaims, “Let’s just put it all out there. We were talking, it was becoming serious. Kim was my friend, a close friend at the time. Just when I was ready to bring my walls down, make things official, be with you, I find out you fucked Kim. And conveniently? It was right after I told you I wouldn’t have sex with you unless we were officially together. You couldn’t commit to me, but you could fuck her. Are we on the same page? Am I missing anything?” 
Toji's eyes darkened. The air between them was thick with tension. He never wanted to talk about this part of their relationship again, but if she was going to bring it up—he had to deal with it. 
“I could barely commit to you at the time,” he stated angrily, “You told me you wouldn't be intimate with me unless we were together. What the hell was I supposed to do?”
“Wait for me!”  She shouted back, feeling her throat becoming tight. 
“You were supposed to wait for me! You said that it wasn’t important, that you loved me! If you didn’t, you should’ve never fucking led me on! That's why I hated you. I hated you for it. You sit here now, talking about ‘what was I supposed to do’— you haven’t fucking changed!” She continues to keep her voice raised.
Her anger seeps through so quickly that she can’t help the vast punch she throws into his chest, fist shaking as she turns away from him to control herself. She wanted to be violent.
He reached out and grabbed her wrists, spinning her around to look at him. His eyes locked onto hers with a dangerous glare as he spoke, “I’ve changed. But you’re acting too fuckin’ stupid to see that. It’s like you’re looking for reasons to push me away. To end what we have.”
“Oh? You’ve changed. Typical. Say it a couple more times and maybe you’ll believe yourself. You haven’t fucking changed. You’re a bitch.” 
“Watch your fuckin’ mouth, Nozomi.” 
“Make me.” 
He could set off a bomb with the fear-inducing look he gave her, practically enraged at this point. 
“You made your bed. Be a fucking man and lay in that shit. You wanted pussy so bad you had to fuck a bitch that fucks everybody, my friend at the time. Now look at your bitch on a string, onto the next, fucking my brother when I wasn’t even worried about you. Now you wanna come back to me on some change bullshit. Fuck you.” 
“I'm not that same man anymore,” he spat, “But I guess that doesn’t matter to you, huh? No matter how much I fuckin’ change. No matter how much I try. Your stubborn ass still thinks I’m the same man I was two years ago. You haven’t changed either.”
“And how the fuck haven’t I changed?”
“You’re still the woman who runs from every single emotion. Pushing everyone away from you. You can’t even stand to deal with your own fuckin’ feelings, so it’s easier for you to push everyone out of your life. You’re weak.” 
The words hit her. Actually, hit her. It all mushes together. The loss of her mother, shutting everyone out when she needed support in her time of grief. Toji. Her father. All of it. 
The tears finally come up, dropping down her face as there’s nothing but pure malice behind her voice as she lowly spits, “Fuck you.” 
“I’m sorry I hurt you, Nozomi. I would never hurt you the way I did before.” 
“Shut the fuck up.” 
“I love you.” 
Her heart stopped, hearing those words come from him. He was gruff in his tone, but meant exactly what he said. He wasn’t gonna let her push him away. 
“No you don’t,” she says, her voice cracking as she says that, “No you don’t. Stop lying to me!” 
He comes forward, gripping her tighter by her wrist and tugging her towards him, causing her to try to yank out of his hold as she panics, “Let go of me!”
“Say it again,” he challenged, his voice a low growl, “Say that I don't love you. Say that shit again. Say that you hate me.”
“I fucking hate you!” She exclaims, her voice trembling, slamming her fist into his chest as he takes hold of her other arm, “I hate you…I hate you…” 
The tears won’t stop, and she can’t believe her own words. It gets to a point where her entire body trembles, and she throws her hands over her face, sobbing, “Let me go, Toji…”
Toji's heart tightens in his chest when he sees her crumble before him. This was the first time he’s ever really seen her break like this. He pulled her into his arms, wrapping them around her tightly as he held her against his chest, letting her cry into him. 
“Cry, baby. I want you too. Need you too. I’m here to let you.”
She felt extremely overwhelmed, covering her face to mask her embarrassment, but that quickly fades. She reaches up, wrapping her arms around his neck, clutching her fingers in his hair as she cries. 
He could feel her pain, her hurt, her anger. It practically radiated off of her. But there was one emotion that he could feel clearly. Fear. She was scared.
She didn’t want to be hurt again like the first time, she didn’t know if she could trust him with her heart again. But there was only one way she could find that out. Her crying eventually subsides, tears still along her face as she breathes into his neck, her hand still clutching within his hair.
 She says softly, “I…I love you too…”
Toji felt his breathing stop for a moment as he listened to her words. The three words he’s been wanting to hear for so long. 
“Again,” he mumbled against her skin, “Say that shit again.”
The sound of his voice. It’s different. She hadn’t heard him sound like this in a while, and when he did, it intimidated her. Sex didn’t necessarily scare her, it just scared her with him, for him to be her first. 
“I love y—“ 
It’s interrupted, Toji lowering down as he locks his mouth with hers, clutching a grip along her throat as he filthily kisses her. It’s abnormal. He wanted to entice her, he needed her.
He didn’t hold anything back as he slipped his tongue inside of her mouth, his fingers fully wrapping around her neck as a way to keep her still. He was enthralled, and he was going to show her just how badly he was. 
When he pulled his mouth back, her skin felt on fire. Her eyes blinked residuals of tears, teeth digging into her lip as he kept yanking her forward for another kiss, his mouth on her throat, her chest, her jaw, tongue dragging up her skin, aching for her. 
Her breath hitched as he picked her up, carrying her onto the bed. Her mind is spinning as he hovers over her frame, grasping her by the back of her neck and holding her up, kissing her so fiercely that it made her entire body tremble.
Toji’s mind was reeling. The feeling of her against him, her scent filling his nostrils, the way her skin felt against his lips. He felt like he was in a dream—a hazy, lustful dream. 
He pulled back from her mouth, leaving a trail of kisses down her jaw before moving to her neck. His lips left marks along her skin, wanting her to feel them the next morning when she woke up. 
She finally lets her mouth drop words out as she nervously exhales, “Fushiguro, wait…”
When her words came out with a breathlessness to them, Toji felt his mind go crazy. He pulled back, his hot breath fanning against her skin as he locked his eyes on hers. 
“What?” He questioned in a low tone, his gaze flicking down to her lips as he waited for her to speak.
“You know I haven’t…” she feels embarrassed, “I just…I don’t want to look stupid.”
Toji’s expression softened as he heard her words. He knew her concern, he understood it. But in his eyes, she was anything but stupid. She was perfect. 
“You won’t,” he assured her, his hand moving up to grip her chin, “You don’t look stupid. Let me take care of you.”
She blinks. Her hand slowly reaches back for his hair, nodding her head as she asks him quietly, “Can you…kiss my neck again? It…It felt nice.”
A low grunt of approval rolled from his lips as he heard her request. He leaned in, hovering just above her skin, teasing her, watching her reaction as he finally planted his lips along her neck, right under her ear. The feeling makes her breath hitch, her head kneeling back slightly to rush off the burn she gets from his mouth. 
He left a trail of kisses down to her collarbone, his tongue slowly dragging along one part of her skin in the most torturous way. She shifts beneath him, her chest rising, trying to appear normal—but her skin is buzzing.
He nips at the skin just below her collarbone, and that’s when he hears a sound that sets him absolutely off. 
A gasp. It escapes from her lips as she tries to bite it back. The sound makes his ears go crazy, and he’s instantly driven by one thing now. More.
The dress she wears instantly feels tighter. She’d been around Toji many times, but never fully naked. She kneels her head up, mouth close to his as she murmurs, “Need to um…take my dress off…”
“I know.” 
Her throat goes dry as he flips her body over beneath him, effortless as if she weighed nothing. He begins unzipping the dress, sliding his hand inside the material, his mouth now along the back of her neck. He uses his free hand to grip her hair, fisting it into a ponytail beneath his palms as the dress hits the ground with a thud. Her entire body was now bare to him from behind, only being covered by the ballerina pink thong she wore.
Her skin was like fine porcelain, smooth and delicate. He could see some ink that stretched along her skin, and he instantly was curious to see all of it later. For now, he would leave those questions for another time. His mouth trailed up along her neck before he whispered into her ear. 
“I wanna hear my name from your mouth.” He demanded lowly. “Need to hear it.”
He still holds her hair within his fist, his mouth along her skin again, now along her spine, causing her eyes to flutter closed, unable to respond just yet, only arching her back to show she enjoyed the feeling. Chills rushed down her body as he locked his fingers around her ankle, twisting her towards being on her back again. His mouth was now crawling on the back of her thigh. 
She shivered, a reaction coming from her as she gasped softly, “T—Toji, w—wait—“ 
Yet he didn’t stop, grunting as he continued making out with her leg, dragging his lips across her skin, running his tongue up to reach the back of her foot, repetitively making her lower body throb in a way she hadn’t felt before, like she needed something from him.
Toji was drunk with the feeling of her beneath him. His lips were famished on her skin, marking her up in places that he knew no one would see. When she was now on her back, Nozomi couldn’t help but press her arm over her breasts, her other hand pressing in between her legs to cover herself. She wasn’t insecure in her body, but this was the first time he’d officially seen her naked. She felt…shy.
“Nah, don’t cover yourself from me,” he grunts, “I wanna see my woman.” 
Toji felt her shiver underneath him. He had to taste more of her, to see what else he could make her react to.
His mouth trailed up her leg, lingering near her core. His expression made her entire lower body warm. He leaned forward, darting his tongue out to tease her clit through the fabric of her panties. A low growl came from him in response as he felt her tense underneath him. He lifted his head, looking up at her with a smirk as he tugged her panties to the side, revealing her wet opening to him.
"You're so fuckin’ wet already,” he groaned. 
Her legs nearly locked together when he gave her clit the softest kiss, admiring the pink nub. Her pussy was pretty. Just for him. Leaning back down to lick at her folds, his tongue swirled around her clit before he sucked it into his mouth.
Nozomi’s body shuddered, the feeling almost ticklish, like she wanted to push him away. He instantly locked his hands along the back of her thighs, pressing her knees against the bed as he grunted, nudging his mouth farther into her clit, a slurping sound creating at the way his lips moved. Her hand went to grip his hair if she couldn’t escape, a soft gasp leaving her lips as she whimpered, “Toji…”
The moment she called out his name, Toji felt something stir within him. It wasn't just lust anymore, it was desire. A need to claim her, to mark her as his own.
He continued eating at her, his tongue delving deeper into her folds as he tasted every inch. His hands tightened around her thighs as he held her open for himself, letting her feel his hot breath fan across her sensitive flesh.
"Fuck...you taste even better than I imagined," he murmured, his voice muffled as he dragged his entire mouth along her core, Nozomi jumping as he harshly spanked the side of her thigh in approval. 
Her legs lightly clasped around his face, twisting his head a bit as it felt overwhelming, gripping his hair harder as her body trembled. She whimpered again, pleading to him, “Baby…”
But that didn’t do anything to stop him, if anything it made him continue. Her breath hitched as one of his hands came up, gripping her breast within his palm as the other kept her legs spread.
Toji felt her squirm beneath him, her pleas only spurring him on further. He loved the way she sounded, begging for him to stop yet unable to pull herself away.
“I’m sorry, baby. Can’t help myself,” he groans to her. 
She's trapped beneath his relentlessment as he sticks his tongue out, pushing it inside of her walls, warm and gummy as they fold around his mouth. His eyes nearly rolled as he groaned again, feeling Nozomi’s thighs trembling as she softly cried— He could taste her arousal, thick and potent. It was intoxicating, making him drunk with desire.
“Pussy is so fuckin’ pretty,” he grunts, holding her thighs apart as he circles his head, deepening his tongue inside her, the sight to Nozomi’s eyes completely filthy.
She throws her hands over her face as she softly cries, “Fushiguro….stop…”  her face was entirely red.
The more she begged, the more Toji wanted to hear it. He liked hearing her pleads. He had the intention to make it worse. 
"Shut the fuck up,” he grunted out, “‘Gonna put your whole pussy on my face,” his tongue delving deeper into her. He could feel her walls clenching around him, her juices coating his face as he ate her out.
His hands gripped tighter onto her thighs, holding her open for himself as he continued to feast on her. He could feel her trembling beneath him, her pleas only serving to fuel his desire.
"Oh fuck...you're so tight," he groaned, his tongue curling as he pushed it further inside of her, “Not gonna be able to handle all this dick. Gonna fuckin’ cry,” he won’t stop talking, she wants to punch him at this point. 
Toji couldn't get enough of her—the taste of her. He lapped at her hungrily, his tongue plunging into her depths as his hands held her legs up. He could feel her tightening around him, her juices flowing freely as he devoured her.
"Oh my god, baby, gonna make you cum..." he growled against her pussy, his voice muffled by her folds. "Then I’m gonna fuck you up until you can't walk straight. Can’t think straight.” 
His words in her mind— it makes her legs shake even harder, trapping his head within her thighs again. He snatches them open, the sight of his eyes closed, tongue dipping in and out of her, she felt like she was going to faint. He gets a good leverage of her hips, dragging his tongue back up her clit, sucking it between his lips as the sound echoes in the room, sliding back down as he yanks her pussy against his jaw, practically bouncing her against his mouth. Her abdomen shakes as waves of pleasure come crashing down, something like his tongue making  her feel a stretch in her walls, how was she gonna survive? 
It didn’t help that Toji was beneath her, moaning as if this pleased him entirely, head swiveling around, bottom of his face completely soaked. Toji was lost in the taste of her, the feel of her body writhing beneath him. Her cries filled his ears, her juices coated his tongue, and the way her body shook beneath him drove him wild.
He sucked harder on her clit, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub as he worked it into his mouth. His hands gripped her hips tightly, holding her in place as he rolled his lips, sucking all at the same time, practically drinking between her legs. 
The moment her legs opened a bit wider for him, Nozomi reached up for her ankle that quivered, her hips matching the jitter as she looked down to him, panting, “Agh…Fushiguro…I—baby…” 
“About to cum, pretty baby?”
“I—I don’t know…” her throat grasps for the oxygen in the room, “F—Feel like I have to pee…”
That makes him grunt, clutching his palms back around her ankles, hovering his mouth above her hips as he makes contact directly with her clit, sloppily slurping at the sticky and wet flesh, dropping his lower lip against her entire core as he slows his mouth down, head motioning in a circle so effectively that he should’ve been dizzy. The sight, the sound, all of it makes Nozomi’s eyes flutter. She tightly snatches his hair as her abdomen tenses up, a sense of defeat as she gushes along his face, Toji reaching up as he sticks his fingers within her mouth, pulling her up by her teeth to make her watch. 
“Cum just like that. Good fuckin’ girl,” his voice is still muffled, entrapping her pussy with his mouth, lapping up her arousal mercilessly, worshipping her body for the pleasure she releases. She jumps as he raises his hand, spanking the side of her ass, gripping the flesh to watch it faint a color of red. 
Her eyes are low, body tired—but they’d only just begun. 
He comes up as he snatches the side of her face, plunging his lips against her own as he messily makes out with her. Nozomi attempts to keep up with him, but her body feels paralyzed, wondering if this was her time to plead the fifth. This man was trying to kill her. 
“Eyes,” he tells her, gripping her chin to look at him, “You’ okay? Need me to stop?”
Despite her own mind in fear of what was to come next, her body was on vibrate, and a bigger part of her wanted more. Needed more. She shook her head, pulling her eyes open as a response.
 She gasps softly as spanks her ass, “Nah. Fuck all that no talking shit, tell me everything you feel. Tell me you want me to keep going.” 
The thought of being vocal made her nervous, embarrassed even. She said softly, “Keep going…” 
He smacks his lips with a grunt of, “You can do better than that,” pulling her into another kiss before he backs up, standing at the edge of the bed to begin removing his own clothes. Nozomi only watches, her face warm and flustered, thinking back to running out of the room each time this man even took his shirt off. 
Now here he was, dark eyes intently on her as he aggressively tugged off his tie, never as gentle with himself as he could be with her. Her eyes drop down as he begins removing his pants, trying to hide the way her eyes want to fall out when he pulls down his boxers—he definitely was…gifted, if she could find the word.
“Don’t look at me like that if you don’t wanna come play with it.” 
She keeps her eyes to herself. 
He almost chuckles, feeling her gaze pull away as he stands before her, now completely naked. His entire frame was beautifully sculpted, abdomen hard, nearly sharp within her sight. He comes back onto the bed, his large arms caging her in by the sides of her head.  
“Like what you see, huh?”
 His lips are close to hers again, lightly brushing along the baby pink of her mouth. Her face is warm again, looking everywhere but between his legs. She says softly, “Don’t do that,” too nervous for his teasing. It’s the little things he does, brushing his mouth against hers instead of actually kissing her that drives her crazy. Her mouth is parted as she wants him to make out with her, but instead he presses light kisses along her jaw, watching as it makes her chest heave up and down, wrapping her arm around his neck, reaching for his hair from behind.
He chuckles, enjoying just how much he can get her worked up. Her need for his mouth on hers was obvious, it only made him want to tease her even more. 
 “You want my mouth?”
His fucking voice—the way he slowly begins locking her legs over his shoulders, it makes her clutch tighter for his hair. A small whine comes from her mouth, breathing into his throat as she begs beneath her breath, “Want your mouth, so bad…”
She’s so vulnerable like this, so vulnerable beneath him. 
“I know you do.” He mutters against her skin, his mouth now trailing up to her ear, “You’re so fuckin’ pretty like this, you know that? Begging for me, whining to have my mouth on you.”
Her legs being separated by his shoulders make her ache even more, unable to squeeze them together anymore. He still doesn’t give her what he wants. He needed the perfect moment. Her heart beats within her chest, hoping this isn’t as painful as she imagined it to be. 
Toji’s face hovers over hers, face stoic as he watches her expression. He locks his palms around her ankles while trapping her along the bed. The moment feels like an eternity. He takes his tip within his hand, rubbing it against her clit, watching as she shudders from that. He then slaps it along her opening, listening to her pussy squelch, needing to be filled. The silence was deafening at this point. 
Slowly, dreadfully, achingly, he begins to push inside of her. Nozomi’s eyes twitch, her mouth parts open a little after, and she starts to feel a deep pinch in her lower body, a sweet pain that she’d never experienced before. Toji keeps his eyes up, gently placing his forehead on top of hers as he moves a bit, the hold she had along his hair clutches even tighter, and finally, a whimper comes from her lips.
The sound of her whimper causes him to pause, closing his eyes momentarily to control himself. He was already engulfed in her pleasure, but it was the fact that he knew he was her first that was making him absolutely feral. 
Toji felt his breath get caught in his throat the moment he heard that sound come from her. It was a mixture of pain and pleasure, and it sounded so damn good to his ears.
Her legs instantly began trembling. Her arms around his neck tighten as she leans her head back, pulling him forward to press his lips along her neck. The mixture of the two feelings made her legs tremble even more, a shuddering whine coming from her mouth. 
She gasped, deeply, her eyes closing as she could feel tears brimming in them, a pleasure she had never experienced before filling her body.
The sight of her so sensitive causes his mind to snap. Her body is like a piece of glass; he has to hold her with care, otherwise she’d break. He had to be gentle with her, and he had never been this gentle with anyone. 
She’s gasping along his ear, Toji unable to help himself to talk to her as he grunts, “Shit feels good, doesn’t it? This is my pussy, huh?” 
His voice in her ear sends her into panting softly, keeping her grip on his hair. His grip along her ankles doesn’t falter, spreading her legs a little wider, Nozomi pulling his face deeper into her neck as she trembles, “Oh my…ohmygod.”
Her trembling beneath him only makes his heart race that much faster. She’s so reactive, every subtle movement he makes as he’s between her legs brings a new response. He lets her claw into his hair, needing her to mark him in some way as her hands stay there. 
Toji’s mind is hazy as he pushes deeper into her, a low groan leaving his mouth near her ear. “You’re doing so good, baby.”
Her inhales are short, but her exhales are long. She pulls his face up to meet hers, lightly pulling their lips together, trying to kiss him, unable to as her head spins, eyes rolling to the back of her head. She whines softly, “B—baby…I…”
He can’t help the grin that comes to his face as she tries desperately to kiss him, but her body is too sensitive to it. She trembles, her hair sticking to her skin, a glow of sweat along her body. 
It’s pleasure, and only Toji can give it to her. He’ll give her all of it. 
“What, baby?” He muttered against her skin, peppering kisses along her neck as he continued his slow movements. “You’ gonna say my name again?”
He’s barely moving, but the moment he does, she cries softly, dragging her nails into his back, “Toji,” she whimpers his name in the most desperate way, as if wasn’t allowed to.
Each time she says his name, he can’t help but feel heat fill his body. Each cry, each whimper, each breath from her skin as she says his name, it makes him hungry for more. 
His grip on her ankles tightens, using them in order to drive himself deeper. When she cries his name, Toji can’t help but groan against her skin, kissing where he can as he whispers, “Say my fuckin’ name just like that.”
His left hand reaches up for the headboard, finding a grip along the wood as his other hand still holds her ankle. Nozomi keeps her nails dug into his back, face within his shoulder as she brokenly moans, feeling that she’d be embarrassed about the sounds she made later. 
She gasps softly, “I…I feel…different…”
It’s obvious that she’s still new to the feeling. Her whimpers are filled with a hint of pain, but Toji was determined to make this as good for her as possible. 
He wants no thought to be in her mind but him.
“How do you feel?” He asked her between breaths, his chest pressing against hers, his head buried in her neck as he began to pick up rhythm, their flesh creating a clapping sound. He slowly moved her leg, moving it to a spot that would make her feel even more.
Her leg trembles at the movement of her leg, mouth right against his as a genuine, “Ughn—shit,” scatters desperately from her lips, eyes fluttering shut, losing the side of her brain to answer the question.
The sound of her swearing has a dark chuckle fan against her mouth from him. Toji wants to ruin her, and he intends to do just that. He wants to make her so sensitive that she’d be unable to handle just one more touch.
His lips brush hers as whispers to her, his movements deliberate and calculated. “You feel good, baby?” He muttered against her skin, “You’ hear me fucking you? Hear your pussy, baby? She sounds so pretty, doesn’t she? Sucking me in like she can’t let go. Listen.” 
The clapping sound of their skin, the way his hips bury into her, sloshing each time he pushes inside. She inhales deeply, eyes rolling to the back of her head as she breathlessly whimpers, “Yeaah,” she drags the word out a bit to her disadvantage, clutching his hair again, sucking her breathing back to silence as she hears herself losing her sense to talk.
Her voice makes Toji groan. She sounds absolutely wrecked. 
“It’s too much, huh?” He cooes, the bastard, his hand moving from her ankle to her thigh, “Who’s making you feel like this?” 
“You, baby,” she says, eyes rolling back ever so slightly, “You, baby. Fuck, it’s you, baby,” she repeats, as if she didn’t hear herself the first two times.
“That’s fuckin’ right,”  He muttered against her skin, his hand rubbing up and down her thigh as he continued his movements, making her feel every each inch of him, “Nobody else is gonna fuck you the way I do.” 
She’s the one who’s begging for him. She’s whining for him, and only him. She’s saying his name and only his name.
“You feel so good, baby.” He whispers to her, “Pussy made just for me. Wanna eat her again, miss that shit gushing all on my mouth.” 
She’s gripping onto him for dear life. Her reactive moans  is the only thing he can hear as he continued, “You’re so sensitive. If I eat you out, I know you’re gonna cream, might even squirt. Fuck, baby…” 
“Oooohshit,” her mouth parts, Toji grasping a rough kiss at the opportunity of her mouth opening, “Fuckin’ feel you, baby,” she clutches his hair tighter, “D—Don’t mean to pull your hair like that…m’sorry…”
“Pull harder.” He orders her, his voice low as his lips now give company to her ear. 
She tugs a little more in response—soft, making sure she doesn’t hurt him—which causes Toji to chuckle, the deep sound fanning against her lips. 
She nearly pouted, “Don’t laugh at me…”
He kisses her shoulder gently before grunts, “You’re so fuckin’ cute like this. Fuckin’ needy ass. So tough, so mouthy—all you needed was some dick.”
“You’re making fun of me…” she whimpers, turning her face down to his shoulder, becoming a bit
more vocal as her body relaxes. 
“I am,” he admitted against her skin, “But you’re taking my shit so good, baby. You’re being such a good girl, it’s so fuckin’ sexy.”
It seems that his voice is what triggers her, because when she takes in his tone, a particularly deep gasp comes from her chest, her head kneeling back, hips squirming in response. Her pussy tightens. 
Toji grumbles against her neck, “You like my voice, baby?”
She nods her head, “I—agh—like it, baby,” she agrees softly, “Like when you talk to me…” she tries to find her words, feeling her face warm as she also adds, “Like when you’re a little rough with me…”
He chuckles against her skin, her confession only furthering his drive, “Rough, huh?” He muttered against her skin, “I’m trying to be gentle, baby. Don’t do that.” 
“I’m okay,” her voice is soft, but it’s a protest, “Feels good, baby. I…” she drags her nails down his back, “Want more of you.”
The sound of her voice is so soft and needy, so desperate for more of him, Toji can’t keep himself from groaning against her skin, her nails digging into his skin just making him all the more greedy. 
“You want more of me?” He muttered against her neck, his lips brushing along her pulse, “You can barely take the dick I’m giving you now, whimpering and shit. You don’t need more.” 
She pulls him down by his hair, tugging it the way he asked before, her tongue dragging along his skin as she whimpers, “Please, Toji…”
The tug on his hair makes his breath get caught in this throat, and the way her tongue drags along his skin is only adding more gasoline to the fire that’s already burning inside of him. 
“Please what, baby?” He asked her against her skin, her whimpering driving him further over the edge, “You gotta tell me what you want, baby. Use your words.”
She thinks for a moment, trying to figure out exactly what she wanted. She then tells him, “‘Wanna get on top.”
The statement takes him by surprise, his movements pausing as he lifts his head to look at her. Being on top would give her a position of control. But one look at her face, her expression, he finds that he’s unable to say no even if he wanted to. 
“You wanna ride me, baby?” He grunts to her, Nozomi nodding in response as she persuades, “‘Wanna show you I can handle you…” a desperation to her tone, “Want you to feel good too.”
“I feel good as fuck, baby. Don’t worry about that. Come here.”
He leans himself back along the bed, pulling her above him as he states, “Prove that shit, then.”
Now she was actually nervous. Her legs feel numb, and there’s a very faint cramp in her lower abdomen, but the pleasure she felt—a rush of it came over her body seeing him now laid on his back, dark eyes watching her every move. She wanted more. 
She slowly crawls towards him, curiously eyeing the monster that stood at her attention, it jumping when she looks fully at his dick. It was veiny, probably heavy in her hands. She can’t help it. She leans forward as she wraps her lips around his tip, dipping her head down as she drags spit along his entire length, pulling her mouth back with a pop.
 As she runs her tongue over her lips, she feels him clutch her jaw, grunting at the sight of her sucking his dick as he growls, “You’re not ready for that. Come bounce on my dick.” 
She listens— although something in her prefers to be defiant—coming onto his lap, reaching behind herself as she runs her palm along his tip, guiding it towards her opening as she spreads herself with her other hand.  
She sinks herself down, the newfound feeling causing her eyes to drop lower, a soft gasp leaving her lips. It was an aching pinch in her body all over again. She adjusts her hips as she moans, feeling Toji’s hands grip the skin of her ass, balancing her weight.
He groaned at her walls tightening around him, opening his palm as he slammed it against her ass with a gruff, “That’s it, baby…” 
She leans herself into him, placing her hands along his chest as she looks behind herself, slowly raising her hips, gently dropping her ass back down. Her entire abdomen felt on fire, her eyes fluttering closed as her legs throbbed, pulling her hair behind her ear as she shuddered, “Like that?”
He groaned the second she began to move, and he was barely able to hold himself back from lifting her hips himself, making her move. He’s letting her set the pace, making sure to give her as much time as she needs to adjust herself. 
His hands found her hips again, guiding her gently as he let out a husky, “Just like that, baby…” His voice is a harsh whisper, his eyes unable to leave her. “So fuckin’ sexy…” 
The way his voice sounds is different from before, a vulnerability that he didn’t have when she was beneath him. She moved her hips up and down a couple of more times, the final connection sending a wave of pleasure over her body, her breath hitching before a soft moan released. This is where she began to find her rhythm, moving a little faster, her fingers sinking into his chest, digging into the skin as she dug her teeth into her lip, eyebrows furrowing as she attempted to hold back the whimpers that wanted to drop from her lips.
As she found her rhythm, Toji allowed himself to let out a low groan, his eyes closing as he savored the feeling of her body against his. The dig of her nails into his skin only drove him farther over the edge, his hands on her hips only holding her, fighting the demon that wanted to take control. He could feel her slowly gaining more confidence—he was loving it. 
“Riding my shit like a fuckin’ pro, baby…” 
She wasn’t sure why was so shy at this moment, and in order for her to feel good, she needed to relax. She swirls her hips around, running her fingers over her body in a way that makes her hips tremble, immediately placing her hands back along his chest as she moaned, “Need you to touch me…” as she takes one of his hands, placing it along her throat, face warm as she does so.
He clutches his palm around her throat immediately, still holding onto her hip, spanking her again, “Like that? That’s what you want?”
She nods, “Mhm,” sucking in a breath as she feels him using her throat as leverage to hold onto her, her breathing going back to quick inhales, and slow, heavy exhales, “Yeah, baby…love when you touch me like that.”
He’s becoming impatient—he can’t help himself. He gives her a new way to move, pulling her feet flat along the bed, raising his hands higher under her thighs to have a good leverage on her, before he’s lifting her up, dropping her down, bouncing her on top of him, the harsh movement causing their skin to make a loud noise, the impact making Nozomi fully gasp. It causes her to place her hand behind herself along his leg, the other still in front of his chest. 
