#this is the perfect opportunity to do this request!

[lovemomhatepolice]

max verstappen nswf alphabet (part 1) (minors DNI!)

navigation taglist requests

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Max is very understanding after sex. He knows that many times you are very exhausted by your activities. He tries to give you as much warmth as he can and always listens to what you say to him so that each time is even better than the last. He really enjoys hugging you to himself and so does lying on top of you, knowing that you are next to him. B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) He likes his body and thinks he is appropriately athletic and tall. He has received many compliments in life because of this, so it has had a strong impact on his self-esteem. But he likes his arms best, especially after a workout, when his veins are strongly visible. In your case, he is a big fan of breasts. He loves to lie on them when he has a bad time. He loves to touch them when you make love. And he loves to look at them at every possible opportunity. C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Max isn't some cum fanatic, but he can't resist the sight of you nimbly swallowing whatever comes out of him after your perfect blowjob. Well normally he goes on his knees himself then (figuratively and not) D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) It may sound unprofessional, but when Max first saw you, he already knew exactly what he wanted your sex to look like. I know it sounds quite perverse - but you had exactly the same thing, and, to my horror, your visions were not at all different from each other E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) Max is already 27 years old, of course he is experienced. I would not exaggerate to say that he is very experienced, but he is. He's had partners before you, with whom he's been with longer and shorter, so he's already experienced a lot - that's why he's skilled with his tongue or hitting the right spot every damn time F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Doggy. Max knows what he wants and he's good at it. Taking you from behind gives him a lot of confidence and ability, so this is the best position for you. Oh, he still loves the way your back arches and has the ability to pull you close to kiss you. And you love it, because in this position Max can give you the most pleasure, especially when he's angry and emotional, and this is the easiest way for him to caress you G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) He is rather serious when you make love. Sex is not strictly physical for him, and he likes to give a lot of emotion to it, so he is not a fan of emotionless fucking. And as for being moody at such moments, yes, it happens to him, sometimes you laughed or joked, he's not against it, not one bit H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) I think Max is cut down to nothing there. He doesn't look like someone who likes himself in a thicket of hair, so he's perfectly coiffed there. As for you, he would probably also prefer it to be either to zero or with some I don't know, maybe a stripe through the middle? I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) He loves to whisper romantic words to you and tell you how good you are to him. He hasn't experienced much of this in his life, so he tries to be as warm to you as possible. And he loves taking you out for romantic dinners before that J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) This is a busy man. His stamina is not at all as high as it might seem, due to the fact that he is constantly living under stress and fighting for the championship. When you're not next to him and he doesn't have anyone to have sex with, he doesn't even think about masturbation, preferring to save it for the moment of your return, when you'll be next to each other and he can give it his all

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Max would like to be blindfooled. For once in his life, for it to be someone else who took control and he didn't know what was going on. Oh, until he shivers when he thinks about it. And then there's the realization that you would be the one making him feel good and guiding him to the end while he's blindfolded, how much he would give up for that…. L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Max is traditional. He's fed up enough with the media world and the hype surrounding his career that he most enjoys making love to you in bed, in your apartment. If it happens otherwise, of course, he doesn't complain, but he likes to be in your quiet surroundings.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) Very often he feels like having sex before the race. That's when he gets tugged by higher emotions and is just overstimulated to the point that all he wants is to be in your arms. Or when you're wearing your skimpy pyjamas, oh god. Max purposely bought you more pairs of one and the same pyjamas, just to see you in them every day.

A/N: part two will be here soon! (If anyone wants me to tag them - let me know in the comments)

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[girlw-amermaidtattoo]

How to Become the Best Service Sub Ever

Now that you understand the appeal, let’s get practical! Being a great service sub is more than just doing chores. It’s about anticipation, attitude, and efficiency. Ready to level up your service sub game? Here are 10 tips to make sure your dominant thinks you’re the best thing that ever happened to their household.

10 Tips for Being the Best Service Sub

1. Know Your Dominant’s Preferences

Don’t guess—learn what your dominant likes and doesn’t like. Whether it’s how they like their coffee or the perfect way to organize their bookshelf, knowing these details will make your service feel personal and attentive.

2. Be a Mind Reader (Sort Of)

Okay, you can’t actually read minds, but try to anticipate your dominant’s needs. If you notice the laundry is piling up or their favorite snack is running low, take action before they have to ask. Proactive service shows you’re paying attention.

3. Love What You Do

Service doesn’t have to be boring! Take pride in every task, no matter how small. Whether you’re folding towels or organizing the pantry, approach it with enthusiasm. The more effort you put in, the more rewarding it becomes.

4. Communicate Regularly

Check in with your dominant about their expectations. Ask if there’s anything you can improve or if there are specific tasks they’d like done differently. Clear communication will ensure you’re always on the right track.

5. Be Open to Feedback

Don’t take feedback as criticism—it’s a way to improve! If your dominant suggests a different way to do something, embrace it as a learning opportunity. A willingness to adapt is key to being an excellent service sub.

6. Keep a Schedule

Organize your tasks with a routine. Whether it’s daily chores or weekly duties, having a clear schedule will help you stay on top of things and ensure that nothing is missed. It also shows your dominant that you’re serious about your service.

7. Prioritize Their Comfort

A top-tier service sub is all about making life easier for their dominant. Does your dominant have a favorite way to relax after work? Prepare their space, set the mood, and make it perfect for them. Small acts of thoughtfulness go a long way.

8. Be Discreet but Efficient

Your role is to serve, not to be in the spotlight. Complete your tasks efficiently without drawing too much attention to yourself unless requested. Let your work speak for itself, and let the results shine.

9. Practice Self-Care

To be the best service sub, you need to take care of yourself too! Stay healthy, well-rested, and mentally sharp so you can be at your best when fulfilling your duties. A burnt-out sub isn’t as effective or happy.

10. Have Fun with It!

Remember, being a service sub should be fulfilling for you too. Find joy in knowing that your actions are making a difference. Add your personal touch to the tasks you perform, and most importantly, enjoy the dynamic!

Whether you’re a seasoned working sub or just considering the role, embracing the art of service can be an incredibly rewarding experience. It’s all about creating a harmonious, caring relationship with your dominant, where both parties feel respected, satisfied, and fulfilled. Now go out there, take pride in your tasks, and get ready to be the best service sub ever!

[little-pup-pip]

can I get a welcome home Wally darling themed stimbored with pacifier and masc themed things too please

Kinda!!

[loveryss]

🌼 sim requests are open 🐣

I have a busy life and lots to do but I like making random sims every now and then so I figured why not open sim requests 😁 please note that each request will be placed on a queue from which I'll work on them in order whenever I have the time and the motivation. This means that a sim request might take a while to be done but I'll always try to get them done asap!

IMPORTANT INFO:

Send an ask to request a sim (on or off anon)

Please include some kind of a description of the sim you'd like. This can be (for example) a general vibe or the sim's personality. Be as descriptive as you like! Do mention their sexuality and pronouns though please!

I have all EPs, GPs, SPs, and kits, and might use items from more than one of them. Please tell me if you don't want items included from a specific pack/packs.

My style is quite maxis match and I don't use an extensive amount of cc. You can look at my gameplay / cc posts to view my general sims style. Let me know if you want the sim to be completely cc free!

By default I'll give the sim only one everyday outfit; let me know if you'd like me to include other outfit categories as well!

All sims will be publicly available for download, unless otherwise requested (anon requests will always be public downloads).

✨ Requests are open unless otherwise stated in my bio! ✨

[seas-of-silver]

"Okay, have a look around."

Thanks, anon! And because your quote didn't have any characters attached to it, I really got to play with this idea, which was a lot of fun! Thanks for sending it in! I hope you like it!

~/~

'Okay, have a look around.'

Harry opened the doors to the Great Hall for the students in front of him, and watched as their eyes widened in awe. Walls and floor of stone were hidden by green rolling hills, a small forest, waterfalls and ragged cliffs.

'Today's combined class is all about focusing on your environment,' Harry announced, leading the gaggle of stunned students into the room, the occasional student having to be herded back to the group by one of the other professors to stop them from wandering off too early. 'Us professors decided that while the classroom environment is all well and good, sometimes seeing and experiencing things in a more practical way helps us remember lessons better.'

He paused, letting the students take in everything, before regaining their attention.

'Now,' he continued, 'there will be multiple components to today's lesson, and each of your professors will explain what you all need to look out for each subject: I, of course, will discuss Defence Against the Dark Arts; Professor Granger-'

He was cut off by a sudden burst of excited giggles from the students as they looked between him and Hermione conspiratorially. The Hogwarts rumour mill was alive and well with whispers of a secret romance between him and his fellow teacher, his best friend, Hermione Jean Granger. For once, the rumours were right, but neither of them were going to confirm anything, taking amusement in the students' lack of subtlety as they tried to get them to confirm the rumours; some of them were very creative in their methods...and Hermione wasn't one to stifle creativity.

'Professor Granger,' he repeated, 'will cover Transfiguration; Professor Longbottom will talk about Herbology; and Professor Flitwick will explain Charms. And, to help us out later in the class, we have a special guest instructor.'

The children all gasped and started murmuring amongst themselves, and he let them speculate for a moment before gaining their attention once again.

'We are very lucky to have with us today... Auror Ronald Weasley,' said Harry, who fought the impulse to turn to where Ron was hiding under his invisibility charm in favour of watching the students' reaction as he revealed himself; they did not disappoint. Gasps, squeals and awe-struck exclamations filled the air, and Harry could practically feel Ron preen under the attention. Harry had never been one for the fame and the spotlight, but that didn't mean he wouldn't prevent Ron from having his moment to shine.

'Yes, it's very exciting to have Auror Weasley present,' Harry conceded with a chuckle, but we still have a class to learn from, so pay attention and grab out your notebooks.'

As the students all scrambled for their notebooks, Harry greeted Ron with a grin and stole a glance at the ring on Ron's finger. The war had a profound impact on everyone, including friend and classmate, Lavender Brown. Being on the verge of death awakened a more mature side of her, and her terrifying interaction with Fenrir Greyback drove her to go on a deep dive investigation into werewolves after her extensive recovery at St. Mungo's. Her investigation led her to requesting information from the Auror department, where she reunited with Ron. They worked together for months, and their relationship rekindled and bloomed over time, leading to their marriage last month. Harry had never seen Ron happier than he was that day.

'Starting with Defence,' Harry began, once all the students were ready, 'I want you guys to observe the terrain and think about: how it can be used to your advantage in a fight; what are the pros and cons to each environment; what creatures might inhabit these environments; what spells would work best for you in each environment; and what non-magical skills or actions could be beneficial in each environment.'

Harry waited patiently for them all to write down his instructions before he passed it over to Hermione. He couldn't help but watch how she lit up as she gave her brief to the students. Over the years he had known her, he had come to love how she would become delightfully animated when she learned something new, how she puffed up with giddy pride when she got the chance to share the knowledge she possessed to others, how her eyes would sparkle when someone asked her a tough question, and how moved she would get when a student grew under her tutelage. She had really grown into a most wonderful woman, and Harry was helpless to do anything other than admire her.

'So, when are you going to pop the question?' Ron muttered from beside him. Harry elbowed him.

'Don't let the kids hear you,' he murmured in response, keeping a keen eye out for any distracted students that may have overheard that damning comment. 'If they hear it, I'll never hear the end of it - many of them would probably volunteer to help plan it out.'

'I don't see what the issue is,' Neville teased, eyes glinting with mischief behind an innocent facade. 'I thought you wanted your proposal to Hermione to be a big flashy event.'

'Betrayal,' Harry hissed, mock glaring at his friend, causing Ron and Neville to snicker at his reaction.

'Leave Harry be,' Filius lightly admonished, before smirking. 'Oh Harry, I thought I'd let you know that Irma has granted you and Hermione access to the library after hours on Saturday, but asks you kindly keep any candles and rose petals away from the books.'

Harry grimaced at the way Ron and Neville got boisterous, cheering and slapping his back good-naturedly, but had to stifle his grin when his friends froze at the impeccable glare Hermione sent them for disrupting her, just like the old days. He could still sense her curiosity about what caused the reaction, but her curiosity would have to wait for three days more, and once she knew, he hoped she’d answer with “yes”.

~/~

Ask game: Give me the first sentence and I'll write a short piece for it!

[not-with-you-but-of-you]

Hey, I hope it’s ok if I do some gif requests? Could you do a gifset of the Jess/Kirk scene at the diner in 3x13? And one of 6x8 where Rory and Jess were both rambling and then the whole : “are you nervous” “a little it’s been a long time” “I’m a little nervous too” etc thing?

I always appreciate all of your gifs and hard work🥰🥰

Hi!! It’s more than okay, I love doing requests :) and those are great choices!

Thank you so much, lovely 🥰❤️

[gojosprettyprincess]

Jujutsu Kaisen Men + How they'd moan w/audios.

Tw - dirty talk, assplay in Suguru's, daddy kink in Nanami's, (Got a bit carried away in the geto one haha) also not proofread cause I got tired.

A/n this was requested so tysm to the person that requested it but a part of it is kinda a repost because I've already done something similar before but I hope you guys like it! Gojo, Geto, Toji, Choso, Nanami

Gojo Satoru

This is how Gojo sounds when he's close. (Ik this because he fucked me before so you can trust me on this)

He's very loud when he fucks you and he'd also whisper a lot of nasty shit to your ears while he's rutting his hips inside you, fucking you deeper into the bed while he has your legs over his shoulders, hissing and groaning at the way your tight cunt sucks him in so well, while your sinking your freshly manicured nails that he paid for into his back, decorating it with angry red marks and when he's close he'd be panting and breathing heavily on top of you, beads of sweat dripping from his forehead onto you from how much he's been fucking you.

"Fuckfuckfuck gonna fill you up so good baby, m'gonna stuff you so full of my cum, bet you'll like that yeah?".

Geto Suguru

This is how Suguru sounds while you're riding him in cowgirl position, he has a clear view of the way his cock slides into your soaked cunt every time you bounced on it, he just can't take his eyes off of it, the way your cunt would swallow his cock in and the way your ass jiggles every time you moved your hips, it was so hot. One thing that really caught his eye though was the way your asshole looked so neglected and desperate to be filled, he thought this would be the perfect opportunity to try something.

he spat on his right thumb, making sure to gets his spit all over it to use as lube before circling it around your hole, spreading his spit all around it then sinking his thumb slowly into the tight rim. He hisses as he felt how tight your ass was, clammed around his finger. He noticed how you started slowing down, and how your moans got so much louder, he lands a sharp slap on your ass. "Fuckkk sweetheart k-keep going, Fuck yeah, keep bouncing on my cock, yesss that's it, don't worry princess I'll make you feel s'good". He groans, feeling your cunt fluttering and cleaching around his cock.

He starts thumbing your ass, fucking his finger in and out of you matching your rhythm. "Holy fuck need you to cum, Be a good girl and cum f'me yeah?". He hisses, feeling you thrusting your hips faster and faster onto him, your brain gets all fuzzy and blank it was too much, both of your holes were getting stuffed and penetrated. You start feeling yourself getting closer and closer as you bounced yourself on top of him. "F-fuck sugu gonna cum, M'gonna cum!" you cried out. "Go ahead, cream on my cock baby you can do it fuckk", and that's all you needed to hear before you came undone, creaming all over his cock, rings of your nut appearing at the base of his cock, his thumb still buried in your ass to the hilt. He lets out a loud groan, looking at how your creamy cunt covered in cum. "Good fucking girl, see the mess you made on my cock baby?".

Toji Fushiguro

This is how he sounds when he's close, he doesn't really make that much noise while he's fucking you, maybe you'd earn a few groans and grunts once in a while because of your cunt but most of the time it's just dirty talk.

But when he's close, he gets so much louder and faster, he picks up his pace, hammering into you harder from behind while your face is buried into the pillow beneath you and landing harsh slaps onto the soft flesh of your ass while looking down to watch it jiggle everytime he thrust his hips against you. the sound of his cum filled balls that's waiting to be emptied inside your little cunny, slapping against your clit filling the room with each thrust along with your muffled moans. Your cunt was clamping around him like crazy because one thing about Toji, he always fucks you so good every damn time.

"Holy fucking shit, tight little cunt milking my cock so well, you gonna give me another kid baby or what?".

Choso Kamo

This is how he'd moan while you're on your knees sucking his cock and he's getting close; he'd be whimpering and moaning loudly while saying stuff like "pleasepleaseplease m'so close don't stop please" with tears prickling from his eyes while he's looking down at you. He begs you alot and he's also really sensitive so that makes him moan and whimper even more.

Nanami Kento

This is how he sounds when he's ramming his cock up into your poor messy cunny in his work office, purposely molding your tight hole into the shape of his thick girth as his large beefy hands gripping onto the back your thighs to hold your legs up into a full nelson-type positon but the difference is that he's sitting down and your back is leaning against his board chest.

His thrusts was hard and fast as he continues feeding your greedy tight cunt with his fat cock, loud pants and groans escaping his lips at the way your cunt tightens around his cock while he stretches you out. "Hah- oh fuckk such a good little slut, taking daddy's cock so well, s'good f'me baby". His deep and husky voice made you throbbing around his cock while he ruins you.

[afternines]

.

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

[ryemiffie]

I love imagining the scenario where one of Bruce's kids is getting married but no one knows Bruce's identity and it creates shenanigans. Like for example, Dick is marrying Starfire and she doesn't know Bruce's identity.

And they of course want Bruce at the wedding since he's Dick's dad, but they also want a hero as security due to the nature of the wedding, not only as a wedding between two heroes but also a Wayne wedding (not to mention holding a wedding like that in gotham is never easy) which is a pretty big deal in both respects and garners a lot of attention to be the perfect opportunity for a villian attack. So Starfire and Dick decide to request a justice league member there as security. Some heroes are eliminated due to them already being meant to attend as guests who are meant to be able to enjoy the wedding and some already have missions that need their attention, like Wonder Woman, Aquaman, and the Martian Manhunter are busy off-world, Shazam and HawkGirl are busy with a villian who's been on the run, and Superman is supposed to be doing press for the wedding as Clark, so they decide to give the task to Batman seeing as he's more than qualified and is already accustomed to the area (gotham), he can't figure out a way to decline the mission without risking his identity being leaked since he really has no reason to not be able to do it, except of course saying he has civilian business, on the day of the wedding, at the exact time of the wedding.. yeah hell no, Batman is way to paranoid to say something like that! So he agrees to do security as Batman for the wedding while also agreeing to attend the wedding as Bruce, ya' know, so people don't suspect anything about his identity due to the situation.

And before you ask yes Dick has realised the situation but no he is not helping Bruce out of it because its fucking funny to him, and none of the other batkids agree to where the suit for the day since they're also guests and they also find the situation funny as hell. So cue Bruce trying to constantly switch between making appearances as Bruce and doing security as Batman, like the classic sitcom episode where the person has to constantly switch between one date to the next, but it's Batman just trying to enjoy his kid's wedding.

[borathae]

The Consequences of Fucking Up

“Your break up was messy and painful. All you want to do is to forget about him. His friends, who ever since you ended it with Yoongi see you as their bullying target, make sure that the memory of him stays fresh in your mind however, haunting you day by fucking day. While Yoongi makes it seem as if he gives no fuck about your situation. Until one night he is in front of your door. Drunk and fucking regretful.”