She understands what he wants, doing just that, moving her entire body as her ass recoils to the slam of his abdomen, something she entirely was too sensitive for, but powered through in order to feel the pleasure that came with it. Her head was down, whining as her lower body shook, dragging up and plopping back down, a heavy groan dropping from her lips as her hair fell around her face and shoulder. 
She squeezed the skin she held onto as she messily moaned, “Oh my goddd—baby. baby, yeah—“ she squeaks, connecting their hips in between, “I can’t….” She pants, “Feels so…aghh.”
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah.” 
He was supposed to be letting her have her time on top, but he can’t hold back any longer. He growls against her skin, his voice almost a command, “Lean forward. Let me fuck you.” 
She leans into him, feeling as he wraps his arms around her lower back, his own hips thrusting upwards, the sound within the room like no other. Nozomi places her hand against his bicep, digging into the skin as she bleats, “Ooooh, shit, Toji—“ she gasps to herself, locking her hand over her mouth, shuddering wildly as she then wraps her arms around his neck as she cries, “Mmmm, wait, baby,” she whimpers out, unable to hold her voice back.
He buries his head into her neck, kissing, licking, biting, leaving a mark as he continues. 
“Nuh-uh, thought you could handle it? Thought you were a big girl?” He grunts in her ear, “Take my fuckin’ dick, big girl.”
He takes advantage of his movement, fully locking his arms under her legs, pulling her knees over his shoulders as she’s still on top of him. Her arms are still wrapped around his neck as he sits himself up a bit, holding her fully as he guides her roughly. His palms are hot as he holds the flesh of her ass, lifting her within the air as he yanks harshly, pussy sopping arousal as he slams her down onto his dick, his balls drenched in her cream.  Nozomi gasps against his mouth, blabbering cries faltering against his lips. She can only listen to the sounds their bodies create together, mewling in defeat. 
She pouts along his mouth as she whimpers, “Fuckin’ love you, babyy.”
He captures her lips with his own, his teeth gently tugging on her bottom lip as he grunts against her mouth, “Stop all that whining shit. Thought you hated me.”
She presses her forehead to his, “Don’t bring that up…” seeing how messy she was against him, her hand back in a deep grip on his hair. She goes silent for a moment, holding him close as she listens to their skin stickily connecting. But that didn’t mean he was done talking to her.
He moves himself slightly, shifting their position just enough for him to get a good angle to give a particularly aggressive thrust, enough to force a cry from her lips, “I know you fuckin’ hear me talking to you.”
Her heavy panting goes into a particularly long and raspy moan, her breath sucking in as she tries to fight it, back to pressing her forehead against his as she whimpers back, “Don’t hate you. Can’t hate you, when you’re fucking me like this…” she groans, eyes wanting to roll back again, “Sorry, baby…was so mean to you…”
He relishes in her groans, her whines, the way she’s unable to speak normally, the way she’s falling apart completely because of him. “You should be sorry. Now look at you.” 
He doesn’t halt at all, her small frame being carried effortlessly, lifting her up and down on his dick, his tip damn near reaching her throat. Her breathless pants are embarrassing to hear, but the squeal she makes when he swirls her hips down with a hard drop onto his hips, that's even worse. 
Her arms tremble as she tightens them around his neck, another aggressive moan pushing out her body, pleasurable tears triggering from that one. She gasps, “Oh my—“ she holds herself back, looking him in his eyes as she whines messily, “Forgive me, baby. So fuckin’ sorrry. Imsosorry,” cheeks hot as she listens to his arrogant laugh.
“Sorry, huh? You don’t mean it.”
“Mean it, baby. Fuck.” 
“It’s cause I’m fuckin’ you stupid,” he grunts, tugging her down, her walls gushing through his thrusts, spurting out suctions of air. 
She drags her tongue up his jaw, reaching his mouth as she pleads, “Said sorry already, baby. Know you wanna forgive me…”
He groans at that, keeping his composure as he talks to her, “Say you won’t be mean to me again,” he demanded against her lips, his grip on her hips tightening.
“Always gonna be nice to you, baby,” she whimpers, “Wanna be sweet to you…” she sucks on his lower lip, giggling in a way that makes her feel insane, so full of pleasure, she couldn’t even think.
“Yeah?” He asked breathlessly, his hands grasping a harsh and unforgiving grip on her hips, “You promise?”
“Promiseeee,” she moans back, “Fushigurooo,” she panics, gripping onto him, “I….my body…I feel numb.” 
She didn’t understand the feeling. She had experienced a certain amount of pleasure, but this was different. While all of this had been symphonies of pleasure, this was an entire orchestra. She was having her first orgasm.
“Just let it happen, baby.” He muttered against her neck, his lips against her skin, “It’s a good thing, I promise.”
Her entire body jolts, shivering in a defeated pleasure, a short scream releasing from her mouth as she holds onto him, her legs trembling as if she’d been electrocuted. Her knees shake over his shoulders as her eyes drop down to see her squirt against him, nails digging into his chest as she cried out, “Tojiii.” 
He presses his forehead to hers, his own body feeling like it’s on fire as she moans, “Ooh, fuck baby. You’re squirting. Keep cumming. Keep cumming. Keep. Fuckin’
Cumming,” he talks in between thrusts, sending her in a state of psychosis. 
The tears that drop from her eyes make her sob in pleasure, knowing his skin was welted with the way she clawed him, her face pressing into his neck as a warmth filled her cheeks. His brain is muffled as she whines, “Cum in me, cum in me. Cum in me.”
He tries to knock sense into himself, but with her in his ear, he grips her skin as he bottoms out, moaning as he cums to her voice. She made him insane.  
Both of them feel exhausted, but not as much as Nozomi. When she finally felt that her mouth wouldn’t release anymore shouts, her body still trembled as she whimpered, bringing her face deeper into his neck.
“Fuck, baby. You’ okay?”
She brings a hand over her face as she nods, unable to do anything else. All her vulnerability returns, realizing she was bare against him, realizing what’d she just done. What they’d just done. 
Her sudden shyness makes him careful. She’s vulnerable like this, and he wants to take the time to handle her, to treat her. He gently guides her body against his, rolling them so she’s against the mattress and he’s laid against her. He gently pries her hand away from her face, his fingers gently tracing over her cheeks. 
“Hey, pretty,” his deep voice greets her. 
Her face turns away, hiding within his shoulder for a moment. Silence goes between them as she softly says, “Hi.”
He lets out a soft laugh at her shy greeting, his hand gently rubbing the side of her body, his fingers gently tracing over her back. 
“You’ okay, baby?” He asked her stain, placing a gentle kiss against her temple, “You with me?”
“Mhm,” she replies gently, “I’m here.”
She whimpers as she feels him spank her attention to him, flicking her eyes as she says, “I’m just thinking.”
He can see the way she twitches from the smack, his voice dropping into a deep chuckle, “Thinking?” His tone is a tease, a playful taunt as he speaks, “I fucked you that good, huh?”
“Fushiguro,” she warns, “Jesus. Fuck off. Is this your way of pillow talk?”
“You’ got an attitude?” he raises an eyebrow.
He hikes her up as he growls into her neck, snatching her skin in a kiss that makes her giggle. She then says quietly, “I just…am curious to know what this means for us. Going forward…” 
She traces her finger over his chest, “If this just happened in the moment, or that you really wanted to be with me…”
The questions almost pissed him off. He’s never wanted anyone as much as he wants her. 
He suddenly captures her chin in his hand, bringing her face up to meet him as he spoke in a deep and serious tone, “I want you. I want all of you.”
The words are genuine, and her heart swells. She leans closer to his face as she grins, “Say it again.” 
She giggles as he raises her leg over his shoulder, spanking her again as he grunts, “I love you, Nozomi.”  
His words make her body warm, feeling as he gruffly kisses her neck, trying to prove his point. The way she smiles, the way the grin looks on her face…he’s completely smitten.  
“Say it back,” he grunts against her skin, his words like a breathless demand, “Say you love me.”
“I love me,” she says softly, giggling louder as he hovers over her now, growling against her skin as he spanks her a couple more times.
He chuckles against her skin at her sarcastic words, his hand gently digging into the flesh of her thigh as he pressed another possessive bite into the skin on her neck, just hard enough to make her squeal. 
“I swear. Say you love me, baby,” he teased her, nipping against her skin, “Please.”
She finally becomes serious, holding up his chin to look directly at her as she says, “I love you, Toji.”
A low groan drops from his lips as he captures her in a deep, hungry kiss, his mouth attacking her own as his hands tug at her body to pull her closer to him, “Again.” 
“I love you,” she muffled, giggling against his mouth, “I love you.”
His body is craving her even more after hearing her words, her voice a drug that’s suddenly driving him crazy, suddenly making him desperate and needy. His tongue forces its way into her mouth, desperate to fuck her. Eat her out. Something. 
She then pulls him back, “We need to get back to the reception before my sister kills me,” she giggles throughout his kisses, “Seriously, Fushiguro.”
He pauses, pulling back from her neck as he groans into her skin, pulling back to grumble against her skin, “Fine.”
“One more kiss,” he bargained with her, “Just one, before we go.”
“One,” she agrees, accepting the kiss from him. He then leans down, “Or two,” kissing her again, “Or three.” 
He can’t help but want to make her giggle. It had been so long since he heard it, he’d never make her stop. She sighs as she says, “Help me with this dress, please?”
“We’re really leaving? For real?” 
“Did you think I was joking?”
“A little.”
“Boy. Let's go.” 
“Didn’t you say you were gonna be nice to me earlier? You were like ‘aghhh, baby! imma’ be nice!’—“ 
“Fushiguro!” 
“…My bad.”
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primofate · 2 months ago
Text
Is it a crime to post unfinished drafts? It's been sitting for 2 years already. I'm letting this one go.
Genshin Series - The sides of him only you get to have and see Part 5: Angry/Frustrated [All male characters]
Other works in this series: (Part 1 - Soft and Gentle) (Part 2 - flustered) (Part 3 - clingy) (Part 4 - Worried)
Warnings: some fluff, some angst, depending on the prompt, lots of different scenarios, some protective, some a bit yandere, some aggressive... quite long cause i got carried away >_>
Personal favourites in this work: Ayato, Bennett
Aether
When his investigation about his sister’s whereabouts turns up into a dead end
“...What if I never find her?” His voice is just a whisper as the two of you sit side by side around the campfire. Paimon is already sleeping off to the side, exhausted by the day’s events. 
You can hear the desperation in his voice, and it cripples you as well, the hurt that comes with losing a loved one and being unable to find them. You let yourself fall sideways and lay your head on his shoulder, hoping to give him some comfort. “...We’ll keep looking, Teyvat’s a big place, you know,” you whisper and it seems that your answer only serves to frustrate him more.
“That’s exactly the problem... Sometimes I don’t know where to start and I don’t know where to look first... I just...” His fists clench for a moment but he relaxes with a small sigh minutes later, arm wounding around your back to pull you closer to his side. “Sorry... I don’t mean to complain so much,” 
You shake your head as you bask in his warmth. “You’re allowed to feel this way, Aether. I’m right here beside you, okay?”
His gaze softens, head leaning towards the crown of your head to place a kiss there. “Thank you, Y/N,” he wouldn’t know what to do if he lost you as well.
Albedo
When someone is too rough with you.
Could he request you not to work at the tavern? Possibly, yes. But Albedo was not the type to tie you down or tell you what to do. Plus, you were capable of taking care of yourself. 
Sometimes he would pick you up from your shift, however, today the Cat’s Tail was a little understaffed and you had to work a few more orders before you could go. 
“Hey!” You jump as one tavern-goer stands and smashes his glass of beer on the table with a loud THUD. “This isn’t what I ordered!” Frankly you were used to this by now, but it didn’t mean that you were any less startled. You calmly walked over to the table and took back the mugs that you just placed when the same person grabs your wrist.
The mugs sway in your hand, the beer in it pouring over your fingers a little as it sloshed. “Sir?” You ask as the man’s hand tightens around your wrist. 
The man grunts and growls “Make sure you tell the bartender to give me a discount for giving the wrong order!” Drunkards were like that. They were loud and sometimes couldn’t control themselves, you twist your wrist away successfully and relay the message to the bartender, though you noticed that Albedo was there too, waiting for you to come back. 
Albedo catches your arm and lifts your wrist up to eye level. There’s a blank look on his face that you can’t quite read and for a moment his eyes dangerously flicker to the group of tavern-goers who gave you trouble. You sense that he’s a little irked. “It’s okay ‘Bedo, I’m fine, just the usual rowdy people, you know?” You reassure him and his stern face drops, replaced by that of defeat with a small sigh.
It’s “just the usual” you say. He doesn’t quite know how to feel about that, if this was “usual”, yet he understood. Every job came with its risks and this was already relatively safer than being an adventurer. Albeo sighs again and brings your wrist up to his lips, his eyes yet again dart towards the said table. He really wanted to have a word with those rude men, but he avoided conflict for your sake. 
“Alright, Y/N. As long as you keep your promise,” he reminds you. Jogging your memory that you had promised to tell him if something dire really happens at work.
Ayato
When his status affects you
You’re aware that ever since you and Ayato were married, his shuumatsuban had also been following you around. Ayato reassured you that it was for your own good, and you somewhat agreed. You weren’t that bothered by it, since the shuumatsuban were so good at concealing their presence, it seemed like nothing changed in your every day routine.
“Master Ayato,” and so imagine Ayato’s annoyance when he receives a report from one of his men that you were being tailed by someone suspicious. “...Capture him,”
In the secret dungeons of the Kamisato residence, there is a pitiful man sitting in the middle of a cell with bars. Kamisato Ayato stands in front of him, cold and calculating look on his face. “State your reason for tailing Y/N,” he would break this man quick, and get all the answers he needed for your safety.
“I-I-I swear I’m not a bad guy! I just--Someone told me they’d pay me a huge amount of money to kidnap Y/N!” Ayato doesn’t break his cold gaze from the man, but he also can’t control the way he unsheathes his sword and starts to clean it with a cloth, as if getting ready for an execution.
“Then for your own good I suggest you give me all the names of these people who bribed you,” His tone is calm, but also eerie. “After that’s done, you won’t lay your eyes on Y/N again... Is that understood?” 
He couldn’t afford for anything to happen to you, specially not when it was because of him.
Bennett
When his bad luck affects you
Bennett had been quiet the whole way back to Mondstadt. As per usual a few things happened that proved his luck was horrid. 
Today seemed to be one of the worst.
Not only did you not finish the commission given to you, but things happened one after the other.
First, the two of you couldn’t find the monster you were looking for. Second, when you finally found it, it proved to be difficult to subdue. Third, the treasure the two of you found was not really treasure at all. Fourth, you could not find the item that you were supposed to bring back to town and finally, fifth, a once wonderful, cloudless and breezy day suddenly turned glum and the rain poured down on your heads.
Bennett was utterly defeated, and you knew it cause he had been quiet up until the gates of Mondstadt, when the two of you finally took shelter for a moment from the rain. He usually would still be upbeat and positive, no matter what he went through, but seeing you sneeze and shiver in the rain, on top of being tired and grimey, he really couldn’t help but hate his bad luck.
You glanced at him at the corner of your eye, he was looking at the ground with his brows furrowed. The look of frustration was foreign in his face but you said what you always did after an adventure with him. “...Today was fun, Bennett. Let’s go again tomorrow!”
His head snaps up in an instant, eyes wide and tracing your face for any lies and dishonesty. All he saw was your bright smile and eager disposition. Truthfully you had learned to be incredibly positive because of him, and if he needed a little bit of that positivity, then you were willing to give it back, no matter how hard things were.
For a split second his lips looked as if they trembled, his shoulders relaxed and a wobbly smile appears on his face. He nearly barrels into you with a hug, and mumbles “You’re the best Y/N,”
Bennett always thought that you were his sun, and he loved every bit of the time he spent with you.
Chongyun
When he isn’t able to protect you
“’Yun?” You call out from your sitting position on your bed, and Chongyun, for the umpteenth time that day, slightly jerks up on the chair next to you, eyes darting towards your face. 
“Hm?” he says, trying to brush off the fact that he had been zoning out, small, shy smile on his face.
You’re silent for a moment, staring back at him. The cogs in your mind working a bit more. “...You’re upset aren’t you?” 
The way he tenses up at your accusation tells you the answer, but still he denies it. “N-No,” 
You sigh, your bandaged arm resting on your side. The wound didn’t hurt that much, but Chongyun was the one who insisted he’d feed you instead of making you use your dominant, injured arm. He was so embarrassed when he offered it. Face red and unsure what to say except that he was holding the bowl of porridge your mother made in his hands and that was enough of a cue for you. 
“...Aah,” You open your mouth again, and that’s when Chongyun snaps out of it, realizing that he hadn’t even finished feeding you. So he proceeds to give you another spoonful. 
“You know it’s not your fault, right?” You confirm after you swallow that bite and he again tenses up without saying anything. 
You knew he hated it when the two of you went adventuring together and you ended up getting hurt. Occasionally it would be him with the injury, but when you got injured, somehow, to him, it was a graver matter than him getting hurt. 
That statement opens his dam of insecurities. “I’m too weak...If I had been a little faster...”
“I must be pretty weak too then, if I wasn’t even able to dodge it,” you counter and you see him open his mouth in protest but close it again, knowing that you had laid a trap for him if he disagreed. He went silent again. 
“...I think you’re really cool Chongyun, the way you handle your claymore makes you look really handsome,” you giggled a little cause you knew he was going to go red and sputter out a response. 
“W-W-What do you mean?” He proceeds to shove another spoonful in your face, probably so that you wouldn’t actually be able to reply. “A-Anyway...I...I’ll work harder to protect you,” he finishes his sentence and you don’t protest nor say another thing anymore, seeing as he at least got some of his good mood back. 
Dainsleif
When you don’t keep a promise
“You said you would meet me by the tree in Windrise. Imagine my distress when you didn’t show up,” Dainsleif had his arms crossed over his chest, eyes actually glaring at you. 
“I know but you know how things can get. The job was a little more difficult than expected and it took longer to finish,” 
You’d found yourself trudging deep through the forest to locate the cabin he considered his “home”. Far away from everything else and nearly impossible to locate if you had never been there before. You arrived by morning, knocking at his door and unsurprised with the dumbfounded look on his face. 
He still welcomed you in, but he didn’t say a word and the air was tense even as he placed a glass of water on the table for you. 
Then you were here, getting the lecture from him. 
“Then you shouldn’t have promised to be there. It’s a simple thing to communicate with me that you’re not sure when you’ll be done, I would have waited,” He continued and you sighed, cause you knew that he was right. You really shouldn’t have promised you were going to be there on time. It’s not as if it’d be the end of the world if you were a day or two late. 
“I know, I’m sorry. I guess I just wanted to see you as soon as I could and I wasn’t thinking,” you should’ve known by now that promises were a heavy thing to Dainsleif. 
You heard him give out one of his own sighs and then his hand cups your chin and tilts it up to meet him eye to eye. “I trust you understand why I’m angry,” his voice had levelled down a little, and though he was frustrated earlier you can always see the worry behind his gaze and the love in his eyes. 
You smile a little and nod your head, still a little apologetic. “If I can’t find you, if you happen to go missing, do you know what that would do to me?” He asks you, eyes finally dropping the glare and just softly gazing at you.
“I know,” you whisper and lean your face closer to his hand. Your arm reaches out to hold his coat, tugging on it a little as if a small child. “...I know you weren’t able to sleep...and I spent the whole night trying to make it back to you...so can we rest for a bit?” You suggest and he found it a good idea.
He wordlessly sweeps you into his arms and kisses your forehead, bringing the two of you into the bedroom.
Diluc
When you forget to tell him where you’re going and he doesn’t know where you are
“Adelinde, did Y/N mention skipping dinner today?” Diluc asked his head maid. He was alone at the dinner table and you were nowhere to be found in the mansion. 
Adelinde considered her words carefully. A slight misuse of words would send the young master into a spiral of worry and anxiety. She was a hundred percent sure you had just forgotten to tell someone that you were going to be out for dinner, because you’ve done it before, bless your bad memory, but Adelinde really wished you would at least tell the young master. 
“...They didn’t mention, Master Diluc...but I’m sure they must be out on some errands in Mondstadt,” it was a gamble for Adelinde to state that, because she also didn’t know where you were, and she would be in deep trouble if you didn’t come home at all.
Diluc started to eat, albeit slowly and glanced at Adelinde when she made that statement. “...Did they mention going on an errand?” he asked again, to which Adelinde now had to truthfully reply. “...No,” 
Cue the distress in Diluc’s features. Furrowed brows, cutlery not even moving, eyes calculating. You could practically see all the assumptions run through his face. Maybe you were in trouble, maybe you were taken, maybe you were lost somewhere and needed help. You would have said something if you were going to be home late, no? 
Diluc dropped his cutlery on the table, and he started going back through his memories to determine whether or not you actually had said anything about today. He would have remembered, and as far as he could tell, you didn’t say anything about not having dinner with him today, or anything of the sort.
He was about to push himself up and away from the table, to double check at Mondstadt if anyone had seen you, when the front door opened, revealing you with a basket of goods and a smile on your face. Diluc practically deflated, your name a sigh on his lips, “Y/N,” 
You knew that look, and you knew that look that Adelinde was giving you. “Oh Archons. I’m sorry, I went out in a hurry and just forgot to tell anyone where I was going,” your smile dropped almost immediately as you scurried over to the table with an apologetic gaze on your face turned towards Diluc.
You knew how worried he could get, he could already feel the adrenaline starting to pump through him, thinking about all the worst case scenarios. Diluc sighed once again, repositioning himself properly in front of the table and picking up his cutlery again. He was slightly angry, you could tell. Mostly because this wasn’t the first time it had happened. “...Put your things down and we can eat,” he simply said and you pouted a little while passing the things over to Adelinde, then sitting on your side of the table.
“...I don’t get my welcome back kiss?” You chide him playfully, to which his eyes lazily graze over you and back to his plate of food.
“When you start remembering to tell someone where you’re going in the middle of the night, I’ll start giving you your welcome back kisses,” he strictly exclaims and you could only grumble under your breath.
Gorou
When he spends too much time training or working and loses time with you
“Hahhhh...” Gorou plops down on the tatami floor of his home with a loud and long sigh. Not only was training and the patrols a little harsh today, but that was another day gone without getting to see you.
How long had it been now? Eight, nine days? He was starting to get really antsy about not being able to see you and he knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault but his. 
That night he couldn’t immediately fall into a peaceful sleep. He tossed whenever he thought of you and turned whenever he started thinking too much of what the two of you would do together the next time you saw each other. It was like planning out a whole date in his mind but realizing that he didn’t even have any day offs soon. So he would deflate and be disappointed in himself, try to go to sleep, then get carried away thinking about you again, causing him to snap his eyes open and repeat the thinking process.
“Arrghhh!” At some point he shakes his head and shuts his eyes tight, the frustration getting to him. He had to sleep, or he’ll have a really tiring day tomorrow. 
When he woke up the next morning to knocks on his door he immediately thought he had overslept. He scrambled to his feet, swinging the door open with his still disheveled fluffy hair and said “I-I’ll be right there! I just--” then he reels back, blinking, realizing that it was you standing there are the door. “Y-Y/N?! What’re you doing here?”
He smooths his hair down, tries to pat down his wrinkly house clothes but his eyes are tacked on to you, wide and happy. 
“I figured I’d visit you this time, since you seem really busy,” you laugh sheepishly, scratching your cheek. “I hope I’m not intruding,”
“Of course not!” He replies quickly but coughs on his hand right after. “I-I mean. Yeah, you’re always welcome here,” he smiles and beams at you, but then slumps his shoulders right after. “I...I still have work though, so I won’t be able to spend a lot of time with you...”
You shake your head and wave your hands “That’s alright! I can still spend lunch and dinner with you, right? That’s more than enough for me,” 
His heart blooms with a warmth that engulfs his body, his cheeks might have turned red. You were just oh-so sweet to him and oh-so kind, he didn’t know what he did to deserve an angel like you.
Heizou
When he can’t help you with your problems
Heizou is a genius at solving problems, but he knows that sometimes there are problems that he can’t solve nor he shouldn’t interfere with. One of those was problems within your family.
Sure, he had solutions and probably ways to diffuse the rising tensions in your family, but he wasn’t really in the right place to do so. All he could do is listen to you rant and complain about how things are getting so much harder with your mom and dad, and you just wanting to run away from it all, move out as soon as you can but you were tied down with the obligation of caring for your sick mother. 
It pains him and frustrates him, watching you stress over it day by day, but as much as he wanted to tell your parents that they were affecting you this much, there are some things that he shouldn’t meddle with. 
All he could do was offer advice. “...Perhaps move out and live somewhere close to them? It would still give you the advantage of privacy,” he suggests, as he sits next to you on a bench, arm coming around and behind your back, hand resting on your hip.
“I would, but the houses nearby are actually pricey, mostly because they’re family houses, not for a single person rent,” You lean sideways into him. He’s always so good at giving you solutions, though you’re unaware of the internal battle inside him, seeing you so distraught like this.
“...Well why not live with me then?” You can hear that familiar mischief in his voice, and though you know he’s joking it still flusters you. 
“D-Don’t say that as a joke, Heizou!” He chuckles at your reaction, just as he expected, but he leans in to place a kiss atop your head, his next sentences sending a shiver up your spine. “It’s a joke now, but someday I’ll make it real, regardless of what your parents say,”
Of course he ends it with a wink.
Itto
When someone hurts you and he witnesses it
Itto doesn’t get angry easily. He just doesn’t have the capacity for it. He was loud, yes, but good natured overall and never means any actual harm to anyone. 
Unfortunately you can’t say the same thing about some people in Inazuma. For the most part, people were friendly, amicable, helpful...but sometimes there were the odd balls that just appeared out of nowhere, wreaking havoc when they wanted to.
Just the other day a group of ronin who claimed to be the strongest group of vagabonds roaming Inazuma entered town and they were loud and gruff about it. “Where’s the best inn in town?” They asked at the entrance, and a kind man directed them towards it.
The next day that man was bullied by the same ronin. “We said the BEST inn in town, not the most EXPENSIVE!” You had witnessed it, the man who was just trying to help them was starting to cower backwards, the ronin were complaining about the price of the room, how they wanted the man to pay for it and you just couldn’t stand that blatant bullying.
“What’s your problem? Of course it’s going to be expensive!” You appeared behind the group and just couldn’t help but be angry at their stupidity and overall disgusting behaviour. One of them looks at you, then starts to laugh and the others follow suit, all laughing at you as if you were a clown on the streets.
You didn’t falter and merely crossed your arms above your chest. “If you have nothing better to do then maybe you should look for a job so you can pay for your next inn,” was provoking them a good idea? Of course not, and you knew that.
One of the ronins grabs you and twists your arm behind your back. You could only let out a whimper at the sudden motion but as soon as it happened it was over. You found yourself suddenly pushed behind, looking at Itto’s back as he shoves the ronin away with a harsh force. 
“The hell do you think you’re doing touching Y/N like that?!” Itto’s voice is loud, louder than when he’s excited about eating ramen or louder than when he’s discovered a magnificent onikabuto. The anger in his voice is unusual, you don’t immediately recognize it as his.
Itto’s tall. Taller than any of the ronin around you and suddenly it’s as if the ronin become meek little mice, stepping away from him and you. “W-We were just--”
Itto brandishes his claymore, “Less talking, more fighting. You want a real arm wrestle? Come at me,” you can’t imagine what kind of face he’s making, but the ronin--actually just cowards--runs at the sight of Itto’s weapon and he’s just about to go after them when you call out to him, telling him to calm down.
He doesn’t listen easily, but you place a hand on his arm and he stops, still glaring and huffing at the sight of those stupid ronins running away. 
Scaramouche
When you have to be paired up with another Harbinger for work
“You’re going with who?” There’s poison dripping from his voice, but you’re so used to his antics by now that it doesn’t scare you one bit.
“Tartaglia. The Tsaritsa said--”
“Fuck what the Tsaritsa says,” Scaramouche cuts you off. “You’re not going with that fool,” He stands and paces back and forth now. You simply sit at the table and watch him, knowing that he’s going to throw one of his “tantrums” again. “Possibly the worst person to go on a mission with,” he continues to grumble, now biting on his thumb.
“You always get worked up whenever the two of us are paired up together. It really isn’t that bad,” you exclaim, shrugging your shoulders and he stops walking to glare at you. 
“So it’s a little bad? Is that what you’re insinuating?” He doesn’t let you finish and adds. “You don’t know how dangerous he is,”
You couldn’t help but stifle a laugh quite obviously. “Scara, I think you’re more dangerous?”
Tartaglia
“I’m different,” He mumbles under his breath.
When his alone time with you gets interrupted
Thoma
When you get sick but he’s busy
Venti
When he hasn’t seen you in days
Xiao
When he wants you to stay
Xingqiu
When a book he’s reading isn’t as good as he thought it would be
Zhongli
When someone doesn’t respect your boundaries
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princesssascha · 11 months ago
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Get all your desires within a week
Have you been having trouble manifesting? Are you sick and tired of waking up everyday in your current reality and it feels like you tried every single possible manifestation technique out there yet nothing seems to work? I have come up with a 7 day challenge for you.
How do I know this works?
The universe doesn't give you what you want, it gives you what you ARE. By doing this challenge you will be matching the frequency of your dr which will allow your cr to transform.
This is a very powerful technique. Please make sure you know exactly what you want.
So, here are some of the rules:
You identify your desired reality as your current reality
You do EVERYTHING you would do in your dr, even if uncomfortable (for example, if your desired self(ds) goes to the gym at 5am everyday that's exactly what you're gonna do. It's only a week.)
Your "Cr" is your past. It is not your reality, it's imagination. Your dr is your only "correct and real" reality. After all you're doing everything you would in your dr, so that makes it your current reality.
You do this for 7 days. No cheating!
Feel free to add your own rules for yourself!
Now for the process
1.Write down your goals
What does your desired reality actually look like? Think about it and write it down. Yes, WRITE it down. Don't just think about it. Whether you do it on your notes app or on a piece of paper, write down clear habits of your ds. Some examples:
Goes to sleep at _ and wakes up at _
Works out
Works on her business/skills
Etc. anything. It doesn't have to be something important. Anything you can think of that you desire.
2.Identify your blocks
Now it's time to be brutally honest with yourself. WHY do you think your desires aren't here yet? What is blocking you from receiving your manifestations. This is the part that most people fail at, which causes them to not get their desires. Releasing those blocks can be difficult, but without it you are literally blocking your manifestations. I suggest you really research this topic, but here are some of the most common ones:
You see your 3D as your REAL reality.
You keep stressing about getting your desire NOW.
You have a lack mindset.
You don't trust yourself.
You check your 3D for your results.
3.Find the difference
Now that you know what you want it's time to find the differences. Now it might seem obvious, but again, you need to write it down. Since you already have what your desired reality looks like, here's how I do it in the easiest way. You write down your desired reality on one side and compare your current reality to it on the other side. For example: (let's just act one is on the left side and one is on the right side).
Dr: Wake up at 7am.
Cr: Wake up at 10am.
This will make it easier to change your habits later.
4.Act like you're in your dr
Now that you know what your goal is and what the difference is you are going to switch. Your desired reality is your new reality. Your current reality does not exist. It's your past. You are now in your desired reality and you KNOW that. Do everything you would do in this reality. From waking up to going to sleep. The whole day. Does your ds wake up at 5am and goes to the gym? Good. That's exactly what you're gonna do because it's your current reality. You are your dream self and your dream self is you.
5.Ignore your reality.
Now it's time for you to decide that your current reality is just a mindset. And you need to switch that mindset. You want the best for yourself and you will get it. You just need to allow it, so, from now on your only right reality is the reality you created for yourself. All the outside noise doesn't change that, because it is your reality now.
Ok, when will I get my results?
Immediately. The moment you start doing this and actually believe and persist that's the moment it becomes your reality.
But when will I see it in my 3D?
Once you accept you really have it. You need to actually believe it, and when that happens, you won't be looking for your 3D to confirm that. That's exactly when it appears in your 3D. It can be the same day, same week, same month, same or next year. You decide when you trust the universe. This is just an exercise to help those who keep stressing about their 3D. And it works magic.
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fandoms-x-reader · 4 months ago
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Not So Private Time
Requested By: @f4gg0t-4-0b3y-m3
Headcannons
Summary: The brothers' can use the magic of the pact to make you feel things that they are doing to themselves. NSFW / 18+
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Lucifer knew everything there was to know about pacts. He had been the one who was entrusted with the demon grimoire after all. And that book was a guide to everything about demons - including pacts.
Lucifer made it a point to read about the pact with a human, especially after making one with you. He wanted to know exactly how he could use it to his advantage. 
That’s when he found out about the connection between you and him where whenever he was having fun with himself you would feel it too. 
Lucifer’s head was immediately filled with ideas on when and where he could use this trick. He would never have to worry about you spending too much time with Mammon or Satan filling your head with lies about him.
Because if he even sensed this, he had a way to bring you back to him. A way to make you cry out for him. A way to make it known who was the one who could give you the best pleasure.
Lucifer wouldn’t use it when Diavolo was around. He wouldn’t risk his position in the student council for some teasing. But, outside of RAD, all bets were off the table.  
You were watching a movie with the other brothers while you waited for Lucifer to be done with his paperwork.
He had spent the entire night in his study, claiming that he had to catch up on the paperwork or else “he’d be in trouble”.
Like Diavolo would ever be mad at Lucifer.
Still, you respected his responsibilities and distracted yourself by spending time with the others while you waited for him to be done.
But, when he finished with his paperwork, he couldn’t call you up to his room like a normal person. Oh, no. He wanted you to want to come to his room. To need to come to his room.
So, he decided to tease you a bit, taking things slow. You were a blushing mess when you realized what was happening and what you were feeling.
But you were in a room full of demons and it would be impossible to escape without them knowing.
Your growing pleasure didn’t leave you much of a choice though. 
 You did your best to not let anything on as you stood up from the couch much to the dismay of the others. “Sorry, guys. Lucifer texted me and asked to go to his room,” you told them, biting your lip as your voice threatened to betray your facade.
“But, how do you know? Your D.D.D. is over here by me,” Beel asked, confused. Well, that cover was blown.
You didn’t have time to argue with them though as you were on the verge of coming undone. “I just do,” you practically snapped back, snatching your D.D.D. and rushing to the eldest’s room.
The words came out a little harsher than you meant them but you needed Lucifer. Right now.
Lucifer left his door ajar knowing exactly what would happen the second he started this endeavor. How confident.
You couldn’t argue with it though as you barged in, locking the door behind you. Lucifer was eagerly waiting for you and you wasted no time joining him on the bed, letting him pleasure you for real this time not just through your shared connection.
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Mammon let out a small sigh as he continued to scroll through the pictures he had of you on his phone.
There were so many pictures that he had taken of you. His human. He would never get tired of looking at them.
You had decided to take a trip up to the human world with Solomon and Mammon was missing you like crazy.
He couldn’t help but feel jealous as he thought about Solomon being up there with you, being able to do all of the things that he wanted to do with you.
Well - almost - all of the things. There was one thing that Solomon couldn’t do.
He hadn’t meant to get so turned on. But, looking at the pictures of you made Mammon desperate. And although he would prefer to have you there with him to help him with his current problem, he just needed some sort of relief.
He knew you would feel it. That was one of the many reasons Mammon loved being in a pact with you. Even if you were having a blast up in the human world, he had a surefire way to get you to think about him.
You and Solomon had a long day of many activities and you were tired.
The two of you had just gotten to the hotel you were staying in for the night. You made sure to ask for separate rooms, knowing that if the demon brothers’ - one in particular - found out that you and Solomon had shared a room, they would lose their mind.
Solomon walked you to your room and stopped right outside the door. The two of you had planned to watch a movie together to end the night before you went your separate ways.
But as soon as your hand touched the handle of the door, you felt a familiar jolt of pleasure.
“Is everything alright?” Solomon asked, noticing how uncomfortable you had suddenly gotten. The pleasure you were feeling only began to grow more and more and you did your best to hide it.
“Sorry, Solomon, we’re going to have to reschedule our movie night,” you told him, doing your best to control your breathing.
“No problem, but are you sure you’re alright?” Solomon asked you.
“Yes, I’m fine,” you replied, swiftly entering the room and shutting the door as soon as you spoke the words.
You felt a little bad for practically slamming the door in his face, but you need privacy right now.
You made your way to the bed, collapsing down onto it as Mammon took his time edging you closer and closer to your climax. 
When you finally hit it, you let out a moan of pleasure and although you were feeling satisfied, it made you miss Mammon’s touch and the way he would kiss you.
You searched for D.D.D. and immediately sent him a text message saying, “Solomon and I are going to be cutting our trip short.”
Mammon couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips as he read your message. He couldn’t wait to see you and do those things in person.
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Levi was incredibly embarrassed the first time he found out about this connection with you through the pact. 
You had been out doing other things when Levi got turned on. And, he just needed some relief. So, he locked the door to his room and did just that.
When you came home and told him that you felt everything he did, Levi was mortified. How was he supposed to have private time if you knew every single time he did it?!
He swore it off for a while. But he is the Avatar of Envy and he quickly realized he could use that little trick to his advantage whenever someone was crossing the line with you. Just to keep himself at the forefront of your mind.
Whenever you were talking to someone who was standing a little close to you or Levi just didn’t seem to trust them, he would use the pact.
If it was something small, then he would merely tease you with it. Just enough to have you promptly leave the other person’s company to come and find him.
But if he felt like someone was actually overstepping their boundaries. He would use it until you were shaking from pleasure.
Which was exactly the predicament you were in now. 
Asmo had asked you to go shopping with him. There was an event coming up and he wanted to choose your outfit. You gladly accepted, not thinking anything of it.
Levi had seen you walking around town with Asmo and couldn’t help but watch. You could never be too careful with Asmo. 
That point was proven when you went into a specific store with him. He had you try on multiple different outfits until you found the perfect one. 
When you finally did, Asmo let out a squeal of joy and then placed a kiss on your cheek. Asmo was an affectionate person. You knew he gave small kisses and hugs whenever he could - to anyone.
Levi knew that too; but, his feelings for you were clouding his judgment as the image of Asmo’s lips on your cheek was burned into his mind.
You didn’t even know Levi had seen the whole ordeal until you went into the dressing room to change and suddenly got turned on.
You instantly knew then that he had been nearby. And you knew the situation was only going to escalate.
The dressing room was your best option. Leaving it would risk further embarrassment. You did whatever you could to stifle the noises you were making. It was a small store so one slip up and everyone would know.
Asmo already did. He sensed the lust coming from you the moment you entered the dressing room.
You stayed in there until Levi was done and you rode out the high. You felt a bit lightheaded but quickly finished changing into your normal clothes before exiting the dressing room.
Asmo had a knowing smile on his face as you approached him but you shot him a look that told him not to push your buttons.
Still, Asmo couldn’t resist making one remark.
“If Levi was that jealous, he could have come and done it in person.”
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You were talking to Lucifer in the Assembly Hall about some business regarding the exchange student program. Lucifer had some important information to give you and asked you to stay a little bit longer, much to Satan’s dismay.
Satan thought that Lucifer had been spending a little too much time with you and the fact is that he was starting to get jealous. And he hated being jealous of Lucifer of all people.
So, Satan thought it would be wise to make his claim on you and drive Lucifer away once and for all.
He made it back to the House of Lamentation in record time and immediately went to his room, a knowing smirk on his face.
He was more than ready to show you how good he can make you feel just through your pact bond. 
“What do you think of the exchange program so far?” Lucifer asked you. You opened your mouth to say something in response when you suddenly felt a jolt of pleasure.
Your eyes widened slightly as your cheeks began to turn pink. Really, Satan? Now?
Lucifer was giving you an expectant look and you did your best to push the thoughts of Satan out of your head.
“Sorry, what was the question?” you asked, trying to calm your heartbeat. Lucifer hesitated for a moment, before repeating his question just as Satan decided to pick up the pace.
“Oh-I-It’s great!” you replied, your cheeks flushing as you bit back the moans that were desperately trying to escape.
“Are you feeling alright?” Lucifer asked, his eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. You clenched your fists as you started losing focus.
“You know, I’m actually feeling a bit under the weather. Let’s continue this later!” you replied, quickly rushing out of the Assembly Hall before Lucifer could say anything else.
Though he had an idea of what was going on and the thought made him blush. Leave it to his brother to be so daring.
You barely made it to the bathroom at RAD before you came undone. Thankfully, there were no other students there.
You let out small pants and ran your hand through your hair as you did what you could to regain your composure.
You pulled out your D.D.D. and quickly clicked on Satan’s name. You could hear his smile as he answered the phone. He knew what he had done and he was as desperate to see you as you were to see him.
You took a deep breath before telling him, “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
You then hung up the call and gathered your things before making your way back to the House of Lamentation.
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Asmo is the most adventurous when it comes to alone time with himself. He believes pleasuring yourself is equally as important as pleasuring your partner.
Luckily for him, because he has a pact with you, he gets to do both at the same time.
Asmo will set the scene with music and scented candles and he’ll make a whole night of it. 
He started slow and watched as his pact began to light up. His eyes glowed with the pact as he could feel himself getting more excited at the idea of you.
Where were you right now? Were you in public or were you studying somewhere quiet? Asmo didn't care about others hearing your moans of pleasure. He wanted them to, in fact. He wanted everyone to know how satisfied he could make you.
You happened to be at RAD though, in the school library. And a library was not a place for you to make such noises.
You knew what Asmo was doing the second he started. A blush immediately rose to your cheeks as you carefully stood up from your seat. 
Luckily, Asmo was starting slow and you could manage the feeling without too much attention on you.
You slowly began packing your things into your bag, focusing on each breath you were taking. You were doing everything you could to act natural. 
But, then Asmo started picking up the pace and you dropped three of your books. You let out a small gasp as people began looking in your direction. Your blush deepened as you gripped the table, trying to regain control of yourself.
But, Asmo didn’t stop and you realized you needed to leave the library as soon as possible. 
So, you rushed out of the library, leaving your books and bag on the table. Luckily, there weren’t many students in RAD at that time, so finding a quiet place wasn’t that hard. 
You closed the door just in time and pressed your back against it, doing your best to stifle your moans as Asmo brought the two of you to your climax.
As you started to come down, you were breathing heavily, your head still clouded. But you knew Asmo, and you knew round two would be coming shortly after.
You ran back to the library, shoving everything in your bag before practically sprinting home. 
As soon as you entered the House of Lamentation, you threw your bag onto the ground and went to Asmo’s room, not even bothering to knock on the door.
You knew exactly what you were going to see when you opened it, but you weren’t concerned about interrupting.
Asmo immediately smiled when he saw you, trailing his eyes over your body. “Are you okay, Y/N? You’re looking a little…bothered,” Asmo stated, confidence shining in his eyes.
Smug.
Part of you wanted to yell at Asmo for doing that to you in a public place. But the fact of the matter was that you were bothered and he was right there in front of you looking like a Greek God. 
So, you simply shut the door and let Asmo pleasure you the real way. Where you could feel every place his lips touched, and every movement his hands made.
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Beel might seem quiet and less forward than his other brothers. But he still had needs. Needs that he preferred that you fill for him. But if you weren’t around to do so, he would settle for himself.
Most of the time Beel was too distracted by food to get frustrated. When he was in the mood, you were almost always there with him. And if you were in the mood, he would drop what he was doing.
But there weren’t many instances where he was turned on while you weren’t there to help him. That was until today at least.
Mammon had begged you to do a photoshoot with him. The magazine was desperate for models and agreed to give Mammon a cut of whatever photos were taken if he found another model.
You agreed - reluctantly - and asked Beel to come along. With the promise of food of course.
You sat with Beel, making small talk, as Mammon did his part of the shoot. Then when he was done, you went to get ready.
Beel had finished eating and was now patiently waiting for your turn so that he could take you back to the House of Lamentation and spend some time with you.
What he was not expecting was for you to come out in such a risque outfit. Beel’s eyes immediately widened as he saw you, a blush rising to his cheeks.
There was still so much time left in the shoot and with the way you were looking - Beel didn’t think he could wait until it was done. Maybe you and he could have some intimate time afterward. But - he needed something now.
You could feel tension building inside of you and you quickly looked for Beel. Only to notice he wasn’t in the spot that you left him in. Not good.
You quickly changed outfits, trying to knock the pictures out as fast as you could before Beel found somewhere secluded.
It was too late though and you struggled to hold back as pleasure began building. Just a few more pictures.
The bright flash of the camera only seemed to add to your stimulation and you couldn’t take it any longer.
“Okay! We’re done,” you announced, calling it quits for the day. You were still scheduled to shoot a couple more pictures. But you couldn’t - not right now. 
You went to the nearest room with a door and quickly shut it, clenching your jaw as you sank to the ground, the feeling of pleasure overwhelming you.
When you were done, you left the room and immediately went to find Beel. 
He was coming out of a different room and his eyes immediately met yours. He saw your glazed-over eyes and messy hair and gave you a small smile.
“Sorry,” he told you, placing a gentle kiss on your lips before adding, “You looked great up there.”
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As if it wasn’t obvious, Belphie had a hard time staying awake in class and his grades were starting to slip because of it.
Lucifer had come to you with the task of trying to find a way to keep Belphie awake in class. And although it was an impossible task, you promised to do your best.
It had started with gentle nudges and softly shaking the youngest brother awake. But, within a matter of moments, Belphie would be falling right back asleep.
You moved on to a method that had proven to catch his attention. You carefully leaned over and whispered things in his ear that made him snap his eyes open in an instant. Promises of things you would only do if he managed to stay awake in class.
It was proper motivation for Belphie who was now sitting upright. He whispered questions back to you. Some of them were so forward, you couldn’t help but laugh.
When you did, the teacher caught on to the fact that you and Belphie were engaged in some funny business and decided to separate you. 
That didn’t stop you from teasing Belphie though. And he kept his eyes glued to every little thing that you did, growing more and more frustrated.
Your method of keeping Belphie awake had turned into a fun game for you and a much more frustrating one for Belphie.
Luckily for Belphie though, he had a free period after this class and he knew that you did not. A sadistic smirk began to form on Belphie’s lips as he thought about his revenge.
As soon as the bell rang, Belphie left without even saying a word to you. You thought it was a bit strange because he usually walked you to your next class. But you didn’t have the time to investigate.
You went to class and took your place next to Satan who was already nose deep in his book. You greeted him quickly before pulling out your own materials.
You started reading the book before you when you felt a sudden wave of pleasure wash over you. You let out a small gasp as your cheeks immediately flushed.
“Are you alright?” Satan asked, looking over at you curiously. “Fine,” you replied, knowing exactly what Belphie was doing.
Please, let me make it through this class.
But, Belphie knew everything about you. He knew what pace to go at to drive you crazy and you were quickly losing what little control you had over your body.
It had reached a certain point when you suddenly stood up from your desk, gripping the edge of it. Both the teacher and Satan immediately stared at you. 
He knew. He had to know. He was Satan after all. The best at deduction.
“I need to use the bathroom,” you told the teacher, not even waiting for an answer as you rushed out of the classroom. You swear you heard Satan chuckle as you left the room. But that was the furthest thing from your mind.
You rushed to the bathroom and when you went in, you found Belphie there waiting for you. Clever devil.
“You should know not to be a tease, Y/N,” Belphie said confidently.
You didn’t care if another student walked in on you and Belphie. You just needed his hands on you and he felt the same way.
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stolasdearest · 9 months ago
Note
is it okay if I ask for Alastor x Reader who is like angel dusts sibling and reader goes to Angel dust you talk about their lasting crush on Alastor?
Alastor x Reader ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
EVERYONE SHUT UP! YES I LOVE WINGMAN ANGEL
Not proofread + 4:30 Lilly so writing might differ
Reader is Gender neutral!
Being Angels sibling wasn't easy, at least within in the hotel..or outside of it for that matter; but in the hotel it was definitely better, at least everyone didn't try and talk to you about your brother and instead talk to you.
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You however had your eyes on someone very specific, a person not many people would have their eyes on..well, Maybe your brother in a— joking fucking around type of way; but your eyes were looking at the Tall Red demon in a very different way; a fond way you weren't all that used to.
Thing is you were the youngest in your family, that didn't rid you of your family's habits and mannerisms, So you weren't surprised when you ended up in hell alongside most of your family but your brother had kept you away from many scenes, that included partners; so your new found feelings for the Demon were overwhelming, suffocatingly so and you had no idea where to go with it, that lead you to go to the only person you trust in this newly found shit hole
"Anthony?"
"what's up, sweet cheeks?"
Angel was still not used to being called by his real name, But it was allowed in private from prying ears; he set fat nuggets down and sat up on the side of the bed; patting a spot next to him gesturing you to sit with him, a familiar smile on his face while you scooted next to him
"what's on your mind?"
"Alastor."
"oh—"
Angel laughed as you covered your face with your hands, His name bluntly slipping past your lips as you cringed at yourself
"he's like the Boogeyman, don't say his name too loud or he'll appearrr"
You smacked his arm and laughed, watching Angel make "scary" gestures as you both giggled amongst one another, before you patted your thighs and dramatically inhaled and sighed
"yeah yeah.. Boy troubles aye? Been there"
"yeah so help me"
"with him, Sweetie I can pray that's it"
"Anthony!!"
"sorry sorry!!"
Your big brother kneeled over laughing as you scoffed at him, crossing your arms with a pout as you cleared Your throat
"ANYWAY, I need help, I have no idea how to approach him— if at all!"
It took the spider demon a bit to compose himself Before he ran his fingers through his hair before looking at you, a sincere genuine look on his face, his voice soft and gentle; just like you remembered
"I don't know mister cheeky Alastor that much, but he does seem to like you, so I'd say go slow; test the waters or he might rip you to shreds"
You tensed, he was right and you were playing a dangerous game trying to woo the radio demon and you knew that but what'd you have to lose?..oh right your life yeah yeah
Falling flat on the soft bed you groaned; Alastor was tricky especially for someone who'd never flirted in their life so this was uncharted territory and you weren't exactly starting on beginner mode, you skipped straight to expert. Angel soon joined you in laying on the bed, him to staring at the ceiling as you pondered and wondered, He was probably zoning out but whatever, but after moments of silence Anthony soon realized this was a heavy topic on your heart so he turned on his side, pulling you to his side; one of his hands ruffling your hair
"worry about that tomorrow will you? You need your beauty sleep; Alastor won't date a slob"
"what won't I do?"
"AAAAHHHHH"
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Authors note: Sorry for the ending Im starting to get a headache😭😭
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angelicyoongie · 7 months ago
Text
lovesick (XVl / finale)
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— pairing: yandere ot7 x (f) reader — word count: 13.3k — warnings: yandere, obsessive behaviour, explicit sexual content unprotected sex, breast play, fingering (vaginal), VERY mild d/s, consensual punishment (spanking), consensual voyeurism (jimin watches like the freak that he is). — summary: You dreamed of the day you would get your very own soulmark. Though, you didn’t expect to wake up to a searing hurt in your arm, the phantom pain of your shoulder being dislocated and your forearm fractured. As if dealing with the worst possible soulmark ever wasn’t bad enough, you also have to come to terms with the fact that you’re being stalked. When the letters and gifts you receive begin to escalate and the police offers no help, you have no other option than to figure out who’s behind it yourself – and hopefully before it’s too late. — a/n: please read the author's note at the end of the chapter!
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Previous - Masterlist
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It takes six months before you finally hear the words you've been waiting so desperately for.
"Sunshine, we've been talking and we think it's time we relocate to somewhere else." 
Your fork clatters to the table, clicking loudly against your plate. You wonder for a moment if you're dreaming – if your brain has started to hallucinate scenarios to make up for how suffocated you feel in this cabin – but Jimin's hand squeezing your knee is too real to be made up.
"What?" You breathe, shocked. 
"We can't stay here for much longer, baby, the station uses the cabin sporadically throughout the summer months," Jimin says. He takes a bite of his food, shrugging as he admits, "Our stay here so far hasn't exactly been legal. I'd rather not get us all in trouble for using the place unauthorized." 
"We know how cooped up you've been here," Seokjin adds, giving you a sad smile, "We never planned on staying here this long but we had to figure some things out first. We wanted to find a place that was perfect for us, somewhere that could be our home, so we couldn't rush it." 
You drop your hands into your lap, clutching them together tightly. You hope it's enough to hide how badly they're trembling, blood pumping loudly in your ears as it dawns on you that this is your ticket out. You might not be able to escape, not in the way you attempted so many months ago at least, but it's a start. The boys wouldn't make this decision if they didn't trust you, if they didn't feel confident enough in your connection that you won't try to run away from them. 
And you won't. 
You've come to terms with your situation; that your soulmates need you to get better. 
Though you haven't had much of a choice, you have decided that you're going to stay until the bond settles, just until they stop being so obsessive and paranoid. Maybe then you'll be able to go back to the life you had before and do everything right with them this time.
The you from six months ago would've been disgusted that you're even entertaining the thought of giving them a second chance, but you know better now. Your soulmates are sick. Perhaps with time, and a lot of therapy, they will be able to understand what they've been putting you through and try to make amends for it. 
You know that the healthy thing to do would be to run away without a backward glance but you can't. Try as you might to hate it, your soul – your heart – has long since accepted them. You can't quite call it love, not with the circumstances of how those feelings came to be, but you do like them. 
"It's some hours away but it's a quaint home, just big enough for the eight of us. It's on the outskirts of– the city! So it has a big garden and a lot of picturesque trails around it," Seokjin's voice cracks as he almost lets the town name slip, Namjoon elbowing his side with a low hiss. 
"It's perfect for taking Yeontan on walks!" Taehyung pipes up with a grin, sneaking the whining pup at his feet a piece of sausage. 
You're not surprised that the boys aren't willing to share any information about the new house and place you'll be moving to. They may not be as paranoid as they were at the beginning but that still doesn't mean that they have full faith in you just yet. But you expected that. You just need to play your cards right – stay at the house until they let their guards down and then, maybe, you'll be able to slowly lay down the foundation you need to convince them to let you go back to your home. 
"That sounds lovely," You smile, glossing over Seokjin's blunder. 
Needing to act as normal as possible, you once again pick up your fork and try to resume eating your dinner. The piece of chicken you shove into your mouth doesn't taste like anything, your nerves making everything bland and tough to chew. But you push through, moving around some rice on your plate as you nonchalantly say, "But what about your jobs? Jungkook's degree? I would hate for our move to affect you like that." 
"You don't have to worry about that," Jimin squeezes your knee, "I'll be commuting with Seokjin hyung and Hoseok hyung. Namjoon hyung has been hired at the library in the city we're moving to and Jungkookie is going to finish the rest of the semester online." 
"Taehyungie and I can work a lot from home, so we're planning on doing that. We might have to go into the office now and then, but that's no problem," Yoongi supplies. He gives you a fond look as he says, "We're hoping it'll make the transition into the new house easier for you since some of us will always be home to spend time with you." 
And it'll be easier to make sure you don't do anything stupid. 
"Ah, I see, that's nice," You say. "Thank you for thinking of me." 
"Always," Namjoon grins sweetly, his dimples indenting his cheeks. 
It might not be a lot to go off, but the fact that the majority of them are planning on commuting every day must mean that the new city can be too far away from your old one, even if you don't know exactly where it is yet. An hour, maybe a little more, if they're being extra careful. You can work with that.
Hoseok catches your gaze from across the table, his expression earnest as he says, "We want you to be able to have a normal life, Y/n. With us."
"I know our methods have been a bit..." He trails off with a small grimace, no doubt thinking about what transpired in his shop and everything that followed. You can't exactly say that Hoseok looks remorseful, none of them do, but there is a touch of shame in their faces that hasn't been present before.
"I won't apologize for what happened because that's what led us here and gave us the chance to grow closer like we were supposed to all along. But, we want to do better by you and we're going to do our best to make sure that happens." 
The others voice out their agreement, nodding along to Hoseok's words. 
You shove a mouthful of rice into your mouth to dampen your sigh.
You're not even sure why you feel disappointed by the fact that the boys refuse to apologize for what they did to you, you already know they don't feel bad about it. Still, perhaps the part of you that likes them was hoping for it nonetheless. Maybe it would be easier for you to accept everything that has happened if they did – if they admitted that they had hurt you and wanted to repent for it. But, you're probably going to have to wait a very long time before that day ever comes – if, it ever comes.
Swallowing your food, you try to shake off any useless thoughts. You need to focus on the future, on the fact that you'll be regaining a sliver of freedom soon. 
You move one hand under the table, covering Jimin's hand with yours. 
Squeezing it, you hope you don't sound too eager as you ask, "So, when do we leave?" 
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Two weeks. 
You figured the move would happen soon, but not that quickly. The boys must have planned this for a long time, far longer than they let on, because there's no way they could have closed on a house this fast. 
The day after they told you of their plans, Namjoon had already begun moving some of his books out of the cabin. Truthfully there wasn't much any of you needed to pack up, only a few random personal belongings and decor elements that had been placed here and there to make your stay a little more cozy. In the end, it all fit into three boxes placed neatly by the door.
A few days before the move, the boys spent an hour rearranging the furniture back to how it was when you had first arrived, erasing any trace of the last six months with it. It was as if no one had ever been there in the first place, as if it hadn't served as a prison for half a year.
When you first arrived you wondered if you would ever be able to leave, and now, you're about to do just that. 
"Y/n."
You turn around as Yoongi calls your name, watching as he steps closer with a piece of fabric between his hands. Yoongi unfolds it under your gaze, revealing it to be a black opaque scarf. 
"We're all ready to go, love, but you have to cover your eyes with this," Yoongi frowns apologetically. "We want to trust you, but for everyone's peace of mind, this is the best thing to do. It's just until we arrive at the house." 
You eye the scarf for a moment, flashing Yoongi a weak smile as you say, "It's okay, I understand." 
He steps closer, bringing the fabric up to your face. The material is soft, and cool, as it covers your eyes, blocking out any semblance of light. The scarf is wide enough that it covers everything from your eyebrows to the tip of your nose, removing any chance you might have had to tilt your head to peek at the outside world. You should've figured they would've been prepared for that possibility. 
Yoongi's hands are careful as he ties the scarf behind your head, making sure he doesn't tangle or tug at your hair in the process. You can feel his breath against your cheek as he binds it securely, double knotting it to make sure it's not going to come undone. 
"All done," Yoongi announces softly, curving one hand along the back of your neck. He tilts your head up slightly, just enough for his lips to brush against yours. Your eyes fall shut despite the darkness already hindering your vision, leaning forward to catch his lips in a proper kiss. 
Yoongi indulges you for a few seconds before he steps back, removing his hands. 
"Come back," You pout, your fingers searching blindly for his coat. 
"We're going to be late, love, the others are waiting for us," You can hear the smile in Yoongi's voice as he grabs your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. 
As if summoned, the cabin door flies open, Jungkook's voice echoing slightly in the near-empty cabin as he asks, "Are you coming, hyung? Y/n? We're all ready to go." 
You let Yoongi lead you forward, your steps a little unsteady despite his promise that nothing is in your way. Jungkook grabs your other hand as you near the door, chattering excitedly about how he brought some of your favourite snacks for the trip as they both help you down the stairs. 