♥️ Requested by anonie ♥️

Pairing: Gangster!Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: Exes!AU, Messy Break-Up!AU, Crime!AU, Cop!AU, Hurt and Comfort, Angst, Smut, a lil bit of Fluff

Wordcount: 15.9k

Warnings: lowkey they're bad for each other, but also somehow so right?, OC is such a people hater, I feel like she has mental health issues which are never addressed tbfh, she is quite the pessimist, unhealthy consumption of alcohol, smoking of cigarettes & weed (listen. i hate smoking and stand by that but it sadly fits their characters), Yoongi is kinda apathetic and cold, or is he??, IS HE???, implied violence and murder, corrupt cops & lawyers, policeman!Jungkook makes an appearance and he stole my heart tbfh :(, he is so cute that i almost sobbed, drugdealer!Hoseok makes an appearance too, there is also detective!Namjoon and smuggler!Taehyung because I love this vibe :); abuse of power, fuck Yoongi just fuck he is so ngngn, slightly protective & possessive!Yoongi, intoxicated sex, desperate!Yoongi, no foreplay, but she is not uncomfortable, choking (m.receiving), rough desperate sex, position change from sex against a sofa to missionary on said sofa, a lil bit of strength kink hihi, he cums too soon, dirty talk, tears :'), he is actually so emotional during the sex, the ending is so cheesy and cute <3, Spoiler: he is willing to change!! and he is a cutie actually, jsjsjsj sorry but i love yoongi a lot :(

Disclaimer: This is purely fiction and isn't like my usual stories. It does not portray how the boys actually are and it is not how I see them. This is a work of fiction with no correlation to real life. The type of relationships depicted in this story are far from how I normally portray my relationships and I do not advertise for such relationhips or staying in such relationships. This story is supposed to be twisted and dark & so are the relationships in it, as well as the characters. You have been warned. If you decide to continue reading, then it is out of your own free will.

a/n: now that the disclaimer is out of the way i can officially bark because woof woof fuckkcc anonie thank you so much for this idea. i had the worst and best time writing this story like nfnfnf her mental state was definitely very difficult to write, but their tension just got to me. i made the ending as cute and fluffy as possible just as you wanted hihi <3 also i love villian characters who would set the whole world on fire just to prove their dedication :) i hope this is what you imagined, because i kinda made it longer and with more plot than i planned to at first sjjsjs i couldn't be stopped jsjsj ALSO this is giving me the perfect opportunity to finally write a Kook request I got years ago ohoho

Yoongi collides with the wall, feeling the cold nuzzle of the gun press against his chin. He drops the keys and flowers he was carrying, lifting his hands in defeat.

“Careful, it’s just me”, he lulls.

“Get the fuck out of my house”, you spit, carrying murder in your eyes. 

Three months prior

“So you’re breaking up with me?” he asks, gawking at you with widened eyes. He looks more surprised than he does hurt. Probably because it hasn’t actually sunk in yet.

“I am.”

“No, you’re not.” He laughs because he never takes anything seriously.

“Yes. I am.”

“Too bad, I won’t act like it.”

“Yeah, you will.”

He laughs, “you’ve had better jokes, but I still admire the commitment.”

“You see. That’s the problem with you. Everything’s a fucking joke to you.”

He is smiling. It reaches his eyes.

“Your job, your men. Me. Everything’s a fucking joke to you. If you would have taken Sukuna’s thread seriously, Soojin would still be alive. If you didn’t fucking insult Miss Mei, you wouldn’t have lost twenty thousand in drugs and you wouldn’t have to fucking kiss asses like a beggar.”

His smile doesn’t reach his eyes anymore.

“If you would have put any kind of effort into me, I wouldn’t be leaving now. You take everything as a joke, while in reality you are the biggest joke here.”

His smile falls. You stood up and that actually scared him. 

“Wait baby, wait. Princess, we can talk about this”, he argues, closing the distance with his arms stretched open. “I’ll fix the issue with Miss Mei, I promise.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m done talking. Soojin died because of your recklessness.” 

Yoongi touches your hands. He holds them, clutches them. You have never felt such a touch from him before. As if he actually loved you. 

“What can I do? Tell me and I’ll do it”, he offers, caressing your knuckles. 

This is what you craved for months. Affection. Attention. You were always a passing thought to him. Something to fuck and possess. Something low maintenance like all his other shit. His current touch almost makes you want to stay because for the briefest moment, your breaking heart wants to believe that he finally changed. 

But you know better. He doesn’t take you seriously and if you stay, you will one day end up like Soojin. Metaphorically or not, you will end up dead because of him. 

“There is nothing you can do. Sorry.”

You slip out of his touch.

“Baby”, Yoongi follows you with panicked eyes, trying to touch you again.

“Goodbye, Min Yoongi.”

“Please don’t leave me.”

You close the door and run, finally letting the tears escape. 

You love him.

You always have and perhaps always will. 

You don’t want to leave, but know that staying will kill you. 

One week passes. You spent it holed up in your small, shitty apartment, crying your heart out. Yoongi was the best and worst thing that ever happened to you and you miss him. You hate that you miss him. Because he was way worse than he was good. 

He was never abusive. He was a violent man to anyone but you. You, he always touched with utmost care. At you, he never screamed. But he was still not good. He was cold and apathetic at times, then terribly affectionate at others, only to become cold again. And you couldn’t take it anymore. 

You wouldn’t have left your apartment today if your fridge hadn’t been empty. It wasn’t always empty, but sadly enough, groceries don’t magically appear. Not even for an outlaw such as yourself.

The city is busy. The smell of street food, smog and body odor poisons the air. The weather is hot these days and people started sweating more. You can’t stand people. You pull the mask tighter around your nose, hoping to shield the stench this way. 

You greet the clerk when you enter the shop, lowering your mask. It smells of grocery store in here. Fresh bread, produce and clean floors. It’s a welcome change to the rancid outside.

You spent fourty minutes in the shop and pay with cash. You never pay with card because it can be traced. Someone like you can’t risk being found. 

“See you”, you say your goodbyes and leave the store. You plan on coming back in three weeks. You can’t stand being outside often.

The door just about closed behind you and then someone jumps you. Three people to be more exact. Two hold your arms while one rips the bags out of your hands. 

“Let go! Hey, you fuckers!” you fight them off instantly, surprised at how easily it is to do. Way too easy. They let go of you as quickly as they grabbed you. At first you think that nothing happened, until you notice your grocery bags in one of the guys’ hands. They stole your stuff!

“You motherfuckers! Get back here! They’re mine!” 

They run away, flipping you off over their shoulders.

You sprint after them, but before you reach them, they jump onto a tuk tuk and drive off, finally showing you their faces. Those were some of Yoongi’s underlings.

“What the fuck?” You stumble back in disbelief. “Did they fucking steal my food? What the fuck’s happening?” 

It takes you a while before you finally come to the conclusion that you have to buy everything they stole a second time. And you do. And nobody jumps you. And you go home, make yourself shitty dinner and drink a bottle of soju all by yourself. It isn’t a good night. It’s a shit night. But then. All your nights have been shit for years.

You met Yoongi four years ago. It correlates with when your shit nights began. Okay, you are being unfair. The first two years with him were paradise and your nights were wonderful. You were an aspiring lawyer, while he was in the midst of getting a promotion to superintendent.  You supported each other’s dreams, motivated each other and celebrated when your goals were achieved. Then the truth spilled out. The man you knew to love turned out to be a lie. Why you never left, you do not know. He gave you the chance to leave, but you didn’t. You made yourself low maintenance to him and your nights became shit. He pretended to be a proper policeman by day while you pretended to be a proper lawyer and at night he became what he hunted by day while you tried to hide whatever evidence about him flooded into the offices. You hated it at first, then loved it, then lost your job because of it and became dependent on him and started to hate it again. Well, at least working for him. You liked everything else. Having to work in the system and seeing how corrupt even the most eligible politicians or CEOs truly are, made you realise that perhaps stealing from them isn’t as bad as it first sounded. You liked being on the dark side of the law because the bright side was just as twisted. You just simply started to hate that it means being close to Yoongi.

It took Soojin’s death to finally make you realise that staying with him will end in your death as well. And so you finally left.

You will start a new life, make up a new identity, move to a different country and forget about him. Maybe. Who knows. You haven’t decided yet.

A letter comes five days after the grocery store incident. It is stuffed into an unsealed envelope and clearly delivered by the person who wrote it. You open it, feeling shit instantly. Whoever wrote this letter is calling you the most hurtful of names, telling you personal stuff which truly hurts. You throw it away and go back inside, opening a bottle of soju. It wasn’t Yoongi’s handwriting, but somehow you still think that it is connected to him. You try not to let it get to you, but you still end up rotting away in your bed for the rest of the week only leaving it to piss, shit and eat. 

The next week your packages are missing. You never get them back. The culprit is never found. You curse the sky, knowing that it was fruitless. Yet again, you think that it was connected to him. To Yoongi, the man you wanted to forget, but who keeps haunting you day by day.

The city at night is a dangerous place. If you don’t know where to walk, you could find yourself in a rather messy situation. Especially as a woman. You are glad that most women are clever enough to stay at home once darkness greets the streets. Most women don’t know how to defend themselves though. Properly and without the law in mind. You killed before. Once. It was self defence. Yoongi took care of the body, you never found out what happened to it. He stayed with you the night it happened, even let you cry in his arms. He was gone the next day and never spoke of it again.

You clutch the big knife tightly in your bag, scanning the streets constantly. It isn’t far anymore until you are home. Hopefully the heavy rain clouds stay dry until you get there. You aren’t in the mood to get wet. Not tonight. You would have never left if you hadn’t ran out of fucking cigarettes. The kiosk was closed, so the journey was useless. Thunder announces that the clouds aren’t your friends. Mere seconds later, it starts pouring.

“Fucking shit, I hate this city.”

Rain in this city is always dirty and never really cold. You take it as a bad sign. Rain shouldn’t be warm. Not always, not constantly. Something’s wrong with this city. Something is rotting slowly until one day it will consume everything in its wake. You hope to have left before it can wake up.

The way home is too long for the amount of dirty rain it pours. You find refuge under a shop sign. There are no rooftops or canopies in sight and the only thing close to a safe place was the stupid restaurant sign. Authentic Asian Beef Noodles, it reads in bright red letters. The place is stuffed with people and the smell of beef broth mixes with the dirty scent of rain. You grind your teeth. What a shitty situation you find yourself in. You prefer being outside though. You know that once inside, the restaurant would be hot and stink of digested booze and body odor. You take getting wet over breathing in people’s air.

Except that you don’t really stay wet for long. The distinct sound of rain hitting an umbrella meets your ears. You look up. Black. You look to the side at the person holding it. Yoongi. Your stomach twists, your heart skips a beat. He is wearing a suit tonight. Black with a black tie. His hair is slicked back. He used makeup to  conceal the scar running all the way from his forehead over his eye and down half his cheek. This is his work outfit. His police chief outfit. Yes. He is a chief these days.

Your instincts tell you to leave without saying anything, but it’s been six weeks since the breakup and you still love him. You hate that you do, but can’t stop staring at his face. He has his brows raised in a nonchalant way as he inspects the heavy rain. He doesn’t grant you eye contact, but holds the umbrella in a way which lets you know that he came out here after seeing you. His left shoulder is getting wet, while you stay dry completely.

“What are you doing here?” you hear yourself ask him.

“Work dinner. I have to pay ‘cause I’m the boss and all that shit. They’re eating like greedy pigs”, he scoffs, “fucking assholes.”

“I see.”

“You?” 

“Buying smokes.”

He finally looks at you, studying from head to toe.

“The kiosk was closed”, you answer his question about your cigarettes’ whereabouts before he can ask it.

“I thought you quit.”

“Some things happened which made me start again.”

“Mhm”, he hums and takes out a packet of cigarettes from the inside of his suit jacket. He lights himself one and puts the packet away again, leaving you to stare at the smoke he blows out through his nose.

He isn’t actually serious, is he? It is like he is mocking you. It is already bad enough that he sends his stupid goons to terrorise you, now he is mocking you as well? You hate that you still love him.

You stay like this for a while. You staring at him while he holds the umbrella for you and smokes. You don’t know why you stay. You hate that you love him. You hate it so much.

Yoongi takes a long drag of the cigarette and exhales the smoke in an almost sigh-like breath. He lifts the cigarette, holding it closer to you.

“What?” you sound disbelieved, scandalised even.

He doesn’t say anything. He just shows you the cigarette as his eyes follow the endless rain. You hate that you love him. You hate it so much. But you still take the cigarette and put your lips right where he had his’ moments before. But you still smoke it as if it was the most normal thing to do. Because it once was. You and he shared many smokes in the past. It was once the most sensual, erotic thing to do between you and him. Barely clothed, intoxicated minds and high on the other, you often shared a joint as you got each other off. Fuck, it was always so fucking orgasmic to be with him that way.

“Wanna grab a bite?” he offers, pointing at the restaurant behind him, “one more mouth to feed isn’t gonna ruin me.”

You are hungry. You haven’t had a proper meal in weeks. Instant ramen, frozen food and snacks is all your body has to run on. You have no energy to cook and with how shitty you eat, it is a vicious cycle. Shitty food gives little energy, you already have low energy. The motivation to properly cook grows lower and lower each day. You dread the day you have only enough energy left to open a package of chips and eat it for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

“I’m not hungry.”

He glances at you. He knows that you are lying. Your eyes have greyed in starvation. He almost rips the cigarette out of your fingers and smokes it angrily, huffing out the smoke. 

“I’m offering”, he hisses.

“And I’m declining. I can take care of myself”, you throw back and rip the cigarette from his grasp to smoke it angrily. 

You may be starving, but you will be damned if you make yourself dependent on him again. You left him to finally prove to yourself that you can take care of yourself. You don’t need his help. Not anymore. 

You take another deep drag, then hand the cigarette to him. He smokes it, glaring at you. You know that your stubbornness angers him.

“Tell your men to stop pestering me”, you say into the tense silence. 

He looks over his shoulder at his police team. They are too drunk and caught in conversation to pay their boss any mind.

“They’re inside”, he says.

“You know I don’t mean them. Tell your other men to stop annoying me.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yes. You do.” It is your turn to smoke. “It all started when they stole my groceries, but it’s been getting childish. My packages keep getting stolen, my internet cuts off, I find letters in my mail. Letters saying awful things about me. It’s getting ridiculous. Tell your men to stop terrorising me.”

“Stolen packages?” He takes the cigarette from you, brushing his fingers against yours as he does. The touch feels like the sweetest poison on your skin. “This doesn’t sound like my problem to solve. Go to the police.”

“Are you serious?” 

He inhales, exhales the smoke into your face. You should be disgusted by it, but almost huff it in like an addict. Yoongi watches your lids lower and your chest raise in a greedy breath, finding it hard not to stare at your lips as he hands you the cigarette. You smoke it. His eyes are still on your lips, glued to the shape of them as his throat runs dry.

“Very serious”, he rasps.

“You are the police”, you throw back in disbelief, exhaling the smoke into his face that way.

“Mhm yeah, I guess I am.” He takes the cigarette, smoking it with half lidded eyes. He exhales, handing you the cigarette. “When are you going to come home again?” he asks, looking back at the rain.

You almost choke on the smoke, exhaling it in a cough. Yoongi glances at you from the corner of his eyes.

“Your farce is getting ridiculous”, he says coldly.

“My farce?”

This break up wasn’t the first break up you and he went through. You left many times before, always thinking that you were finally strong enough to forget him only to come crawling back again. You don’t blame him for doubting that this time will be different, but you still can’t stop yourself from getting angry.

“Did you even hear what I said?”

“I did. Go to the police. I have nothing to do with it.”

You drop the half-finished cigarette. It dies in the puddle on the ground.

“I was smoking this”, he says dryly, “besides, don’t litter.”

“Pick it up yourself if you care so much about these dirty ass streets”, you spit and turn to leave. You take getting wet over being with him any longer.

Yoongi watches you leave, shakes his head in disbelief and bends down to pick up the cigarette. He won’t run after you because you will come crawling back eventually. You always do.

“Sir?” 

He turns his head. One of his officers. He is young and with sparkles of big dreams in his eyes. Yoongi pities him. This city is going to chew him up until there is nothing left of him. He had the same dreams once and knows what the viper nest, which is the justice system, is going to do to him. 

“What do you want?” he asks him dryly, rolling the wet cigarette between his fingers.

“Who did you talk to right now?”

“Just someone important to me.”

“Shouldn’t we escort her home? It’s raining and there could be criminals on the streets. It’s too dangerous for a woman to be alone.”

“She’ll get home safely.”

“Are you sure, Sir? I stayed sober for cases like these. I could get the car right away.”

“You’re sober?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“But it’s a work dinner. You’ve been off work for hours.”

The young officer salutes, “I know, Sir but a policeman shouldn’t slack, Sir.”

Yoongi feels deep pity for the young man. He is so motivated, so proper and full of good spirit. Waking up is going to hurt like a bitch for him.

He pats him on the shoulder.

“You’re a good person, Jeon”, he says and swerves past him to get back inside. 

The young officer follows him with pride glimmering in his innocent eyes. Yes, waking up is going to hurt like a bitch for him. 

Yoongi wasn’t always living two lives. He was like his young officer once. Full of dreams and motivation. He dreamed of using his powers to do good, to help those who needed it most and then he woke up. He watched politicians and men in power ruin, rape and kill the powerless without ever getting punished for it. He felt helpless. If even someone in his position can’t change the world, then who will? His criminal work was honourable once. He slipped evidence money under the table to hand out to the powerless, he let proof disappear for people doing crimes out of desperation. One time he was supposed to put a starving mother behind bars because she stole diapers for her babies. Yoongi couldn’t do it and so he disobeyed the law for these kinds of people.

But then his criminal work became less about the powerless and more about him. Making money the illegal way was easy and it is fucking addicting. Especially when he could make sure that evidence about him never reached the higher ups. Yoongi fucking loved the sudden power he possessed and he was too blinded by it to see that he became exactly what drove him to criminality in the first place.

Yoongi tells his officer to check up on your place that night. The young officer rings the doorbell like he was told to do.

You open it, swaying from intoxication as you do. The stench of digested booze wafts off you. But you somehow seem to sober up when you see the police badges on his shirt.

“You’ve got the wrong person”, you tell him, trying to morph your face into an expression of sobriety.

“Don’t worry, Miss. I came here to check on you.”

“Check on me?”

“Yes, Miss.” He salutes you. “I have orders from my captain to make sure that you arrived home safely and that you received this”, he says with an innocent smile on his lips, presenting a plastic bag to you. 

Authentic Asian Beef Noodles, it reads in red letters and inside, three big takeout containers of food are waiting to be eaten. 

Everything clicks into place. This is one of Yoongi’s employees. Another young, hopeful spirit which will be crushed in the system. You pity the young officer. You had the same innocent sparkle in your eyes once.

Hesitantly, you accept the takeout food.

“Thanks”, you mumble.

“Any time, Miss.” He studies you for a moment. “Are you…are you okay, Miss?”

You bite back tears. His empathy is going to kill him one day. But it feels so good to receive. You haven’t been asked this question in so long.

You shake your head. He straightens up in worry. 

“Should I call help for you, Miss?”

You know what he indicates.

“Thank you, no. I’m just going through some shit. Sorry, I’m being sappy tonight.”

“You don’t have to go through it alone, Miss.”

“I know. I’m just… I’m seriously alright, I won’t do anything stupid. You don’t have to worry, officer.” 

“Yes, well I still see it as my duty to stay because you seem sad to me”, he says and tries to go inside your apartment. He still has a lot to learn. You know from his eyes that he has no bad intentions and that he truly wants to help, but you know how the city will treat such deeds. One day he will try to help the wrong person and end up with attempted sexual assault charges. And it will fucking destroy him because people like him only see the good in the world and can’t imagine that others would want to hurt people.

You stop him with a guiding hand on his chest.

“That isn’t necessary, really. My packages keep getting stolen and I guess it’s been annoying me.”

He pulls out a pen paper instantly, stepping closer to you without noticing, “your packages? Have you seen anyone suspicious? How many packages have gone missing? When did it start?”

“No, I… Thank you for your concern and the food, but I will get through the night safely.”

He steps back, cheeks reddened in embarrassment.

“Forgive me, I don’t know why I did that. My captain said that you were important to him and that I should make sure that you are well, so I wanted to do a good job at it.” He bows at you deeply. “Please forgive me, Miss.” 

“He said that?” you whisper.

He nods his head, “yes, Miss.”

“Oh. Uhm. ” You clear your throat. “Thank you, I, uhm, tell him that I’m good.” 

“I will, Miss. Here, my card. You can always call me when you need something” he hesitates, “or when you just need someone to talk to.” 

“Thank you. This is so kind.”

“You are never alone, Miss.”

“Thank you”, you say, bowing at him. He is so kind. God, you want to grab him and tell him to run before it’s too late.

He bows as well, “good night, Miss.”

“Good night.”

You watch him leave. He gives you one last look out of the police car and a kind wave, then drives off. 

You close the door with a curse. This just sobered you up. The young policeman’s kindness just sobered you up. You check his name on the card he handed you. Jeon Jungkook. Why someone like him? He never should have found his way into this field of work. 

You look at the takeout food next, feeling your stomach twist. You are important to Yoongi. Holy fuck.

It’s been eight weeks since you left him. You don’t feel better. The cigarette you shared was two weeks ago and yet you still feel as if it was sticking to your lungs. Each time you breathe out, you swear you can taste him. It almost suffocates you and keeps you from relaxing. So you leave your depressing place for a walk to the kiosk. You read somewhere that walks are good for one’s mental health. You can’t agree. Walks force you to be outside where people are loud and fucking stink.