Your heart jumps, picking up speed, as you hear the steady thrum of a car motor running. You can't believe this is actually real – you're truly leaving this place for good. You know that Taehyung, Jimin, and Namjoon have already left, the boys eager to get everything in order at the new house before your arrival. 
You're maneuvered into the car without too much trouble, Hoseok clicking your seatbelt into place as you're placed between him and Jungkook in the backseat. You find a bag of sweets dumped into your lap the moment you're situated, Hoseok chiding Jungkook lightly for startling you. Yoongi has taken his place in the front seat, groaning loudly as Seokjin declares that as the driver; he's going to be responsible for the music and that no one is allowed to complain about his choices. 
You lean back in your seat, getting yourself comfortable between Jungkook and Hoseok. Their bodies being flushed with yours in the cramped car feels grounding, the feel of their strong thighs pressed against yours being something you can easily divert your focus to with your sight momentarily blocked. Seokjin and Yoongi bicker as the car begins to pull away from the cabin, the gravel road crunching loudly under the wheels. 
Finally.
Knowing there's no chance of you catching a glimpse of the surroundings on the way there, not with the blindfold so securely wrapped around your head, you slump to the side, resting your head on Hoseok's shoulder. Slender fingers wrap around yours as Hoseok takes your hand into his lap, his thumb moving soothingly across your knuckles. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to zone out and daydream about all of the possibilities ahead of you. It's not like the boys are going to magically become more trusting the moment you arrive at the new house but the move will open new doors for you – give you more opportunities to show them that they can lower their guards and trust the bond without any consequences.
They don't have to worry about you running away anymore.
The boys seem content to let you rest on the drive over to the new house, filling the silence between songs with jokes and lighthearted bickering. You easily accept the pieces of candy that are pressed to your lips at steady intervals, smiling at Jungkook and Hoseok's pleased words whenever you accept their offers. Before you know it, the car begins to slow down and you hear Seokjin exclaim, "Ah, there it is!" 
The door on Hoseok's side is opened the moment the car stops, Taehyung whining loudly about how long it took you to get there. You follow their lead out of the car and inside the new house, placing one foot blindly in front of the other. 
"We'll show you the outside later, babe," Taehyung promises as he steers you forward with both hands securely placed on your shoulders, "We just want to see your reaction to the inside of the house first." 
Namjoon helps you slip off your shoes as you step into the house, the smell of a freshly cleaned floor hitting your nose. Taehyung urges you to walk forward a bit more before he stops you, his hands moving from your shoulders to untie the knots behind your head. 
"We hope you'll like your new home, darling," Namjoon says, revealing a hint of nervousness in his tone. 
You're practically bursting with anticipation as Taehyung undos the first knot, the wooden floorboards under your feet giving you the impression that this is likely an older, more traditional, house. You blink as the blindfold finally falls away, the sudden burst of light stinging your eyes.
Your lips part in surprise as your vision adjusts, taking in the space in front of you. 
You're standing in the middle of a large entryway, the area opening up into a big combined living and dining room. One wall is practically filled with windows, letting lots of beautiful sunlight stream in and warm up the space. You notice a massive couch on one side of the room, the size of it definitely big enough to comfortably seat eight people at once. It's facing the built-in fireplace in the wall in front of it, a big TV hung above it. The dining room portion has a lovely intricate hardwood table with eight matching chairs pushed up against it.
You notice that one of the smaller walls has a bookcase spanning the entire width of it, already half-full with what you can only assume to be Namjoon's books. You do recognize little trinkets here and there that the boys kept at the cabin, and even a few larger plants you eyed when you visited Seokjin's shop way back then. 
"I love it," You gasp, stunned at how well they've designed the living room. 
It does feel cozy – home-y, even. 
"I told you the couch was the right choice!" Taehyung walks into the room, grinning smugly at Jimin. 
Jimin rolls his eyes, "It would've looked too out of place if it wasn't for the rug that I found to go along with it." 
"There they go again," Hoseok sighs behind your back. He nudges your shoulder gently, voice low as he says, "They're going to keep doing that for a while. Why don't we go look at the kitchen in the meantime?" 
"Please," You nod, excited to see if the rest of the house looks as good as the living room. You follow Hoseok's lead back to the entry and through the open door on the left, the rest of the boys trailing behind you. 
"The kitchen needed an upgrade so we let Seokjin hyung and Yoongi hyung design it since they do the majority of the cooking," Hoseok scratches his neck, a little sheepish as he pauses next to the large island in the room.
The kitchen is sleek and modern, definitely newer than what you've seen of the house so far, but not out of place by any means. It just feels inviting and bright, like a breath of fresh air. Maybe cooking won't be so bad if you can do it in a kitchen like this. 
"It looks great," You comment, walking around the island to marvel at some of the fancier appliances that are out on display on the counters.
"Thank you, angel," Seokjin preens. He shares a pleased look with Yoongi over your compliment, the younger man's cheeks flushed from the praise.
You catch sight of the pretty, colourful garden outside as you walk past the sink. Looking outside the window above it, you find that spring is already in full bloom here. While you had noticed a few more wildflowers around the cabin a few days before you left, it's nothing compared to the abundance of flowers and shrubs that are blossoming here. 
The view makes you smile. You know your stay here isn't permanent but it does make your heart flutter to know that you're going to be spending your foreseeable future here – in a lovely house with a pretty garden – and not an old cabin in a dark forest. The boys did well by picking this house, it's the type of place you actually would like to live in. 
"Y/n, let's go have a look at the downstairs bathroom and study before we move upstairs," Seokjin says, gesturing to the hallway.
You can still hear Taehyung and Jimin's heated discussion as you cross over the entry to look at the rooms on the opposite side of the house, the french double doors leading to the study winning you over immediately. Both rooms look like they've gotten a recent refresh, the new paint and tiles the boys picked out for the bathroom nicely complementing the old features of the home. The house is the perfect blend of rustic and modern.
Jungkook grabs your hand as you turn to follow Yoongi up to the second floor, excitedly dragging you up the stairs ahead of the others. He quickly explains that the second-floor houses all three bedrooms and an additional two ensuite bathrooms. Jungkook eagerly tells you about the choices they made for the bedrooms, from the color of the wall to the bedside tables to even the small light near the window that projects stars on the ceiling when it's dark out. 
Yoongi takes special care to point out the wainscoting he put up in the second bedroom and he flashes you a gummy smile as you praise him for the work he's done. You drag your fingers over the soft duvet on the seemingly king-sized bed in the room, a lightbulb going off in your head as you remember that there are only three bedrooms. 
"Wait, if there's only three beds, what are the sleeping arrangements going to be like?" 
Hoseok speaks up from where he's leaning against the wall, "We're all going to share, sunshine. Some of us will have to stay overnight in the city due to our jobs every so often so that should clear up some space, but aside from that, we'll be sharing beds." 
The surprise must be evident on your face, because Namjoon grimaces and quickly supplies, "We know we've been neglecting each other as soulmates. We don't feel the bond in the same way as we do with you but we are connected regardless. This... well, this is our attempt at strengthening that connection. We're trying to accept that the bond goes eight ways – not just one." 
You find yourself speechless at what you've just heard. You knew that the bond was slowly mellowing them out but you never thought that it would start affecting the connection between them as well. If that part of the soulbond starts to heal then... You might be able to get back to your normal life sooner than you first dared to hope for. 
"We still have one more room to look at, love," Yoongi touches your hip, nudging you towards the door. None of the boys seem to expect a response to what Namjoon just told you, understanding that the news has left you a little dumbfounded. 
Taehyung and Jimin must have resolved their bickering during your tour, the two of them waiting by the door to the final room, giggling at something on Taehyung's phone. The hot and cold behaviour the boys have towards each other does give you a whiplash most days but you suppose that too might become less frequent as the bond between them finally gets the nurture it's been needing for years. 
"We didn't want to complete this house without you," Yoongi explains as he pushes open the door. The last bedroom is noticeably less finished than the rest of the house, the walls a tired white and the furniture non-existent aside from another king bed. "This is your home just as much as it's ours, so we'd really like it if you want to help us design the final bedroom." 
"I'd love that," You grin, eager for a project you can occupy some of your time with. 
"We'll be collecting your things soon, babe," Jimin adds, "Your lease is up on your apartment and you don't need it anymore, so we'll take turns packing up everything and bringing it over next weekend." 
You stare at the blank wall, heart sinking in your chest. Somehow, you had forgotten about your lease. A burst of anger you haven't felt in a while bubbles up under your skin, the urge to scream and curse at them taking over your body. But what good will it do? 
In their eyes, this is your new home. The need for your apartment is now obsolete. 
You breathe slowly through your nose, quelling the flames before they can burn too hot. You may lose your apartment, your home, for now, but that doesn't mean you can't make a new home somewhere else later. You'll be fine. You're sure Heejun and Jaemin will gladly let you crash on their couch until you figure something out. For now, you just have to accept the situation for what it is and play along. 
You have missed your things, so it'll be nice to be able to make this house your own for however long you'll need it. 
"Great, thank you," You grit. 
For once, Jimin seems oblivious to your snark. He throws an arm around your shoulders, bumping his forehead against yours as he grins and says, "C'mon babe, let's go have a look at the garden. I think you're going to love it." 
You throw a glance towards the window, plastering on a convincing smile as you say, "I'd like nothing more, Jiminie." 
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Time passes quickly in the new house once you begin to settle in.
The unfinished bedroom gets decorated to your liking, the walls repainted and the newly hung shelves display most of the little knick-knacks from your old apartment. As spring begins to bleed into summer, you take on the task of getting the already stunning garden ready for the warmer weather. You often find yourself outside with Jungkook or Yoongi, weeding around the plants or mowing the grass to make sure Yeontan has a nice, safe space to run around in. The pup loves to dig up anything that has been freshly planted, so someone must always watch him like a hawk whenever the soil has been recently turned. You've already lost a bed of beautiful purple hyacinths once and you don't want to make that mistake again (even if the picture of Yeontan napping in a pile of flowers was a little cute). 
Truly, it's all too easy to fall into a new routine and it doesn't take long before you know the boys' schedules by heart. Jimin, Seokjin, and Hoseok are away the most since the nature of their jobs doesn't allow them to work from home. Seokjin and Hoseok have hired more helpers to be able to spend the full weekend at home, in addition to a day or two here and there when they work on the administrative side of their businesses. Jimin, however, doesn't have that option. He often spends three days at the time in the city, his shifts too long and tiring for him to be able to make the drive back and forth every day.
You miss him whenever he's away and it's becoming quite obvious that the others do too. Jungkook and Taehyung in particular often mope around the house when Jimin is working his shifts, lamenting about how unfair it is that he has to stay there for days all by himself. Even if you're a little surprised at how quickly the bond has grown between the boys, you do admittedly find it awfully sweet to see them puppy-piling whoever has been gone for a day or more whenever they return to the house. Though, you always grow a little wary when Jimin comes back, as the days apart usually leave him a little more hungry for mischief than usual. 
You can already tell that Jimin is up to something the moment he steps into the house, his eyes sparkling with interest despite his tired complexion. Your suspicion wavers slightly during dinner with Hoseok and Seokjin, as Jimin keeps yawning between bites and resting his head heavily against your arm the moment he's done eating. He stays glued to your back as you all shuffle into the living room after, hugging you tight to his chest as he settles down on the couch. He only hums in agreement when Seokjin proposes a few rounds of Mario Kart, letting out a tired sigh as he hooks his chin over your shoulder to watch them. 
Jimin has one hand tucked under your sweatshirt, petting over the bare skin on your waist while he nuzzles his face against your neck. The gestures are innocent and sleepy, and you find your guard lowering with every round Hoseok and Seokjin play.
You snort as Hoseok gets hit with a blue shell just as he's about to cross the finish line, Seokjin letting out a whop as he races past him. 
"You're such a cheater!" Hoseok huffs, glaring at the teasing dance Seokjin does to celebrate his fifth win in a row. 
"Sorry to burst your bubble, Hobi, but you're just not as good as I am," Seokjin grins. "I never lose once I set my mind to something, you know that." 
"You're too full of yourself, hyung," Hoseok shakes his head as he gives Seokjin's shoulder a light shove. 
"And you're a sore loser," Seokjin quips, laughing as he gets pushed to the ground. He swats Hoseok's hands away as he tries to wrestle with him, his squeaky laughter filling the room as Hoseok grumbles out his protests. 
The hand on your waist suddenly stills just as Seokjin's laughter lulls. The mischief is back in Jimin's voice as it brushes against your neck, his tone taunting as he says, "Maybe it's time you brought Seokjin hyung down a peg, huh, Hoseok hyung?" 
You hold your breath as Hoseok and Seokjin both freeze, their heads slowly turning to face the couch. 
"What are you talking about, Jimin?" Seokjin, never one to entertain Jimin's antics for too long, purses his lips as he stares him down. 
"You do win almost every game we play, hyung, that's true, but you've also played more video games than all of us combined. Maybe if you and Hoseok hyung played a game that was more.. level to your experiences, it would be more fair?" Jimin proposes.
"What kind of game are we talking about here?" Hoseok asks. You can tell his curiosity is winning out over his usual disdain for Jimin's 'games', his eyes tracking Jimin as the younger brings one hand up to your jaw, turning your head to the side. 
You let out a stuttered breath as you meet Jimin's hungry gaze, his glossy lips twisting into a smirk as he looks you dead in the eyes and says, "How about a competition to see who can fuck our baby better?" 
You hear Seokjin sputter on the floor as Hoseok lets out a pained groan.
"Hyung! You almost kneed me in the balls! Are you seriously still trying to cheat?" 
"I'm not– I'm surprised!" Seokjin retorts with a squeak, "I didn't think that little devil would joke around with something like that!"
"I'm not joking though," Jimin hums as he strokes his thumb along your jaw. "Wouldn't it be interesting to see who would win – who Y/n would crown the best?" 
Jimin's gaze leaves yours for a second as it glides down to his hyungs on the floor, the corner of his mouth quirking into a mocking smile as he says, "Or maybe you're just too scared to find out who she prefers? I guess it might be better for you to give up now Hobi hyung, if you're not confident that you can beat Seokjin hyung."
Your lips part in surprise as you realize that Jimin is serious about his proposal, that he's trying to goad them into competing. It's a low blow and an obvious one too, but you don't think Hoseok and Seokjin care – not when Jimin is openly questioning their ability to pleasure you. 
Seeing Hoseok's brows furrow in thought, Jimin returns his attention to you. He leans forward to slot your mouths together, taking advantage of the access you've given him as he pulls you into a deep kiss. His tongue dips past your lips right away, curling around your own as he holds you still. You can't help the moan that tumbles out as Jimin ravages your mouth, the sounds wet and filthy as he kisses you passionately.
You slump into Jimin's arms, letting him take full control of the kiss. It's only when you start to turn lightheaded that you turn your head away, gasping for air as Jimin moves his mouth to your jaw. You glance with hooded eyes down at the floor as you attempt to catch your breath, your stomach doing a flip as you notice how affected Hoseok and Seokjin seem. They're both turned on by the little show Jimin put on for them, their bulges prominent and straining against their pants.
The tension in the room is palpable. Seokjin and Hoseok look like they're teetering on the edge between hesitance and hunger – both wanting what Jimin is proposing, but still holding themselves back from accepting it. 
You know Jimin can sense it by the way he makes you moan as he sucks your skin between his teeth, leaving his mark on your delicate throat. He lets out a low chuckle at the sharp intake of breath he hears from Seokjin. 
"If the two of you aren't going to pleasure Y/n then you better say your goodnights now. I'll make sure to fuck her twice as good as either of you ever could. Hmm.. Do you think she'll even remember your names once I'm done?" He purrs against your neck, kissing his way back up to your lips. 
"What do you think, baby? Should the two of us go upstairs, or do you want to see what the hyungs can do to you?" 
While you don't particularly agree with Jimin's methods, you can't deny the fact that you have been curious about when Seokjin and Hoseok were going to get intimate with you. You've had countless make-out sessions with each of them, heavy petting involved, but it's never gone beyond that. The boys have been giving you some space to settle in properly and get your bearings in the new house but you've reached the point where you're honestly a little desperate to be touched. You want them to fuck you. And for all of Jimin's schemes, even you can agree that this one sounds fun – hot, even. 
"I–" You shudder at the way Jimin presses his thumb against the bruise he left, eyes fluttering closed as you shyly admit, "I wouldn't m-mind, but I don't want to pressure them–" 
"Fuck," Hoseok curses, pushing himself to his feet, "Whatever, I'm in."
He sends a sharp look down at Seokjin, "You better not chicken out." 
"Yeah, hyung," Jimin chimes in, "Are you forfeiting your chance to finally fuck Y/n? Who knows when you'll be able to do it later when she has five other soulmates who already know her body so well."
Seokjin's jaw is clenched so tight it looks like it's going to break, his expression stormy as his eyes jump from person to person. His gaze lingers on you for longer, drinks in how affected you look after just a little kissing, how eager you seem to finally have your final two soulmates at your mercy. Even if he imagined your first time together to be a little more romantic and with a lot less Jimin, Seokjin can't deny that it's exciting to be able to prove himself as the best lover out of the group. 
"I'm not forfeiting anything," Seokjin huffs, standing up to join Hoseok. "I'll win this fair and square. Just don't be too sad when Angel picks me as the best lover, yeah?" 
Hoseok doesn't deign Seokjin with an answer, his sights already set on you. He brushes past his hyung with long strides, scooping you out of Jimin's arms and into his own. Hoseok rounds the coffee table to place you down on the other side, creating some space between you and the others, drawing a line he doesn't want anyone to cross.
You lean back against the table as he squats down in front of you, watching him with wide eyes as he reaches out to trace your bottom lip with one of his fingers. 
"Sunshine, don't you think you're being too much of a tease?"
Hoseok's gaze hardens as you inadvertently swipe your tongue along the line he just traced, your lip tingling from his touch. You feel the back of your neck flush as you realize what you just did, feeling bashful as you drop your gaze down to the floor.
The denial sits on the tip of your tongue, but you can't make yourself utter the words. Jimin is the one who was teasing them, firing them up, but you didn't exactly stop him either, did you? You're not ashamed to admit that you've been wanting Hoseok and Seokjin for a while now, and Jimin has practically served them up on a silver platter for you. 
"I–" You swallow thickly as you glance up and meet Hoseok's dark gaze, "I'm sorry?" 
Hoseok's mouth quirks, "I don't think you are, Y/n." 
Heat pools low in your stomach at Hoseok's astute observation, your thighs clenching helplessly under his sharp gaze.
"You deserve a little punishment for that, sunshine, don't you agree?" He hums.
The last time you were 'punished' was humiliating and not something you had agreed to at all. But this time, you're given the option to deny him, to walk away if you so wish. Despite everything they've done, you know they don't want to force you to do something you don't want to do. 
Truthfully, it does make you a little nervous to give Hoseok full control, but the soulbond will never settle until you show him that you're willing to put your full trust in him. 
"Yes," You weakly agree, embarrassed, knowing that he's looking for a verbal answer.
Hoseok gives a pleased smile at your compliance, his fiery exterior cracking momentarily until he reins himself back in. 
"Good. Get on your hands and knees, Y/n, you're allowed to use the table for support if you need it." 
The flush on the back of your neck spreads up to your face as you do as you're told. You turn around, crawling forward on your hands and knees until you're upper body is resting on the coffee table, the position naturally pushing your bottom out. You suck your lip between your teeth as you look ahead to find Jimin cupping himself above his pants, his smile wicked. Seokjin has made his way onto the same couch, his usually sweet face all stoic and difficult to read as he watches you and Hoseok. His hands are digging into his jeans, resisting the urge to touch himself and follow in Jimin's footsteps. 
You lower your head as Hoseok positions himself behind you, his hands landing on the swell of your ass. He places a hand on each cheek, letting out a low groan as he kneads the flesh. 
"I think ten should do it for your punishment this time, sunshine," Hoseok says, warming up the area by alternating between squeezing and rubbing his palms in circles over your cheeks. 
"Okay," You say, your belly swooping with nervous anticipation. 
"Hoseok," Seokjin hisses, a warning that gets shushed by Jimin.
For a moment, too wrapped up in Hoseok's dominating aura, you had forgotten that they would all feel your punishment. Just like they did back then in the cabin.
Before you can change your mind though, Jimin adds a decisive, "If our baby can handle it, then you can handle it too, hyung." 
Seokjin sighs, clearly not willing to put up the fight. "Fine." 
Both of Hoseok's hands fall away at that, leaving you exposed to receive your punishment. Hoseok's shirt rustles as he raises his hand and it's the only warning you get before his palm lands heavy on your ass, the impact knocking your breath out of your lungs. The next six spanks come in quick succession, each harder than the last. It's only a small mercy that your skin is still covered, the sting still intense despite the slight padding between you and Hoseok's palm. The noises you've been trying so hard to suppress tumble out at the seventh blow, a strangled gasp passing through your lips as he makes contact.
"Good girl," Hoseok praises, pausing his hits to allow you a moment to regain your breath. He tuts as you try to pull away from the fingers stroking over your smarting cheeks. "Don't make me add more, Y/n. Take the rest of your punishment properly and I promise I'll reward you." 
You take a few deep breaths, nodding to let Hoseok know that you'll behave. 
The final three slaps are so forceful you're sure you're going to bruise, your body jolting forward over the table as the smacks rain down on your ass. You cry out at the last one, the sound caught between a moan and a whimper as your heart pounds in your chest. 
"Fuck, that's hot," Jimin curses, palming himself harder. "Stings like a bitch, though," He whines under his breath.
Hoseok goes back to massaging your cheeks, soothing the hurt down to a more manageable level. His fingers drift up to the waistband of your sweats, hooking into the fabric before he pauses and asks, "Are you ready for your reward now, sunshine?" 
"Please," You whimper. 
You lift your knees to help Hoseok pull your sweats and underwear off all in one go, legs shaking as you barely manage to raise yourself enough from the table to remove your shirt after.
"Look at you," Hoseok murmurs, gliding his fingers all over your exposed skin. He follows the curve of your spine, only stopping briefly to thumb across your burning cheeks before he drags his hands down your calves. Your breath hitches as he suddenly spreads your legs.
You're mortified to discover that Hoseok's punishment has made you wet, dripping, without you noticing it, your cunt clenching helplessly under Hoseok's burning gaze. "So pretty." 
You gasp as Hoseok drags a finger through your slit, rubbing and spreading the wetness all over your cunt. He stills near your entrance, teasing you by barely dipping his finger in before he slides it back up to your clit. The slow rubs around your nub cause your thighs to shake, your senses overwhelmed as he repeats the motion over and over. 
"Hoseok, please," You whimper, pushing your hips against his finger as he teasingly tries to dip it in again, the movement swallowing him up to the second knuckle. 
"Are you being impatient, Y/n?"
Hoseok pushes his finger deeper, feeling along your walls before he pulls out to add another one, the slide in easy with how turned on you are. It feels good to finally have something filling you up, your cunt clenching desperately around his digits whenever he goes to pull out. 
"I'll let it slide just this once, sunshine. It seems your cunt is hungry for something more." 
The next thrust of his fingers is harder, slightly curled, and you let out a loud moan as he bumps directly against your sweet spot. Two fingers turn to three, stretching your walls out in preparation for Hoseok's cock. You keep mindlessly moving your hips back, meeting every thrust of his fingers in hopes that you'll take him deeper, feel fuller. The knot in your belly keeps growing tighter and tighter, desperate for that final burst of pleasure to tip you over the scale.  
"Wait–" You gasp, throwing a look over your shoulder as Hoseok removes his fingers, your cunt empty and aching with nothing in it. 
"Don't worry," Hoseok presses himself flush with your back, his lips ghosting over your ear as he says, "I'm giving you what you want. Your sweet little pussy just needs a hard cock to fuck it good, hmm?" 
He rolls his hips against yours, the hardness in his jeans unmistakable. You let out a low keen, breathless as you admit, "Yes, yes, I need it." 
"You'll get it, sunshine," Hoseok presses open-mouthed kisses to your shoulders as he works his pants down his hips, his hard cock springing up against his stomach as he frees it from his boxers. Hoseok groans as he wraps one hand around himself, thumbing at his slit to spread the pre-come with a few quick pumps up and down his length. 
You both let out a moan as Hoseok rubs the head of his cock through your folds, making it even wetter. He positions himself at your opening, one hand gripping your waist as he pushes inside. Your walls open easily, practically sucking in half of his cock in one go. With how relaxed and eager you are, it only takes one firm thrust from Hoseok to bury the rest of him inside of you. 
"Oh gods," You groan, your fingers scrambling over the waxed tabletop for support as you desperately clamp down around his cock. 
"Are you ready, Y/n?" Hoseok places both hands on your waist, holding you still. He draws his hips back, leaving only the tip of his cock inside your cunt, teasing. You feel him twitch as you clench around him, his usually composed voice wavering just the slightest as he says, "I'll give you everything you need, you just have to ask." 
Your pride is already long gone, vanished into thin air at the first touch of Hoseok's skilled fingers. You're not above begging, not if it'll finally sate the arousal licking up the inside of your stomach. 
"Please fuck me, Hobi," You whine. 
The grip on your waist tightens, Hoseok's fingers digging into your flesh as he finally gets to hear the words he's only been dreaming about for so long. His eyes are dark are he stares down at your body, as he memorizes the way your cunt clings to his cock, aching to be filled. Not even the loud groan coming from the couch is enough to tear his gaze away, not when he has such a perfect vision right in front of him. 
"As you wish, my sunshine."
You have no way of preparing yourself for the way Hoseok snaps his hips forward, slamming into your cunt so hard it makes your back arch. Your arms give out under the brutal pace he sets, your hands fruitlessly gliding across the table for something to hold on to as he punches his cock in with every deep thrust. It's only the tight grip Hoseok has on your hips that keeps you from sliding across the surface.
Your head feels like it's filled with static, no thoughts forming beyond more, please, more, as Hoseok moves in and out of you. The harsh noise of Hoseok's skin slapping against yours causes another gush of arousal to wet your cunt, making it sound absolutely sloppy as he delivers another hard thrust, your slick squelching around his cock. 
"Fuck– Fucking hell, Y/n," Hoseok growls, the sound spurring him on as he lowers his thighs to snap his hips even faster, "Are you that desperate for cock, baby?" 
Your next moan is torn from your throat as the new angle causes Hoseok's cock to bump straight into your sweet spot, the unrelenting hammering of his length making you see stars. You can't even close your mouth properly to stop the drool that slides past your lips, your whole body numb with pleasure. 
Hoseok grunts as your walls flutter around him, his gaze flickering from the dazed expression on your face to the couch. He smirks as he sees Jimin with his hand around his cock, the younger's half-lidded eyes watching your fucked out expression intently as he strokes his length. Seokjin has finally caved too, palming himself slowly over his underwear, jeans discharged to the side. 
Hoseok grins as he meets Seokjin's narrowed eyes, his thrusts slowing down in favor of grinding his hips in deep, slow circles. One of his hands slides from your waist to your hair, grabbing a fistful of it to pull your head up. It leaves you staring straight at Seokjin and Jimin, moans and whimpers falling freely from your parted mouth as Hoseok pushes you closer and closer to the edge. 
Hoseok pats your side, voice a little mean as he says, "Did you already forget about our competition, Y/n? I need you to look at hyung while I fuck you and let him know that he won't be able to get the same pretty sounds out of you as I am." 
"Can you do that, sunshine?"
You shudder as he tugs on your hair, the faint sting traveling straight down to your cunt. 
"Y-yes," You gasp, getting your hands under your just enough to raise your head on your own, holding the position Hoseok has left you in. 
His fingers drift back down to your waist, ghosting over the skin there before he slips between your legs, grazing over your clit. The contact makes you jolt, and you both moan as it drives his cock deeper into your cunt.
"That's right, it's time for your reward, baby." 
He starts rubbing circles against your clit as his thrusts once again turn sharper, quicker. You have to fight to keep your eyes open, to keep holding Seokjin's burning gaze as you're pounded into the table. Being watched so openly, so attentively, only turns you on more. Your whole body is shaking, muscles pulled tight, as the wave of pleasure in your belly begins to crest. You know there's no way you can hold back, not with how determined Hoseok is to make you explode. You're bringing Hoseok there right along with you though, your cunt clenching so sweetly around his cock that he knows he's not going to last very long. 
It's a particularly deep thrust combined with Hoseok rolling your clit between his fingers that finally sends you over the edge. You cry out as you reach your climax, trembling as your release washes over you. Hoseok groans as your walls clamp down around him with a vice grip, his hips glued to yours as he grinds once, twice, before stiffening as his orgasm hits. You moan weakly as you feel his come spurt into your cunt, flooding it with warmth. 
You're not quite sure when your eyes slipped shut, but when you open them, you find Seokjin practically looming over you from the couch, jaw clenched. He must've pulled his cock out at some point, the length flushed red from the slow, unsatisfying drag of his fingers. You whimper as Hoseok presses a tender kiss to the back of your neck, Seokjin darkly watching the action like he's one second away from throwing Hoseok to the side to take his place. 
"You're amazing, Y/n," Hoseok says, massaging your sides as he slowly shuffles back and slips out of you. 
You let your head drop to the table, breathing hard as you try to catch your breath. Hoseok keeps rubbing your back until your limbs stop shaking and you feel a little more like yourself.
"Angel," Seokjin calls from the couch, "Are you sure you want to keep going? We can stop if you're tired." 
You push yourself up on your elbows, biting your lip as you take in the sight of Seokjin's hand wrapped around his hard cock, squeezing the base to keep his release from building without you. It twitches under your attention, another pearl of pre-come dripping out of the tip to slick up his length even more, coating his flushed skin. 
"I'm sure," You nod, glancing up at him through your lashes as you say, "Need you." 
"Fuck, alright," Seokjin curses, gripping his cock even tighter. "Come here then, angel, and you'll get what you want." 
The simmering heat in your belly roars back to life at Seokjin's words. You carefully push yourself up until you're standing on your feet, Hoseok's hands curled around your arms for support. You can feel Hoseok's come shift in your belly as take a step forward, whining as a bit drips out of your cunt and trails down to your thigh. 
Hoseok tsks. "You better keep all of that inside, sunshine. Don't waste another drop." 
You clench your walls tight, stumbling awkwardly over to the couch as you try to heed Hoseok's warning. Seokjin has already rid himself of his clothes by the time you reach him, his strong hands pulling you into his lap, making you straddle him. 
"Hi, angel," Seokjin smiles, cupping your face to run his thumb across your cheek. He winds the other around your middle, holding you close to his chest.
You practically melt into Seokjin's gentle embrace, nuzzling into his warm hand, "Hi yourself." 
Seokjin pulls you down to connect your lips with his, the softness of the first few pecks quickly turning more heated as he slips his tongue into your mouth. You bring your hands behind his neck, gliding your fingers through the soft hair there to tug him closer. The way Seokjin kisses you, hungry yet tender at the same time, leaves your head spinning. He swallows up the moan you let out, tongue twirling around yours as he uses his grip on your waist to grind you against his cock. 
You gasp at the first contact, at the feel of his hard cock slipping through your folds, bumping against your clit. You clench helplessly as Hoseok's come begins to leak out of your hole, your walls too stretched to hold it in. The spread of your legs makes it even harder, and the grind of Seokjin's length just arouses you more, making your cunt flutter with the need of being full again. You scrape your teeth along Seokjin's plush lips, whining as you say, "I-I can't–" 
His mouth pauses against yours as he feels something wet drip onto his thigh, understanding dawning on him as he feels your skin heat up with embarrassment. Seokjin removes his hand from your cheek in favor of bringing it down to your dripping cunt, scooping up the come clinging to your cunt before he fingers it back into you. 
"So messy," He murmurs, mouthing along your jaw as he adds another finger, pumping them slowly back and forth, pushing all of it deeper inside your pussy. The wet sucking sound of your cunt eagerly accepting it all back in makes you moan, eyes slipping shut as you hide your face in Seokjin's neck. 
He lets out a low chuckle at your shyness, removing his fingers to replace them with his cock. You mewl into Seokjin's neck as he guides his cock into you steadily, the hand on your waist slowly bringing you down until you're fully seated on his length. You can feel it throbbing deep in your guts, your breaths shaky as you adjust to him. 
"Gods, you feel so good," Seokjin moans as your wet, warm walls welcome him in, your and Hoseok's release slicking his cock. He moves both of his hands to your hips, gently rubbing the red marks Hoseok left there. 
You lightly raise yourself up before you sink back down, getting yourself used to the position and Seokjin's cock. You move your hands to his shoulders, setting a slow pace that gradually picks up as Seokjin's hands begin to roam. Your hips stutter as he reaches up to cup one of your breasts, flicking your nipple teasingly before he rolls it between his fingers, tugging on it in a way that makes your cunt vibrate with pleasure. He moans at the response he gets, his dark eyes drinking you in.
"Love your breasts," Seokjin groans, leaning forward to take it into his mouth, "You shouldn't keep them covered up, angel."  
"Seokjin, fuck," You dig your nails into his back as he closes his lips around your nipple, sucking it into his mouth as he swirls his tongue around the sensitive nub. Your next drop down on Seokjin's cock is a little harsher than before, a choked moan leaving you as your pleasure once again begins to build. Seokjin gives your other breast the same treatment, steadily rocking his hips up to meet yours as you ride him. 
He gives your nipple another swipe of his tongue before he kisses his way back up to your neck, biting down in a way you know is going to bruise. He wets the skin to soothe it, repeating the motion all over your throat as you reward him with pretty, breathy whimpers. You eventually grow restless and duck down to capture his mouth, the kisses filthy and messy as you keep rolling your hips. 
"Pretty," Seokjin moans between kisses, "You're so pretty, Y/n. Absolutely amazing." 
It's only when your thighs start shaking, burning with tiredness, that Seokjin takes over. His large hands grasp your ass, keeping a tight grip on your cheeks as he raises his knees to fuck into you. Seokjin picks up the pace from where you left off, his hands moving your body down to meet every thrust, impaling you on his cock with every stroke. He grunts as you clench down around him when he reaches particularly deep, brushing over your sweet spot. 
You slump against Seokjin's chest as he truly begins to lose his restraint, moaning against his skin as he pounds into you. The sting of your red cheeks slapping against Seokjin's hard thighs with every thrust just makes the fire in your stomach roar, the pleasure pain of it getting you to the finish line faster. 
You try to meet his thrust the best you can but the way Seokjin reaches so deep into your belly leaves you feeling a little dumbstruck, floaty. It's like your muscles have turned to jelly. 
Your cunt sounds sloppy as Seokjin hammers into you, fucking you so hard you swear you can see the outline of his cock in your stomach. Moans and whines fall freely from your lips, Seokjin's name gasped out with every thrust. Your oldest soulmate is feeling more competitive than he first let on and for a half second, you worry he might actually fuck you stupid in his quest to make you come harder than Hoseok could. 
You can feel him tensing up more with every thrust, as close to exploding as you are, the sounds of your skin slapping together echoing through the room. You don't want to come too soon, not without letting Seokjin finish too, but his next words do you in.
"You can let go now, angel," Seokjin half groans, half murmurs between one stroke and the next, "It's time to fill your pretty pussy to the brim – to stuff you full just like you wanted." 
You cunt spasms the moment you get permission to come, your walls hugging Seokjin's cock so firmly he can barely move his hips as your release hits you like a freight train. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as Seokjin grinds you down against his cock, your clit rubbing over his toned stomach. Your moans are unintelligible, slurred, as Seokjin keeps up his pace for another dozen thrusts. It prolongs your orgasm, your toes curling as Seokjin finally hits his own high. 
His loud moan sends another wave of pleasure crashing over you, your cunt massaging his length as he spills into it with hot spurts. Your arms are shaking like a leaf as you push yourself up, just enough to look at Seokjin's face.
He's a sight to behold with his head thrown back, his flushed chest rising and falling with every hard breath. His hair is messy from you tugging on it, his skin glowing with the sheen of sweat that has settled on you both. He looks beautiful.
You clumsily kiss his swollen lips, your body still too fucked out to work properly.
Seokjin opens his eyes slowly, grinning as he says, "There's my pretty girl." 
"Are you feeling okay?" He winds his arms around your back, plastering you against his racing heart. 
You open and close your mouth a few times, feeling dehydrated and exhausted, the words just a little too far out of your reach. 
You blink as Jimin suddenly pops into view, his smile bordering on feral as he reaches out to cup your cheek. "Oh, our poor baby is completely cock drunk," He coos.
You whine out a protest, too tired to engage in Jimin's teasing. He's also not... entirely wrong. 
"Thank you for the show, baby, you looked so fucking good," Jimin groans, adjusting himself in his sweats. He must have come while Seokjin was fucking you, too excited by the view in front of him to keep up with his comments. One of Seokjin's moans had sounded a little airer than normal, so you can only conclude that it was Jimin, hitting his own release while you were chasing yours. 
"It's a shame you're on birth control, otherwise the hyungs would've bred you so well," He pouts, his eyes shining with something wicked at the reaction it causes. 
You can't help but clench down around Seokjin, the dirty talk hot despite you not being close to ready to have kids. 
"Jimin," Seokjin warns, his cock twitching with interest inside your warm cunt. 
Even Hoseok lets out a pained groan from where he's perched on a nearby chair, his cock half-hard in his jeans. 
"Fine," Jimin huffs. He brushes his lips against yours, tone sweet as he asks, "Well then, baby, who won the competition? Which hyung fucked you the best?" 
You watch Hoseok tense up just as Seokjin's arms tighten around you, both anxious to know the result. You share a sly look with Jimin – one that makes him chuckle and shake his head – before you turn your face into Seokjin's neck, hiding your smile as you say, "Mhm.. It's a tie." 
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"What do you think?" 
You smack your lips together, savoring the slightly tangy sauce. Yoongi watches you carefully, the spoon still hovering near your lips.
"It's good!" You grin, "I think it's perfect." 
Yoongi's smile turns into a pout as he glances down at the spoon, "Ah, but now I can't taste it. Hyung would kill me if I double-dipped."
"Can't you just grab–"
Your words are cut off by Yoongi's lips, a sweet kiss being pressed against your mouth. He lightly sucks your bottom lip between his own, his tongue just barely dipping into your mouth. He flashes you a gummy smile as he pulls back, nodding in satisfaction, "You're right, it is perfect."
"Hey!" You whine, lightly hitting his shoulder, "You totally set me up."
Your heart flutters as Yoongi leans in again, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he says, "Maybe." 
He steals another kiss before he turns back to the simmering pot in front of him, the spoon abandoned in the sink. You huff, stepping up behind him to rest your head against his back, your arms wrapping around his middle. Yoongi always smells like forest and warmth, something pleasant you just want to lie down and sleep in. 
Yoongi hums a low tune as you stand there, basking in the warmth of his body and the promise of a tasty lunch. He places one hand on top of yours, petting your skin, as he slowly stirs the pot with the other. 
"Hyung, I'm hungry!" 
You open your eyes to find Taehyung walking into the kitchen, rubbing his stomach with a pout. He brightens up as he sees you, the magazines in his hand thrown to the counter as he quickly rounds it to attach himself to your back. 
"Babe, I thought you were still in bed," Taehyung whines against your neck.
"Got hungry," You giggle. You lean more of your weight onto Yoongi, laughing as he complains about having two clingy brats as soulmates. You can see the fond smile on his face as you peek over his shoulder, the way he easily braces his feet to accept the two bodies practically lying on top of him. 
"Oh right! How long until the food is ready, hyung? I'm starving," Taehyung sighs dramatically. "My client is a fucking ass, he went almost an hour over time in our meeting complaining about things I can't even fix. It's not my fault his secretary is useless." 
"I'm sorry, Tae. Can't you drop him if he's being too unreasonable?" You ask.
Taehyung grumbles against your neck, his body tight with tension, "I wish. He brings too much money to the company to even consider ending the contract with him. He knows he can act like an ass and get away with it because he's practically paying us to babysit him." 
Yoongi lets out an annoyed snort, shaking his head as he says, "I hate to say it, but he's not going to be the only shitty client you're going to have to deal with. It comes with the job." 
"I know, hyung," Taehyung sighs. "But you know what's not shitty? Your cooking! And having some of your food would definitely brighten me up." 
"Brat," Yoongi chuckles. "It'll be done in five minutes, you can go grab some plates while it finishes cooking." 
Taehyung gives the back of your head a loud smooch before he skips over to one of the cupboards, doing as Yoongi instructed. 
You finally detach yourself from Yoongi's back, smiling at Taehyung's antics as you glance over at the magazines he dropped off earlier. You reach out to shuffle through them, none of them particularly piquing your interest until you catch sight of a flyer tucked between two pages. 
You carefully pull it out, excitement thrumming through your body as you realize it's for a flower parade. Your eyes widen as you catch sight of the town name, knowing it's a city that's only about an hour away from your old one. You're not sure if the house is within its limit or if it's just a neighboring one, but it does finally give you an idea of where you are. You quickly glance up at Taehyung and Yoongi, deliberately placing your thumb over the name as you notice that neither of them has seen you with it yet. 
"What's this?" You softly clear your throat, grabbing Yoongi's attention as you show it to him.
You see Yoongi's shoulders rise, his eyes frantically scanning the flyer until he sees your thumb. He motions for the paper, angling it away from you once it's in his hands, making sure the town name can't be seen.
"Ah, this," He gives you a slightly uneasy smile, "It's an annual flower parade they do in the town over to celebrate the beginning of summer. It says it's supposed to happen next weekend." 
You keep your expression schooled, tucking away that new piece of information into the back of your mind. 
"That sounds like fun! Do you think we could go?" You ask, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. "I would love to see it." 
You're beginning to border on frantic for a change of scenery, for something that isn't just the four walls of this house. The garden does help and you have been allowed on a few walks around the neighbourhood, but it isn't enough. You will go stir crazy at some point or another if they keep you cooped up here forever. 
"What flower parade?" Taehyung walks over to Yoongi, peering down at the flyer. You cheer inwardly as Taehyung's smile broadens to a grin, a pleading expression taking over his face as he says, "Hyung, that looks like so much fun. We should all go watch it!" 
You know that Taehyung has a penchant for flowers, that he loves them almost as much as Seokjin does. After all, there's a reason you always received them along with your letters. 
"I don't know," Yoongi chews on his bottom lip, eyeing the flyer nervously. 
"Hyung," Taehyung whines, "pleaseeee. You know I love stuff like this." 
"Why don't we discuss it over dinner?" You propose, knowing you need to calm Yoongi's worried thoughts before he settles on a firm no.
"We'll only do it if everyone wants to go. I would love to experience it with you guys though–" You muster up a soft smile, your heart squeezing painfully at the truth as you say, "I've always wanted to do something like that with my soulmate. It seems really romantic." 
Yoongi's gaze is unreadable as he stares down at the flyer. You're almost holding your breath by the time his shoulders finally sag, his voice defeated as he murmurs, "Sure, if that's something you want, we'll discuss it later." 
You giggle behind your hand as Taehyung tackles Yoongi into a hug, your heart racing in your chest. As long as you play your cards right, you might finally get that taste of freedom you've been wanting for so long. Luckily for you, after almost eight months trapped together with your soulmates, you know just what buttons to push to sway the boys to your will. 
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It only takes some begging and a little sweet talk to win the rest of the boys over. Their unease and suspicion quickly melt away as you murmur sweetly about how romantic you find the event – and that while you are nervous about the crowds (a lie), you wouldn't mind it as long as they stick close to you. Taehyung and Seokjin's enthusiasm for it works in your favor too, as Seokjin's bubbling excitement over finally getting to experience the flower parade erases the last of Yoongi's anxieties. 
The week leading up to the parade passes syrupy slow, the days dragging on as if they're mocking you. You're a bundle of nerves by the time you're driving into the city, squirming in your seat as you get closer and closer to your goal. If everything goes well during the parade, you'll be one step closer to earning their full trust – to them letting you go. 
The blindfold around your head comes off the moment the car passes by the town sign, the boys still taking whatever precautions they can to limit your knowledge about where you are. You already know, of course, but you have no intention of letting that slip. It's better if they think that you don't.
"Here we are, darling," Namjoon offers you his hand as he opens the door for you. His grip is iron-tight as you intertwine your fingers, clearly on edge as you step out to join the rest of the group. 
There's an air of tension wrapped around them all as they flock around you, one that doesn't dissipate even when they flank you at all sides as you walk further into town. Jimin has claimed the other side of your body, wrapping one of his arms snuggly around your waist, anchoring you to him. Nervous. 
Hoseok and Jungkook keep throwing glances over their shoulders as they walk in front of you, making sure you're still there whenever you go quiet for more than a few seconds. You can practically feel Taehyung and Seokjin breathing down your neck, their steps matching yours perfectly as they hold up the back. Yoongi keeps drifting back and forth like he can't quite decide where he should be to best ensure your safety. 
It should be suffocating but their behavior is simply pushed to the back of your mind, unimportant, when you finally lay eyes on actual people, strangers, crossing the street in front of you. A lump forms in the back of your throat as you watch a group of friends spill out of a nearby shop, their laughter echoing in your ears long after they've passed you by. 
The town is loud and bustling, music seeping out from every building you pass by. They've embraced the parade to the fullest, decorating the pathways with beautiful florals hanging from every lamp post and flower archways adorning some of the more expensive shops. It's like you've stepped into an explosion of colour as you reach the main street, no stone left undecorated and flowers clinging to every possible surface. The people milling about are just as colourful, the majority of them wearing bright, fun clothing, their faces painted with different patterns and artistic renditions of florals. You've heard talk of this parade before but you had no idea it was this big of a deal, that the townspeople take such pride in the event. 
"I think there's an available spot over there!" Jungkook points to somewhere in the middle of the street, leading the group over to the area he saw. It's just big enough for all of you to squeeze into, leaving you almost first in line on the sidewalk to watch the parade.
You've barely planted your feet on the ground when you hear a couple occupy the spot behind you, the rest of the sidewalk filling up quickly as the start of the event draws near. 
You look around, taking in the sights around you, your senses a little overwhelmed with the colours and noise after so many months of nothing but your soulmates for company. Your heart is picking up speed, matching the sound of distant drums as your gaze glides from couple to couple, their bright expressions and relaxed postures nothing like the love you know. 
The couples across the street hold their lover's hand gently, arms resting loosely around their shoulders to provide a safe bubble against the crowds around them. They lean into each other's bodies for comfort, to bear the ache of standing on their feet for a long time. 
Your lovers hold your hand with bruising grips, arms wound around your body like snakes, constricting you tighter and tighter with every breath. There's no comfort in their embrace, not when they cling to you with desperation – like they'd bury themselves under your skin if they only could.
You swallow thickly, your palm going clammy in Namjoon's tight hold.  
"You okay, darling?" Namjoon asks, leaning down to make sure you hear him over the crowd. 
"I'm fine," You lie, offering him a faint smile, "It's just a lot of people." 
"Let me know the moment it becomes too much and we'll leave," Namjoon presses a kiss to your forehead, giving you a worried look. He doesn't turn away until you reassure him that you're okay, your mouth dry with the untruths that keep spilling from it. 
You can feel the sun beating down your neck, pearls of sweat forming along your back, sending shivers down your spine as they race down it. Seokjin, now in front of you, is taking pictures, capturing every little detail of the flower arrangements and different colourful species that have been grouped together along the street. The shutter of his camera sounds like bullets firing through the air, quickening your pulse with every snap. 
"There it is!" Taehyung grins, pointing down the street. 
Your vision feels like it's swimming as you turn your head to look, the drums so loud they force your heart to skip to the beat, sending it into a frenzy. You stare in a daze as people dance and cheer as they walk past you, flower petals raining down as they throw handfuls out of the baskets they're carrying. A float pauses in front of you, the florals an organized mess of every colour you can imagine. There's a particular arrangement you can't look away from, one that fills your stomach with dread.
It's them.
The tower in the middle of the float is made up of red, pink, purple, blue, green, yellow, and orange flowers, the same kaleidoscope of colors that have been haunting you for the past years. 
It's like a punch to the gut, reality suddenly snapping back into place. The cheers around you turn muffled, your mind reeling with the possibilities you've been suppressing for so long. 
Your mind flashes back to the police station you saw as you drove into town.
This city must be far enough away from your old one that Jimin won't have any connections here. The chances are slim that there are any officers here that are enamored with him, that worship him, like they do where he currently works. They might have heard of him and how he saved Jungkook, but you doubt they would dismiss your case just based on his reputation. Jimin might have already been talking to the officers in your new town, just in case you try something stupid, so this – this might be your only chance at getting real help. 
Heejun and Jaemin will for sure corroborate your story, and if the officers are quick, they should be able to secure the needed evidence. You know exactly where your old letters and gifts are stored in the attic. Hell, some of them are even displayed around the house. It shouldn't be difficult to find something incriminating. 
But–
Your gaze sweeps to the side, lingering on the boys. Jungkook's precious bunny smile is on display as he watches the dancers move around the street, a hint of awe in his eyes. Taehyung is practically hanging off Seokjin's back, pointing to everything he wants Seokjin to capture with his camera. The boys look mesmerized by the parade, their earlier tension eased by the excitement in the air. 
Your soul feels split in half, torn between what you want and what you should do. You don't want to leave them, despite everything they've put you through. They are your soulmates and over the past months, you've grown to really, really like them. The thought of leaving them hurts you, makes your heart ache something fierce, but you also know that you can never have a proper life if you stay. You are terribly worried about what might happen to them – the bond – if you go away, but you're also limiting the possibilities of ever finding a cure for their sickness if you don't. Maybe there's someone out there who can help you and them if you only look. 
Jimin's arm has fallen away from your waist during the parade, his hands around his mouth as he cheers for the performers.
You slowly ease your hand out of Namjoon's grip, hoping your smile isn't as shaky as it feels as you quickly explain, "I just need to tie my shoe."
Your knees nearly buckle as Namjoon gives you a once over, terrified that he might somehow catch you out. But Namjoon simply just smiles, showing off his dimples as he nods and turns back to watch the parade. 
You take a step back, crouching down to tie your slightly loose shoelace. Flower petals keep flitting around you, carried by the wind as they swoop and dance across the ground. You secure your shoe with a tight knot, the tips of your fingers so cold you can barely feel them from the anxiety crashing around inside your body.
You slowly stand back up, taking another small step back. 
None of the boys reach out for you, recapture you, their attention caught by the spectacle in front of them. Your group has been moved around by the crowd enough that another step has you standing behind all of them, watching with labored breath as you wait for their realization that you're not anchored to any of them. 
It doesn't come.
The chaos of the parade provides you with the cover you need to inch back, the loud drums and petals covering the ground muffling your footsteps. Your eyes flicker wildly between the seven of them, trying to figure out if any of them have noticed you beginning to slip away, but all you see is the boys laughing and smiling, their focus somewhere else. 
The couple that was standing behind you is now in front of you, their bodies forming a small wall, a shield, against your soulmates. The crowd behind you easily part as you advance backward, eager for a chance to get a closer look at the parade. Your body feels like a live wire, dread and adrenaline pumping through your veins at a rate that leaves you dizzy. 
Your heart is a jumbled mess of stay, go, stay, go – but your mind knows what it needs to do.
You take a mental picture of the sight in front of you, saving the image of the boys looking happy and beautiful, surrounded by warm sunlight and fluttering petals. 
For later. As a reminder that things could be good. 
It's only once you've reached the back of the street, the distance between you and them so wide that you can barely see Namjoon's head as he slowly turns to where you once stood, waving hands partially obscuring his face as his expression twists into despair, that you let crowd swallow you whole and run. 
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a/n: thank you all so much for following along with this story for over three years!! what was supposed to be a short 20k fic suddenly turned into one that was 120k haha, but i've had so much fun working on LS and reading all of your theories have been amazing! 💖 thank you to everyone who voted in the original poll, this story is a collab between you and me :')
i know that the ending will leave some of you with a lot of questions and i can answer the most important one right away: No, I don't have any current plans for a sequel. I have told the story I wanted to tell and I'm happy with where it ended :) However, I might be open to doing some commissions down the line of "missing" scenes from the story if that's something you guys want!
it would mean the absolute world to me if you'd leave me a comment/reblog and let me know what you think of the final chapter! 💖 and if you'd feel so inclined, i do have a kofi if you'd like to support me with a coffee!
thank you all so much again!! i do have a few exciting fics coming up so i do hope you stick around for those!
lots of love, maggy.
1K notes · View notes
ma1dita · 9 months ago
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play pretend
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a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
words: 5.1k (holy shit)
summary: (established relationship…at the end of it lol) suggestive in nature but sfw , underage drinking what do you expect from a dionysus!kid, mentions of vomit The one where Mr. D catches you two in the act, but you and him aren't exactly together yet. Everyone knows you two are together except the both of you, apparently. It’s hard to not run away from something good. (luke castellan x dionysus!reader)
a/n: happy first i love you to you and luke! yall are together now! crazy! thanks for being patient during my lil vacay :)) its been a little over a month since i started the trouble!verse!! ilysm
(posted 2/23 betad by my one and only @mrsaluado )
There’s something you’ve always loved about mornings.
Waking up with the first rays of light peeking through your window, the sun’s arms stretched around your sleepy frame pressing warm, featherlike kisses across the expanse of your back.
It almost feels real. 
Apollo must be feeling generous today, the heat of a warm breath brushing against your neck, and your alarm sounding an awful lot like soft snores. You ought to get up and close the blinds; it’s too damn bright. But your weighted blanket feels immensely heavier this morning as it envelopes your senses—smelling of citrus, musk, and a tangible dream of last night that seems to have stayed in bed with you. As soon as you try to untangle your legs from below the covers, warmth presses you deeper into the mattress with a…familiar sigh.
Your eyes pop open.
Quick and calculated, your eyes survey the surroundings of your room—the mop of licorice tresses nestled against the crook of your neck, both of your clothes scattered on the floor, as well as the alarm clock and a few other things knocked off your nightstand from Luke’s enthusiasm. The quiet of the morning is quickly disrupted when you hear two pairs of little hands pounding on your door, and for a moment you wonder if this is one of those hyper-realistic dreams that you don’t want to wake up from.
“Sissy! You missed breakfast,” Pollux bellows as Castor continues to slap his palms on the wood like a bongo drum.
The sheets start rustling as you squirm out of Luke’s grasp, bumping against the muscular ridges of his torso which brings him back to consciousness.
“Be out in a minute!” you slur against his shoulder, and he opens his eyes blearily at the sight of you sprawled over him to try to reach the alarm clock on the ground. As his eyes focus he can’t help but admire the planes of your body, soft and pretty in the morning light like a painting come to life. Waking up in one’s company has never felt more right, even with the usual chatter of campers wafting through the open window. Here in the swaddle of pink and purple sheets, you two are something singular—not camp counselors with jobs to do, not demigods wanting to achieve glory, just your Angelface and his Trouble. 
It’s intimate, even if it doesn’t have a label, him and you.
His large hand catches you at the plush of your tummy when you almost topple off the bed.
“Shit. Shit! They’re not kidding—Luke, it’s 9:30!”
You fling yourself upwards and off of him, clambering to find clothes from your dresser and tossing him his from the day prior. His belt buckle almost hits him in the eye and he groans, flinching as it smacks him in the cheek.
“Gods, woman. You think camp will crumble because you slept in for once?” 
The glare you throw in his direction is his answer, so Luke slowly tugs his pants on–though he quickly gets distracted by a half-dressed vision of you rummaging around your room.
“Castellan.”
He grins like a little kid in a candy store, and to that, you throw his shoe at him. 
Idiot. 
Too bad you’re in deep shit for sleeping in.
“SISSY!!!” 
“IN A FUCKING MINUTE, THING ONE AND TWO!” 
Screaming at the closed door as you throw some shorts on, you spin around and bump into Luke who’s already got his hands around your waist as his nose nudges the space between your jaw and your neck.
“You were supposed to leave before daybreak,” you sigh, a smile creeping onto your lips, “if you did as you were told, I wouldn’t have slept in.” Fake annoyance leaks through your voice though he knows it not to be true, he wouldn’t be able to latch onto you like this if you were. His nose continues to graze up towards your ear as he presses a kiss behind it—like how you both deal with your feelings and the truth nowadays, a hidden secret kept for both of your eyes only.
“Dunno Trouble…I can get used to waking up next to you,” he mumbles. You can feel the imprint of his smile searing into your skin.
Is this what going into cardiac arrest feels like? Genuine question.
You’ve both been sneaking around for the past few weeks, but neither of you has made anything official. They say it’s easier to fall for a friend rather than a stranger—to know someone so intimately (and now in more ways than one) should make falling the easy part. 
But that’s kind of the problem. 
Luke is your best friend—both knowing how the other feels from a single glance, so pray tell to all the gods on Olympus, why has this boy not asked you out yet? Whether this is all for fun or anything resembling a four-letter word that makes your brain go fuzzy, you think you’d rather swim in the Styx instead of putting yourself at a disadvantage. Love is scary, even if it’s Luke. 
Especially since it’s Luke.
His words make you stop in your tracks and you can hear your heart pounding in your ears, so you’re not dead… But the noise turns out to be one of the twins banging on the door again, and now you look like an asshole for taking too long to respond. Luke’s awkwardly looking at you now, tongue in cheek.
“Last warning,” one of your brothers teasingly croons, before the other continues, “Dad’s almost at the door! Your boyfriend’s gotta go or he’s dead…”
Your eyes widen in fear and Luke loosens his grip on your waist, unsure if you look like you’ve seen a ghost at the thought of him being called your boyfriend or the very real possibility of getting caught by your dad.
What a way to go, you two.
“Get out. You gotta go now, out the window!” 
You start pushing him towards the windowpane, your palms pressing against his marked-up and very bare back. 
Holy shit, he still doesn’t have a shirt and he looks like he got mauled by a hellhound. 
You can practically see the grapevines start to flourish outside your window. 
He’s too close for comfort, way too damn close, you think, but can’t reason if you mean Luke or your dad.
“Seriously?” 
He straddles the open window, and Luke doesn’t know what to feel about you pushing him away—it’s a feeling that’s foreign to him since he’s always by your side. 
“Sorry. I’ll make it up to you later angelface,” you mumble, pulling him in for a mind-numbing kiss that almost makes him slip off the rain gutter, and by the time you’ve already closed the window he realizes he’s shirtless in broad daylight, feet hopping off the siding of the cabin.
This couldn’t get any worse (oh but it does in a second), and you’re definitely the asshole this time around.
Your dad barges into your room by the time you throw a shirt on.
“Kid, what the hell? You sick?” 
Mr. D furrows his brows at the sight of you, face flushed as you simper up a lie about your head hurting. It’s weak for an excuse and even if you usually don’t have a tell—he’s the master of this game, so he pretends to not notice you chuck a shirt out the window when you open it to make it less stuffy. 
He raises an eyebrow in disapproval when you both notice your shirt is too big on you.
Oh, he’s onto you, applying heat like a brand to make his only daughter squirm; Mr. D peeks out the window to see a certain Luke Castellan stomping across the path wearing your cropped camp tee—and concludes that if there’s anyone in hot water right now, Luke must be drowning in it.