The vendor must be fucking with you. The day is bright, but the kiosk is closed again. You bang your fist against the closed door, cursing loudly. You want your fucking smokes is that too much to ask? This city is fucking shit.

You’ll just call someone who will always help. You saved him as Jay. His real name is Hoseok. You don’t say his real name in public. He doesn’t say yours. Yoongi sometimes called him his best friend, but what is such a title out of the mouth of the most apathetic man you know? You were his girlfriend too and look at where this has gotten you, living as an outlaw in the shit and dirt of this city.

Like always, Hoseok lets the phone ring four times then he picks up.

“Flames are hot”, he says.

“And the arsonist works hard”, you answer him.

“Hyacinth, it’s good to hear your voice”, there is finally a smile in his voice now that you answered the code correctly.

“The same goes for you, Jay.”

“What’s up? I haven’t heard from you in ages.”

“Nothing much. I’m out of smokes.”

“The corner in twenty?”

“Yeah.”

You and he end the call at the same time. Twenty minutes later you meet. He wears black overalls and smudged eyeliner. He says it keeps the char easier to hide. Like always, he greets you with a quick hug.

“What do you got?” you ask him.

“Whatever you want.” He opens his bag. “I’ve got cigarettes, but something stronger too”, he says, scurrying around the contents of the bag with his fingers. He always has burn marks on them, but somehow they are never dirty.

“What do fifty bucks buy?”

“For you? Two packs of cigarettes and two joints. That’s a steal.”

“Fuck dude, you’re getting expensive.”

“Yeah well, a man’s gotta eat.”

“Fine, I’ll take it.”

You and he exchange goods. He makes small talk.

“But why are you here with me? Did Suga run out of goods?”

Suga is Yoongi’s codename in public. The sound of it almost brings bile into your throat. You did such a good job in forgetting him and now the memory of him is as fresh as a new day. At least you like to pretend that you are doing a good job at forgetting him. Your heart knows better though.

“We, uhm…”

Hoseok exhales sharply, “again?”

You nod your head.

“When?”

“More than two months ago.”

“Damn, that’s long.”

“Yeah, I’m serious about it.”

He cocks his brow up.

“I am”, you insist just a little snappishly.

“Alright”, he closes his bag, “I gotta go now.”

“Already?”

He looks around nervously. Almost as if he didn’t want to be seen with you.

“Yup. Use the stuff wisely, I won’t have new stuff for a while.”

“Seriously?”

He nods his head and salutes you nonchalantly.

“See you around.”

“See…you?”

He turns his back to you and walks off quickly, soon disappearing into the busy crowd. Is this your fate? Even the people closest to you avoid you now that you aren’t Yoongi’s anymore? Were you truly only worth something as his little thing? You ball your hands into fists, bending the joints this way. You have to leave this fucking place. There is actually nothing holding you here anymore.

That night the phone terror starts. Numbers keep calling you over and over and over again. You pick up the first time, only to have to listen to the most hurtful things another human has ever said to you. The voice wasn’t Yoongi’s, but you still blame him. Now that you aren’t his thing anymore, you became free food to whoever had been waiting to make your life a living hell. You turn off your phone after an hour and go to sleep with the help of Hoseok’s joints.

The doorbell wakes you the next morning. You consider not answering because it’s probably just one of his goons wanting to terrorise you. But whoever is ringing the doorbell is stubborn, forcing you out of your bedroom. You look through the door cam first.

That young officer. He is in full uniform.

You open the door hesitantly.

“Good morning”, he greets you with a wave and a smile.

“Good morning”, you murmur. Your mouth is as dry as a fucking desert. You are also so hungry that you could throw up in his face right now.

“How are you feeling, Miss?”

“Good.”

“That’s good to hear.” He says and shows you a package which he kept hidden behind his back all this time. He smiles brightly and proudly. “Tada!”

“What’s that?”

“I caught the package thief, Miss.”

“Are you serious?” you gasp and your eyes instinctively drift to the car you have noticed parked outside your unit for days. The door is opened and someone is sitting in the backseat. He looked cuffed to the seat. You glance at the young officer and the shiteating, proud grin he is sporting. He has been watching you? Did Yoongi tell him to?

“Wait. You’re actually serious.”

“Very serious. For you, Miss”, he says and shoves the package into your face.

“Uhm, uh. Thanks”, you accept it, putting it under your arm. “Have you been watching me?”

“Did you notice the car? Sorry, I thought that I was better hidden. I’m still new to all of this. But I caught the thief, heh.” He points at himself with his thumbs. “That’s my first real arrest.”

He manages to drag an honest smile to your lips. He is kind of adorable in a way.

“That’s cool. Thank you for taking care of it. Now I’ve got nothing to worry about anymore.”

He grins and nods his head, studying your features afterwards. He opens his mouth.

“Jeon are you there? Over”, his walkie talkie interrupts whatever he wanted to ask you. He takes it off his chest harness.

“I’m here, Kim Sir. Over.”

“Come to the precinct. We need reinforcements. Over.”

“Coming right away, Sir. I caught a thief right now, Sir. Over.”

A pause where the higher officer is definitely baffled by his confession.

“Good job, Jeon. Over.”

The young officer giggles before he speaks again, doing so as seriously as possible.

“Thank you, Kim Sir. I am taking the criminal to the precinct. Over.”

“Understood. Over.”

He puts the walkie talkie back on its harness and gives you a sorry smile.

“That was my boss. My other boss, not your friend who is the boss of this boss. Anyways. I have to go now, duty calls. Are you going to be okay, Miss?”

“I am. Thank you for your kindness.”

“Anytime, Miss. Uhm, have a good day”, he says and leaves with a wave of his hand. He waves again as he drives off. You retort it, staring at his car until it disappears behind a corner. You sigh deeply. He is so nice. Why someone like him? Why does this life always find people like him?

It’s been ten weeks since you left him. You read somewhere that walks are good for your mental health. You still can’t agree. Walks force you to be outside where people are still loud and still fucking stink. But it’s better than staying in your apartment. You’ve got new neighbours since Monday. They keep fucking like actual animals. They fucked when you left your place tonight. You were this close to kicking their door in and slaughtering them like pigs. You opted for a walk in the end.

You walk for a while then sit down by an empty bench next to the river. It is quiet. Nobody is really here. At least nobody important. A couple, how disgusting. A late night jogger, clearly a man. A homeless person, who uses another bench as their bed. You hate looking at homeless people because you feel helpless seeing them. You stopped being on the bright side of the law because of people like them. You thought that maybe if you stole from the corrupt men in power often enough, you would be able to help the ones who truly needed it. But you never managed to actually achieve anything. The homelessness in the city grows, while the pockets of the politicians become fatter and fatter in wealth. You fucking hate this city. It is rotten to the core.

“Look who we have here. If that isn’t our pretty little Hyacinth.”

You aren’t quick enough to get up to leave and then you already have two men throwing their arms over your shoulders while a third is grabbing the back of your head from behind. You try to reach for your knife but can’t. Their grip on you is too good.

“What are you doing here all alone?”

Their voices are familiar and one look at them confirms your suspicions. It’s them. The same three underlings who stole your groceries months ago.

“Leave me alone”, you tell them.

“Why should we? You are all alone. If the boss knew we’re leaving you alone, he’d grow angry.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Now, now don’t be like that. You’re just a girl and there are many dangerous men out there.”

You look to your side. One of them is licking their lips like a hungry animal.

“Yeah? And you’re being fucking inappropriate. Leave me alone”, you spit, shaking off their arms.

They let you. Just as they let you stand up and take your bag.

“Goodnight”, you tell them and leave. Quickly. You walk a good hundred feet until you finally dare to look over your shoulder only to realise in horror that they are following you. Quickly.

You can defend yourself. You know how to kill, but you also know when you are outnumbered. And three bigger men against a woman is sadly never going to end well for the woman. You hate this city and you hate this life. You know that their words were nothing but provocation. They know you aren’t with Yoongi anymore, that you aren’t under his protection anymore and that in some weird way, you sullied his honour. You also know how people who bring dishonour to the gangs of this city are punished. The men are murdered and the women, well, they are murdered too but not before being sullied themselves. You hate this city and you hate this life. This life which is going to fucking end for you soon.

You dare to look over your shoulder one more time. They are so close that you can see the hunger in their eyes. No. Nononononono. It can’t end like this. You were supposed to leave this city, start a new life, forget about Yoongi. You are not going to die here in this dirty, shitty park far away from your dream.

Thump.

You bounce back from the impact, letting out a blood curling scream. It was instinct. Just as it is instinct of the person you ran into to grasp you by your arms and pull you closer again.

“Let me go! Help! Help me!”

“Quiet”, the person hisses and shakes you. This voice sounded different. Familiar in an almost intimate way.

You dare to shift your eyes to them.

Yoongi.

“I, I, I”, you stutter, feeling delirious in both fear and shock. You grab his shirt, twisting it to get closer to him. The act is intimate and out-of-place but you are too frightened to think clearly. 

Yoongi brushes over the state of your glassy eyes to look over your shoulder. There are three men suddenly scurrying away, using the darkness to hide. He managed to get their faces.

He looks back at you. Your eyes meet. A little bit of clarity returns to you. What are you doing? Your fingers soften around his shirt. 

“I don’t…”

“Come on, we’re going home”, he say sternly and puts an arm around your waist, dragging you with him like this.

You follow him all the way to his car. You even let him sit you down on the passenger seat and you even stay seated when he rounds the car to get to the driver side. You think that you are in shock because you don’t protest when he starts the car, nor when he drives off. You simply stare outside with your knees turned to him because your body acts against your consciousness. The city passes you by in flashes of neon colours. His car smells like his cologne and leather. He has no music playing. 

Yoongi glances at your face. You have your head against the window, squeezing your hands between your thighs. The neon lights illuminate your features each time he passes by another light source. He can see that you are trying not to shake.

He takes a deep breath, shifting his eyes to the road. He has to grip the steering wheel, otherwise his hands would shake in anger.

“Should we get dinner?”

His voice rips you from whatever trance you were in. You sit up straight, looking at him. He is gripping the steering wheel to the point his knuckles pale. His long hair is hanging into his face tonight. A turquoise varsity jacket adorns him. His scar wasn’t hidden behind concealer. He wasn’t working his day job today. What was he doing at the park? Why was he there?

“Take me home”, you order him.

“I am.”

“No. Home. Not your place.”

“My place is your home”, he gets out through gritted teeth.

“No, it isn’t. Not anymore.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Did you see what they were doing to me?”

“No.”

You are lost for words for a moment. The tears come afterwards.

“Stop the car.”

Yoongi looks at you because your voice was shaking. He holds his breath at the sight of your tears.

“What?” he makes sure.

“Stop. The. Car. Now.”

He laughs and shakes his head.

You pull the knife out on him. He swerves to the side on instinct, fixing the mistake so vigorously, you and he shake in the small space. You don’t let it affect you, holding the knife against his skin.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he hisses.

“Stop the fucking car or I’ll kill us both”, you spit, holding the knife against his throat.

“Fuck”, he growls and hits the steering wheel. The car rolls to a stop.

“Get out”, you threaten.

“I am. Fuck.”

He follows your orders because you have his life at blade’s end. He still slams the door closed. You leave the car instantly.

“What the fuck were you thinking? You could have killed us both” he tries to scold you, but you silence him.

“I’m talking now”, you roar.

Yoongi closes his mouth because he has never heard you like this before.

“You are such an asshole! Each day I regret the moment I met you! You are the worst thing that ever happened to me!”

Yoongi gulps. 

“I had a life before you. I had dreams and ambitions and, and goals and…a chance. I could have had a good life. I was supposed to use my degree to help people but you ruined everything for me.”

He rounds the car in big steps, coming so close to you that you smell his breath. It smells like chewing gum. 

“You could have achieved something? What exactly did you achieve as a lawyer? Mhm, what did you achieve? This city is fucked.”

“Yes, because you fucked it!” you hit his chest. He doesn’t budge, but also doesn’t stop you. “You fucked it and you fucked me and I hate you for it!”

“Don’t blame me for your decisions. I gave you a chance to leave me back then. You were the one who stayed.”

You inch closer until your lips are almost touching. Yoongi exhales shakily, placing his hand on your hip. 

“And I will regret this decision till the day I die”, you whisper, breaking the closeness.

You slip out of his hold. He follows you in a small stumble and a trembling gasp. 

“I never want to see you again. Are we clear?” you hiss at him.

“Don’t be fucking ridiculous, you don’t want this”, he hisses back at you.

“You’re wrong, I don’t want you. I thought I still did, but I don’t. You don’t care about me, it’s finally so fucking obvious to me. You don’t fucking care.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“They are terrorising me, Yoongi!” You finally scream. “I wake up to people ringing my doorbell in the middle of the night, I have to keep my phone turned off because the phone calls don’t stop. I keep getting my stuff stolen and, and I thought I was going to be raped tonight! They are terrorising me and you called it not your problem!”

“No, you-”

“I’ve been living in constant fear, our friends don’t even look at me anymore, I haven’t eaten in days and I can’t-”, you stop yourself. He doesn’t even deserve your anger anymore. “-you know what? Fuck this and fuck you. I’m leaving.”

You turn your back to him and leave. 

He says your name and takes your hand. He pulls, tries to turn you to him. But you rip yourself free again.

“Don’t go”, he says.

You don’t listen.

“I’m ordering you to stay”, he sounds desperate, yelling your name, “I am ordering you!” 

He can yell as much as he wants to. You don’t listen to him anymore. The subway station isn’t far. You will make an exception and take it tonight. Even if you hate it. It stinks. Just like the rest of this shitty city.

You are going to leave. Once you are home, you are going to start packing and then you are going to leave. You will call V. You don’t know his real name, but he can change your identity as quickly as others change their socks. You will call V and tell him to have your passport ready the day after tomorrow. You will pay him with the money you have under your pillow and then leave for somewhere clean. Maybe somewhere with lots of mountains. You always heard that the air at these places is breathable.

You call V the same night. He tells you that two days is too short and to wait another week. So you wait. Your bags have been packed. You live out of them in your own place. You don’t leave it. You are scared. With how little Yoongi cared about your situation, you doubt that he told his men to stop. You are scared that if you left again, they would finally go through with what they couldn’t finish back then.

The doorbell rings during a rainy, dark night. You flinch awake to the point where you feel sick to the stomach. The lights are turned on instantly eventhough you know not to do that in such a situation. You can’t think clearly. You just want this to be over. All of it.

You run to the front door because you suddenly feared that it was unlocked. It isn’t, but you can watch someone push an envelope under your door. The shadow blocking the light outside leaves the moment the letter is inside your apartment.

You don’t want to open it at first, staring at it as if someone had planted a bomb in your apartment. Fuck it, if that is how you die then so be it, you think in the end and bend down to pick it up. It feels different in your fingers. Sophisticated. Intimate. The envelope is glued closed as if someone licked the glue stripe and the faint smell of well-known cologne lingers on the paper. You open it with shaky fingers.

A letter. It is heavy and folded once. You open it, gasping when three photographs fall out of it and onto the ground. You don’t know what is on them because they landed on their face side. So you read the letter first.

“It has always been mine as well.”

Written in black ink and a familiar handwriting. This is Yoongi’s writing.

With even shakier hands, you pick up the pictures. You feel sick for a moment, gawking at the cruel pictures with your hand thrown over your mouth. The three men who terrorised you. Their mutilated corpses look back at you. He tortured them to death.

You rip the door open, stumbling onto the balcony. You look down at what tripped you. Two bags of your favourite takeout food and a six pack of water. Both clearly fresh. So it was him. Yoongi must be here somewhere. You look into the distance. The night is loud and blurry in a thunderstorm. The streets are empty. The ghost of your past is gone again. You squint your eyes. A person.

“Yoongi!” you call out, unable to realise that you are smiling and waving your hand.

The person moves. Oh. It was just the shadow of a tree. For just a moment you had hoped that the dark shape was him waiting for you. It was just a tree…and you were happy that if could have been Yoongi. The realisation hurts.

“Fuck”, you press out, going back inside. The lump in your throat makes it hard to breathe. You stumble back to bed, halting for a moment when you pass your suitcases.

It has always been mine as well. His words repeat themselves in your head. All this time, you thought that he didn’t care. All this time, you thought that your terror left him cold. Your eyes drift over the empty takeout boxes from the noodle place. You still haven’t cleaned them up. He made sure that you were properly fed for days back then. A glance at the new stuff he got tonight. He is still making sure that you are. Your eyes drift over the package next. He made sure that they stopped getting stolen. You look at the pictures in your hands. He made sure that they would never hurt you again. All this time, you were so blinded by your own anger that you missed how he had always looked out for you. You missed his way of showing you that you were important to him.

It has always been his problem as well.

Something inside you breaks and you scream. You don’t know what you scream for, but you scream. It hurts so much. It hurts so much because you will still leave. He will hurt you again if you stay. All his efforts healed your heart and it hurts so much because you will still leave. You were meant to stay broken hearted. Leaving would have been so easy this way. Now it hurts like a bitch. But you can’t sway. You have to leave this place. It will chew up what little is left of you until you truly cease to exist.

V comes to your place the next day. He rings your doorbell. It wakes you from the uncomfortable sofa you fell asleep on last night. You groan as you sit up and you barely want to open your eyes as you stumble to the door.

You open it without checking the camera first.

“Took you long en- you?”

Jungkook, the young officer, greets you with a smile.

“I swear I’m not stalking you.”

You have a headache today, so it is difficult not to snap at him. He is also not the person you wanted in front of your door today.

“I’m starting to doubt that.”

He laughs, “it’s not that. I talked to my boss. Your friend, the boss of the other boss. Sorry, anyways. I need you to come to the precinct with me.”

“What? Why?”

“Okay so, this is actually so cool and I shouldn’t even be telling you this, but you’re my boss’ friend so I guess it’s okay”, he begins with sparkling eyes, “turns out that the package thief is actually a serial thief and you aren’t the first one he stole from. Isn’t that cool? It’s like in those movies. Those cool cop movies.”

“Really? He stole from more people?” You highly doubt that.

“Yeah”, he laughs as he answers you, nodding his head excitedly, “now we’re calling in everyone who he stole from so we can take their statements. My boss says that we can’t keep the thief locked up for long otherwise.”

You know that this wasn’t really how the law works. After all, you were once a lawyer who was fucking good at her job. Is Yoongi trying to drag you back to him? First he tries to change your mind by killing your bullies and now he is trying to do the final blow by abusing his power as police chief? You check the time. Couldn’t the young officer have come later? You could have had your passport already and be far, far away from this place.

“Can I just give it to you here?” you ask him.

“Mhm”, he tilts his head to the side, “no, I don’t think that it works like this. I’m sorry, Miss. The captain said that it’s important that all the victims come into the precinct.”

You have to give Yoongi that. He is real clever about it. That means however that you can’t escape this situation. Any more resistance from you would make you suspicious.

You give up with a sigh. “Can I just change into something different?”

“Of course, Miss.”

The young officer lets you sit in the passenger seat. He is so new at all of this. With such naivety he tells you his entire life story. That he was from the countryside and that his dream has always been to be a policeman in the city. That he studied hard for years and that he completed his enlistment with honour just so he could be a proper officer. He sounds so proud of himself that each second with him makes you hate his presence more and more. He is so fucking stupid and it angers you. Why would he throw away his life like that? Why someone like him?

You are led to one of the precinct’s interrogation rooms and are told to wait there. The table is decked with different foods.

“What’s all that?” you ask Jungkook.

“Breakfast, Miss.”

“Did your captain tell you to do that?”

“He said that wanted to make sure you get your breakfast because we called you in so early. The captain really cares for the citizens.”

You stifle a scoff. Sure he does.

“Mhm, I see.”

“Either way, it won’t take long”, the young officer bids his goodbyes and leaves you in the interrogation room.

His words were a lie. You wait and wait and wait, but nothing happens. There are no clocks in this godforsaken room, but you still know that it has to be hours. You didn’t want to eat the breakfast at first, glaring at the two-way mirror because in your mind, Yoongi was behind it, watching you and making sure that you ate. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction at first, but had to in the end. The body begins working against one’s will when it is starving and the breakfast looked way too good. You eat all of it, then glare at the mirror again. You are still left alone and more time passes. It is as if they are trying to wear you down, as if you were the criminal in this situation. Granted, you are a criminal, but only Yoongi knows that and right now you are a poor civilian having done nothing wrong. You know that it’s Yoongi’s doing. That he somehow wants to terrorise you.