Acting natural is a bit harder for you today, and it feels like a cruel and unusual punishment worth the deepest pit of the Underworld as you scribble words onto a page that won’t even be comprehensible once you read them after this meeting is over. You’ve been catching up on work all day (also known as the impossible task of avoiding Luke) to show your dad you haven’t been slacking off. But a late start meant you fumbled through your day and it was obvious to everyone that you were off your game. Archery ran into javelin throwing, capture the flag teams weren’t ready and had to be made on the spot, there were no new shipments delivered to the camp store, and the infirmary ran out of ambrosia— which were all things that you were expected to coordinate.
Gods, you’re getting too old for this shit.
And if you, the head counselor everyone depends on, is off her game, well—everyone’s on edge. The Stolls even dared to ask you if the world was ending today and you were less than impressed.
Being in love sure feels like it is.
The only thing left to get through is this counselor’s meeting before the party tonight at Fireworks Beach, and you’ll damn yourself to Tartarus if you can’t even get that right. You’re a Dionysus kid, so partying is in your blood. Party planning is your favorite hobby, and to be real, you deserve a drink after today.
Speaking of your father, he’s jabbering on about something you find yourself not particularly interested in, but well…someone’s gotta listen. Charles is dozing off at the table, and Lee jabs him in the side. You see Silena braiding Clarisse’s hair out of the corner of your periphery. And of course, out of all of them, there’s Luke who’s been trying to steal your attention for the past 30 minutes. Black ink smears across the page as you find yourself having every thought that ends supplemented with the memory of how Luke looked at you as he climbed out of your window this morning.
Could he actually want more? 
The all-star camper, Luke Castellan— camp’s best soldier who’s envied by many and admired by all…wants to wake up next to you. You, the camp director’s daughter who keeps everyone in line and is seen more as authority instead of a person with feelings. You’re not always feared, but in a camp for demigod kids who’d rather hone their powers instead of lose special privileges for skipping class, you’re not exactly their favorite either. Once, someone said they’d rather face Mr. D instead of you.
“That doesn’t make sense, we’re supposed to send in the next progress report to Olympus before the last day of the month. That’s Wednesday, D. So it should be by the Sunday before,” you butt in after a statement your dad makes about scheduling. 
All eyes are on you now— it’s the first time you’ve spoken up during tonight’s meeting which was out of character in itself, but your father catches you off guard when the sound of his booming laughter spreads across the room like dynamite tearing through a battlefield.
“Says who? We’ve got enough time,” The god remarks, a strange sheen in his eyes that reflects into yours. He’s on your ass a bit more today, pointing out your flaws from the day and making it his mission to get on your nerves. Few mortals would undermine a god, and though you do it daily to spite him for your existence, your confidence is lower today than it usually is—the reason being a boy with amber eyes boring into your soul from across the table. Everything else pales in comparison now, almost fading into the background, and even here in the hot seat you can’t help but think about if Luke could ever fall for someone like you.
You’re venturing into dangerous territory, you tell yourself, you’ve been hurt before.
It hurts less somehow when you’re cautious. To prepare oneself to be hurt is a defense mechanism ingrained in you—your mom raised you to always be ready for anything. Your self-identity has always been skewed by others’ perceptions. Mirroring the memory of your late mother’s ideals, exemplifying your actions through your immortal father’s personality, you find that fighting your bloodline is one of the most difficult things to come to terms with. A thought passes in your brain that you’ve taken after the worst of them—your mother’s ambition and your father’s unpredictability. 
And who would want to love someone so difficult? 
Tough love is the only way you know how to love. Perhaps someone as good as Luke deserves better than this.
“It’ll be less to worry about that way,” you swallow, and the other counselors sit back in their seats as tension fills the air, signaling another disagreement about to start between your father and you.
“Good thing you don’t have to worry about it since it’s my job, right, kid? Just because you woke up on the wrong side of the bed today doesn’t mean you can change things to better fit your schedule instead of the rest of ours.”
Mr. D scowls, and then again maybe you’re too much like your father—too brash, too mouthy, and self-serving, and your eyes meet Luke’s again as your mouth pulls into a bitter smile.
“It’s the first and last time it’ll ever happen. Gods know I don’t get sick days around here picking up after you,” you spit out harshly, words coming out like acid.
“Just saying kid. Haven’t seen you this careless in years— Maybe check yourself before telling us what to do, yeah?”
Your father’s words have a double meaning as he stares into your soul, glancing between you and Luke, who is none the wiser, still focused on you. Annabeth is holding his hand under the table as you watch his jaw flex. He can see right through the shoddy performance you put on of having it all together.
Does everyone know? 
Your lips pucker as you roll your neck from locking, and a humorless laugh slips from you. Everyone else’s eyes are on Luke, who looks like he’s about to jump across the table and wring a god’s neck. 
Fuck. 
“Whatever. I’m not doing this today,” you grumble, feeling overwhelmed. The chair screeches against the wood of the floor as you push yourself up, fists stained with ink and clenched in teenage angst as you walk to the door to make a quick escape. 
Your father crosses his arms smugly at the success of getting under your skin, and the last words you hear as you leave are, “You never want to hear the truth, kid. Must you always be so…. you?”
Your steps falter for a moment, feeling heavier knowing he’s right so you let go of the door to let it slam it behind you. There’s a commotion inside after you leave but you couldn’t be bothered to give a damn.
It’s time to party and you’re sure as hell getting drunk, high, or both tonight.
It takes about two cups of wine for the inebriation to start kicking into Luke’s system. He’d never been much of a drinker, but with the way you’re throwing your head back at Lee’s jokes as he plays the guitar, he thinks he should drink a bit more to forget the fear in your eyes this morning and how Lee keeps touching your waist.
He’s been suspended from counselor duties for the rest of the month for mouthing off at Mr. D in your defense, and even if Annabeth tells him he’s lucky to have not met a worse fate, the way things played out today makes him feel like the most unlucky guy at camp. Fuck the gods, or at least…fuck your dads (that doesn’t sound right, but he’s too busy watching the moonlight glint against your skin that whatever his ex is whispering next to him goes in one ear and out the other). 
“Lukey?” Skye mumbles against his neck, “I miss you…you’re always busy doing who knows what!”
Well… you have a name, Luke thinks, taking a big gulp of whatever’s left in his cup as his eyes follow you across the beach. You’re dancing around the bonfire spinning a tipsy Clarisse who laughs without a care in the world. He thinks you’re the best of your parents—determined to achieve your goals, selfless when it comes to others’ needs, and passionate about what you want. Mr. D will never get to see this side of you—the one you show your friends and this place you all call home. He’ll never be deserving of the work you put into Camp Half-Blood (and to some extent, Luke knows he doesn’t deserve you either).
A dejected sigh brushes warm air against his shoulder.
“You know, Castellan. I wish I met you first,” the blond daughter of Athena slurs with tears forming in her eyes.
“What are you talking about?”
“The two of you have always… it’s always been you and her. Even if you both don’t want to admit it. It’s not fair,” she hiccups. Luke pulls the cup out of his ex-lover’s hand and she shakes her head.
“Skye, you’re drunk. I’ll take you back to 6.”
“You really don’t see it do you?” Her hands grapple onto Luke’s shirt like she’s pulling him down and pleading for him to understand.
“That girl is in love with you. The both of you are meant for each other—and you’re both spending too much time trying to fight fate. The rest of us aren’t as lucky, but we sure as hell aren’t stupid.”
There’s a moment of clarity that hits as he looks into Skye’s eyes, and he scratches the back of his neck.
“You don’t mean that.”
“I meant what I said when we broke up a few years ago. You’re both always looking for each other, even if you don’t know it. Just meet in the middle already, for gods’ sake…I’ll be okay,” she sighs, sitting up on the log they were resting on. 
“Your girlfriend is sure as hell to give me a hangover worth her title of being Dionysus’ kid in the morning anyways,” she mutters, kissing Luke on his cheek as a farewell. But out of all of the things to catch your attention that night, Luke’s blush glows in the light of the fire, and he watches you frown and stomp off toward the forest.
For being the son of the god of luck, his dad really won’t give him a break.
It didn’t help that Skye suddenly started projectile vomiting seconds after you left (off of her only cup of wine; wonder how that happened).
Luke fights through his growing intoxication on the walk back towards the cabins, but boy are you difficult when you’re angry—you’ve always had a profound effect on his being, even more so with your powers. He makes a wrong turn somewhere through the woods, completely missing the cabins, which he doesn’t realize until he stumbles across the path leading to the Big House. When his eyes focus, he spots Mr. D sipping on a glass as he leans on the railing of the front porch. Be calm and don’t act drunk, Luke tells himself, but all of his concentration goes into not swaying in front of the god of wine that he can’t stop the words from coming out of his mouth.
“Good evening, um…sir.”
“Kid, it’s 3 in the morning. What the hell are you doing here? Gods know it’s not my window you’re trying to climb up. You’re a bit of a ways off.”
Now what the fuck was he supposed to say to that?
Luke freezes in his spot (in reality he bumps into the first wooden step and sticks a hand out to steady himself against the railing).
“Are you drunk?”
Mr. D looks at him knowingly like it’s almost funny to him, eyebrows furrowed and head quirked like he can sniff it off of him. He probably can, now that Luke thinks really hard about it.
“I’m not gonna answer that because I think you know the answer already,” the son of Hermes words carefully, but nothing smart can come of this. It’s like playing chess with checkers, and Dionysus of all gods would know—no breathalyzer needed.
There’s a beat of silence, before Mr. D says, “I’m gonna give you another chance to–”
“Yes, I’m drunk, but it’s not Trouble’s fault—it’s mine!” he blabbers, walking closer to your father. 
“She’s mad at me for defending her from you earlier besides the fact I act stupid around her and I only had a few cups, I swear, but she’s…your daughter is…extraordinary.”
“What?”
“Your daughter makes me feel drunk, sir. Even without the wine. I don’t know what to do with myself, just please don’t get mad at her. She has a lot more to lose…” He feels pathetic in all sense of the word, rubbing at his eyes until Mr. D snaps his fingers and the alcohol blanket lifts from his senses. Like a bucket of cold water splashed onto his spine, Luke is suddenly very awake, and all too embarrassed for the waterfall of words he’s told your father.
“Oh.”
“I didn’t know she knew how to do that yet. She’s learning quickly.” Mr. D looks out into the distance, the dim light of the cabins acting like a beacon of light in the middle of the campgrounds.
Luke wrings his hands, picking at his thumbs and he’s sure he’s about to get kicked out of camp for his behavior, much less the fact that he’s been fraternizing with the director’s daughter.
“Sometimes I think she knows too much.” He licks his lips, awkwardly standing next to the god and wondering if the dark liquid in his cup is wine.
“Do you think I don’t know that, Luke? Do you really think I don’t know about the parties? I let her have her fun too you know— I'm the one that keeps Chiron asleep. She doesn’t ask for much. I know I give her a hard time. I’m just….” 
There are a few things about Mr. D’s statement that surprise Luke: the fact that he actually knows his name, how he safeguards his daughter’s interests, and the possibility of a god actually knowing how to be a good parent. 
It still doesn’t take away from the countless times he’s seen you put yourself down because of your father, the inadequacy you feel from the responsibilities you take on, and how you’d do anything for simple applause. Tough love is still love with a heavy hand. And it leaves bruises, whether he meant it or not.
“Is that why you’ve never sent her on an actual quest? We all know picking up the twins doesn’t count in the grand scheme of things.”
“For what? To achieve glory? Recognition? I never understood why we Olympians do that. Send children off to their deaths to deserve a moment of their godrent’s time, or a gift to shut them up. I don’t need her to be a hero, she doesn’t have anything she needs to prove to me. I need her to be my daughter, and preferably alive. That’s enough for me.”
Luke takes a step back in disbelief. There’s something in his being that yearns to be loved like that, without having to prove it or needing to deserve it. It hurts almost, the way he wants to be loved like your family loves you. Your father, an Olympian, standing in front of him telling him that your existence is enough to be worthy of his presence. In the silence that follows, Luke wonders if he’ll ever have that.
“You should tell her that more often, sir.”
“Listen. She’s a good kid, I just give her a hard time because it’s hard to get attached to you mortals. Your lives are so short compared to the infinite timeline I live. I can do everything in my power to try to keep her safe, but I can’t stop her from leaving. So don’t blame me if I act needy if it’ll keep her here for a bit longer. I’ll take all the time I can get.”
“Then how do I tell her I love her with without either of us running away?”
Mr. D laughs loudly now, his wrinkles crinkling as liquid sloshes out of his cup. It turns out to be grape juice you left out for him before the party.
“Mortals always busy themselves with trivial things, like pride and sorrow. Pandora’s box left you humans with nothing but hope. I say you swallow the negative and just say it how it is. You’ll have a lot more time being happier together that way. I already lost my bet against some of the counselors anyway.”
“What bet?”
Your dad swats at Luke like he’s a dog to kick, and tosses his glass over his shoulder where it disappears in the night air.
“Get off my porch Castellan, and just know if you hurt her…” 
“I’d die before that happens, sir.”
“That would hurt her most of all. Think about what that means. For gods’ sake she’s left her light on for you, so go on before I set the harpies on you. And don’t call me sir, it freaks me out. You’re still not special to me.” Mr. D stalks back inside the Big House, and Luke takes that as his cue to leave. The cold night air pushes him back towards the cabins, the light in your window luring him in like a ship lost at sea.
“I know you’re still awake, Trouble.”
You hear him move closer to the bed as you keep your eyes shut, evening out your breaths, but you’re never able to hide anything from Luke anymore.
“I thought I closed that window,” you mumble, turning your face more towards your pillow.
“You didn’t.”
Of course, you didn’t. You were hoping he’d chase after you this time around, even if you made him drunk in more ways than one.
“Skye keep you busy?” you say nonchalantly, and you hear Luke laugh as he tugs your duvet off of you.
“Your dad did, actually,” he says grinning, watching your eyes pop open in confusion as you turn and face him, propping yourself up on your knees.
“What the fuck?”
“You could’ve gotten me kicked out y’know? Stumbled onto his porch telling him about how drunk you make me feel even without a drop of alcohol and how I don’t know what the fuck to do with myself when I’m around you.”
“You shouldn’t be so brave to fight gods like that for me. Even if it’s my dad, Castellan,” you whisper, and he kneels next to your bed so he can look at you in the eyes from an equal standpoint. Because that’s what the two of you are— equal, singular, one and the same. And he’s never made you feel less than, even if your brain tries to convince you of it.
“Stop that,” he scoffs, shaking his head as he grabs your hands, “stop calling me my last name like it detaches you from how you feel about me. I want you to stop pretending when it's just you and me,” he pleads, whispering your name so softly that the sound of it brushes against your lips.
There’s something more intimate in the way he looks at you now compared to when you were naked and nestled against him this past morning. The act of knowing that it’s you and him, no matter how hard you try to fight it.
His knuckle brushes against your jaw, pushing your eyes to look back into his, and you can’t deny him any longer.
“Hey. I love you, and I know you feel the same; I'm tired of you acting like you're not and I’m going crazy he—”
His words are halted by your lips surging forward to meet him in the middle. The culmination of years of friendship has brought you to this special moment frozen in time, and sure, demigods die young but this must be what he’ll see in Elysium. If there’s a single memory he can bring with him to his next life, he hopes it’s this one—the taste of you and how it feels to be loved like this, without question or reason. You pull away with a sweet smile and he feels drunk again.
“You’re my best friend, Angelface,” you mumble.
Okay, now that sobered him up faster than it should have.
Luke stiffens, his hands falling to your thighs as he starts to ramble, “If you’re actually friendzoning me right now I might just roll out of your window and feed myself to a harpy.”
The laugh that comes out of you booms across the room as you wrap your arms around him with a radiant smile. You always have so much to say, but right now only three words come to mind. Five vowels, three consonants, and the gravity of it pushes out of your mouth like there’s no better truth to tell.
“I love you. I think I’ve been in love with you even before I liked you and I’m sorry I’ve been too scared to say it. I’m not used to…”
Luke sighs in relief, as he presses his scarred cheek against your shoulder. 
“You think I’m not scared of us either, Trouble? I worship the ground you walk on, and everyone can see that.”
“Well I’m not a god, Luke,” you say tugging him up by his mop of curls as your legs wrap around him.
“Sometimes when I’m with you, I think you’re the closest thing to it,” he whispers, pulling your chin down for another kiss until you both get your fill. He thinks he can kiss you forever until the end of your short lives, until it’s senseless and maddening, like falling into a drunken stupor. Loving you is an experience he’ll never be able to rid himself of, heart stained with the best of you until both your fingertips are red and raw with the feeling.
You pull him back into your bed as your giggles fill the early morning air. He’s quickly becoming what you love most about waking up in the morning.
Chris Rodriguez wakes up to the sound of the morning birds and chattering children in the busy cabin 11. As he rubs at his eyes, ready to take on the day as an interim cabin counselor for the rest of the month because of Luke’s suspension, sunlight falls onto the one empty bunk in the corner of the room (Fact: There is never an empty bed in the Hermes cabin. Also a fact: he and Chiron will be able to cash in against the other counselors as fast as his feet can take him to the Big House).
“To love someone is firstly to confess; I’m prepared to be devastated by you.” Billy Ray Belcourt
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forcemeanakin · 1 year ago
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Make you feel better.
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•WARNINGS: SMUT.  Vaginal sex (female top), unprotected sex, blowjob, handjob, degradation kink, spanking, dirty talk. Explicit mentions of injuries.
Pairing: TCW!Anakin Skywalker x female reader.
Summary: You are a nurse in the 501st squad and General Skywalker needs some assistance. Only you could help him feel better.
Word count: 4.8K. This started as a blurb, but I’m incapable of shutting up. I haven’t stood up from my chair since 10am, so enjoy.
A/N: I’m so so so so in love with this man, it’s sickening. Scenario inspired by Ahsoka ep.5!. NOT PROOFREAD!!, english is my second language, so please be gentle. If there are any mistakes, pls let me know in private so I can correct them, thanks :) Also I have a serious issue between differentiating “in” and “on” situations, so bare with me lmao
Also first one shot since like forever????
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As a war nurse, you are used to treating the nastiest of wounds, the bloodiest of cuts, the vilest of injuries. 
You have chosen your profession out of love and vocation. As cliche as it might be, the true desire of your heart was to help people feel better: The plan was to specialize as a pediatric nurse, even becoming a doctor one day. Working at a hospital, maybe have a private practice with that medic husband of yours you often dreamed about. 
All of that was erased the moment war erupted. 
Fresh out of nursing school, every single one of your classmates, including yourself, were drafted to report to duty as nurses on the frontlines. The assignment of troops was random, but as if fate had decided, you were put at the service of the 501st. Little did you know, the job was harder than you had ever imagined it would be; and the constant bombing and deceased people you had to observe had nothing to do with it.
It was the general of the squad that made your job more complicated than it had to be.
General Skywalker. 
Well, it wasn’t exactly him, but the persistent crush you had on him. 
Needless to say, it was extremely unprofessional to be daydreaming of the person who was technically your boss. Even more unethical to be full-on fantasizing about his dick size when you were supposed to be suturing injured clones. But dammit, was it hard. So hard to be so close to his pulling presence and yet so far from achieving anything real with the man. Not that you had tried. Public rejection would be even more embarrassing than crushing on him. 
Anakin Skywalker hardly recognized your existence. Between his duty as leader on the field, his responsibilities as Jedi off-hours and the reduced sleep time he could squeeze in between battles, he didn’t have time to remember the name of one of the nurses of his legion. Especially when he never went to the tents himself; the god of a man was indestructible. 
Fuck, was he hot.
Just watching him scream: “Forward!” every day, as he ran directly to conflict with bravery was enough to have you dripping. His whole General image was your own personal definition of lust; his armor, the tone in which he would deliver orders, the frown he would wear until he had defeated each and every single one of his enemies. The smile he would flash whenever they won over a battle. Luckily, it was often.
But you had this idea that, out all of the medical staff, you were his least favorite. Maybe it had something to do with how social you were: always distracting his soldiers with jokes as you cleaned their cuts so they wouldn’t think of the sting. Or maybe it had something to do with how emotional you could get during your shifts: always fighting with your colleagues so they would treat the troopers as people, not numbers. Even if he had created a culture of trust among his peers, you weren’t sure if he appreciated that you caused so much trouble within the medical wing. 
You had endured a year of stolen glances, salivating at the sight of him from afar and lonely nights with just your hand. Cheeks would blush so fast whenever he would catch you checking him out, and maybe you were drunk on the smell of medical alcohol, but you swore that you caught him checking you out too once.
But that was long forgotten the next day, when he came back to being his same old cold persona. You forgave that aspect of him: the atrocities he had committed in the name of the Republic weighed heavy on his shoulders, slouching his proud figure whenever he had to face the reality of his situation. 
The same you had to face everyday.
“Who’s available?!” Yelling was the official way of communicating over here. You were finishing up a bandage on a trooper that had lost his left leg, meaning that you had to answer the call of duty.
The Ryloth takeover was more hectic than the squad had ever anticipated. Soldiers falling left and right, some didn’t even make it to the medical bay, just straight to the pseudo-morgue that was built to then give them a final resting place. 
“I’m almost ready to take the next one!” You screamed over the noise from the ships flying over.
“Ms. Dana.” Someone called you by your last name from outside the medical tent. “General Skywalker’s tent in 5.”
That made you drop the jar of gauze.
No one has ever been there, you thought. 
Outside of his skippy padawan and uptight master, Anakin’s tent had always been off limits to the public. His sacred place to unwind in peace. The ways he must unwind after a long day of battle…
“Ms. Dana!” That woke you up from a very explicit image of Anakin jerking off the stress away. 
“C-coming!” You choked. Grabbing your personal kit, you ran to the destination that had your clit throbbing with anticipation. 
You would see the sheets he slept on, the place where he storaged all of his robes, the shower that saw him naked every day. Jealousy of an inanimate object took over you as quickly as it left, making you feel stupid for getting angry at a room.
You almost didn’t notice that the battle was over, the only remnants of it were the people being moved in gurneys, the clouds of dust and the beaten up ships. Your outfit was probably not the best to endure the hardness of the Ryloth landscape: a tight, white buttoned up dress with a stupid little hat on top of your head. You hated the son of a bitch, it was ridiculous as fuck, but necessary for recognition among all of the personnel working in camps.
Anakin will think it’s stupid too. 
He will think you are stupid. 
The self-degradation stopped once you reached the entrance of his tent. Gulping exaggeratedly, you were unsure if to knock, announce yourself or wait until he was annoyed enough to come out and see you standing there like an idiot. 
“Come in.” It was his voice who cruelly cut the silence, growling. 
With shaking legs, the green fabric that formed his personal chamber was removed from your eyesight and you were hit by the delicious smell of him. So manly, so musty. It smelled like his cologne all over and you wished you bottle that up to spray it on your own sheets. 
It was less rewarding to see him sitting on the edge of his bed with an exasperated stare, analyzing your figure with obnoxiousness. You even cut short your eye-fucking tour of his body when you met his tired eyes.  Have you taken too long to get here?
“So they sent you.” He sighed, deviating his gaze. The evident disgust at your presence made you slouch timidly. You were a good nurse. The best one in the camp, if you dare to say. “I told Rex I’m fine. I don’t need assistance, it’s just a bruise.” His tone was harder than his words, surprisingly. 
“Well, now that I’m here, might as well take a look at that, huh?” Fighting through the devastating embarrassment, you proceeded to walk over his bed to place your kit. Biting your lip, you feared to ask the next question. “Shall we get started?”
He was one step away from rolling his eyes. “Fine. Just do it quickly.”
“Got it, sir.” Weird. There was no chilly breeze, however, Anakin had just flinched. “Care to show me where the bruise is?” 
He hesitated for a bit, closing his eyes with frustration. You were about to ask again when he exhaled with annoyance. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
“I would like to confirm that. Please, sir, the faster we do this, the faster I’m on my merry way.” You hated that he was desperate to kick you out, but apparently your compelling argument helped to accelerate the process. 
After seeing that he still felt fuzzy about checking the bruise, you decided to start somewhere else. “Let me get started with this cut over here. Looks pretty nasty.” 
You doubted if to take a seat, scared that it would be too close to him, but you needed the space to maneuver. Giving up to your internal fight, you sat down next to him and began by cleaning up the wound that escaped the fabric of his burgundy robe. 
“That’s nothing.” He mumbled under his breath, still not looking at you. 
Ignoring his attempt to diminish your work, you decided to also ignore your basic instinct to start a conversation to ease up the process. The internal alarms of survival were yelling at you not too. However, there was a moment where the alarms shut down, basically because every part of your brain shut down simultaneously and it was when you had to grip his bicep to make it stand still. Your fingers dug into the hard muscle, feeling how every little bit flexed under your fingertips, proving first-hand just how strong he was. 
“Done. Now I’m gonna clean the ones in your face.” You poured some alcohol into another cotton ball and turned to face him. 
Being face to face with Anakin Skywalker had been the most intimidating experience of your life and that hot as hell scar and mean frown didn’t make it easier. In fact, it had you clenching around nothing. You cleared your throat before slowly reaching out for his chin, pulling him to give you a better look of his dirty and exhausted aspect. 
He gasped the second the puffy ball made contact with a cut on his left cheekbone. You took that opportunity to bring him some comfort, despite your irregular breathing and overall tenseness. Rubbing your thumb along his jaw, you saw his pain decreased until the sting was gone. You moved to another cut on his forehead, repeating the process until you had treated most of them gone. When you swapped your current cotton ball with a new one so caught him looking down on your body. 
It’s this stupid uniform.
He sensed your eyes on him and quickly deviated them to focus on your irises. You gulped before continuing your beeline around his face, this time close to the scar you often fantasize about in bed.
“That one 's old. No need to worry about it.” He joked.
He joked.
Unable to form a coherent comeback, you limited yourself to give him a nasal laugh, demonstarting that you got it. 
“Thought you wouldn't be this silent. You’re more chatty with the clones.” He said, slightly tilting his head.
“I didn’t know you wanted me to talk.” You replied, this time with a little smile as a peace offering.
“What did you think I wanted?” He frowned, interrupting your cleaning.
“I thought you wanted me out as quickly as possible.” You stopped momentarily to accommodate his face once more into a position you could work with.
He let out a dry laugh. “It’s nothing personal. I just want to come back to work.” 
“You just came back from battle and want to keep working? Do you ever stop?” You joked back, feeling how the atmosphere inside the tent had changed. Feeling more comfortable, you switched your body a little, now your chests were aligned, just inches apart. 
“Hardly.” He clicked his tongue, gaze slightly dropping to give a quick sweep of your lips. 
“Well, you should rest. Relax. That’s an important part of recovery.” You advised him, finishing up the last cut. You took a cloth of your kit and used it to clean some of the dry blood and dirt off him. 
“Can’t stay still.” He shook his head.
“There are other ways to relax.” You shrugged your shoulders, taking that little pause to admire his beautiful demeanor. Those blue eyes could spell you into saying yes to basically anything. 
“Like?” He pushed, licking his lips as his intense gaze focused on making you feel smaller and smaller.
“Like…” You dirty minded bitch, think about something other than sex! 
Almost like he could hear your inner dialogue, he chuckled. 
“Like taking a walk or reading a book.” You finally came up with a pg-13 alternative to relaxing. 
“Could be.” He snickered. After his beautiful giggle dialed down, you felt the tension switching. Thicker. More intense. “More of a physical guy myself.”
Feeling the pull to his plump lips, you rushed to get out of the trouble zone. “Ready for me to see this world-famous bruise?” 
Your brain short circuited when he snapped his shoulder armor in one swift move and threw it on the floor. The next thing had you mentally panting and physically in shock: Anakin was removing his robes to expose his naked and bruised torso. The skin of his middle part would dip perfectly into breathtaking abs, not to mention the flexing of his arms became more evident to you without the stupid robe in your way. 
The reddened-purplish spot expanded all the way from the right side of his lower abdomen, all the way down the waistband of his pants. The silent gawking didn’t go unnoticed by him, a little smirk coming to greet your widened eyes. That woke you up enough to get moving.
“H-how-“ You took a moment to regain some composure. “How did this happen?”
“A droideka fell on me.” He muttered shortly, almost as if the portion of information brought shame to him.
“Alright, I’m gonna need to palpate the area to know if there’s any further damage.” You announced with more nerves than a medical professional should speak to their patients.
Because he was now standing up, sitting down didn’t give you the best height to disinfect some of the minor cuts that tainted his perfect tanned skin. 
“Sir, I’m going to need you to lay down for me, please.” Formalities came back as soon as you felt threatened by his overpowering presence again. 
“No.” He spat, furrowing his eyebrows. “I’d prefer to stand, if it’s possible. Please.”
“Sure.” After all, it was your job to make the process easier for him. On the other hand, that meant having to kneel in front of him. That caught him off guard and almost backed down when you reached out to feel the tampered skin. “Please tell me where it hurts.”
Your little fingers began to poke around the wounded area, massaging the zones where you knew a more serious injury could present itself. It didn’t go under your radar the way he would have goosebumps whenever you looked up to him or groped him more firmly. Repeating over and over: “How does it feel here?” you made your way all over the part of the bruise that was visible to the eye. 
“Good. It seems like no internal organs have been compromised.” You announced with a little smile. Now the part you dreaded -and kind of expected- was next. “Uhm, I’m going to need to check the rest of the bruise to make sure you didn’t break your hip, sir.”
“Anakin.” He spat.
“Pardon?” You blinked rapidly.
“Call me Anakin. It makes this… easier.” He cleared his throat.
“Okay, Anakin.” You nodded. How you said the next thing so calmly was still a mystery to you. “So, I know this part may be uncomfortable, but I’ll need to remove your pants out of the way. Probably your underwear as well, if I need to take a better look. Don’t worry, I’ve seen enough male anatomy for this to be routinary for me-”
In the middle of your speech, as you dropped your gaze to prepare yourself for dipping your fingers under his pants, something snapped your attention. 
The gigantic bulge right in front of your eye line.