So when the door finally opens and he walks into the room, you almost throw the empty bowl at his head.

“Forgive the wait, Miss but something came up”, he says nonchalantly, flicking through some papers.

His second in command Kim Namjoon and the young officer Jeon Jungkook are behind him, which is why he is putting up this act. You grind your teeth.

“I already started to wonder if I’m in danger here”, you say way too sweetly.

“That depends on how you are going to answer our questions”, he says and sits down on the chair in front of you.

Jungkook stays by the door while Kim Namjoon stands a little to your side.

You look around yourself. He is trying to intimidate you.

“What’s that supposed to mean? I thought that I’m here to give my statement because of my stolen packages.”

Yoongi glances up from the papers. This is the first time your eyes meet after your fight and he killed your bullies. If only the others in this room would know how much blood he has on his hands and to which length he is willing to go to protect you. There were times where you would have dragged him over the table and kissed him senseless, but not anymore. You are stronger than your urges, even if it hurts your heart. You can’t give in again. If you do, he will take you for granted again. You won’t be happy with him. You finally have to fucking understand that.

“You’re right. You are here because of that”, he says dryly.

“Good. It started on May sixteen. I came home at around seven ten and noticed that my packages were missing. Two were stolen back then, but in total he stole eight packages”, you say and proceed to tell him the exact dates with the time as well as what was stolen.  

“You seem to know how such hearings work”, he says after he wrote down what you said.

“I had a few hours to practice what I was going to say”, you say with a poisonous smile.

One Yoongi retorts with just as much poison and a deep hum.

“Apologies again.”

“Don’t worry, I know how hard the police works at keeping this honourable city safe.”

He tongues his cheek. You give him a victorious smirk. This cut. Good. He takes a deep breath and releases it through his nose, reaching into his suit pocket to pull out a cigarette. He gets as far as to put it to his lips and then Kim Namjoon already speaks up.

“Captain. Smoking is prohibited in this building.”

“Fuck”, Yoongi presses out and takes the cigarette between two fingers to tap it against the table instead.

“Smoking is bad for you either way”, you say.

He tongues his cheek again. You know that he wants to curse at you right now, but can’t. He has to put up a friendly act.

“I know, can’t shake the habit”, he says and studies your face, “so what now?”

“Sir?” Kim Namjoon is rightfully confused. Yoongi slipped up.

“I don’t know, I was never in such a place before. Do you still need to take my information?” you act oblivious.

“We already have everything.”

“Great. Then I can go?” you ask, fluttering your lashes innocently.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Sir?” “What? Why?”

Yoongi shifts in his chair until he manspreads like an idiot. He crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“What are you going to do now?” he asks you.

“Uhm…is this still part of my hearing?” you ask, glancing at Kim Namjoon.

“No of course not, Miss. Please, follow me.”

“Sit. Down.”

The room is silent for a moment. You glare at Yoongi while Namjoon and Jungkook gawk in complete confusion. Their captain acts out of character. There is no reason to keep the innocent lady here any longer. This isn’t like him at all. He has been fidgeting all day, barely drank his coffee, went for far too many smoke breaks and now this. The officers have no explanation for their captain’s sudden behaviour.

“What is the reason for this?” you ask him.

“Just safety precautions. We wouldn’t want our honest citizen to get into danger”, he says coldly, “now answer my question. What are your plans now, Miss?”

“I will go home.”

“Where is that home?”

“Sir, I don’t know if that is necessary.”

“Shut up, Kim.”

Namjoon gulps, exchanging a confused look with Jeon Jungkook. This is really not like their captain.

Yoongi straightens up and leans forward so he is closer to you.

“Where is that home, Miss?”

You lower your eyes in anger.

“I don’t know yet, I’m planning to leave this city.”

“What?” his voice shook as he spoke. His fingers close and break the cigarette that way. His eyes almost bore holes into yours from how deeply he stares into them.

“This city’s become too depressing for me. I plan on leaving it for good.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do. There is nothing holding me here anymore.”

“Yes, there is.”

“No, there really isn’t. I will leave.”

Bang!

You flinched back. Namjoon and Jungkook tense up as well.

Yoongi slammed his hand on the table, jumping to his feet.

“No the fuck you won’t!” he yells.

“Sir? What are you doing?!”

“Excuse me? It’s my right as an honest citizen to move”, you act oblivious as well.

“Keep her here”, he talks to Jungkook, pointing at him, “lock her up and keep her here.”

“Under what pretence, Sir?” the young officer asks with widened eyes.

“I, I, I don’t know. Refusal to, to, to cooperate or some shit like that”, Yoongi never stutters and he never paces, but he is currently doing both of those things.

“Sir…is…this legal?” Jungkook asks shyly.

Yoongi is by Jungkook’s side within a few steps, grabbing him by the collar.

“Do as you are told, Jeon! Unless you want to lose this job!” Yoongi growls, making Jungkook whimper with fear.

“Captain Min, you are stepping out of place”, Kim Namjoon speaks up, dragging him away from Jungkook, “and get off this poor officer’s neck. He is just doing his job.”

Yoongi whips around, now targeting his anger at Namjoon.

“If he was doing his fucking job, he would lock her up”, he hisses, pointing at you.

“I need you to step out for a moment, Captain”, Namjoon says and gestures Jungkook to open the door. The young officer obeys, holding it open as Namjoon shoves a protesting Yoongi out of the room. He closes the door again, muting the vivid fighting Yoongi was doing with Namjoon outside.

He meets your eyes, smiling awkwardly.

“Please forgive the Captain, Miss. He is very concerned about his citizens’ safety.” He is a terrible liar, but you don’t blame him. If you were in his situation, you would have no idea how to explain such a situation to a supposed innocent citizen either.

“Don’t worry. I, I’m just wondering if maybe I can finally leave? I’m sorry, this just really scared me and I just want to lie down at home now”, you act shaken up, looking at the young officer with pleading eyes. 

“Of course, Miss. Our honest apologies again, Miss. Please follow me”, he says and leads you out of the room.

Yoongi and Namjoon are still arguing, but stop when they see you come out. You lock eyes with Yoongi for the briefest of moments. 

He closes the distance and grabs your wrist, dragging you with him with such vigour that nobody truly gets time to act. Not even you know what was happening to you until you find yourself in his office with the door slammed shut. 

“What are you doing?” you gasp.

“Shut the fuck up, you’re not the one asking this question right now!”

“Yoongi, lower your voice. This isn’t the place for screams.”

He steps closer to you, pointing at your face in warning.

“I have every fucking right to scream right now and you know that”, he presses out through gritted teeth.

“Why? Because I finally don’t need you anymore?”

“You can’t move. What the fuck are you thinking?”

“I’m-”

‘I'm not done”, he interrupts you, “I killed them for you. I did it. Just for you. Because your safety matters to me. I care.” He hits his own chest. “I showed you that I care and you’re gonna leave?”

You hate that you love him, but not for the usual reasons. You hate it because it hurts. You are going to leave despite not wanting to. You love him, perhaps you always will but you are also going to leave. 

You nod your head.

Yoongi exhales shakily, taking a stumbling step back. He stares at you as if you were the ghost whose haunting hurts him the most. He huffs out air, rubs his hand over his mouth, then runs it through his hair and down the side of his neck.

“I’ll kill the thief”, he says in the end.

“What?” 

“I'll make it seem like suicide. He’ll look like a pisser who couldn’t take prison and killed himself.”

“Are you out of your mind? He’s just a thief.”

“Well, what more do you need?!” he screams

“Nothing! I don’t need anything from you!”

“Why not? I can give you whatever you want!”

“Look at you. Now that you finally realised, I’m actually serious about the breakup, you wanna act like you care.”

“I care”, his voice broke, but you are both too angry to acknowledge it, “i-i-if I knew that you- I just-” He breathes in, breathes out, rubs his mouth, then his neck. “It can’t end like this. It can’t.”

“It can. I’m done begging you for everything.”

Yoongi steps closer.

“I can-”

“Sir? What is the meaning of this?” 

Kim Namjoon and Jeon Jungkook are in the office. The rest of the precinct gawks at you and Yoongi through the doorway. The latter lifts his hands and steps back. His fingers are shaking. 

“The captain just voiced his worries for my move. Don’t worry about it, Kim Sir”, you lie and turn to leave, “may I finally leave?”

Namjoon tells Jungkook to handle it with a nod of his head. The young officer points at the open door.

“Please after you, Miss.”

Yoongi says your name. 

You look at him over your shoulder, despite knowing you shouldn’t. He takes a step closer, lifting his brows in pleading. Don’t give in. Don’t give in. Don’t give in. You ball your hands to fists and turn your back to him.

Yoongi tries your name again, hoping for another look. One which doesn’t come. 

“Come back”, he tries, but gets stopped by Namjoon.

You can hear them talk as you leave.

“What the fuck’s your issue, man? You’ve been weird all day and now you’re screaming at citizens?”

“Watch your tone.”

“Hyung, I’m not here as your colleague right now. I’m here as your friend.”

“She’s gonna leave, she can’t…”

Jungkook leads you away from the office before you can hear Yoongi’s full answer. 

“Are you crying, Miss??”

“Hm? Oh that, don’t mind them. It’s just…” Your heart is broken and you want to run back to Yoongi. “...forgive me, I’m just a little shaken from everything.”

“I’m sorry, Miss. The captain isn’t normally like this.”

“It’s alright. I know how Yoongi can be sometimes.”

“Yoongi?” Jungkook asks, glancing at the captain’s office. He wonders what kind of friends you and he are. Maybe Those kind of friends? Is that why you are important to the captain? 

“I mean…sorry, I don’t know why I said that. I just wish to go home now.”

“Of course, Miss.”

“Oh god, I don’t even have money for a bus ticket with me”, you murmur to yourself, looking for your wallet. This is all a scheme to get Jungkook to drive you home again. You are worried that if he didn’t, Yoongi would somehow get to you before you could reach the station.

“Don’t worry about it, Miss. As a policeman, it is my duty to make sure that you get home safely.”

“Really? I wouldn’t want to waste your time.”

“Of course, Miss.”

And so he takes you home and you hate yourself because of it. So it began. You were the first person who used his kindness to her advantage. You were the drop beginning the inevitable filling of the tank until one day it will swap over. And once that happens, it is almost impossible to stop the leak. Fuck, you are just as terrible as everyone else in this city.

But the young officer is oblivious to what you just did, driving you home with a kind smile on his face. He even walks you to your door and stays as you unlock it. Your neighbours are fucking again. He glances at their door, then awkwardly at you.

“Yeah, I’ve got new neighbours. You can’t go over there and flash your badge and tell them to shut up, can you?”

“Of course I can, Miss. Just one mom-”

“No stop, I was joking”, you stop him, studying him with exhausted eyes. You are so sorry. You are so fucking sorry.

“Ah, okay. Please forgive me, I always take everything way too seriously”, he says, scratching his own neck shyly. He furrows his brows. “What’s the matter, Miss?”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Of course, Miss.”

“Run.”

“What?”

“Run back to your hometown. Run and never look back.”

“Excuse me?” he laughs in confusion, furrowing his brows harder.

“You’re a good person, Jeon Jungkook. This city will fucking ruin you.”

“I…uh…” He laughs nervously. “I don’t seem to follow, Miss. Sorry.”

“You don’t need to get it, just listen to me. Please.”

“O…kay? I uhm…”

“Thank you for driving me home. I’ll think of you sometimes in my new home.”

“Miss, are you okay?”

“I am. You don’t need to worry about me anymore. Just promise me to run.”

“I promise?”

“Good. Be happy, Jeon Jungkook.”

“Miss, I-”

You close the door on him and lock it. You don’t expect him to knock or ring the bell. He is too proper to annoy you this way. You check the camera. He stares at the closed door for a few moments longer, looking confused. He lifts his hand to knock, hesitates and turns his back to the door instead, leaving down the steps to drive off. You know that you confused him, but you had to. Please let it be enough to save him.

V arrives later that day. He is stressed and clearly in a hurry.

“What’s wrong? You look like you need to be somewhere or like you need to shit. Do you need to shit?”

“What? No”, he sounds out of breath as well as annoyed, “I’m risking my ass being here. I’ve got your stuff. It’s the only thing except mine that I managed to save. Give me the money, quick.”

“Save?” you probe, giving him the money.

He stuffs it into his boxers hastily, looking over his shoulder again.

“My place got raided by cops. I was at the market getting food, then came back to five cop cars in front of my place. I barely escaped. If I didn’t always carry my stuff with me, I’d have been fucked.”

“What?!”

“Sorry, Hyacinth. Gotta leave the city for a while. I wish you all the best.”

“V, what the fuck?”

“Here’s to never seeing each other again, aye?” he jokes, laughing nervously. It’s a good thing he said. Never seeing each other again meant that you and he managed to escape safely.

“Wait. Where will you go?”

“I can’t tell you. You know I can’t.”

“Yeah, just…be careful.”

“You too.”

He leaves and you know that he will be successful. If there is one person who won’t ever be found it is V. 

You are in a trance for the rest of the day. Yoongi raided V’s place. He went as far as to betray his own people just to make sure that you wouldn’t leave. Carrying your new passport feels like a trophy, as much as it feels like a curse. Leaving this city won’t be as easy anymore now that he knows. You are so fucking stupid for telling him, but you didn’t want to miss out on his reaction when he found out. The small moment of satisfaction seems skippable now that you know how far he is willing to go to keep you close. And because V came as late as he did, your means of escape don’t drive anymore either. You have to wait for the earliest bus if you wanted to or not. Fuck, you did this to yourself. You stupid fucking woman. Look at you. You have this big, honourable degree and still manage to get yourself into shitty situations over and over again.

You go to sleep with a gun under your pillow. You won’t risk anything.

You don’t get a lot of sleep and then a noise wakes you. You heard it as clear as day. Someone unlocked your front door. He sent men to get you. Now he’s gone too far. You jump out of bed and grab your loaded gun, tiptoeing to a spot from where you could observe the apartment. You have to be strategic about it. First count the men, then calculate the fastest way to shoot them, then act. The door closes and locks again. Clever bastards, they want to make sure that you don’t flee. Oh, you are going to have a blast killing them. One last little thing to leave Yoongi before you abandon him.

The automatic lights turn on. Got you, assholes.

The first enters your vision.

“Hm?”

Yoongi. Clearly drunk, he is dragging his feet over the floor, using the wall as support. No one else follows him. So he came here alone. 

Overtaken by anger, you jump out of hiding and at him.

Yoongi collides with the wall, feeling the cold nuzzle of the gun press against his chin. He drops the keys and flowers he was carrying, lifting his hands in defeat.

“Careful, it’s just me”, he lulls.

“Get the fuck out of my house”, you spit, carrying murder in your eyes. 

“I can’t believe you’re still hiding your keys under the flower pot. Don’t make me so worried, anyone could enter.”

“I’m gonna count to three and if you haven’t disappeared by then, I’ll shoot.”

“Can we talk?”

“One.”

“I know I fucked up. I can’t stop thinking about you. Please, can we try again?”

“Two.”

“I promise I changed. You were right, I was a joke. But I wanna do better now.”

“Three.” “I’m sorry!”

Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut. His death never comes. He peels his eyes open again.

You are staring, panting heavily. Tears are in your eyes.

“I’m sorry”, he whispers.

This is the first time he is the one to say these words first. It feels so good, but you can’t give in again. You made up your mind to leave…didn’t you? You study the state of him. He is heavily intoxicated. He looks the way and reeks of it.

“You’re drunk.” 

He nods his head, furrowing his brows. He touches your elbows, caressing them softly. Such touch you only get when he is drunk.

“I drank because of you. What you said today. I just…don’t move away, please”, he begs, eyes filling with tears.

“So now you care? I wasn’t important to you when I was with you and now that I’m leaving, I’m suddenly important?”

“You’ve always been important.”

“No, I haven’t. You took me for granted.”

“I did and I’m sorry. I never should have taken you for granted. I’ll do better now, please just give me a chance to prove it to you.”

“If I give you a chance again, you’ll just abuse it and hurt me.”

“No, I won’t. Please, I just.” He cups your face, running his thumbs under your eyes as gently as possible. “We were right once. We were so good together. We were a team and, and we had dreams and we made each other happy. I want this back, I wanna try to get this back again please.”

“I just want to be happy, Yoongi”, you press out.

“I’ll make you happy, baby. Please, I-I’ll make you happy again.”

“No, you’re drunk and talking fucking shit.”

“I’ll leave this city if you want me to.”

You falter. He would give up what he built just for you?

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“I would. For you I would. I’d set this whole city on fire and leave with you as it burns to fucking ashes behind us, please.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Please”, he whispers and drops his forehead against yours, “please, I want to make you happy again.”

You hate that you love him. You hate that he made you addicted to him. This is so awfully him. He gives you enough affection that you get addicted to it then takes it away again. And once he feeds it to you again, you drink it up like an alcoholic. It is always the same. 

“No, you won’t. You’re drunk.”

“Please.”

“Leave my place.”

He presses himself off the wall and grabs the nuzzle of the gun, guiding it right between his brows.

“You have to kill me if you want me gone.”

You gulp. He forces your finger to the trigger. Your airways close up.

“Kill me. Fucking kill me. I can’t live without you anyways.”

You could end it. You’ve got everything. Your suitcases, your papers, the keys of his car he drunkenly drove like an asshole. You’ve got everything you need to escape this place. You could end it, finally make sure that you have no temptation to return. You could end him and your addiction with it. He’s got your finger on the trigger, it needs just one flex and it would be over. But you never wanted him dead. No matter how much you wished for him to be gone, you never wanted him dead. Because in some fucked up way, all you really wanted was for him to put more effort into you.

“No”, you whimper, shaking your head. 

He rips the gun from your fingers and drops it on your dresser. 

“I don’t want to kill you”, you press out, sobbing softly. 

He cradles your face, wiping your tears. 

“I know”, he gets out, nodding his head, “I know you don’t, princess. I know.”

“Yoongi”, you squeak out, twisting his shirt. 

“I’m here, princess. I’m here.”

He pulls you closer until his kiss is just one breath away, feeding on the shaky breath you let ghost against his lips. His drunken eyes gaze at your mouth, his heart is racing in his chest.

“Push me away”, he tells you.

“I hate you.”

“And I love you.”

“Yoongi”, you whimper, finally touching his chest instead of his shirt. 

He moans and pulls you into a kiss. A deep, hungry kiss. 

You pull at his hair to get him off of you as much as you pull him closer, fighting for air. You hate that you love…do you really? Do you really fucking hate it? Do you really hate it when his kiss makes you feel alive again? You spent months feeling out of breath and now it’s gone. You can breathe again. At least metaphorically, physically he’s got you very close to passing out. You push at him to get distance. Air. He lets you breathe, but not escape. He pushes you to your sofa until your legs collide with the back of it. Your shaky breaths intermingle, your shared moans follow. His right hand slides to your ass, his knee lifts to your middle. 

You gasp, grinding down on him. You can’t protest because he kisses you so deeply it feels as if he wanted to consume your soul. He kisses and gropes, kisses and gropes until air is sparse. He gasps.

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m fucked”, he gets out and pulls your head back so he could drag his tongue up your throat. 

It should disgust you, but it doesn’t. You moan, running your nails down his chest and arching your back. He lifts his head, looking at you with drunken, crazed obsession. His fingers just can’t stay still on your body. It is as if he wanted to touch everywhere at all times. The attention makes you short of breath.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You touch his cheek. He leans into your palm, closing his eyes when you trace his scar. You were with him when he got it. It was during a fight. He fought with his fists, his opponent chose the cowardly way and pulled a knife on him. He was lucky that he didn’t lose his eyesight. He hated it at first, but you made him feel handsome. You always looked out for him that way.

“Do you…do you think I’m handsome?” he asks. Such questions you only get when he’s drunk. 

“I do.”

His breath trembles as it leaves him. He drops his hand from your hips to take out his cock. He touches himself, gazing at you as if he needed the view of you to stay hard. And he does. He needs you. You are the only person who can turn him on.

You look at what his hand is doing, gulping heavily. He sighs, gazing at your face. You are as mesmerised by him as you were when everything was still good between you and him. His cock still has the same effect on you.

“Princess?” he tilts your head back up to meet your eyes, using only two fingers under your chin for it. 

You meet his eyes, heart racing unbearably.

“Yes?” One little lift of his brows and you give him the answer he craved. 

You part your legs, tilting your hips closer to him. You nod your head vigorously, gazing at his cock again.

He doesn’t bother to pull his pants down all the way, neither does he care about taking off your panties. He pushes them to the side and stuffs you full of him, gripping the edge of the couch and your right thigh as deep moans leave him. Your right leg is lifted like this, supported by him.

You gasp, tensing up. Your toes curl instantly, your fingers clutch his lower arms. His cock stretches you out and stuffs your walls. It’s not uncomfortable, but it is definitely intense. You gasp again, looking at him with widened eyes.

“I know baby, I know”, he breathes and bottoms out. “It’s been too long. Fuck.” 

He moves, chasing your warmth in drunk, sloppy thrusts. You writhe and gasp repeatedly, scratching the back of his neck. You want to hate that you love him. He should feel like an intruder. You should want to kick and scream for help. But you don’t want to. You feel whole again. No preparation, but he doesn’t hurt. His kiss and touch was enough. Your addiction to him runs so deep that his cock is pure heroin to you.

“Yoongi”, you get out, grabbing his throat. Your thumbs are on his Adam’s apple, threatening to press down.

He smiles, “I love you”, he gasps out and drops his head against yours. His long hair tickles your face, his drunken breath swirls over your skin. He gulps and moans under your fingers, pumping into you with no signs of slowing down. You start losing strength in your calf, standing like this is exhausting, but if you were being honest, you don’t want it to stop. 

“I hate you.”

“Fucking kill me then”, he rasps.

You close your fingers slightly.

“Harder. This isn’t gonna do it.”

“You first.”

“Fuck, baby”, he gets out and lifts you so he could round the sofa with you. He pins you down into the pillows, ripping the panties off of you and kicking his pants off. He pushes into you before you can truly realise what was happening, feeding you all of him until he can’t give any more. He twists the pillow next to your head as he takes on a punishing rhythm. His dark hair hangs into his face, his teeth are bared as he huffs like an angry animal.

“Yoon-”

“I know, baby I know. You already told me, baby. I know”, he whispers, wiping your cheek, “take me, I know you can. You’re my baby, you’re made for me.”

His praise is like medicine to you. This is all you needed. To know that he is still obsessed with you and that you still affect him. 

You close your legs around his hips, keeping him with you this way. You need him to always stay like this. He moans your name, slipping his fingers from your cheek to hold the pillow instead. You told him that you hated him, but your body betrays you. Your eyes betray you. You keep him close, gaze at him as if he was your everything. Yoongi’s head is turning. Not only from the alcohol, but also from being with you again. And from knowing that you still loved him.

Because he loves you so much. He hates himself for taking you for granted. He never should have. You are his everything. The fucking reason why he does all of this. The last three months were torture for him. He started smoking again, drank too much, slept too little, worked too many hours. And if he didn't distract himself with work, he tried thinking up ways of showing you that he was still there for you. He ordered his officers to look out for you, sent food deliveries to your place, parked in front of your place somewhere hidden to watch you smoke on the staircase. He also followed you sometimes after you confessed to him that some of his goons were terrorising you. And each time he followed you, he wished for you to notice him just so he could get a chance at talking to you again. But you never did and Yoongi thought that you will come back again soon. Then you told him that you would move and Yoongi finally broke. He was truly losing you. Three months of hell, of lonely nights and heartbreak and he was truly losing you. 

“I missed you”, he gets out, painting his name against your favourite spots. The eagerness with which you clasp him results in your hips to lift off the pillow, allowing your clit to grind against him each time he bottoms out. The necklaces he is wearing are tangling over your face. They were too long once, but Yoongi cut them to the perfect length so they wouldn't hit your face when you are underneath him. That was six months ago. During a time you thought he didn’t care anymore. You feel so stupid now. His way of showing you that he cared was always there. He was always looking out for you. You were just too blind to see. 

You gasp and whimper, mewl and keen, looking up at him with teary eyes and your fingers closing around nothing. You can’t tell him that you missed him too because you are too overwhelmed. 

“Did you miss me too?” but Yoongi is drunk tonight and when he is drunk he is needy for your affection. 

You nod your head. 

“Say it.”

“I missed you”, you get out, following it up with a sob. 

“Baby, I love you”, he croaks, wiping your tears before dropping his forehead against yours, “I love you, baby, I love you. Don’t leave me again, please.”

“You’re so drunk.”

“Yeah, drunk ‘cause of you. Thought I’ll lose you. Baby, I can’t lose you”, he croaks and shows you his honesty with passionate rolls of his hips. Somehow he goes even deeper than before, he hits your favourite spots even better. 

You arch your back and scream his name, throwing your head back as best as possible. This is electric. Holy shit, he makes you feel good. Your face scrunches up against your will, your feet shake on his back. 

Yoongi admires you with a pounding head and racing heart, repeating what he did before over and over and over again. You react in mewls and moans and screams and he can’t get enough of it. He wants for you to lose your fucking voice because you couldn’t stop screaming for him. Because if you sound like this for him, he makes you happy. It has been too long since you actually screamed this way, so Yoongi is especially affected by tonight.

He laces his fingers with yours – again, he is drunk – and squeezes them needily. He thinks that he is crying too. He watches pearls of something drip onto your face sometimes. His eyes also burn. He doesn’t want it to stop. He is willing to carry his emotions on his sleeve if it meant you were happy again.

“Is this what you needed? Does this finally make you fucking happy?” he gets out, chasing the ecstasy as much as he helps you with your own pleasure trip.

You squeeze his hands back, making him moan your name.

“Ye-yes.”

“Argh”, he growls, trying so much harder to fuck you right. It feels so good. He has to tell you. He stayed silent way too often in the past. You want his efforts and he wants to give them to you. “You feel so good.”

The first confession was hard because he isn’t used to sharing his feelings. It was hard, but it was also ecstatic because your sounds of pleasure became louder and you tightened around him, squeezing his hands happily. 

“You feel so good. You feel so fucking good. You feel so good, princess. You feel…so good”, he can’t stop now that he started, telling you over and over and over again how you make him feel. Good. So good. He feels so good when he is with you. “You are so good. Princess, fuck. I have to..I, I have to- ah!” 

You open your eyes in time with Yoongi collapsing on top of you. He whimpers into the crook of your neck, shaking almost pathetically.

There are two things you always believed to be true about Yoongi. First: When he fucks, his moans are always deep, raspy and growly. Second: He has perfect control over his orgasms. 

Both of these things are getting proven wrong to you right here and now as he whimpers and shakes and paints your walls with his unexpected orgasm. You want to blame the alcohol on it and maybe the months of abstinence, perhaps even the fear of losing you paired with the relief of having you again. Holy fuck, he actually loves you doesn’t he?

“I love you”,  he sobs, hugging you close. 

“Yoongi ah”, he breaks you with his confession and the tenderness with which he holds you. You swear that you can taste colours for a moment. You haven’t felt honestly good in your own skin in months. This right here is what feeling good is. This is it. 

You don’t know who comes down first. You think it is Yoongi, but even if he does, he doesn’t pull out. He lets you shake and throb and clench around him until your moment of peak pleasure is over as well. He holds you silently afterwards, catching his breath in the crook of your neck. He missed your scent like nothing else. Truly, it leaves him so drugged out that he actually finds himself drooling as he smiles like a giddy boy. 

You calm down with his weight atop your chest, his length still inside you and his hair between your fingers. It is still a little stiff and crusty from the variety of hair products he keeps in it during his day job. To think that mere hours ago, you were screaming at each other in his office. It feels so far away to you now. Like a memory of an unbelievable life.

You don’t hate that you love him. You really don’t. 

“How.” He clears his throat. “How are you feeling?”

“Good.”

“Are you sore? Does anything hurt?”

“No, but I’m leaking.”

“Fuck”, he laughs into your shoulder, nibbling on it gently, “sorry, I just…am drunk and missed you.”

“You were pathetic doing that.”

He laughs harder. You and he have a peculiar sense of humour. He knows that you meant it fondly. You laugh as well. He lifts his head at the sound of it, cupping your cheek. 

“If it means you’re laughing, I can live with being pathetic.”

Your heart flutters.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“Booze. Way too much booze.”

You laugh again. His eyes soften, he caresses your face. 

“Definitely too much booze, yeah”, you agree.

“Mhm, fuck.” He cuddles into your shoulder again. “I’m sleeping here.”

“And you think I’d let you?”

He nods his head.

“Fuck, you’re the worst.”

“Am I wrong?”

“No, you’re not.”

You wake up alone the next morning. It hurts. So nothing changed. He got what he wanted, made you addicted again only to leave. Like he always did. And you are left feeling dirty and used and fucking awful. 

You probably would have stayed in bed to cry the entire day if a very worrying noise hadn’t come from outside your door. Someone’s in your kitchen. You roll out of bed and leave the room. You don’t need weapons today. You are angry enough that you will probably be able to beat whoever is dumb enough to break in. 

You cross the corner and stop, lowering your fists.

Yoongi. 

He took a shower and tied all of his wet hair into a messy bun. He is shirtless, wearing a towel around his hips. Music is playing from his phone while on the stove, breakfast is sizzling. 

“You?”

He turns at the sound of your voice, face lighting up instantly. 

“Good morning, beautiful”, he says, closing the distance to take you into a hug. “Did you sleep well?”

You don’t answer him, you push at his chest so you could look at him. You can’t believe that he is still here and that he is making you breakfast.

“What’s the matter?” he asks. 

“Why the fuck are you still here?”

He furrows his brows, “why not?”

“I, I don’t know. I just, just. I thought that…huh? You didn’t leave?”

He frowns in regret for a moment, before leaning in to kiss your cheek. He gives your left buttock an almost playful squeeze afterwards, stepping back to return to the cooking.

“I’m making your favourite. I also cleaned. Your place was a shithole, honestly.”

Still flabbergasted beyond relief, you look around your small apartment. He didn’t just clean up the garbage and tidy, he fully wiped the place down. You check the clock next. It’s way past one at noon. You slept for more than twelve hours. Damn. You never even realised how much sleep these last three months took from you until you finally fell asleep in his arms again and actually stayed asleep. You feel refreshed and not uncomfortable in your own skin. 

Last, you look at Yoongi. He is humming to the music, switching between stirring the eggs in the pan and chopping up some pork belly. 

At first you don’t want to accept that this is actually happening to you, but then the desire to be close to him gets too grande to bear. You almost run to him, colliding with his back in a passionate hug. 

He stumbles and grunts, following it up with a fond chuckle and his big hands rubbing your lower arms. 

“Please don’t make me regret this again. Please.”

He turns in your arms, caressing your waist. He shakes his head, looking at you in ways he hasn’t looked at you in ages. As if he honestly loved you. 

“Can you promise me?”

“I promise you, baby”, he says in a soft voice and locks pinkies with you. 

The gesture is so cute and honest, that you have to stifle a giggle. Your heart hasn’t fluttered like this in ages.

“I have an idea. How about I’ll take next week off and we’re leaving this city for a while? Maybe the mountains? You’d like the air there”, he suggests. 

“Are you serious? Do you actually mean that?”

He nods his head. You and he began swaying to the music, looking at nothing else but the other. 

“But first I gotta sort out the mess I made when I busted V’s place”, he says.

“Yeah true.” You slap his chest. “Fuck you for that. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know, I know. I acted irrationally, I admit. But I’m gonna fix this. You know how easily I can make stuff disappear. He’ll be able to return again in a week or so.”

“I hope you’ll fix this, you idiot you.”

“Mhm, I will and then I’m taking you on a long vacation”, he says, kissing your forehead before hugging you against his chest.

You close your eyes, melting into his chest. 

“And when we’re there, I’m gonna make you breakfast and make you cum and make you smile. Yeah?” he whispers.

“Yeah”, you snicker.

He smells like your shower gel today, but you don’t mind. He hasn’t shown such an actual desire to change in months and it feels so good to receive. You love that you love him. You really do. 

“I love you, Yoongi”, you whisper, feeling him squeeze you for just a moment as your confession overwhelms him. 

“I love you too, princess”, he tells you and he is sober for it because he swore to himself that he won’t need alcohol anymore to be able to show you his affection. 

He is willing to better himself, he truly is and a week later, you and he are in his car on your way to a long vacation in the mountains.

[mrsbarnesblog]

my girl

masterlist

requests are open

summary: even if you knew that you and Rafe were just hooking up, hearing his friend's comments about you, while you were preparing a venue for the event, hurt more than you expected it to

word count: 2k.

warnings: fwb (or smth like that) to lovers, mentions of sex but nothing explicit, Rafe's friends lol, swearing

a/n: soft Rafe is my weakness, I'm sorry. he's on my mind 24/7 and I literally don't know what to write

You were running around the outdoor venue with boxes full of pastry, where in a few hours there was going to be an annual celebration with lots of rich people. For some reason, Ward Cameron, who was paying for everything here, decided that your father’s small bakery was good enough to feed all of the kooks, so from the afternoon on, you were organizing tables to make everything look perfect. 

The place itself looked truly magical—decorated with a lot of flower arrangements, lights and expensive furniture. It was located at Figure 8, so you obviously never had the opportunity to visit it before. It was Kook’s territory, and even with your family’s bakery, which was pretty popular on the island, you were not welcome here.

Just a few minutes ago, Ward himself came to the venue with Rafe and his son’s best friends in order to check how everything was going. 

As soon as your eyes met Rafe’s, you both stopped for a few seconds, too shocked to see each other in a public place. What happened between you and Kook's prince was something that you had never expected to get into, yet here you were. 

You didn’t know what got into you that one night, but out of nowhere, Rafe was talking to you, smiling, looking all sexy and without his usual cockiness, so you couldn’t resist him. 

It wasn’t that you even regretted your decision; it just became more weird every single time you met because he wasn’t bad. Rafe Cameron wasn’t an asshole, which everyone made him seem to be. He was affectionate and surprisingly soft, always checking on you while you two were together and never pressuring you to leave. You wholeheartedly had to admit that it became more than just sex after a few weeks, no matter how hard you tried to deny it. 

You were definitely not dating, mostly because he had never asked you to, but you two were always texting about random stuff, he would even pick you up to hang out at his secret spot on the beach, or just to simply sit in his truck with lots of food and talk. Part of you hated it, but Rafe made you feel so comfortable and safe around him so you were scared to push it and ask him what was happening between you. 

Rafe’s eyes stayed fixated on you as his father, Kelce and Topper stood near him, looking around the venue and chatting. But he could not care less about it because his entire attention was drawn to you and how adorable you looked in your pink tennis skirt and simple white polo with the bakery's logo on it. 

He may or may not be responsible for Ward’s choice of bakery to work with, because Rafe made sure to accidentally mention it a few times, knowing that it would be a good profit for your family. Yet, seeing you here slightly took him off guard, as the first thought that appeared in his head was to go up to you, flirt and make you blush, or just simply kiss you. But he couldn’t, right? At least not until he properly talked to you. 

“Damn, she’s hot, even for a pogue. No wonder you hit it a few times, bro. I'd do it too.” The moment words left Topper’s mouth, Rafe’s heart dropped into his stomach. Kelce snickered, fistbumping Topper, and Rafe cursed himself for running his mouth. He really considered drowning his friends in the nearest lake. 

“Shut your fucking mouth.” Rafe seethed through gritted teeth, elbowing his friend. 

“I would appreciate you both watching your language.” Ward sighed, wincing and rubbing a hand on his beard. He looked at Rafe, who completely ignored his questioning gaze while trying to figure out how to fix it. 

Even with you standing with your back facing them, Rafe saw that you heard it too. Your hand froze in the air, still holding a cupcake, and your shoulders sagged in disappointment and hurt.

Only a few seconds later, you came back to your senses. Your back straightened, you finished decorating the table and you put empty boxes in the trash can. You turned around, showing the fakest smile Rafe had ever seen on your face. Your nails digged in your palm to control yourself, and you stepped closer to the four of them. 

“Mr. Cameron, thank you for working with our bakery. It really means a lot for my family. I did everything and now the event manager should carry on. I, um, should go. I have a lot of stuff to do. Have a great night.” Your eyes were glossy, with tears clearly visible on your waterline. As you awkwardly and in a rush thanked Ward, you didn’t even look at Rafe or either of his friends, knowing damn well that it would break you. 

You didn’t even wait for Ward’s response before storming off, trying to get as far away from these people as possible. Your chest felt too heavy, and the lump in your throat was so hard that you could barely speak. But you didn’t even walk a few feet away before a familiar hand wrapped around your wrist and made you turn around. 

“What do you want from me?” You snapped at Rafe, trying to yank your hand out of his grip. “Don’t touch me, Rafe.”

“This is not what you think it is.” He said, searching for your eyes. His brows were knit together, and his eyes were big and round, almost in fear. 

“Oh no? Isn’t it what I am to you? Just a hit. Just another one on your long list. Why are you bothering to explain anything to me anyway?” You laughed, barely able to hold back your tears. As if it were not enough that you cried in front of Rafe, neither his friends nor his father seemed to mind their own business, obviously listening to your conversation. 

“No. You know that it was more for me, Y/N. I’m serious about you, okay? Topper just cannot filter his fucking mouth.” 

“Stop doing it, Rafe!” You broke, not bothering to hide anymore. “Stop playing with my feelings when you know damn well that you won’t have anything serious with me. I’m not rich, I’m not a kook and I’m not like the prefect girls you usually hang out with. I get it, okay?” You yanked your hand out of his hold, not missing the way Rafe tried to catch it back. Wiping away hot and angry tears with the back of your hand, you look him right in the eyes. “I just wish you didn't give me hope in the first place, because I feel so fucking stupid.” 

“You’re not stupid, Y/N. I don’t care about your money or your status, for that matter. I want you and I mean it. Just let me explain—”

"This is why you would not even speak to me in front of anyone, right? This is why we were always sneaking around. Because you want me, not because you’re too good to be around me.“ You confronted him, not even caring who could hear or see you. From the position where you were standing, you saw a bunch of young waitresses standing not so far away, pretending to work on the table but eyeing you and Rafe every second.

“I’m an asshole. I know it. I know that I didn’t put the label on us and that I fucked up, not doing the right thing.” He stepped closer to you, not breaking eye contact to show that he was sincere. "When Topper and Kelce saw me with you, I panicked and said the only thing that made sense: we were just hooking up. I didn’t want it to be that way, fuck…” Rafe screched the back of his neck in agitation.

“You should go back and stop embarrassing yourself talking with a pogue. I bet your friends found it entertaining. How much did you tell them, hm? Did you share every single detail of what we were doing?” Your voice broke at the end.

“I didn’t tell them anything!”

“Well, I don’t believe you, Rafe!” You sniffed, looking away to distract yourself from the look in Rafe’s eyes. His blue eyes were round, full of concern and it seemed like he was almost panicking. "I understand how guys like you talk about women, but I guess I was stupid enough to believe you would not do that to me. So yeah, you got what you wanted from me and now you can go back to—”

You were rumbling one moment, and the next, two hands pressed on your cheeks, tilting your head up, and Rafe's lips were on yours. You gasped, hands freezing in the air in shock, before slowly moving to Rafe’s shirt to tug on it. 

He didn’t rush; he just firmly yet gently held you against him while his tongue slipped into your mouth, savoiring every second. It’s been just two days since you last seen each other, but God, you missed kissing him. Even if you wanted to move away, you couldn’t. Rafe's palms were on your face, guiding you, while his kiss made your head feel empty and light. He smelled and tasted so good and you hated how quickly you got used to the feeling of his touch on your skin. 

“Everyone can see us.” You mumbled into his mouth. 

“I don’t fucking care, Y/N.” He furrowed, still feeling the wetness on your cheeks from crying. With his thumbs gently rubbing your soft skin, he gave you a few quick kisses before continuing. "I swear, all I said to them was that we just hooked up, because it is what it was at that moment. I wouldn’t have shared anything intimate about you, baby. Please believe me when I say this.” Rafe sighed, resting his forehead on yours. His nose bumped against your—something that he started doing when you were alone in the bed, laying face to face and just looking at each other. "I am sorry I made you feel like you were just sex for me, because you weren't. Spending time with you was the best fucking time of my day, and whatever that was between us, I don’t want it to end.”

“Me neither…” You whispered, feeling warmth rushing through your body when Rafe wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you even closer into him. He placed a kiss on the top of your head and then you felt him turning around, seemingly studying people around you.

“Since everyone saw us today, do you think I can take you away with me right now?” 

“Take me away? But you have an event in a few hours, and I have to work.”

“No, now we have an event and we have to find you a dress. I’ll handle your work and find someone who can deliver your orders.” Your head snapped up, only to see a proud grin on Rafe's face.