How you had missed such a tent while you palpated his abdomen was another mystery to you. 
“Uhm- I-” You choked, unwilling to look up. “I-”
Anakin made no effort to try and hide his wood. But what was the point? It was already there. You had already noticed it. 
Mumbling, you decided to continue being professional. It was a normal response after all. “I’ll go ahead and lower your pants, sir- Anakin, sorry.” You corrected yourself, but it was too late.
You had already seen the reason why he made you call him Anakin: his dick twitched the second you said “sir”. Now that was interesting. 
Your hand pulled down the brown pants, lowering his black underwear at the same time, only revealing his right hip, leaving the bulge quietly covered. Anakin’s chest rose uncontrollably, flinching every now and then when your hand would get too close to his boner, or when your warm breath would fan his exposed hip. When you finally dared to meet his gaze, to let him know you were almost through with the exam, you were pleased with the view above you. 
Rose pink cheeks, bottom lip trapped in between his teeth, darkened gaze fixed on your cleavage. It was the equivalent of liquid courage in human form. 
“Does this hurt?” You felt up another portion, this time closer to his groin. When he murmured a weak “no”, you inched even closer. “And here?” Same response. 
When you got to a point where your pinky grazed the bulge and he gasped, you knew this was the point of no return. 
“And does this hurt?” You asked, slowly palming the thick shaft that was threatening to rupture his pants at any given second. 
Swallowing harshly, Anakin refused to speak up a word. Instead, he let you carry on with your devilious plan. 
“And this? Does it hurt, sir?” You wrapped your hand around the still clothed member, rubbing faster and harder. 
He limited himself to closing his eyes, moaning on the low as your hand gripped his swell cock with more pressure and more confidence. Your ego was so high up in the sky that you had the impulse to rub your lips against the fabric already stained with pre-cum. 
“Sir, can I finish up the exam?” Your wide doe eyes were quite the contrary of your filthy intentions. 
Once he nodded with hooded eyes, you fished his veiny cock from out of the confinements of his underwear and tugged it out for you to admire all of its glory. It sprung free, the tip pointing directly at you, like it knew. Involuntarily, your mouth opened in admiration to such a big and thick frame. Anakin’s sly smirk made another surprise appearance at your gawking.
You were acquainted with male genitalia. But not like this. Never like this. 
So huge. So intimidating. So mouth-watering. 
“It’s almost like you have never seen one. Not as huge as this one, right?” You shook your head, biting your lip as you took in the whole image. You needed a minute to wrap around the idea that he was carrying this weapon everywhere he went.
Your hands -yes, plural, because you needed both to handle such beast- pumped fast to grant him the deliberation he so desperately craved. Yanking his thick shaft in between your palms had you pooling all over your white panties, like a goddamn slut. His hips were thrusting at the rhythm you had set, fucking your fist like he pleased. Feeling how he tensed his abdomen, the climax was closed.
Taking a last leap of fate, you stopped the jerking off momentarily and clutched the fabric of his pants down with both hands, revealing his whole lower part to your delight. His thighs, oh, his muscular thighs always did unholy things to you and to have them right there for you to grip was making you rub your own thighs together. Foreseeing what was to come, you let your hair down, losing the stupid hat.  
Digging your nails on the hardness of his leg, you licked the tip of his shaft, testing the water. The little drop of pre-cum you managed to catch was salty and warm, so deliciously milky. Moaning, you opened your mouth to lazily envelop his tip, rubbing it without interest, just softly teasing him.
“Look at you. Who would say that you would be so unprofessional, sucking your commanding general’s cock? Huh?” Anakin mocked you from his proud stand. “Miss little giggling nurse turned out to be a filthy cockslut. Salivating at the sight of my dick.”
You moaned, still pampering the reddened head of his cock.
“I could.” He chuckled, his thumb coming to caress your jaw just like you did to him earlier. “You think I haven’t noticed the way you stare when I walk by the medical tent? How you practically undress me with your eyes? Such a desperate slut. Begging to be fuck just right. Acting like you're not thinking about hopping on this dick while working.”
After giving a last open mouthed kiss on the sensitive tip, you opened your mouth and presented your pink tongue to him, for which he rewarded you with a smiling expression. 
“You offer yourself to make me feel better?” He cocked an arrogant brow.
Nodding, you let out a small, high pitched whimper to hurry him up. 
“Hope you know what you’re doing, baby.”
 And with that, he grabbed a handful of your locks with his gloved limb and the other one he used to tug your chin further down, making room for the rest of his cock. In the blink of an eye, he was fucking your throat raw, having no mercy for you or the tears that spilled from our eyes when he would especially far down. He emphasized repeatedly how he had to train you to take all of him in, that you were not properly ready to take someone as big as him. He even said it with pity, making fun that you hadn’t been fucking with real men. 
But he was here now. And he was going to take care of you. 
Even if you lack the ability to relax your throat enough for you to take the whole 9 inch monstrosity that was violating your breathing canal, he was appreciative of the way you gagged around him and the noises you made whenever the tip would hit a wall. He even praised the movements of your tongue on his underside, rewarding you with a little slap on your cheek. Anakin laughed when he heard your horny moan at the harsh action. 
Suddenly, Anakin stopped bobbing your head up and down his length, causing the mess of saliva that was covering both you and him to dissolve into a mesly string connecting you two.
“Let me see how well your other hole makes me feel, baby. Up.” As your legs made an effort to stand without shaking, Anakin returned to his previous seating position, this time manspreading to let his cock breathe in all of its glory. Patting his lap, he called you in like a dog. “Here.”
Dying of shame at the wetness that dripped from your inner thighs, you spread yourself until both your knees were at each side of his hips. Anakin glanced at the leaking juices and fucking grinned the brightest smile. 
“So wet just for sucking dick.” His index and middle finger retrieved some of the spill, playing with your sensitive nub on their way. He tasted the juices himself, licking his fingers clean. He hummed in approval, ripping your panties apart to have more access and drink up more of your arousal. “Pretty little pussy. Do you think it’ll fit?” He asked you with a narcissistic loop side smile, as he sucked some more off his fingers. 
“I don’t know.” You answered honestly, shaking at the ministrations of his hands around your ass.
“It will.” He reassured you, pulling your skirt up and entangling it just above your hips. “You’ll make it fit.” He put his hands behind his back, on the bed, yielding control to you. “Now show me how bad you’ve been wanting this. Ride my dick.”
Using his strong shoulders for leverage, soon your slick pussy was sucking up his length. The first contact had you digging your nails on his shoulders, fighting through the pain of the stretch, this position only enlarging the already swollenness of his member. Gasping with an open mouth, you fought to push yourself even further down. Skin to skin, you were feeling all of him in: every curve, every wrinkle, every twitch. Even after remembering the condom, you opted for not mentioning it. There was no way you could say goodbye to feeling him bare.
Anakin pulled you in by the neck, drinking in the scream you let out when you bottomed out. His lips tasted better than anything you had ever tried, so sweet by nature and salty because of the sweat. You just wanted more and more; anything he was willing to give you.
“Faster.” Anakin demanded; clasping to your hips to bounce you harder on him, to remind you that this was about him, not you. 
Obeying like the sub you were, you humped him faster, adjusting yourself to surround his shoulders with your arms so you could pull his hair. You knew he liked it by the way he purred on your ear, embracing your waist tighter to manhandle you better. The hug you were both entrapped in ended with his big hands holding both your ass cheeks, groping them in such a disrespectful manner: splitting them open, squeezing them until it hurt, slapping without any sort of consideration. 
“Mhm, just like that, baby.” He praised blissed out, his hand cruelly smacking your already red and abused rear. “You do know how to ride dick. So good, taking me so well with this slutty pussy of yours.” 
Chasing your own pleasure, you gripped him harder and grinded on his wood, rubbing your clit with his pubic bone. You whimpered when you felt the delicious shock on your clit, which only incentivized you to rock your hips even faster. You were close, so close to coming undone, clenching him like a vice. 
“C’mon, you offer yourself to me, to use you as I seem fit.” Anakin pushed you back so you could see him clearly. “I want you to bounce, baby. Bounce those tight tits for me.” 
Anakin removed three buttons of your dress, enough for him to get drunk on the sight of your boobs pressed together and bouncing, but not all the way exposed. Like instructed, you bounced on his dick like it was your job to do so, enamored by the view of him hypnotized by your jumping breasts. Your nipples would shyly come to greet out of your white top, albeit Anakin wouldn’t have the full show because of the fabric that still caged them. 
Tired of the partial view, Anakin’s hands left your ass and traveled to their next destination: your full tits. Without removing another button, he took in the weight of your boobs inside of his palms and played with your meaty buds like he had never seen a pair before. The rough movements of his hands around the fat caused your dress to open a bit more, basically leaving you naked for him. 
“They’re more gorgeous than I ever anticipated.” He muttered, before enveloping a peak inside his mouth and lapping at it repeatedly. “Seeing you with this lame excuse of a uniform it’s harder than going to war, baby. Craving a taste of you and not being able to do anything about it, it’s torture. Pure torture.” He moaned in a ragged voice, sucking in the same nipple with closed eyes, savoring it. 
“You- you wanted me?” You cried, sliding in more frantically.
You were so close and he had it in his hands to make you come in that same instant. 
“Baby, I’ve been dreaming about filling this pussy to the brim the second you were drafted.” He exhaled with a smile. “I hate seeing you with the clones: gifting them smiles that should belong to me, parading this cleavage around when it should be for my eyes only, showing off this ass when only I should know the feeling of it inside my palms.”
“Anakin! I’m coming! I’m coming!” You announced, simultaneously feeling how his dick twitched inside of you. 
“Let me feel it, baby. Come all over my cock. Indulge me.” This time it was you who took the initiative to kiss him, thinking this would be your last chance to savour him before this was all over. 
You convulsed around his dick, just like he asked, tumbling over his shoulder to regain your breath. Anakin followed short after you, shuddering as he spilled over, biting your shoulder to muffle his groan. 
After the aftershocks dissipated and you regained consciousness, the shame of what had transpired hit you like a train. Fixing your dress to cover more of you, you wondered how long you should wait before saying something. Luckily, Anakin broke the ice first.
“Next time you should keep the hat. I like it.” He chuckled, making you giggle as well. 
Needless to say, you were now expected to be in his tent every night after he came back from battle, split open for him, ready to take in all of the frustration of the day and make him feel better.
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hrts4carmy · 4 months ago
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in tommy shelby’s words: “you belong to me, my property. no one touches my property,” please give us your take if this was carmy 🫢🫢🫢
omg friend. i so indulge in peaky blinders. obsessed!
ok tbh i feel like carmy would have trouble being so outright, but if u two already have a sort of developed relationship and he is confident (sexually too) with you then this is very him. thinking abt him having a lil jealous moment. (maybe ur fwb here, hmm)
thinking of you having an ex who shows up at the restaurant one day before open. playful laughter and innocent conversation turns into an uncomfortable situation fast. you don’t want things to escalate so you’re taking a gentle parenting approach and letting him down easy for the hundredth time. Richie sees all of this going down in front of house and can’t help himself but to stir the pot.
“Yo, Cousin. Some guy out here talking to your girl. Might wanna get on that.” He claps him on the shoulder.
Carmen looks up from his station, brows furrowing the slightest bit. “My- what? What’s going on?” He wipes his hands on a rag before his attention is taken entirely. He can’t focus on the dish anymore. What’s Richie talking about?
He peeks his head out the door to find none other than exactly what Richie said. You and some guy. Some skinny guy with shitty tattoos and brown hair. Some guy who is entirely too close to you, he thinks. As your voice starts to raise, said guy steps closer to you. Carmen watches as you take a step back, and he wonders when it’s appropriate to interrupt.
He makes the decision when the guy puts his hands on your waist, pulling you into him. Your hands fall to his chest and try to push him away, and Carmy can hear your voice all the way from the door of the kitchen.
“Jesse, get the fuck off of me.” You push harder, but to no avail. When you hear footsteps, you thank whatever God above. You almost curse yourself when you see who they belong to. Carmen’s face is cold, an expression only a little more intense than what you’ve all been on the receiving end of in the kitchen.
He pulls you back by your shoulder, positioning the two of you so he’s blocking your body. “We got a problem here or something?” The words come out of his mouth like venom, tilting his head as he asks. Your ex looks over Carmen’s shoulder to catch a glimpse of you, but is quickly intercepted by the broad shoulders covering you.
Jesse puts his hands up in surrender and shakes his head at the look on Carmen’s face. “Nah, man. You got that.” He nods. That almost makes him more mad. He balls his fists and presses his finger nails into his palms. A lame attempt to calm himself down. Don’t do anything stupid, you’re not even dating her. But the image floods his mind again, his hands on you where only Carmen’s should be.
“S’what I thought. Get the fuck out of my restaurant.” And he does, he makes quick work of it too. To say you’re thankful is an understatement, because Carmen really got him to go away without a fight. When he turns around, his face is slightly flushed. He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling through his nose. He almost looks more shaken up than you.
“Thanks for that. You good?” You raise an eyebrow at him, and he chuckles. A real chuckle as he throws his head back, and you feel like an outsider. Were you missing something? But when Carmen composes himself, you realize nothing is really funny at all. His hands find your waist, squeezing the same spot that Jesse had moments ago. Tighter, though, almost bruising.
“Meet in my office. 5 minutes.” Is all he says before letting go, walking back in the kitchen like nothing happened. You feel the whole situations given you whiplash, but of course you do what he says. Why wouldn’t you?
The 5 minutes you wait feels like an hour. You pick at the skin of your nails before you make it to his office door, turning the handle and stepping in. Your arm is immediately pulled in, as Carmy slams the door and pushes you up against it. You gasp, but it’s quickly swallowed from his mouth on yours.
Carmy kisses you like it’s the last time he’ll ever do it. Teeth scraping against eachother as his tongue slips in your mouth. Your hands come to his face as you pull him off to take a breath. You manage to speak between gasps of air. “Fuck is this for?”
He brings you in for another searing kiss before answering, foot knocking your knees apart. He brings his thigh between your legs, pressing it against you. You bite your lip to stifle a moan. “Fuckin’ idiot comes into my place and thinks he can just put his hands on you?” He scoffs, jolting his thigh between your legs again. “You’re mine, no one should touch you but me.” You find yourself deliriously nodding against him. Carmy coos at you, tone full of condescension.
“It’s okay. I’ll show you who you belong to. Remind you why he’s your ex and why I’m the one who fucks you.”
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acaciusbride · 2 years ago
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Oblivion { Joel Miller x Reader }
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Summary: Joel bends you over and fucks you until you pass out. You’re into it. There’s no plot, it’s just smut.
CWs: established consent / choking / praise / dirty talk / use of “good girl” / no daddy kink this time / unsafe sex / rough sex / dom!Joel / aftercare
MDNI / 18+ ONLY
Tagging @dreamingofdaddydin & @joelsgirl 💜
Joel has you on all fours. It’s one of his favourite positions, because it really gives him a good sense of how much bigger than you he is.
You’re not sure what the fuck he was eating in the QZ, but he’s far more broad and strong than most men in Jackson. Hell of a lot better looking, too. And not that you know really, but you get the sense that he knows his way around a woman far better than most men, too.
Not that you can really think of anything right now beyond what he’s doing to you.
He’s so much bigger than you, easily caging your body with his whenever he pleases, which is often. He goes between draping himself over you and sitting up straight, depending on how he wants to look at you.
Presently it’s the latter; he has both hands on your waist, pulling your much smaller body back against his hips, slamming his cock into you without much care as to how rough he’s being.
He knows you can take it. Knows that if you couldn’t, you’d tell him. He’d stop if you asked, wouldn’t be remotely pissy about it or guilt trip you for it, no questions asked. But you’ve never once asked him to stop.
Begged for more? Absolutely. Demanded he be rougher? Also a yes. You’re open to pretty much everything and anything, as long as it’s with him.
Your hands - so fucking tiny, they look so small and delicate whenever they’re wrapped around him - are fisted into the rumpled bed sheets, like holding on will keep you from losing your mind entirely. It won’t. Not with the sounds he’s already dragging out of you, high pitched moans and mewls that sound sweeter than anything he ever heard in a porno or real life.
You’ve got your ass in the air, back arched down in just the right position for him to hit that sensitive spot inside you with each thrust, heavy balls slapping against your clit as he fucks you.
And still, somehow, it registers that he’s holding back on you. That’s not what you want. You want him to fuck you senseless, literally. Fuck you so dumb that you can’t speak, can’t think, left a drooling mess in his bed with his cum dripping out of you down your thighs.
“God dammit, Joel…” you wriggle yourself back onto him, earning yourself a slap on the ass for your trouble.
“What, sweetheart? Not hard enough for you?” He grunts as he slams into you, hard, forcing your body forward into the mattress with the momentum.
You squeal loudly at the force of it, letting him know that’s exactly what you wanted.
You don’t know where the fuck he got his stamina, but you love it. Know he’ll complain about his back hurting later, but that’s fine. You probably won’t be able to walk later, so it seems even enough.
He doesn’t slow down, one hand leaving your waist to snake up to curl around your throat, hard enough to cut your airflow. Not too tight, not dangerous, but tight enough that with the force of how hard he’s fucking you, the room starts to spin.
Joel knows you, though. Knows the telltale signs of your body about to hit its peak, grinding his enormous length into you hard enough to tip you over the edge. He releases your throat just as you start to cum, holding you up with one hand as you shake beneath him.
“Fuck, baby, you get so tight when you cum for me…”
You know; it feels so fucking good it hurts, feeling your comparatively tiny cunt fluttering around him as he fucks you through … fuck. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cum for him tonight. Four? Five?
You’re getting to your breaking point, but you still won’t ask him to stop, won’t tap out. You don’t care what happens to you, how overstimulated you get. All that matters is him, the heat of his body against yours, the feeling of being so full of him, the rough praise of his deep voice as he fucks you.
“Such a good girl for me. Getting tired, darlin’? Want me to stop?” Joel knows the answer, taunts you anyway. He just wants to hear you say it.
“Don’t you fucking dare stop.”
You almost hiss it over your shoulder at him, feel his cock throb inside you at the words.
It’s like you’ve awakened a whole new side to him; his hands are vicelike on your waist as he pounds into you, no longer trying to be remotely gentle after you’ve just climaxed.
Harder and faster, one hand twisting into your hair and pulling hard as he fucks into you. The room fills with the sounds of your bodies moving together, your mewls and whimpers, his increasingly louder groans and curses.
“Fuck, baby, could just stay buried in this tiny perfect pussy forever, just made for me, weren’t you?”
You can’t answer him, just scream for him instead, the only intelligible word that comes out is his name. You’re exhausted, your climax building again, closer and more uncontrollable this time.
He knows it, holds you as steady as he can as he feels you start to shake, your tiny body finally reaching breaking point as you come undone around him.
Your eyes roll back in your head, vision fading with the intensity of your climax, every nerve in your body on fire as you shake in his arms.
It’s not the first time he’s literally fucked you unconscious. The first time, he stopped, and when you woke up? You demanded to know why.
It’s a spoken rule now that he doesn’t stop. There’s something unbelievably fucking hot about waking up to him inside you.
Still, he slows, caresses your back, strokes your hair, being almost gentle with you now as you slowly start to come back to yourself.
“There you are… there’s my good girl… you doing okay, sweetheart?”
You blink a few times, open your eyes. He’s still inside you, thick and full and practically splitting you open. Perfect.
“Mm… Joel?”
“Yeah, baby?” He rocks his hips lazily.
“Don’t fucking stop.”
You can’t see the grin on his face as he keeps moving, chasing his own release now. He won’t admit it, because it feels a bit fucked up, but he likes that you trust him so much, likes how helpless you are when he fucks you into oblivion.
“Not gonna stop, darlin’. Gonna make myself cum now, pretty little pussy gonna make me cum…”
He’s been holding his own release back for god knows how long, edging himself just to get you to this point, but fuck if it isn’t worth it.
He’s comparatively gentle now as he chases his own release, still rough but less controlled, deep sloppy strokes that have him groaning as he bottoms out each time.
“Fuck, baby, so good for me…”
He punctuates the sentence with a long moan, the sort of sound you want to commit to memory because it’s so fucking sexy, but then he’s throbbing and pulsing inside you, filling your aching overstimulated cunt with hot, thick ropes of his seed, grinding deep before he pulls out, watches it drip out of you onto the sheets.
Finally, finally, you collapse onto the bed, eyes half closed, panting and whimpering. The bed creaks as he gets up; vaguely you’re aware of him coming back, a warm cloth between your thighs, cleaning you up.
Once or twice, you’ve both been too exhausted to move, but Joel likes to take care of you after. The mattress dips again and then he’s there behind you, pulling your exhausted body against the solid wall of muscle that is his chest, the slight softness of his stomach.
“Did so well for me, sweet girl. So proud of you.” He presses a kiss to your temple, strokes your hair.
“Sleep now. My perfect girl…”
You’re more than happy to let him rock you into oblivion, a small part of you hoping you’ll wake up to him inside you again.
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 12 days ago
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Sum of All 2
Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: mob!Steve Rogers
Part of the mob drabbles au
Summary: you are given an unexpected assignment.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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You sit in silence next to the large, brooding man. You’ve heard of Steve Rogers before. Who hasn’t around these parts. You’re not a local, you moved here for the work. The job description didn’t exactly mention the state of the neighbourhood. 
You see the men in their tailored-suits, puffing on cigars, laughing, even cat-calling you as you pass. That’s just the city, you assumed. That was until you really started to notice the men. When you saw the tinted windows tailing the erratically driven beater cars or the shadows creeping around in the early hours outside your building. 
You keep to yourself. You’re just a visitor to this world. You have no plans to stay in it. 
He doesn’t say a word as he drives. You stare out the window. It’s like that awkward first date you went on as a teen with your stepfather’s co-op volunteer. Except worse. You have no idea what exactly this is. You try not to think about it or you might hyperventilate. 
He slows at a sign and you keep your gaze out the window. The city streets are clear and sunny despite the gloom in the car. You think back on the brief conversation between him and Brenner. He seemed irked by more than your upstart boss. ‘Engagement’... something happened there but you learn from the mistakes of others. Don’t ask. 
As Rogers taps the gas, a man in a hoodie dodges out in front of the car. The brakes lock and the man in the driver seat mutters. The jaywalker looks over and laughs, stopping to make a show as he taunts the driver. He sucks in and horks a wad of phlegm onto the windshield. 
Oh shit. 
You stare in shock. What the heck? You’ve met your fair share of wildcards in this city but you simply keep your head down and keep going. Not Rogers. 
He shifts into park. He’s still silent. He calmly undoes his seat belt and checks the traffic behind him. He gets out as the walk-by spitter continues across the street. The man doesn’t make it as he’s caught from behind and thrown onto the tarmac. 
Without hesitation, Rogers kicks the man’s side, then his stomach as the force of the first rolls him over. He continues his assault with a stony look on his face. His eyes are determined and his chin is set, but no furrow and scowl breaks his veneer. 
You watch as a swirling sensation stirs in your stomach and quickly invades your head. You don’t like violence and this is such an overreaction, you can hardly believe it’s real. It very much is. 
You can’t help the squeak that escapes you as Rogers bends over the man and grabs his skull between his hands. He smashes his face down into the street and you close your eyes. Oh god. This can’t be real. 
Your open your eyes to the ripple of reality. Others watch in a similar awe from the pavement. Drivers idle nearby. A police officer walks by and simply ignore the scene as Rogers stomps the man one last time. 
Fear courses through you. What did Brenner get you into? Why did you just go along with this? Your passivity was always bound to get you in trouble. 
You feel your body slacken as he stands straight and smooths his jacket. You slump in the seat and your eyes roll back as a wave of black specks invades your vision. Your chest feels ready to burst, your head too as you sink into oblivion. 
When you come to, the car is moving again. You lurch forward as the motion flips your stomach. You grunt and try to shake of the disorientation. You put your hand on the dash and gulp in air. 
“You fainted,” Rogers says dully. 
You blink and turn to look at him. You slowly sit back, “yeah, I did. Sorry.” 
He doesn’t offer any other comment. You don’t know what to say or do. You’re embarrassed at how you just passed out but you didn’t really have a choice. You’ve never seen anything like that. And now this man, who can light up like a match, 
“What kinda person...” you begin and flinch at your own voice, “just spits on someone’s car like that?” 
You swallow dryly at your redirection. Sometimes, your thoughts bubble through too quickly but you caught yourself. You think. 
He glances over at you then back to the road. 
“Yeah, like,” you ramble, your nerves bouncing off each other, “if I had a nice car, or a car at all, I’d be mad too. That’s not... cool.” 
You cross your arms as if you’re holding yourself together. You lean back and stare at the road. You’re too afraid to look at Rogers. He can probably hear your fear in your voice. 
“Right, that guy deserved it.” He says. “Got no idea what I’m dealing with. Don’t need that.” 
You nod and meter out a breath, “totally.” 
He grunts. You think he bought it. At least, he knows you’re too scared to tell him your real thoughts if he doesn’t. 
He drives on wordlessly. He’s tense, you’re tense. Everything is tense. 
You glance over at his knuckles as he grips the wheel tight. They’re bruised and there’s a bit of blood on the middle one. Your mind is racing. You see his fists flashing. This man is a maniac. 
“That must hurt,” you say. 
“Huh?” He utters. 
“Your hands.” You don’t know why you’re talking but if you sit there in silence any longer, you’re going to lose your mind.  
He shrugs, “don’t feel it right away.” 
“Right, right, of course, makes sense,” you accept, “I wouldn’t know. I never... whatever. Sorry, I’m going to be quiet.” 
You look out the window and focus on the buildings instead. Just don’t look at him. If you don’t, he can’t hurt you. Like the boogeyman. 
“I’m fine,” he says after a moment. “You don’t need to worry about me.” 
You nod and keep your eyes aimed out at the sidewalk. You’re not really worried about him. You’re worried about you. Well, you’ll just be sure to stay on his good side. 
185 notes · View notes
moni-logues · 2 months ago
Text
Long, Long, Long
Pairing: Jin x reader (afab)
Genre: exes-to-lovers, angst, smut
Word count: 6.3k
Content: piv sex (it's vague-ish, so it's not specified whether protected or not), fingering
Summary: A not-exactly-by-chance encounter gives you and Jin a second chance to get it right. You don't. Will Jin give you a third? [based on the song Long Long Long by The Beatles as part of the Across the BTUniverse collab hosted by @ugh-yoongi]
* * *
“Hi.” 
Your voice was thin, airy, all the breath trapped in your throat as your eyes met his for the first time in years.  
“Hi.” 
It was like an echo in reverse: his voice the strong, confident greeting and yours the weak memory of it.  
“Didn’t expect to see you here,” he continued and you felt your head cock to the side. 
“I mean... He’s my cousin...” 
“Right!”  
His laugh cut straight through you, because you hadn't been expecting it. Hadn’t been expecting to be affected by him at all.  
“I always forget you’re related.” 
“It’s how you and I met.” 
Had he forgotten? Why did it hurt so much that he might have? Why did you care? You broke up with him! Years ago! This was your choice! But you couldn’t stop the accusation lingering in your tone. You weren’t sure if you wanted him to hear it, too. 
“I remember,” he replied, face serious. Serious but ... soft? Maybe? If you looked hard enough.  
You cleared your throat to pierce the awkward silence that followed. 
“How have you been?”  
“Yeah, pretty good. Same old, y’know. You?” 
“Oh, same, yeah. Nothing to report.” 
You chuckled self-consciously, wondering when you could get out of this conversation, away from him. He offered a bare grin back and you stood there, looking at each other, for long enough that you almost started to feel the world fall away; you almost started to believe you saw something in his eyes, something you’d not seen for such a long time, something you’d never expected to see again.  
Your lips were parting, mouth about to say who knew what, when Namjoon startled you with a slap on the shoulder. 
“Hey, guys!” 
You both jumped, flinched, and did another awkward laugh that Namjoon would almost certainly not have noticed. 
“Having fun?” he asked, grin wide and eyes shining, face a little too red to be sober. 
“Yeah, of course!” 
“It’s your wedding! Who wouldn’t be having fun?!” 
That appeared to satisfy Namjoon and he left as abruptly as he arrived, but it had disturbed something between the two of you. You felt unable to look at Seokjin again. You mumbled something almost inaudible and walked away.  
You went outside, where almost no one was. It was far too hot and humid, the air clinging close to you like a second skin. It was suffocating, almost too wet to breathe, but it was a relief from being inside. Where he was.  
You sat yourself down on the stone steps around the corner, out of sight. You needed a moment to think things through. It had been a long time and you had thought it was all behind you, but seeing him again brought it screaming back, and you needed to remind yourself of what had happened. 
* * *  
Seokjin slumped in his chair, fingers on the keyboard unmoving. He liked gaming because it made him feel peaceful, even if the game was infuriating. It took him outside of his head, outside of his troubles and stresses. He could leave everything behind and let himself be absorbed into the world of the game. It was relaxing. It was refreshing. It was, often, a well-needed break.  
Tonight, though, he just couldn’t get there. Couldn’t bring himself to leave the real world behind. This time, it felt too big. His problems too important to just run away from, even if only temporarily.  
He loved you. Knew it down to his bones. Felt that you were as much a part of him as they were. Couldn’t imagine a world in which you weren’t together but found himself thinking about it all the same.  
He wondered how often you made each other happy, because it felt rare these days. He tried to remember the last time you greeted each other with actual smiles on your faces—smiles that you meant, smiles that you felt. He couldn’t pinpoint the moment at which it had got difficult. It had happened slowly; he knew that much. He knew, when you moved in together, that he was happy. That you were happy, too. That you both were full of hope and enthusiasm and love. He knew, now, that he wasn’t. 