“You’re joking, right?” You pulled away, laughing. “I don’t have such clothes nor do I have money to buy them, and I definitely wasn’t invited.” 

“That’s why I’m taking you to the store now. And since you are my girl now, you’ll be my plus one.” He just shrugged, probably unaware that he had just filled your stomach with freaking butterflies. 

“I’m your girl?” 

Rafe silently looked you in the eyes for a few seconds, and it seemed like he was trying to reassure himself about something. His eyes then shifted to your lips, as he dragged you back to his body, lowering himself to mumble against your mouth. “Yeah, you are my girl.”

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Curling Iron *ೃ༄

Summary: based on @abq654 request! "Hi!! I don't know if you take request but if you do.. can you please do something like.. reader covered in hickey and next day, the wags ask her about it.. and she says it's curling iron.. and then drivers enter into room.. and wags greet lando like "hi curling iron".. or something like that!!"

𐙚 ln x reader ✮⋆˙

𐙚 fluff + humour + slightly suggestive ✮⋆˙

masterlist ☾☼

your back was against the door before you could even realise what was going on. lando's lips had attached to your neck and his kisses and bites and licks were more than enough for your brain to melt. he was everywhere. you could feel him everywhere, and yet you wanted to feel more of him.

he groaned as his hands wandered and you let breathy moans. everything in that moment felt perfect. well, not as perfect as you would've preferred since the two of you were currently in his driver's room and not back at the hotel. but your hot, rich boyfriend had his hot, rich job to do, so the two of you took the opportunities that the universe presented.

his hands were on the button of your pants, and his lips on your neck, and just as things were about to get good, someone knocked on his door.

"lando, let's go, we've got media!" the person outside sounded urgent. he needed to go.

lando's forehead was pressed against yours as the two of you tried to catch your breath. lando's hands withdrew from your waist, and he leaned back to look at you.

"i'm so sorry," he whispered.

you smiled, shaking your head at him, "don't worry about it, bub. you've got a job to do. we'll have the whole night back at the hotel,"

lando smiled, kissing you softly once, twice, thrice. "i'll see you soon, yeah?"

you nodded, "i'm gonna sit with lily and carmen,"

he kissed your forehead, and said, "i'll come find you," just as another knock came. sighing, lando turned around and left to do his hot, rich job.

fixing your clothes and your hair, you left the driver's room as well, making your way to the VIP section to join lily and carmen. you spotted them quote easily, and walked through the crowd to where they sat.

"hey, guys," you greeted.

"y/n!" they exclaimed almost in unison. you smiled.

you took a seat beside them and joined in on their conversation. the world was bustling, and there were multiple tv screens displaying the track, the media pen, and any interview happening.

just as lando's interview came on screen, carmen's said, "what happened there?"

you turned and looked at her, confused. she pointed at your neck. frowning, you felt your neck, and the little sting of a bruise made you realise exactly what carmen was asking.

eyes wide, you stammered, "oh, just a curling iron mishap, nothing else,"

neither lily, nor carmen mentioned that your hair currently did not have curls and were in their natural wavy state, and instead just nodded, pretending to buy your lie.

the three of you fell into conversation again, and you tried your best to hide the not-so-little hickey that lando had left.

later, when all their duties were over, alex, george, and lando made their way over to the three of you. they had changed and the three of them seemed ready to go home. so were you.

"hey, curling iron," lily said nonchalantly, as you choked on your water.

lando looked at the two of you, confused, "what?"

carmen and lily's smirks were enough to make you sigh. facing lando, you moved your hair to show him just what he had done. lando laughed, shrieking and loud and you knew you couldn't be annoyed with him for more than three seconds. leaning forward, he pressed a light kiss on the hickey, seeming proud of himself.

"you can't do things like these, lan!" you insisted.

"why not? so i was having some fun with my girlfriend. big deal." he said.

"i agree. at least your boyfriend wants to have fun with you. mine forgets about me as soon as he sees either of these two boys," carmen grumbled, causing everyone to laugh.

yourusername

liked by landonorris, carmenmundt and 56,109 others

yourusername: boyfie's choice of celebration tonight!

view all 39,850 comments

user1 "boyfie" my heart 😩😩😩😩😩

landonorris the best kind of celebration

lnfour LFGGGG P2

user2 i thought drivers weren't allowed to eat junk???

user3 stfu

carmenmundt curling iron on podium 💪🏻

lilymhe so proud of our curling iron

user4 curling iron??? what is happening??? is that his codename???

user6 why tf would they call him curling iron?

user5 i need this gossip please

user7 LANDO P2 HELL YEAH

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺

hi! i hope you like this! i added a little smau as well, cause i felt like it 🤷🏻‍♀️ i've also got a link for my taglist and requests that you can find here!

[heirofnight]

it's the shadows, pt. 2

pairing: azriel x reader

word count: 4.9k

summary: after a drunken night with your bffs rhys, cassian, and azriel - one where you'd admitted to thinking azriel would be the most capable in bed (and az admitted to using his shadows on his partners lol) - the inner circle takes a vacation to a secluded cabin in the woods. and azriel's main goal is to show you what his shadows can actually do in the bedroom. part two of it's the shadows.

warnings: this is smut ok. pure smut. p in v smut. shadow smut. read at your own risk, ok.

a/n: OK highly requested part 2 to this series. first time publishing smut, pls be nice. but let me know what you think!!! enjoy <3

read part one here

azriel had a deep, dark secret.

a tidbit of information that he'd tried his best to ignore for the first several years after initially meeting you. now, he was far passed the point of acting as though it didn't exist - like it didn't drive him insane.

how could he? when you looked at him like that, when you made him laugh like that, when you'd outwardly flirt with him like that, when you'd all but crawled into his lap in the sitting room after he'd admitted to utilizing his shadows in less than innocent ways.

no, azriel was truly fucked, and his dirty little secret was threatening to crawl its way up his throat and launch itself from his lips.

he wanted you, bad.

since that drunken night a couple of weeks ago, azriel's want need for you had multiplied, had split in half and quadrupled and was now flowing through his veins as if it were his own blood. his brain was foggy, he was distracted, and all he could think about was you: your voice, your smile, your laughter, your lips, your scent. gods, your scent.

he felt like a lost puppy, trailing after you as though you'd lead him to salvation.

that salvation just happened to be between your thighs.

he'd become more in tune with you, your daily routine. he somehow was now able to pick up on your lingering scent, even if you'd left your preoccupied space hours earlier. he'd known you were there. and he'd sought you out in every situation he could. he longed to be next to you. during breakfast, dinner. during any meeting rhysand held that involved the entire family. while you baked in the kitchen alongside nuala and cerridwen - he was there. glued to your side.

he'd wondered if you'd noticed. the two of you were close to begin with, so perhaps you hadn't picked up on his increased attachment. regardless, you didn't seem to mind.

he'd picked up on your heartbeat changing when he drew near, and one time, he'd made a risky move - grazing your knee under the dinner table with a firm, scarred hand. he'd definitely noticed the change in your scent then - the aroma of your sweet arousal enveloped him almost immediately. he'd had to excuse himself from the meal earlier than normal after that.

he'd almost lost his shit and devoured you on the dinner table in front of his entire family, instead.

so when rhysand had declared that the entire family would be taking a weekend vacation, azriel's heart had almost torn through his chest. he'd get to be even closer to you, in a secluded location, with uninterrupted proximity.

rhys had recently purchased a gorgeous cabin on the opposite side of the city - it was perched on a high hill within the forest, and boasted views of the snowy mountain ranges that stood proudly alongside velaris.

the term cabin was a stretch - while the vacation home was a wooden structure, immensely cozy, and had cabin-like interior design, it was definitely on the more luxurious side. which came to no surprise, since it was rhysand's purchase, and the male loved extravagant things.

regardless, it was perfect. and azriel couldn't wait to take advantage of this much-needed vacation - one that included you, and an opportunity to get you alone.

you were obviously interested, he knew that. you'd alluded to it for years. and after he let it slip that he often let his shadows loose while bedding his partners, you'd fought to reign in your composure.

what he didn't know, though, was whether or not you were interested in him. beyond a sexual escapade. beyond two friends who were attracted to each other acting on impulse. actually interested - in loving him, all of him, and allowing him to do the same.

because that was azriel's deep, dark secret: he was in too deep, was falling over himself for you.

however, if sex was all you wanted, azriel would comply. he'd have you in any way that you'd allow, and he'd be damned sure to worship you in ways that would leave you absolutely ruined.

you'd all arrived to the cabin as dusk was painting the sky in pinks and oranges. his family shuffled through the large wooden front doors, and azriel felt the tension and stress escaping from each of his friend's tightly-wound muscles as though they'd left the qualms of reality outside in the snow.

not azriel's, though. his pent-up tension could only be released in one way in particular.

you'd set your bags down in the threshold of the designated living space, your head on a swivel as you peered upward - taking in the surroundings of the opulent cabin.

"this is why i'm friends with you, rhys," you'd joked, pushing your hair over your shoulders, "the perks are just too spectacular to pass up," you laughed this breathy little laugh, and azriel felt his spine tingle at the sound.

rhys chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest as he regarded you, "careful, y/n," he tutted, his violet eyes watching cassian as he began to fumble with the large fireplace in the corner of the room, "before i use my other high lord perks to order you to sleep in a tent outside," he bantered, raising his eyebrows in silent challenge.

you placed a dainty hand to your chest in mock offense, shuffling closer to azriel for protection. "you would never," you balked, spine straightening, "az would never let that happen, right, az?," you turned towards the shadowsinger, giving him a look of pure innocence.

azriel faltered for a moment as he met your gaze, but he caught himself quickly. "right, sweet," he almost cooed, using that nickname that set your heart running at full-speed. he reached out to place a hand on your shoulder in solidarity, turning towards rhys. the high lord was watching you both with a look of pure, knowing amusement.

"well, lucky for you two lovebirds," rhys began, pointer finger gesturing to the snowy evening beyond the large glass windows, "the tent in question is big enough for two," he waggled his dark eyebrows, huffing out a laugh.

azriel's cheeks tinted only slightly at his words, his mind immediately overcome with visions of all the compromising positions the two of you could end up in. alone. in a tent.

before az could fully recover from that revelation, you'd stunned him with your next statement.

"perfect, i'm sure az and i would have no issues keeping each other warm," you mused, voice low and playfully suggestive. you wrapped your hand around his large bicep then, hmphing quietly to drive your point home.

rhys barked out a laugh at your words, shaking his head before retreating to help a grumbling cassian with the fireplace.

azriel felt warm. too warm for the snowy environment you'd found yourselves in. your words set an inferno blazing within his chest and limbs. his instincts screamed at him to carry you to the nearest bed and have his way with you, once and for all. but instead, he cleared his throat, looking down at you with pink cheeks and ears.

you looked up at him expectantly, a sweet grin splitting your cheeks.

he heard you mention something about going to find your rooms, and he dazedly watched you grab your belongings before sauntering up the stairs. but azriel was frozen in place as if cassian had superglued his boots to the wooden floor.

he would not survive this trip.

feyre and elain had provided dinner for all of you, and after taking your seats at the cozy dining table that looked over the snow-capped mountain range in the distance, you all began to eat. it was a peaceful, warm family dinner. everyone was so relaxed, so happy to be amongst the company of loved ones.

azriel had taken his usual place next to you, just as he always did. different environment, same habits. you'd smiled up at him as he took his seat, and he'd silently begun to fill your plate with food before worrying over his own.

you'd reached over as you realized what he was doing, placing a hand on his muscular thigh. "hey," you whispered affectionately, so only he could hear. "you don't have to do that," you smiled, meeting his gentle eyes with a sweet gaze of your own.

his skin was on fire at the contact you'd graced him with, and he gave you a small smirk.

"i want to," his deep, rough voice rasped. and you felt your stomach lurch at the tone.

and so, he served you. and you let him.

as dinner progressed, you'd found yourself absent-mindedly moving closer to azriel's side. at one point, you all giggled endlessly at an overly-animated cassian as he told a story from the past - and when you leaned into azriel in a fit of laughter, your head resting on his shoulder, he'd made a move. he'd wrapped his left arm around the back of your chair, around you. he'd pulled you further into his warm side. and then he'd reached down, pressing his lips to the crown of your head. you'd peered up at him then, eyes full of adoration.

he met your eyes, and although he couldn't see himself, he knew his honey gaze was reflecting the very same feeling.

his lips lowered then, whispering right against the shell of your ear, voice low, "which rooms did you choose?," he questioned, nodding his chin towards the floor above the both of you.

you smiled softly, whispering back, "the one right next to yours," he watched as your stare traveled between both of his eyes, down to his full lips, and back up to his steady gaze. his heart rammed against his ribs.

he reached over to your lap, rubbing a thumb along the back of your hand tenderly.

"just so you're aware, i always sleep with my door unlocked," he spoke against your ear once more, the statement laced with undertones you quickly picked up on.

you hummed against his cheek, pulling back to catch his eyes, "noted," you said pointedly, sending him a flirtatious wink through your long lashes.

he was sure, in that moment, that he needed you more than he needed his next breath of oxygen.

hours later, azriel was sprawled on top of his bedding, eyes cast towards the ceiling.

the entire house had since made their way to their own rooms, settling in for the evening, and he briefly glanced over to the large windows that made up the entire left wall of his space.

the onyx sky looked like velvet, and azriel lost himself for a moment as he stared out at the smattering of stars that looked as though they'd been placed with precise care throughout the heavens.

the sound of a door clicking shut, followed by slippered feet tiptoeing from the next room over, broke through his distracted thoughts.

he immediately tensed up - it was you. this was actually happening.

the doorknob began to twist, the sound so quiet, he had to focus his eyes on the fixture to make sure he wasn't imagining things.

slowly, the door creaked open, and there you stood: in a black lace, silky nightgown that hit the tops of your thighs, your hair unbound and cascading down your chest, and a matching robe haphazardly falling from your shoulders.

you looked ethereal.

azriel audibly swallowed, and he didn't even remember standing up and crossing the room in long strides, but when he blinked, you were standing right before him - all twinkling eyes and rosy cheeks.

you smirked up at him - you were so confident, so sure. he huffed out a small laugh, raking his eyes down your body in a way that was absolutely not subtle.

"well," you spoke quietly, cocking your head as you studied his expression curiously, "i have to say, azriel. it took you long enough," you scoffed playfully, stepping closer to him.

he hummed, placing scarred hands on your shoulders before slowly sliding them down your arms, your robe dropping to the floor as he did so.

"if you've been wanting this as badly as i have, why didn't you just tell me?," he whispered, voice sultry as his hands traveled down your skin.

you pursed your lips, standing on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck. it all felt so familiar, so normal. as if you'd both done this song and dance countless times before. the way the both of you intertwined and came together so effortlessly had azriel's head spinning.

finally, you spoke, "maybe i wanted to refrain long enough to see if you felt the same way," you considered, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck, "maybe i wanted to make you work for it," your voice lowered, looking up at him from under your lashes.

azriel felt his knees threaten to buckle, and he closed his eyes before releasing a long, slow breath. he had to take his time with you, he refused to lose control this quickly.

but gods, you were making it hard.

and you knew it, too. you'd set your sights on breaking him down bit by bit, thrilled by the prospect of seeing cold, stoic azriel shadowsinger lose every bit of his composure at the hands of lust.

you preened, nipping and kitten-licking along his jaw so slowly, azriel began to feel dizzy.

"enough," he commanded, voice hoarse. he removed your hands from where they were hooked around his neck, holding your wrists together with one large hand.

"enough," he repeated, eyes darkening. "you've driven me absolutely insane for years, y/n," he spoke, voice made of gravel. "how amusing was it, hm?," he pushed you towards his bed slowly, each step punctuating his words, "to drive me mad the way you have, on purpose," he spat.

your knees hit the back of his mattress, and before you knew it, you were spread out on top of his soft sheets. you let out the tiniest whimper, a noise so obscene, azriel almost groaned out loud.

he sent a tendril of shadows darting towards your body, watching closely as they bound your hands together, resembling handcuffs made of smoke.

you grinned unabashedly at the sight, your eyes flicking from your hands and back up to his hardened gaze, "you really do use them, then," you stated, referring to the inky strands that were engulfing his body.

he looked like the angel of death coming to claim you.

he grinned at this, a sight that would be terrifying if it weren't so damned sexy.

"oh, sweet," he ground out, lowering himself over you so that his hands were braced on each side of your head, "you have no idea," his voice was low and full of carnal promise.

your breath hitched as his words, and you watched as he sent another tendril towards your throat. it wrapped around your neck effortlessly, much like it had that one drunken night several weeks ago. but this time, you knew the circumstances were different.

"i cannot wait to worship you," he drawled, eyes dragging down your lithe body. you could see the lust swirling within his gaze - his pupils were blown, his breathing was ragged.

you breathed out a moan of pure need, and his eyes snapped back up to your face. another shadow darted from his side, slowly working the straps of your nightgown down your shoulders. the same shadow pulled the silken garment down until your breasts were fully revealed to him - your nipples already painfully hard.

you needed him to touch you. somewhere, anywhere.

he let out a quiet grunt at the sight of you, reveling in you being laid bare for him.

"fuck," he grumbled, voice already hoarse with need.

leaning down, he wasted no time in sucking your left breast into his warm mouth, lavishing your nipple with licks, and sucks, and small bites. you began to writhe beneath him, and that's when azriel learned just how much you loved to have your nipples played with. breathy moans tumbled from your lips, and azriel almost lost his shit at the sound.

he began to slowly grind his still-clothed lower half against the edge of the mattress, low, erotic groans trickling up his throat and falling from his mouth as his tongue continued its ministrations. he'd glance up at you every now and then, and every time he caught the look on your face - mouth agape and eyes twisted shut in pleasure, he'd have to drag his aching cock even harder against the bed beneath him.

just when you thought it couldn't possibly get any better than his mouth against your aching breast, azriel upped the ante.

you'd felt another strand of shadow dart towards your right nipple, it's cool, ghosted touch swirling around the sensitive skin.

"oh, gods", you moaned, your hips beginning to buck and grind against his lower stomach. the scent of your arousal had overtaken his senses, and his eyes rolled back each time he inhaled greedily - he couldn't get enough. you were everything, everywhere.

the shadow continued to flick and dance across your right nipple, pinching and twirling around and around, back and forth. you'd tilted your head back, and you knew you could climax from this feeling alone if azriel kept it up for much longer.

"now, now, sweet," he abruptly pulled back from your chest, halting his actions. the other shadow that was swirling across your nipple had darted back to its master's side, too.

you whined quietly, jerking your head forward to meet his stare in utter disappointment.

"don't be a brat," he tutted, biting at your nipple once more in reprimand. you arched your chest to meet his mouth eagerly, and he grinned wickedly at the action, a devastating dimple peeking through as he did so.

"i said i was going to worship you, my love," his deep voice sounded like pure sex, "and i intend to do so," he pulled your nightgown completely down your legs as he spoke, discarding it to the floor.

he returned to hovering over you, tugging your lower lip into your mouth greedily. he hummed at the taste of you, before he began pressing kisses down your throat, your chest, your stomach, and down to your thighs.

you moaned quietly, spreading your legs open for him, giving him space to ravish you as he pleased.

but azriel had other plans.

he pulled his shirt off over his head, wasting no time in completely discarding his own clothing.

his thick cock sprung proudly from the confines of his pants, already leaking from the tip. your eyes darkened at the sight, and you felt your pupils dilate as he absentmindedly wrapped his large hand around his length, squeezing once to offer himself some relief.

he let out a groan from deep in his throat as he did so, and he couldn't stop himself from pumping his fist once, twice.

"i won't be able to hold myself back from you for much longer," he confessed, his voice strained.

"then don't," you whispered, the feeling of pure lust so strong, it almost made you tremble.

"i want to watch for awhile first," he grunted, eyes traveling over the length of your naked body before him. he granted himself one more rough stroke of his cock, large veins bulging along the shaft.

your eyebrows knitted together, head spinning.

"watch?," you asked, eyes glued to the hand he'd wrapped around himself.

he smirked knowingly, watching as a lone tendril of shadow darted from his side to between your legs.

you barely had time to react, barely had time to catch your breath before azriel's shadow began absolutely torturing you, in the best way possible.

it swirled between your legs, running along your clit in counterclockwise motions that felt so good, you couldn't control the sound that left your mouth in response.

your head was thrown back against the mattress once more, breathy moans growing louder as you felt it slide inside of you, fucking into you as it continued to tease your clit. its cool sensation against the heat of your center made your thighs shake uncontrollably.

you felt your hands slide towards your chest, needing to touch yourself, play with your nipples. you longed for azriel's mouth to return to your skin, missing the feeling of his warm tongue against you.

you heard azriel tsk from where he stood in front of you, practicing as much restraint as he could muster. he'd continued to tease himself every now and then, when he absolutely couldn't help himself. he'd grip his cock firmly, squeezing once. or he'd slide a hand down his shaft roughly, his hand slick from his own precum.

before you could open your eyes to see why azriel had reprimanded you, you'd felt the cool brush of shadows against your wrists once more. they'd bound your arms together, holding them above your head.

you whined, writhing as the shadow between your legs continued to drive you to the edge. and azriel stood, watching, eyes heavy and cock throbbing.

"az, i can't-", you moaned out, breathing ragged. "i'm going to cu-", you started, but were cut off.

"no, you aren't," he spoke, stepping closer to you, "because you aren't allowed to," he strained, voice cold and rough.

a moan tumbled from deep in your throat, and you finally looked up to find his eyes once more. he stood right next to the edge of the bed, watching the shadow between your legs with such intensity, it forced a shiver to wrack through you.

"look at you," he mused, voice taking on a softer tone, "i haven't even touched you yet, fucked you yet," he grunted, squeezing his cock once more. "you've already made such a mess," he drawled, awestruck.

"i can't wait to feel you," he met your eyes as he spoke, and you felt yourself careening straight for the edge you were warned to stay away from.

"az," you moaned, trying to clench your thighs shut, but his strong hand reached down to force them apart. "you have to make it stop, i can't-," you whined helplessly.

he abruptly called his shadow back to his side once more, and you cried out in frustration at the absence of touch where you needed it the most.

"come here, sweet," he commanded, voice gentle. you sat up slowly, the shadow he'd adorned your neck with tightening ever-so-slightly as you did. it made you dizzy, but you did as you were told.

"put the tip in your mouth," he demanded, pushing his throbbing cock in your direction.

you did as instructed, wrapping your lips around the leaking tip eagerly. you gazed up at him from under your eyelashes, and a groan from deep within his chest tumbled from his lips.

"lick," he strained out, grabbing a fistful of your hair, tugging your mouth back.

you slowly stuck your tongue out, making a show of swirling your tongue around the head of his cock. your eyes rolled back erotically at the taste of him, and you flicked the tip of your tongue against him several times - trying your best to push the male to the point of losing his restraint.

it worked. azriel snapped.

a primal growl left his throat and before you knew it, you were pushed backwards on the mattress once more. he grabbed your thighs greedily, shoving them apart before aligning himself with your soaked entrance.

"i can't control myself with you, y/n," he whispered into your neck, sucking harshly against the skin, "i won't be able to be gentle," he warned, biting at your shoulder so hard, you could have sworn he broke skin.

"then don't," you repeated your earlier words back to him.

"when i've fantasized about this," you added, wrapping your legs around his strong waist, "i cum the hardest when i think about you fucking me," you whispered against his ear, lighting the fuse inside him that would cause him to explode - just like you wanted.

"fuck," he groaned, his movements becoming urgent as he reached down to line himself up with you once more. "fuck fuck fuck," he rushed out, and then he thrusted into you with one hard movement.

you both moaned in tandem, the feeling of him stretching you out one of pure bliss. azriel had to rest his forehead against your shoulder to prevent himself from absolutely losing himself, losing control. his whole body tensed in restraint, his hips bucking involuntarily as he tried to give you a moment to get used to his size.

and fuck, was he huge. pain sluiced through you, and he stilled his movements once he was wholly inside of you. your pussy clenched around him once, and he huffed out a breath against your skin.

"don't do that," he grunted, grabbing a fistful of sheets from where he was braced above you.

you smirked, the pain finally giving way to soul-shattering pleasure. you clenched around him again, on purpose this time. "or what?", you whispered into his ear, challenging him.

he growled, pulling out of you completely before he thrusted all the way back in roughly.

"brat," he sneered, and then he was completely unwound, fucking into you with no control over his movements.

moans left your mouth with no abandon, no concern for who may hear you in the surrounding rooms. you panted, whined, pleaded.

you said his name in breathy moans that often made azriel have to stop for several seconds, or else he'd end up finishing way too soon.

"fuck, you are divine, sweet," he grunted against your lips, his forehead resting on yours.

you moaned into his mouth, biting at his bottom lip.

at one point, he'd flipped you onto all fours, drilling into you from behind. that shadow around your neck tightened, another shadow holding your arms and wrists behind your back. you felt the edges of your vision blur as your pleasure continued to reach new heights.

azriel was so close, so, so close. this position had made you impossibly tighter. he used every ounce of control he could muster to last as long as possible, the feeling of you wrapped around him was euphoric. every single fantasy he'd had about you had never come close to this.

as he felt himself drawing nearer to that edge of no return, he pulled out of you momentarily. you groaned at the feeling of being empty, but he'd only smirked and lightly slapped your ass in response.

he sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling you onto his lap gently. you straddled him, and as you lowered yourself down, you took every inch of him with newfound ease - as if you were made to take his cock.

he grunted, watching himself disappear inside of you with blown out pupils. his skin was slick, his curls stuck to his forehead. he looked delicious, you couldn't tear your eyes away from him.

"you feel so fucking good, az," you said on a breath. a moan left your lips as you lifted yourself up slightly, just to slam back down against his lap.

he grabbed your hips, taking your nipple into his mouth greedily. "keep saying shit like that, y/n, and i'm going to fall in love with you," he mused, grinding his hips against yours.

you moaned out his name, grinding your own hips down to meet his.

"oh yeah?," you urged, grabbing his shoulders as you began to ride him - swirling your hips as you bounced. "in that case, you look so, so pretty, az," you hummed, sucking onto his bottom lip, "so pretty when you fuck me," you nuzzled your nose against his, jutting your hips against his for emphasis. you reached up, daring to touch the top left corner of his flared wing, right in that spot that you knew would drive him wild.

azriel dug his hands into your hips, bucking wildly as he took over, fucking up into you from where he sat. he was always a sucker for praise, you knew that. and now, you were weaponizing it.

"fucking gods," he growled, his shadows encompassing you as they swirled through your hair, across your nipples, down your back and arms. the added sensation had you throwing your head back, meeting each rough thrust of his with your own.

your moans became almost constant, and he felt you growing even tighter around him as he became relentless with his movements. it was rough, his movements stuttering.

"let go for me, my love," he murmured, pressing kisses into every bit of skin he could reach. "i need to feel you," he urged, breathing ragged.

you nodded in response, pressing your forehead against his.

"my pretty y/n," he praised, licking your bottom lip messily.

and shortly after, you were coming undone around him, letting out a cry of his name that absolutely was heard by every member of the house.

azriel spilled into you, finally letting himself come completely unwound whenever he felt you pulsing around him. it seemed to never end, and he let out breathy whines and grunts as he rode his high, his cum leaking from between your legs in the most vulgar way.

you fell against him, the both of you breathing heavy. he wrapped his arms around you, then his wings, feeling so content and satisfied and whole.

and he was sure that he'd actually fallen in love with you.

"shit," you finally breathed out, completely exhausted.

"i knew you were the best in bed," you huffed out a laugh, resting your head in the crook of his neck.

azriel laughed, running a hand down the back of your hair affectionately.

"only for you," he whispered, kissing the side of your neck.

a/n: ok so. i need a cold shower after this. pls let me know what you think, i'm half asleep and have never published smut. for all of you that wanted a part 2, i hope you liked it! i'm nervous. ok love u <3

[sectumsempraaa]

Flames on Thin Ice

Pairing: jealous!Theo Nott x fem!Ravenclaw!reader

Word count: 2.9k

TW: cursing, jealousy, ridiculous amounts of yearning and fluff

Based on this request! Thank you :)

Summary: You and Theo Nott are something much more than friends, but just less than lovers. He would very much like to change that, as he’s no longer able to control his rapidly intensifying feelings for you. But when Slughorn’s exclusive Christmas party approaches and Draco Malfoy asks you to be his date, the limits of Theo’s jealousy are tested like never before.

“Come here, bella,” Theo smiles and gestures towards you as he strides over to where you stand, surrounded by holiday decor. He approaches you from the side, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you gently. A blush spreads across your cheeks as you hook an arm around his shoulders, placing the star on top of the Slytherin common room holiday tree.

Decorating the common room tree is one of your favorite parts of winter at Hogwarts. This year, the Slytherins asked for your help after hearing how amazing you did with the Ravenclaw tree for your own house.

Theo can’t say the same, but he’d do just about anything at this point to spend time with you. His crush on you has blossomed the last couple of months, your pull on him amplifying each day. Any opportunity he sees to touch you, help you, or make you laugh, he takes. No question.

“Grazie, cara mio.” You respond, looking down into his heavy, perfect blue eyes. You always try to speak to him in Italian whenever you can, picking up on his more common phrases. You’re the only one that goes to that kind of effort for him and he notices it. God, does it notice it.

He spins you around, earning a series of giggles from you before he lets you back down on your feet. Your hand lingers on his for a few seconds, which feels like an eternity to him. If only he could kiss you right here, right now. But the graze of your fingertips on his palm is enough for him, for now. He’ll take what he can get.

You step back, turning towards the fully decorated tree, ready to show off your hard work. He wants to watch with you but he can’t bear to when you’re looking this beautiful, this stunning. His eyes obsess over your every perfect feature, his eyes drinking in your essence. 

This might be my favorite outfit of hers. The plaid skirt, the knee-high socks, the cream colored sweater. No- the one from my birthday, when she wore my necklace…

Oblivious to his longing stare, you take out your wand, tucked into the waistline of your skirt.

“Lumos,” you say, a look of wonder and awe blossoming on your face as the tree lights up. The warm glow makes you gasp, the sudden joy jolting through you.

Your hands quickly grab his bicep, pulling yourself towards him. A squeal of happiness escapes you, prompting a laugh from Theo. His smile, your favorite smile, triggers your heart to flutter. The way you’re looking at him sends his mind spiraling.

Gods, she is perfect.

It takes him a second to recover from the profound effect your touch has on him. His skin burns like fire, his heart aching for you. 

I’ll win her. I’ll win her so she can spin around in my arms again next year.

Your soft voice brings him out of his thoughts. “What do you think? Is it good enough?” you ask, your eyes contemplating your creation.

He reluctantly removes his arm from your hands, wrapping it around your shoulders and pulling you close to his side, your head resting gently on his shoulder. In a moment of risk, he drops it to your waist, his fingers fiddling with your sweater. Your face quickly turns to his in surprise. 

His pulse stops, his breath with it as your hand slowly makes its way to his chest, resting above his heart. Your head tilts up to meet his dark stare, your eyes locking in on each other.

“It is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” He says, his voice barely above a whisper. It is glaringly apparent he isn’t talking about the tree anymore. 

You swore his head leaned down, his lips parted slightly, his hand pressed your whole chest against his, before-

“Y/L/N! Where is that pretty little Ravenclaw?” You hear a familiar, yet obnoxious, distant voice crawling its way into the common room from the dungeon corridor. A disgruntled Theo shuts his eyes in defeat.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding.

He notices the look of disappointment etched in your features, it’s enough to send a pang of longing and frustration slamming into him. His heart drops as your body detaches from his, putting a space between you. His side feels colder without your warmth against it.

I had her.

Draco rounds the corner, a skip in his step as he confidently strides over to you. His eyes light up with glee as Theo’s darken, seeing red. Draco takes your hands in his, kissing each one before speaking.

“My lovely little Y/L/N, just the girl I was looking for. I’ve got something to ask you,” he starts, your eyes widen as he gets down on one knee, keeping your hands clasped with his. A quick glance at Theo shows you the tension in his jaw, the dagger-like stare he casts on Draco.

Why’s she looking at him like that? That look was for me not even a minute ago.

“I have been personally invited to Slughorn’s holiday party and I couldn’t think of a more perfect date to bring. Will you be my plus one?”

The look of hesitancy on your face prompts him to continue. “Consider it the best Christmas present you could give me.”

Normally, Draco wouldn’t even entertain the idea of taking anyone outside his own house. But the Slytherin crew has a soft spot for you, so much so that the common room door doesn’t argue when you say their password anymore.

You giggle, taking a step closer to Draco. “Well, I do love a Christmas party.”

His bright, smug smile draws you in as he stands up and pulls you in for a hug, resting his head on top of yours. “I know you do.” He smirks.

He shares the time and dress code details with you before heading off to meet up with Blaise for dinner. You look around, only to find you’re alone in the common room. Theo left, admittedly, before he blew a fuse.

—

The next couple of weeks are interesting to say the least. Theo has been pining for your attention, trying to distract you from the other boys as much as he can. But mostly, he’s been keeping an eye on Malfoy.

In one instance, Draco came to Theo’s dorm, where he knew you were hanging out, to ask what you were going to wear to the party. “Hmm, we should match, I think.” He suggested. 

Nope. Not today, mate. And certainly not in my fucking bedroom.

Theo suddenly picked you up off his bed bridal style, physically removing you from Draco’s presence before either of you could agree on an accent color.

“Theo!” You yelp, wrapping your arms around his neck and peeking back at Draco. “Where are we going?”

“Anywhere that prat isn’t.” He responds with haste.

In another instance, Draco sat across from you in the Great Hall during breakfast and gifted you a pair of earrings for the event. “They sparkle almost as much as you, love.”

The gesture brought a heat to your cheeks that had Theo making fists under the table. He can’t stand to see you flustered over Draco’s pathetic attempts to buy your affection.

Thin ice, Malfoy. Thin. Fucking. Ice.

Draco continues. “My mother picked them out special. She was beside herself when I told her I was taking you.”

At this, Theo happened to “accidently” spill his tea directly into Draco’s lap, earning him a public scolding. But the words go through one ear and out the other. He remains unscathed, because Draco left, and you’re all his again. And really, that’s all he cares about.

—

The day of the party arrives, one Theo has been absolutely dreading. No amount of self-soothing could keep his mind from imagining the shit Malfoy would pull without him there to interfere.

In your dorm, Theo watches as you fix your hair and apply your makeup. He observes your every move, trying to etch each one into his memory, noting all the things you do that drive him crazy.

The way she bites her lip while putting on mascara.

How she hums Christmas carols while pinning up her hair.

When she asks me what shade of eyeshadow she should wear.

When you finish dolling yourself up, you change into your dress in the bathroom. A pout of frustration escapes you as you realize your hands can’t reach the zipper. You decide to ask for Theo’s assistance.

When you walk back into your dorm, you’re met with a completely awe-struck Theo, his tired eyes grow wider than you thought they could even go. The boy is seemingly paralyzed by you. 

Holy bloody hell.

His trance-like gaze runs over the lace neckline, down the curves of your bodice, and over the shimmering gown. He’s never seen you dressed up before, and you have him wondering why it took so long to.

“Spin.” He demands, begs. “Please.”

You slowly turn for him, a small smile adorning your face. The gown flows like water, splaying out as it twirls around you. You have to admit, both the dress and his reaction are feeding your confidence.

Nothing matters in the whole world except for her.

He stands, having noticed the undone zipper in the back. He saunters towards you, jumping at the opportunity, his eyes unwavering from your body. He places his hands on your hips, turning your back towards him.

Can I just marry her now? Can she wear this to our wedding? 

You feel his soft breath grace your neck, a whisper of affection envelopes you. “Mia bella ragazza,” he says, each word dripping with pure adoration. He zips you up with the utmost delicacy and care.

He wraps his left arm around you, pulling your back to his chest. He sways you both back and forth, imitating a slow dance.

“Y/N.” Theo says, ready to pour his heart out for you. Right here, right now. As your eyes meet his, you share a moment of yearning, his lips dead set on meeting yours…

Until an abrasive knock that could only belong to Draco breaks your stare from his.

Please don’t take her away from me now.

He, of course, opens the door without being granted entry. You slide away from Theo’s embrace, slipping on your heels and grabbing your cover-up. Draco beckons you to him, grabbing a hand and twirling you around.

The sound of your laughter plagues Theo. You link an arm with Draco, tucking into his side. Theo’s mind silently explodes with jealousy, trying to identify everything wrong with the sight in front of him.

He looks like dirt compared to her.

Draco reaches to fix one of the earrings he gave you, setting it just right. Heat begins to course through Theo’s very being.

I’d rather eat slugs than see my Y/N on his arm.

Draco leads them out, nodding a silent goodbye to Theo on the way towards the door. “I think we look rather dashing together, don’t you agree?” he asks, his ego caking each word.

Theo takes a deep breath, trying to maintain his composure as he’s left in silence. He vowed to himself that he would behave for you, for this one night. For your sake. 

But just before you leave his line of sight, you steal one last, desperate glance at Theo. And that’s enough to break his vow.

—

I can’t believe she makes me this stupid.

Theo thinks as he peers into Slughorn’s party from a tiny window. His feet perched on the ledge, several feet above the ground. His knuckles go white as his fingers grip the wall tightly. 

He spots you next to Draco at the table, noticing his hand covering yours. The students engage in lively conversation, mostly Malfoy telling boring stories about his father.

Though Theo tries hard to keep his focus on Malfoy, he can’t help but obsess over your breathtaking beauty.

His ears recognize the first few notes of the song you were humming earlier coming over the speakers. 

You gasp and whip your head towards Draco, your eyes lit up with excitement, your hands tugging his suit jacket. “This is my favorite song!! Can we dance?” You ask him.

He stands and offers you his hand, which you take immediately. “All night, if you’d like, love.” 

He doesn’t deserve this. He can barely carry a tune, let alone dance. 

Theo hops down from the window, using the moving picture frames as leverage. Once he lands, he finds the back entrance to the party, peering through the sheer curtains.

Good luck pulling this off, Malfoy. I hope she laughs in your face.

But that’s not what happens. In fact, it is hard to deny how absolutely gorgeous you two look together, each step perfectly placed, each twirl calculated. Everyone watches you both sweep across the dance floor with ease, like you’ve rehearsed this a thousand times. 

And even worse, it looks like you’re enjoying it. Theo’s hand drags down his face in agony.

Fuck… he’s killing it.

Theo’s inner fire intensifies as Draco’s hand moves to rest on your lower back. Too low for his liking. And the way you’re eating it up drives him mad. Draco leans in near your ear, sharing smirks and whispers with you. 

The bloody fool is talking during her favorite song instead of letting her sing.

An idea sparks in Theo’s head, one that would probably disappoint you. But he doesn’t care anymore. Especially as he watches Draco cross the final line by dipping you backwards, his eyes obviously lingering on your chest. When he lifts you back up to him, you hear a faint, boyish voice call from behind you.

“Confundus.”

Suddenly, Draco stumbles over, tripping over his own feet and falling on the floor, bringing you down with him. Slughorn swiftly strides over and accuses Draco of drinking too much champagne, despite your efforts to defend him. When he’s asked to leave, you follow him.

“Are you okay?” You ask, patting down the front of his suit jacket and fixing his hair. He rolls his eyes, shrugging you off and mumbling something to himself about how “Slughorn will pay for this.”

As he sulks away, you find yourself alone in the corridor, sighing and stepping out of your heels. A humming sound emanates from behind you, the familiar tone easily identifiable to your ears. You can’t help but smile as the pieces fall into place.

“Really? Confundus?” You joke, turning your head to the side with a smirk. Theo’s arm wraps itself around your front once again, swaying you in his slow-dance way. What you didn’t expect was the feeling of his lips on your cheek, kissing you ever so softly.

“Si, bella.” He responds, switching to kiss your other cheek. “With the way he drooled on you all night, he’s lucky it wasn’t a Crucio.”

You remove his hand, letting yourself turn to face him. He kicks your heels to the side, allowing you to step closer. Your hand reaches up to caress his cheek, your finger tracing the edge of his jaw.

“Mio bel ragazzo,” you say, lifting yourself up on your tippy toes. He pulls away, catching you off guard, grounding yourself to the floor again.

“I’ve waited forever to kiss you, Y/N. Dreamed of it, even.” He pauses for a moment, gathering his words, his finger twirling around one of your stray curls. “Let me.”

The blush on your face hits a crimson peak, nodding a silent grant of permission. Your heart races as both his hands firmly cup your face, pulling you gently until you feel his lips join yours, melding into each other.