He sighed heavily. That was the first time he’d really thought it. The first time those words had risen in his mind, floating to the top like pond scum. He stared, unseeing, at the screen in front of him. All he could see was you. You then and you now. What had happened to you? What had happened to him? 
You felt Seokjin roll out of bed. You didn’t roll over to him, ask him where he was going, say good morning. You stayed, facing away, on your side.  
You used to love waking up with him. Used to snuggle down at night, gleeful about the morning you knew was coming. You looked forward to every new day because they all started with him. Started and ended and then started again. Your days were book-ended with him, bound by him, supported by him. It felt exactly as it should have, you thought. Right. Correct. As it should have been. 
You squeezed your eyes tightly shut, trying not to cry. Every morning a fresh heartbreak. Every morning, rubbing exhaustion from your eyes as you crept to bed later and later at night, anything to delay that cold slide into sheets, the slipping off to sleep knowing you’d be waking to disappointment.  
You were going to have to talk about it. You’d both been doing a good job avoiding it so far, but something had to give. You didn’t know how much longer you had left in you. Didn’t know if you could keep tip-toeing around, ignoring each other, pretending things were normal. Pretending you were happy.  
Were you? At that point, you weren’t even sure you were still pretending. You passed each other like ships in the night because you were too scared to talk. Too scared of another argument with no end. No resolution.  
Except one. 
That one.  
The one you didn’t dare think about.   
“We have to do something,” you said, quietly, the words dropping to the floor, dark and heavy.  
“I don’t want to,” Jin replied.  
You took a beat to swallow your frustration; you didn’t want to either. You didn’t want this. You didn’t plan this. You hadn’t planned for this. This hadn’t figured in any of your plans when you had signed a lease with him, merged your life with his.  
You rubbed at your temples. Neither of you said anything. You sat, in silence, side by side on the sofa. You thought yourself around in circles. You wrangled with the problem again, as though you hadn’t done so a thousand times before. You tried to find something, some other angle, some fresh perspective that might give you a way out. You made your head hurt with it. The thump of your heart resounded inside your skull, hit you over the head every second.  
You were tired. So tired. Of all of it. Everything. Of the misery you felt. Of the misery where joy had once been. Of this incredibly pregnant absence that surrounded you. These edges, frayed and sharp, screaming in neon about what used to be there, what used to fill them.  
Some days, you had thought about not coming home. Not ditching your whole life, just... not coming home for a day. Maybe two. Staying at a friend’s. Eventually, you always made your way back there, because you weren’t able to admit to anyone that things were falling apart, but you spent the journey pretending you were heading somewhere else. That there was a destination at the end that wouldn’t break your heart. 
“I think we have to,” you whispered, your voice cracking on tears. “We can’t just keep living like this. You know it as well as I do: we’re not in this anymore. It’s over.” 
And Jin couldn’t say anything. Because he knew you were right. He just didn’t want you to be right. He wanted this to be right: him, you, together. He wanted it to be like it was. Before... Before he wasn’t even sure what. Life? Work? The everyday drudgery of existence somehow grinding you both down so that you didn’t have time for each other, didn’t have space, didn’t have energy. You lived together in relative peace and that was all you had now. Nothing less but nothing more.  
You’d already done all the arguments. The ‘you aren’t prioritising this relationship’ one and the ‘we need to make more of an effort’ one and the ‘why are we even together then?’ one. All of those a hundred times and others besides. They never fixed anything. Only made you both feel worse. Frustrated. Guilty. Ashamed. Scared.  
So he had known this was coming and was being cowardly, making you the one to say it. He felt bad for that but he couldn’t. It hurt enough just to hear you say the words; he couldn’t be the one to rip them from his lungs, to tear down everything you had built together. He was a coward. Had been a coward all this time, trying to run from this.  
Knowing it was coming didn’t make it hurt any less. He couldn’t reply immediately, had to take a minute to let the initial sting wear off. Kept waiting for it to fade. Gave himself a little longer to feel composed. To stop feeling shocked and confused and hurt, hurt, hurt.  
He dropped his head into his hands, thoroughly shamed, chastising himself for making you do this, for still not being able to agree. Not being able to help you with this. He knew you were right but he couldn’t look it in the eye. 
“Jin,” you croaked. Pleading.  
He swore under his breath, tears burning in his own eyes. He was going to let you down. Had been doing it for months. Was going to do it again. He could hear you crying, couldn’t bear to look over and see it, too. He bit down on his lip, chose to focus on that; grabbed his hair with his fingers and pulled until it hurt, chose to focus on that. Anything but the pain of hearing you cry. Anything but the pain of his heart, bleeding freely, filling him with heartbreak.  
“We have to break up,” you whispered, some time later, when your breath had evened out a little, when Jin had blood on his tongue and fewer strands in his scalp.  
“I don’t want to,” he whispered back.  
A coward. He was a coward. He knew it.  
You weren’t. You were going to do it. What he couldn’t. Pull the plug. End it all. Walk away. Leave.  
You did. 
* * * 
“This seat taken?” 
You barely registered the words, let alone the voice. You waved a hand in a vague gesture of an answer. It wasn’t until he sat down and that lost, familiar scent hit your nose that you realised who it was.  
Your head snapped around, looking at him, and, once he met your gaze, you couldn’t look away.  
Were they the same? Those eyes? Were they exactly as you remembered? You couldn’t be sure. They looked similar enough, familiar enough, deep and dark as they had ever been. You just couldn’t see beyond them anymore. Couldn’t see what he was thinking or feeling. Had lost the skill when you lost him, you supposed. You searched his face for clues, for a hint of-- 
You stopped yourself. You were about to think of him as ‘your Seokjin’ but he wasn’t that. Hadn’t been for a long time. He could be someone else entirely now. Even if you felt catapulted back in time, hurtling into the past when you had been his, when there had been a connection between you, a thread, thoroughly tangled, so well knit that you had thought it would never unravel, that didn’t mean he felt it, too. You had no right to expect that. To want it. 
Did you want it? 
“They’re organising a search party for you, y’know,” he said lightly, lips lifting slightly at the corners. 
“Oh?” 
“You missed the first dance-” 
“Oh, fuck!” 
Finally bringing yourself back to the real world, you gazed around yourself, realised how low the sun had got in the sky, saw all the bugs flying around you, making a feast of your skin. It was still sticky and close, the encroaching dark bringing with it no chill.  
Seokjin laughed. 
“Don’t worry; Hobi filmed the whole thing. They attempted a lift and Namjoon dropped her.” 
You gasped.  
“No!” 
“Yes!” 
You laughed, harder than you might have otherwise, because it was such a relief to laugh, to cut through the tension you were feeling.  
“Is she ok?” 
“Of course. It’s the perfect wedding anecdote: no harm, no foul, caught on tape.” 
“You’ll have to get Hobi to send that to me.” 
“It’s already on the internet.” 
You wanted to fill the silence. You wanted to keep this going: this light chat, this friendly conversation. You wanted to show yourself that you could do it. You had been working on it, steeling yourself because you had known you would be seeing him here, that you wouldn’t be able to avoid it. You’d been preparing. Reminding yourself of your decisions, of where you were now because of them. Propping them up with a little too much bluster—but it was only one night. This facade did not have to be robust; it just had to be opaque. 
“We should go back inside,” Seokjin offered instead.  
“I don't want to,” you said without thinking.  
And those four words did it: stabbed you hard in the chest, right where you were softest. You swallowed your gasp, held your breath. It hurt like it had three years ago. How could your heart feel so freshly cleaved when you had been sure it was all solid scar tissue? Healed and weathered, maybe, but sewn together all the same.  
You wondered if he would say it. If he even still remembered. You were waiting for it, tense and aching and bleeding all over. The seconds were weeks, months, years. Three years. Three years, three months and, you calculated it quickly, five days. You winced, cheeks flaming, eyes burning.  
“Ok,” he said eventually. “We don’t have to.” 
When you looked at him, his heart broke a little. Watery and wide, your eyes pleaded with him, said things he couldn’t hear. Not anymore. He had wanted to apologise. Had almost done it so many times, reached out to you just to say sorry. Sorry for- 
All of it.  
Sometimes he was sorry you ever met. Sometimes he was sorry you fell in love. He was sorry that it didn’t work. Sorry that he couldn’t fix it. Sorry that you walked away. Sorry that he let you. Sorry that he didn’t run after you.  
“I’m sorry,” he said, plainly, finally.  
He wasn’t sure that he wasn’t still being selfish, that this wasn’t more for himself than it was for you but he couldn’t let this opportunity pass. He might never see you again. Or he would see you: when Namjoon had his first baby, at their 100-day party, and every year after that, maybe. He wasn’t sure which would be worse. 
“For what?” 
He sighed and looked at his hands.  
“Everything, I suppose. That it didn’t work out between us.” 
He saw you shrug in his periphery, hoped that wasn’t how you really felt. 
“It’s ok. Wasn’t your fault. We just... didn’t work out.” 
There was a long pause. You were going to let him lead the conversation because you didn’t trust yourself to. Didn’t trust yourself not to rip your heart open at the seams and ask him to break it again. Because despite all the time that had passed, despite the clean break, the no-contact, it didn’t feel finished. You weren’t done. You had tapped a rich seam you thought had dried up; if you let it, it would overflow.  
“Can you believe they’re actually married?” he asked.  
You laughed. This was easier territory. This was happy. This was joyful. This was everything you and he were not. 
“Yeah, sure. Why not?” 
“Given how it all started.” 
“Oh, that was so long ago. They’ve been happy for ages now.” 
They had and it made your heart lighter. That they turned it around. That somehow mess and rubble turned into solid foundations. That the house they built out of brick was strong and stable and full of laughter. 
“... We were happy once, weren’t we?” 
You took a breath before you turned to look at him, filled yourself up with air as if it would keep other things out. Other things like the aching familiarity of affection for him. The instinct to take his hand in yours, to rest your head on his shoulder. The feeling that you wanted to make everything better for him. The belief that you could.  
Other things like love.  
“Yeah, we were happy,” you said stiffly.  
“I’m not sure where it went wrong.” 
He turned, then, finally looking at you. You had the same sensation you had earlier: the sense of everything else falling away; the hint of something becoming clearer.  
He kissed you.  
Or you kissed him.  
Either way, it was happening.  
“Is this stupid?” you whispered against his lips, not daring to pull back farther, to open your eyes. 
“Probably,” he replied. “But I think we should do it anyway.” 
He didn’t give you the opportunity to argue, locking his lips against yours again. You didn’t want to argue. You wanted to fall into him, give in to him, give in to something you’d been denying that you wanted all this time. All these years.  
In just one kiss, those years disappeared. The time apart collapsed into nothing and you were together again. Like you used to be. You could ignore everything around you; there was no wedding, no party, no formalwear. It was just you and him. As it always should have been.  
He didn’t stop and neither did you. Not when he brought his hands to cup your face. Not when you shifted closer to him. Not when he rolled his tongue over yours. Not when you clutched at the front of his shirt, pulling him closer.  
Only when you had to move, when the constriction of the steps and your dress meant you couldn’t get any closer to him did you stop. Did you pause. Did you take a breath. 
“Jin,” you began, the pounding of your heart making you a little breathless already. 
“Don’t,” he whispered back. “Please don’t.” 
“Don’t what?” 
He sighed and you felt him sit back, drift away from you, hands falling to his lap.  
“Don’t say that we shouldn’t do this. Or don’t say we should talk about things. Don’t say-... I don’t want to say anything.” 
His plea was echoed in his eyes and you bit your tongue. For a second at least. For long enough for him to stand and offer his hand to you. For long enough that you took it. That you let him lead you back inside, out of the room, up the stairs. 
He opened the door to his hotel room and held it for you, his other hand still cupped around yours. He let it shut in silence and you sat on the bed. Your chest was bursting. Felt full. Full like a barrel bomb hurtling out of the sky. You didn’t know the damage it would do if it fell. If you let it smash itself open on the floor of this hotel room.  
So, you didn’t let it. Didn’t give it a chance. You locked eyes with Jin and reached out for him. Your hand fell to the knot of his tie and you dug your fingers into it, loosening, your other hand joining to break it apart and pull it from underneath his collar. Then your fingers went to work on the top buttons of his shirt, the ones on his waistcoat, pushing his jacket off his shoulders to let it fall to the floor.  
Jin wasn’t still as he let you undress him. He worked as gently and quietly as you did, using deft fingers to pull grips from your hair, freeing it from its tangles and running his fingers through your tresses as they ran like rivulets down your back, crossing your collar bones and curling just above your chest. You remembered with a smile and a twinge in your heart that he always wanted you to grow your hair long. That you had cut it into a long bob a year or so before you broke up and he never stopped mentioning, firstly, how beautiful you were regardless but, secondly, how much he liked your hair when it was long enough to tie into ropes, to curl endlessly around his fingers.  
You were silent like that—unspeaking—so that when he brought his lips to yours again, when his tongue found yours and you could taste him like you had a thousand times before, your little sigh of contentment was loud. Loud, too, was his grunt as you ran your hands down his chest and palmed at his trousers. You let those sounds fill the room. They expanded like air until it was full of small, breathless noises, ones you’d not heard for years. Ones you’d thought you wouldn’t hear again.  
Sounds you had forgotten: Jin’s intake of breath when your teeth met his neck, the way it sucked in through his teeth like a gasp, as if it hurt though you knew that it didn’t; the sound of a zip undoing and the quiet, grunted exhale that always accompanied it as your fingers grazed his length (that you didn’t even know if he was aware he was making, that he made the same every time); the moan when your fingers did more than graze, when they wrapped around him, cool against the solid heat of his cock, and squeezed a little. 
Sounds he had forgotten: your moan when his mouth found your nipple, when he felt it shiver to attention under his lips; the way even your breathing whined, each exhale carrying with it a sweet, sighed vowel which floated into the air to make space for the next; the way his name sounded in your mouth, the way your lips pushed and pulled to form it, the way the final consonant became a sound of its own, stressed as if you didn’t want it to end that quickly. 
Sounds you had both forgotten: the ones you made together. The rush and click of your kisses, breathing heavily, lips pressed together and then apart, at irregular intervals because sometimes you wanted to pepper kisses all across his perfect face and sometimes you wanted to breathe his breath back to him, wanted to taste him forever, wanted your tongue to know his like it used to.  
The wetter, slick squelch of his fingers pressing into you, coated in your arousal, then their insistent pressure that made you whine, made you keen, made your breaths high-pitched and long.  
The slap of his skin against yours as you sat above him and let him fuck into you from below. The accompanying grunts, answered by your panting his name: a word you thought your body had forgotten but that came without your say so, automatically, bubbling up from your lungs like a long-forgotten spring. Like it was natural. 
The sound he made as he came, his throat tight around the vowel as it stopped the air. The opening sigh of your name immediately following it.  
“Fuck,” Jin whispered as you let your body fall forward into his arms, chest to chest, your head on his shoulder.  
“Fuck,” you replied.  
The silence was complete, then. The drone of the air-conditioning and a fly batting at the window pane didn’t reach you. The noise of the disco two flights below didn’t either. It was just the two of you and your silence. The two of you with your arms around each other. In a bubble. Back in time.  
You fell asleep like that: the alcohol and the orgasms conspiring to knock you out before you could knock sense into yourselves. 
The night was deep when you finally woke. You shivered and goosebumps rippled across your skin—too cold now, with the aircon still going. Jin’s head was tipped back, his mouth slightly open, eyelids fluttering as he dreamt. You started to smile and then stopped yourself. 
What were you doing? 
What had you done? 
You realised you were cold on the inside, too. That whatever your chest had been full of earlier was gone now. An icy dread began to swim in your veins. A terror.  
What a fucking stupid thing to have done.  
Jin slept deeply and you’d never been more grateful for it than you were then. You extricated yourself from his heavy limbs, pulled your dress over your head and grabbed your underwear and shoes in your hands. You opened the door of his hotel room as quietly as you could and padded on tiptoes back to your own. 
* * * 
“Hi.” 
Your voice was quiet, choked, blood racing to your face, cheeks burning. The reply didn’t come. He just looked at you. Blinked once. Kept looking at you.  
That was fair enough, you thought. He didn’t have to speak to you. Hadn’t done for over a year now.  
Not that you had spoken to him. Not that you’d been in touch at all after walking out on him at Namjoon’s wedding. Walking out on him as he slept after the two of you had slept together. 
But you did wish he would either say something or stop looking. It occurred to you that you could look away. You could walk away. Technically, anyway. Your legs could move and you’d been walking successfully for the better part of 30 years now.  
But you couldn’t do it again.  
Jin nodded with the smallest twitch of his head and turned away. He didn’t know what to say. Didn’t really know how to say anything without the entire monologue pouring out. The one he’d been thinking to himself in quiet moments. The one he had ranted in his head for days after the wedding. It was softer now than it had been then, but it wasn’t soft. He didn’t want to give you soft, not again.  
He knew the break-up was as much his fault as yours. Or that it was no one’s fault exactly. He wasn’t angry with you for the break-up and now he had almost stopped being angry with himself, too. Because there had been a way back. He had thought you would walk it. With him. He had thought that the door had been opened and at least you would fucking talk about it.  
Then he woke up alone.  
So, he didn’t know what to say to you now, a year later. A year in which your silence resounded. He had got the message.  
It had been a year. You knew that. You were painfully aware of that. You had seen it coming, had been almost counting down the days with every morning that you woke up and didn’t speak to him. Didn’t reach out. Didn’t apologise or try to explain. It had been another year without him.  
You hadn’t gone back to the wedding party. Had sat in your own hotel room and cried. Had sat in your own bed in your own house and cried. On and off. Occasionally. When you let yourself think about it. Him.  
It was months before you told anyone because you didn’t want it to be real. You didn’t want to believe that you had been that stupid. All your old wounds opening up, as if you had scurvy so bad your heart was unstitching itself. Except it wasn’t a vitamin C deficiency, it was you. You, actively ripping at the seams. You, digging around inside your deepest hurt. Fucking around in it.  
That was why you hadn’t called. Messaged. Carrier pigeoned. Smoke signalled. Telegrammed. Sent a message via your cousin and his friend, Namjoon. 
Your relationship hadn’t worked. You had broken up. You weren’t happy together. Things had changed. You clung to these truths like lifelines. They were facts and facts didn’t change no matter how you felt about them. Not even if you wanted them to.  
You didn’t speak to Jin at your second cousin’s (first cousin once removed? Namjoon’s son’s) 100-days party. He didn’t speak to you, actually, but you pretended it was mutual. You stayed out of the way and, eventually, the party ended. 
* * * 
“Hi.” 
You’d practised this. You knew he would be here and you had cemented closed those holes in your heart. You had papered over the cracks and you were going to be civil. Polite. Friendly, even. You could do this. So far, your voice was playing ball. That was an absolutely textbook greeting. 
“Hi.” 
A response this time. Promising.  
“I’ve missed you.” 
Jesus fucking wept. That wasn’t part of the plan. By the look on his face, Jin also was not expecting you to say something like that but, as ever, he schooled his face quickly back into one of neutrality.  
“Have you?” he asked.  
You winced at the edge in his voice and knew you deserved it. You didn’t know how to answer, because your rational brain had taken back control and you didn’t want to wade into those waters. 
He sighed sharply, exhaling through his nose; he turned to leave and you let him. You watched him disappear through a doorway and tipped your head back against the wall, bumping it deliberately once, twice, three times.  
“H-” 
“Please don’t say fucking ‘hi’ to me again.” 
The word died on your tongue.  
“What do you want?” Jin asked, not aggressive, just aggrieved.  
“To talk?” 
You saw him bite his tongue. Saw him chew and swallow the sharp retort he wanted to give you. 
“About?” 
You took a deep breath. 
“Us?” 
“I wasn’t aware there was an ‘us’.” 
“Jin, plea-” 
“No.” 
“I-” 
“No. Do you know how much I beat myself up when we ended things? When you ended things – because I couldn’t do it. I should have. I should have been the one to take that hit, but I let you do it because I was a fucking coward. I was scared to lose you but not scared enough to make things right between us, apparently. Just enough to fuck things up between us for good. I thought that was my fault. 
“And it fucking hurt because I missed you. All the time. I thought, all the time, about you and the life that we should’ve been living together still. And it hurt knowing that I ruined it. I fumbled you as the kids apparently say these days. I thought it was on me. 
“Then there you were at the wedding and it took me longer than it should have but I...”  
He paused and you couldn’t have filled the silence if you’d wanted to. He threw a hand in the air. 
“But what do I know? I got it wrong once and then obviously got it wrong a second time. You have no idea what it felt like waking up to an empty bed that morning.” 
It had been embarrassing. Scalding like a pot of boiling water thrown in his face. Had hurt like it, too. Jin had cursed his impulsivity, knowing that you should have had the conversation first, should have made things clear before going and fucking. Fucking things up. He just hadn’t been able to help himself: there you were, in his arms again, where he never thought you’d be. So, he had let sense take its leave and he had assumed it would all get straightened out afterwards. How naive he had been. 
“I’m so-” 
“Don’t say you’re sorry. What does it matter now? It doesn’t. I got the message. Loud and clear. We’re done. I get it. I’ll get over it. Just-” 
“Don’t.” 
“Don’t what?” 
You had to swallow, your mouth suddenly full of saliva, your stomach churning; you weren’t sure you weren’t about to open your mouth and vomit, but you had to say it.  
“Don’t get over it. Me. Don’t get over me.” 
His expression remained guarded, but his eyes flashed and you knew that expression. You knew him. Down to his bones you knew him and it all seemed so simple now, somehow. Laid out in front of you; spelt out in sky-writing; blaring like a klaxon.  
Your foot was already off the ground, about to rush to him, kiss him, make real all the things that had been only in your heart and mind for the last year and some. Maybe there was a reason you couldn’t get over him: that you shouldn’t. That the last time should never have been the last time. That you needed to be apart only so you could come back together. That you had lived with him and lived without him and you knew which you preferred.  
It welled up in you like a wave, sucking back on the shore as it rose, preparing to crash with full force and you took a step forward and lifted your other foot to take one more. 
Then you paused. Because that’s exactly what you’d done last time and he wouldn’t do it again. Wouldn’t step foot in what might’ve been a trap. You owed it to him to talk first. To lay yourself bare before him, emotionally this time. To let him see. 
“I shouldn’t have left,” you began, foot planted firmly on the floor. “That was really... It was shit. It was mean. It was uncalled for. I shouldn’t have done it. It wasn’t fair. And I am sorry, even if you don’t want to hear it. I am sorry and I’ve been kicking myself for doing it since the door shut behind me that morning.  
“It wasn’t your fault. At all. I never blamed you for our break-up. You didn’t do anything wrong. We just... Well, I don’t know; maybe we both stopped trying. But it wasn’t just you. It always takes two. You shouldn’t have been beating yourself up for it. I’m sorry for that, too. 
“I’ve been beating myself up for leaving,” you continued. “Honestly? I was scared. I didn’t expect it. I had put so much work into getting over it, being ok with seeing you again, believing that the break-up was the right thing to do and that there was nothing between us anymore.  
“It wasn’t true. None of it. Because the first time we’re in a room together after breaking up, we have sex?” You chuckled, a little rueful. “Who the fuck was I kidding? I just don’t think we’re made to be apart.” 
“We can’t just get back together.” 
“Why not?” 
Jin laughed then—more out of surprise than anything else. He had sworn he was done with you. He was determined to be. Because, well, that’s how the saying goes, isn’t it? Fool me twice... It was unfair to put it in those terms, he knew, but he still wasn’t prepared to put himself in another position that would see him heartbroken. Again. For the third time.  
But here you were, saying things he’d only ever dreamt you’d say. Saying them and looking at him like you meant it. At least, he thought that was what you looked like. Did he know you well enough still to make that call?  
You took a deep breath and closed your eyes as you let it go, because he was just looking at you. Looking at you with such uncertainty in his eyes. He was very good at keeping his guard up; you had been surprised when you learnt that. Had thought that you’d got to know him pretty well until he revealed to you that you barely knew him at all. Had let you take a peek at the depths beneath his not very still waters. It had been something you loved so much about him: the way you could share a look in a crowded room and only you would understand. The way he let you in had made you feel special because you were one of a small, select group. You had betrayed that trust.  
You understood his doubt. Knew he had every reason to feel it. Knew that you had to swallow your own fear and uncertainty for it. 
“Why not?” you repeated, stronger this time, a proper challenge. 
He spluttered.  
“Wel-, becau-... It-... I don’t know!”  
You did step forward this time. Sure, short strides. Crossing the room you’d been standing at opposite sides of until you were standing just an arm’s length from him.  
“Why not?” 
“Because...”  
His voice was barely a whisper now. You reached forward for his hands and he gave them to you. You took another step forward. 
“Why not?” you whispered back, feet moving you towards him all on their own now, until you had to crane your neck to look up at him, until you could smell his aftershave, feel the puff of his shocked little exhale. “I’m in,” you told him. “I meant it: I don’t think we were made to be apart. We’ve done apart. I don’t want to do it anymore. Didn’t want to do it in the first place. Please. Please give me another chance.” 
He scoffed, his eyebrows briefly high on his forehead. 
“It’s not you who needs another chance,” he replied. “It’s me.” 
“Ok, then, I’ll give it to you. Have it. Take it. Me. Please.” 
“Are you sure?” 
You didn’t need words to tell him how sure you were.  
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meanbossart · 9 months ago
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Oh boy, VaM is kind of a trial and error experience LOL I couldn't really show you how to use the interface and stuff without a whole video or something, but it's not THAT difficult to get a hang of if you just give yourself a day or two to play around, not to mention the number of tutorials you find out there. Luckily, if you only want to use it as a reference software that makes the process far easier (to this day I have no idea how to animate on that thing, since that's not what I use it for)
As for how I use it, it's pretty self explanatory - if there's a complicated pose I want to draw but I'm either having trouble with it, or just want to double-check angles/anatomy, I will use it as a resource! I use for most of my "proper" pieces (y'know, the nicer looking ones) and every once in a while for my silly comics if I'm having trouble with a pose.
Lets use this drawing for example (the character on top of DU drow belongs to @namespara )
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I don't draw a lot of mud-wrestling (shocking, I know) but I had an idea of the kind of pose I wanted them to be in. So the very first thing I did was make a rough sketch of what I was envisioning:
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I often do a rough sketch first, even If I know I'm going to be pulling the program up because A) It's less tedious than adjusting the models over and over again until I pick a pose and B) because sometimes I'll decide I don't need the reference, after all, and so that's 30 minutes I'll have spared myself of playing around on the software.
Now, this is a pretty complicated pose! It's in a weird angle and the bodies are making contact in ways I'm not used to depicting, so I did choose to whip out VaM for this one. I went into the program and after some messing around, I flopped my little dolls together like this:
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Now something really cool about VaM is that you can completely customize your models, and if you have the patience, I would definitely encourage you to do so! Obviously, you don't have to make picture perfect replicas of every single character you have, but as you can see here I have made a DU drow "decoy" to help me better understand some of his features when I draw him: he has a strong brow, a short nose, a square jawline - these are all going to look a very specific way from certain angles, and I might not always be sure of how to draw it right! So it's useful to have models that bear SOME semblance to the character so you can better understand how different viewpoints will affect their bone structure and mass.
Also thank fucking god for the elf-ear slider. Figuring out how to draw those shits from certain angles was a huge pain in the ass when I started drawing DnD races.
So, with the reference in hand, I go over the sketch again:
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Now you may notice that I don't stick to the reference 100%. There's three reasons for this:
posing on VaM is tedious as hell. You can get something incredibly natural looking and picture-perfect to reference from if you wish, but it's going to take you hours to do. So, for the most part I just slap guys together until the results are "close enough" and use that.
In my opinion, you should always aim to ENHANCE your reference material, not replicate it exactly!
While VaM is a PRETTY DANG GOOD source of anatomical reference, it isn't perfect, I often supplement it with further reference from real life resources or make tweaks based on my own knowledge where I catch it falling short (and, antithetical to what I just said, I sometimes fuck the anatomy up further on purpose if I think it looks better that way LOL it's all jazz baby).
Then lines, color, yada yada. I don't have a tutorial on that and I don't think I could make one, because my process is chaotic as hell, but I do at times use Virt-a-mate as loose reference for lighting too when coloring - waaaaayyyy less so however, because that process is even more tedious and I feel like I often get better results by just winging it. It is a feature of the program though, and I'm sure it would be helpful for someone who has a difficult time visualizing lights and shadows. I only started using this program a few months ago, so I happened to already have a pretty good understanding of that kind of thing and just don't personally feel like I get much out of that particular mechanic.
Here's a few other examples of pieces that I made reference for (WARNING: Suggestive)
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Now, for the question many of you may want to ask:
"Can I trace this junk?"
And to that, I say: Buddy, you can do whatever the hell you want with the reference material you created.
However,
If your goal is to learn and improve your art, and to recreate realistic proportions and anatomy from memory, tracing won't help you.
Developing your own style, your muscle memory, and personal technique will all be hindered by choosing to trace instead of drawing from observation, so I would encourage against it. Hell - even when tracing is employed as a technique, it's usually by high-skill realism & concept artists who are looking to either cut some corners, save time, or just double-check their own proportions in order to improve further - if you try tracing as a beginner, you will most definitely find the result to still look stiff and "off".
So trust me, there is so much more to be gained from drawing from observation. Make note of tangents, compare proportions, use all the elements of the picture to dictate where and how things should go - it will be a far more rewarding experience.
Hopefully this has been helpful! VaM is a really cheap program (you get it on the guys' patreon for I think 8 dollars, just google it!) and it's definitely been worth my money as an artist since I found it. Learning to use it can be a little intimidating at first glance, but as I said above you only really need a day plus one or two tutorials to get a hang of the interface.
A fair warning though, IT IS A SOFTWARE MADE FOR VIRTUAL SEX/ADULT ANIMATION So when looking it up expect to see a some spicy content.
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