The kiss is long and earned, his lips moving against yours with intention. When he finally breaks for a breath, you tug on his collar, quickly crashing your lips back onto his. A low moan travels its way from his mouth to yours, his hands now wrapped securely around your waist. Good luck getting this boy to let go.

You pull away, letting Theo rest his forehead on yours, a stupid smile adorning his face as he processes the moment.

“For what it’s worth, I told Narcissa I wanted those earrings. I think she almost felt bad that I had to go with him.” You laughed, playing with the jewelry on your ears.

“He’s not allowed near you- no, he’s not even allowed in the same room as you from now on,” Theo says, a shadow of the tension in his jaw lingers. “Or it’s lights out for him.”

You both break into a fit of laughter at the threat, leaning on each other for balance.

You pause for a second, his eyes brimming with unspeakable joy. Your hand finds the back of his neck, grazing it with your fingertips, feeling the resulting chills it sparks on his skin.

“There’s only one room I want to be in right now, and I’d like you to take me to it.” You whisper, Theo’s expression becoming eager as he immediately lifts you up, swiftly carrying out your order. You could tell him to burn down a city and he’d do it for you.

“Am I dreaming this, bella? Am I really taking the most extraordinary person who’s ever lived back to my dorm?” He asks, relishing the feel of your arms around his neck and the scent of your vanilla perfume encompassing him.

“Wow, the most extraordinary person? Ever?!” You giggle, your voice coated with exaggeration. “What does that make you?” You ask him.

“The luckiest.”

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

[mononijikayu]

just one day — nanami kento.

Do you think, my darling,” he asked after a moment, his voice thoughtful, “that we’ll look back on this day and remember it as one of those rare, perfect moments?” You nuzzled against him, feeling his warmth envelop you. “I hope so. It feels perfect to me right now.” Kento’s smile grew, a look of contentment on his face. “Then it’s perfect. And it’s a memory I’ll cherish.”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;

WARNING/s: NSFW, R-18+. Romance, Oral (f receiving), Masturbation (m receiving), Friends to Lovers, Husband and Wife, Friendship, Husband! Nanami, Reader! Wife, Fluff, Drama, Comfort, Falling In Love, Flirting, Fix-It, Humor, Domesticity, Family Life, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Idiots In Love, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Pining, Depiction of Sexual Acts, Depiction of Nudity, Mention of Sexual Acts, Mention of Nudity, Nanami Being A Great Husband;

WORDS: 9k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: im back hello hello!!! its been a while since i did something for kento. but he won second place in the recent poll and this had to be published soon after. reader and nanami speak danish at home, because reader and kento are fluent. speaking danish at home together makes it easier for them to retain danish!!! anyway, enjoy this~ i love you all <3

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safe and sound | just one day

next: i love you so

HE DOESN’T THINK HE’S EVER BEEN USED TO REST. Nanami Kento wasn’t one for lazy days. His life was always defined by structure, order, and discipline—but today, he found himself yearning for something different.

He woke up to the sun pouring through the curtains, a rare warmth on his face, and instead of feeling the usual rush of urgency to start his day, he felt… content. He had a day off, a luxury in his line of work, and there was only one thing he wanted to do with it: spend it with you. In all ways he can. In all ways he wants. Even if they were a little greedy on his part. 

The thing that woke you up was a soft, feather-light sensation, and it took you a moment to realize it was the brush of Kento's lips. He was nestled between your thighs, his face nuzzling against the tender skin, his mouth moving with an almost reverent slowness. A gasp escaped your lips, your hand instinctively reaching out to tangle in his tousled hair as he continued, his tongue tracing slow, deliberate patterns that sent shivers up your spine.

Your fingers curled into the sheets, and a soft mewl slipped from your throat as his hands gripped your hips, guiding you closer. The sound of your voice, the way your body trembled beneath his touch—Kento could feel his heart swell with a quiet kind of happiness, a fulfillment that came from these rare, precious moments of intimacy.

He didn’t rush. There was no need. For once, time stretched luxuriously before him, each second an opportunity to savor the taste of you, to feel the softness of your skin, and to relish the way your body responded to his every movement. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, hear the quiet hum of pleasure in his throat as he lost himself in the moment.

Your breaths grew shallow, each exhale a soft sigh that filled the quiet room. Every touch of his lips against you sent another wave of heat rushing through your body, an intoxicating mix of pleasure and tenderness that made your mind go blank. You could feel the slow, deliberate rhythm of his mouth against you, the gentle yet insistent pressure building as he explored every sensitive inch.

Kento's fingers tightened around your thighs, his grip firm yet affectionate. His touch was both a request and a command, guiding you closer to the edge with a patience that bordered on worship. You could sense his focus, his devotion in the way he moved—completely immersed in you, in the sounds you made, in the way your body trembled under his care.

Your hands slid from the sheets to his shoulders, gripping onto him as if anchoring yourself to reality. He looked up at you for a moment, his warm, honeyed eyes catching yours, a faint smile tugging at his lips. The expression was so soft, so utterly different from the usual calm and composed mask he wore, that it sent your heart racing even faster.

"Kento..." you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath, the name falling from your lips like a prayer. “My love….O–oh—”

He didn't answer, not with words. Instead, he hummed against you, a deep, satisfied sound that sent vibrations through your core. The sensation made you arch against him, a shiver running down your spine as he continued his gentle assault. His hands, strong and steady, slid up to cradle your hips, pulling you even closer as he redoubled his efforts.

That sweet, delicious pleasure had continued to build, an unstoppable tide rising higher and higher, and your body responded in kind, moving against his talented mouth with increasing urgency. You could feel the tension coiling in your stomach, tight and insistent, drawing closer and closer to the breaking point. 

And just when you thought you couldn't hold on any longer, when every nerve in your body felt like it was on fire, he pulled back ever so slightly, his breath hot against your skin as he murmured your name with a softness that melted into your very soul.

"I want to see you, darling." he whispered, his voice husky, a rare vulnerability lacing his words. "Let me see you."

Your eyes fluttered open, and immediately, you were met with Kento’s gaze. The intensity there was almost overwhelming, as if he was seeing straight into your soul, making you feel like the only person in the world. His eyes bore into yours with a kind of fervor that left you breathless, and in that moment, nothing else seemed to exist—only him, only you, and the deep connection that bound you together. 

You felt the corners of his mouth curl into a smile against you, a grin that was both mischievous and filled with a quiet, determined hunger. There was a glint in his eye, a challenge, almost, and before you could take another breath, he pulled you closer, his hands firm yet gentle on your thighs, anchoring you in place. You gasped as his mouth began to move more urgently, his tongue working against you with a renewed fervor, each movement precise, deliberate. 

He devoured you with a raw, animalistic hunger that sent a shockwave of pleasure rippling through your entire body. The rhythm of his tongue was relentless, his mouth eager and commanding, sending electric shivers up your spine. Every stroke, every flick, every swirl of his tongue against you was masterful, calculated to draw out the most sinful sounds from your lips. You could feel your body responding, arching toward him, giving in to the pleasure that he was so expertly creating.

Your head fell back against the pillow, a soft cry escaping your lips as you gripped the sheets tightly, your fingers curling around the fabric as if it were the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. The sounds of your pleasure filled the room, mingling with the soft rustle of the sheets and the rhythmic pulse of your heartbeat in your ears. The heat of his mouth, the way his lips moved with purpose and confidence, sent you spiraling higher and higher, your mind going hazy, your senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of what you were feeling.

His hands pressed into the soft flesh of your thighs, fingers digging in just enough to hold you in place, to keep you from escaping the onslaught of pleasure he was determined to give you. The slight sting of his grip only heightened the sensations, drawing a strangled moan from your throat. You could feel the tension building within you, coiling tighter and tighter like a spring wound to its limit, ready to snap.

He continued, undeterred, his mouth moving faster, harder, as if he could sense how close you were, as if he wanted to push you over that edge and watch you fall apart for him. His eyes never left yours, locked in a gaze so intense it was almost too much to bear. It was as if he was silently demanding you to give in, to surrender completely to the pleasure he was giving you, and you found yourself unable to resist.

The sunlight poured over the bed, bathing you both in a warm, golden glow, and you felt it—felt the rush building, cresting like a wave about to break. The sensation was overwhelming, the pleasure almost too much, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps. And then, with a cry that was both raw and helpless, you shattered, your body trembling, your back arching off the bed as you came, waves of pleasure crashing over you in relentless succession.

For a moment, there was nothing but white-hot sensation, your body convulsing with the force of your release, every nerve alive, every muscle taut. You could hear your own voice, your cries mingling with the sound of his name, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis, time itself pausing in the wake of your climax.

Kento didn’t stop, didn’t slow, his tongue continuing its relentless rhythm, prolonging your pleasure, drawing out every last shiver, every last gasp, until you were nothing more than a trembling, breathless mess beneath him. When he finally eased back, his lips were swollen, glistening with your arousal, a satisfied smile on his face. His hands moved up to your hips, fingers tracing gentle patterns on your skin as if to soothe the raw edges of your pleasure.

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of pride and adoration, his breathing heavy, his face flushed with desire. “Beautiful, darling.” he murmured, his voice low and thick with satisfaction, as if he’d just discovered a new truth about you, about both of you. "Absolutely beautiful."

You tried to catch your breath, your heart still racing, your skin tingling with the aftershocks of your climax. You could feel a flush spreading across your cheeks, a lazy smile tugging at your lips as you reached down, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging him up to meet your lips in a deep, grateful kiss.

And in that moment, with the sunlight spilling over the bed, with his mouth still tasting of you, you felt an overwhelming sense of completeness, of being entirely, perfectly alive.

This was the truest, the rawest of your husband. This is the side of Nanami Kento that was reserved only for you—a side that didn’t know the meaning of restraint, that didn’t care for the rigid lines of routine. Today, he allowed himself to be utterly devoted to the simple, intoxicating pleasure of you. He was going to enjoy you, worship you, love you; even if it was just for one day.

Nanami Kento hovered over you, your warmth still shining against his lips. He huffed a breath, watching you as you recovered. Your hair was tousled against the pillow, your breathing slow and even, and he felt a rare sense of peace wash over him. He reached out, brushing a few strands of hair from your face, his touch feather-light so as not to wake you just yet. He wanted this — this quiet, stolen moment — for just a little while longer.

When your eyes met his, shining in golden sunlight, a small sleepy smile spread across your lips, and Kento felt his chest tighten with affection. He licked his lips, drowning in the traces of you against his tongue.

“Good morning, my love.” you whispered, your voice still laced with sleep. “You’re too….. ravenous today.”

“Good morning, darling.” he replied, his voice a low rumble. He didn’t move, just continued to look at you with an intensity that made your cheeks flush. “You just looked so good, you know? I couldn’t help myself.”

You felt your face turn even more flustered. “You flatter me too much.”

He smiled at you. “I said nothing that was untrue. Especially not about my beloved wife.” His fingers trace against the loose echoes of your tousled hair. “I have the day off today.” he added, as if it were a secret he was letting you in on. “I’m all yours, my darling.”

You blinked, surprised, then your smile grew wider. “Really? No exercising curses or dealing with Satoru’s antics?”

“None. None at all.” he confirmed. “And I intend to do absolutely nothing. ‘ust wanna be with you today, hm?”

You laughed softly, a sound he always found soothing. “Nothing, huh? That’s new for you.”

“Don’t get used to it, my darling.” he warned, but there was a rare softness in his tone, a hint of amusement that only you could bring out. He slid closer, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him. “But today… I just want to stay here with you. No obligations. No responsibilities. Just us.”

You snuggled into his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek. “I can’t think of a better way to spend the day.”

He smiled, a small, genuine smile that you didn’t see often enough. “Neither can I.” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You looked at Kento, your lips curling into a lazy smile that made his breath hitch. Your eyes were half-lidded, still heavy with sleep, but there was a mischievous glint in them that sent a rush of heat straight through him.

You moved slowly, deliberately, your fingers trailing down to the waistband of his pajama pants. His breath caught in his throat as he felt the gentle, teasing pressure of your fingers tracing the outline of him through the fabric, feeling the stiffness grow beneath your touch.

“Kento…” you whispered, your voice soft but filled with intent. You could feel his body tense beneath your hand, his eyes darkening with a mix of surprise and desire as he watched you. Slowly, you began to rub him, your fingers moving with a deliberate slowness, enjoying the way his breath became uneven, a low groan slipping from his lips.

He muttered your name, his voice strained, barely able to contain the sound of his pleasure. “D-darling…”

You grinned wider, a playful expression that only heightened his longing. You slipped your hand beneath the hem of his pajamas, fingers brushing against his heated skin, and his body responded instantly, hips lifting slightly as if seeking more of your touch.

“I want it, my love.” you murmured, your voice laced with a seductive sweetness that made his heart race.

Kento’s breath came in ragged bursts now, his composure crumbling with every stroke of your hand. He watched you, utterly captivated, as you gripped him more firmly, palming his growing erection, feeling the way it throbbed under your fingers. You took your time with Kento, savoring the feel of him, the way his body seemed to tremble with anticipation.

“Please, my love…” you whispered, leaning closer, your lips brushing against his ear. “I wanna make you feel good too… Please? Let me do it, my love.”

Kento's eyes fluttered closed for a moment, a low groan rumbling deep in his chest. His hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip with a tenderness that seemed almost at odds with the raw hunger in his gaze. "

Y-yes, darling.” he managed, his voice husky, barely more than a breath. "God, yes…"

Your hand moved with more confidence now, your touch firmer, more assured, as you began to stroke him with purpose. The sounds he made were intoxicating, each moan and gasp made it clear how much your husband wanted you, how much he needed this—needed you to make love to him like this.

He was losing himself to you, the sensations overwhelming, his control slipping with every passing second. His hands gripped the sheets, his head falling back against the pillow as he let out a shuddering breath, surrendering to the waves of pleasure building within him. And you, watching him, feeling the power in this moment, couldn’t help but smile, knowing that today was just for the two of you.

You felt a surge of satisfaction as Kento's breath drastically quickened, his chest rising and falling with each labored inhale. The way his body reacted to your touch was a language all its own—one of trust, of need, of a desire so deep it seemed to consume the very air around you.

His hand on your cheek trembled slightly, his thumb brushing against your lips as if seeking some form of grounding, but even that small movement betrayed his growing desperation. He likes intimacy, your husband. He loves keeping you close. Touching you. You were as enthralled with the warmth of affection that was born from the touch of someone you loved.

Slowly, you leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his palm, and then another to the inside of his wrist. Your lips trailed gentle, teasing kisses up his arm as your hand continued its steady rhythm, squeezing and stroking him with a tenderness that left him breathless. Each kiss felt like a promise, a whispered assurance that you were there with him, fully, completely, in this moment.

“Kento, my love…..” you breathed against his skin, your voice barely a whisper. “You feel so good in my hands…”

He groaned at your words, his head turning to the side, eyes squeezing shut as if trying to hold on to his composure, but he was losing that battle with every touch, every caress. "I—" he began, his voice hoarse. "I don't… know how much longer I can…"

His sentence dissolved into another low moan as your thumb swept over the tip of his length, spreading the bead of moisture that had formed there, your fingers wrapping around him tighter.

You could see the conflict in his eyes when he opened them again, a mix of desire and restraint, but that restraint was crumbling, fraying at the edges as you continued to stroke him, your movements steady, determined. He bit his lip, trying to hold back, trying to keep some semblance of control, but the way his hips bucked against your hand betrayed him.

“Let go, Kento.” you whispered, your lips now hovering just above his. “Let me see you fall apart for me… Let me feel you, my love.”

His breath hitched, a shiver running down his spine at your words. He let out a shuddering sigh, his fingers threading through your hair, pulling you closer as if he needed to anchor himself to you.

“I… I can’t… hold back, darling.” he muttered, his voice rough, filled with a kind of raw honesty that made your heart skip a beat.

You smiled, a soft, knowing smile, and pressed your lips against his, capturing his mouth in a slow, heated kiss. Your hand continued its work, stroking him with purpose, with a rhythm that matched the racing of his heart. You felt him tense beneath you, his entire body coiling like a spring, ready to snap.

Then, with a deep, guttural groan, he finally let go. His body shuddered, a wave of pleasure crashing over him as he came, hot and thick, into your hand. His grip tightened in your hair, his kiss turning desperate, needy, as he rode out the intense waves of his release. 

You felt his body relax under your touch, his breathing gradually slowing, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He looked at you through half-lidded eyes, a faint, lazy smile tugging at the corners of his lips, a mix of contentment and disbelief in his gaze.

"You… you always know how to make me feel alive, darling." he murmured, his voice soft, filled with a warmth that made your heart swell. 

You leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, savoring the taste of him, the feel of him against you. “I love you, Kento. My dearest love.” you whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “And I love seeing you like this, with me.”

He chuckled softly, a sound that was rare, precious. "And I love you." he replied, pulling you closer, wrapping his arms around you. "More than I could ever say."

For hours after your little rendezvous, the two of you stayed tangled in each other’s arms, sharing quiet conversations, soft kisses, and long silences filled with nothing but the sound of your breathing. Nanami Kento held you like you were the most precious thing in the world, his fingers tracing absent patterns on your back, his gaze never leaving your face for long.

Eventually, you coaxed him out of bed with the promise of a simple breakfast. Kento resisted at first, his limbs still heavy with the sweet exhaustion of your shared intimacy, but the sound of your voice, so light and teasing, and the allure of spending a quiet morning together drew him from the warm confines of the sheets.

He followed you into the kitchen, still half-dressed, the waistband of his pajama pants hanging low on his hips, his hair more tousled than usual, the remnants of sleep and desire still lingering in his eyes.

He leaned against the doorway, watching you move with a quiet grace, your silhouette bathed in the soft morning light. You hummed a familiar tune under your breath, your hands deftly preparing the coffee with a practiced ease.

The scent of freshly ground beans filled the air, mingling with the warm rays of sunlight streaming through the window, and Kento found himself mesmerized by the sight of you. It was a simple, domestic scene, yet there was something about it that felt incredibly intimate, as if he was seeing a side of you reserved only for these quiet, stolen moments.

His heart swelled with a feeling he couldn’t quite name, a gentle ache in his chest that felt like contentment, like peace, but also something deeper, something he wasn’t used to allowing himself to feel.

His life had always been one of discipline, of carefully constructed routines meant to keep him grounded, focused. But watching you now, he realized how much he craved this—these mornings with you, the ease of your presence, the way you moved with such purpose yet without hurry.

He pushed himself off the doorway and crossed the room, coming up behind you. He slipped his arms around your waist, pulling you back against his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"You always look so beautiful," he murmured, his voice still rough from sleep, his breath warm against your ear.

You laughed softly, leaning back into his embrace, your hands stilling for a moment as you savored the feel of him so close, so tender. "Kento, you're still half asleep," you teased, but your voice was gentle, affectionate.

He hummed in agreement, his lips brushing against your temple. "Maybe," he admitted, "but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s true."

You smiled, your heart fluttering at the sincerity in his voice. You turned slightly in his arms, meeting his gaze, and for a moment, everything else fell away. The world outside, with all its demands and expectations, seemed so distant, so unimportant. Here, in this small, sunlit kitchen, it was just the two of you, wrapped in a quiet bubble of contentment.

"You know, my love...." you said softly, reaching up to brush a lock of hair away from his forehead, "I love seeing you like this, too. Relaxed. Happy."

He closed his eyes for a moment, his forehead resting against yours. "I never thought I could have this, you know?" he confessed, almost as if he were speaking to himself. "I never thought I could find this kind of peace… with someone."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly over the stubble on his jaw. "You deserve it, Kento. You deserve every bit of happiness."

He sighed, a deep, contented sound, and kissed you softly, a lingering kiss that spoke of gratitude, of affection, of a love that was growing, deepening with every moment you spent together. When he finally pulled back, there was a softness in his eyes, a lightness in his expression that you rarely saw but cherished whenever it appeared.

“Now, about that breakfast,” he murmured, his lips curving into a small smile. “What can I do to help?”

You grinned, handing him a spoon and pointing toward the eggs on the counter. “Start with those, chef. We’re in this together.”

He chuckled, the sound warm and unguarded, and with a playful roll of his eyes, he moved to the stove, taking his place beside you. As he cracked the eggs into the pan, his movements careful yet practiced, he glanced over at you, and that unnamed feeling in his chest blossomed into something undeniably clear—he was falling for you, deeper than he ever thought he could, in the simplest and most unexpected ways.

Kento watched you with endeared eyes for a moment longer, then finally allowed himself to relax, leaning back in his chair with a contented sigh. For the first time in a long time, Nanami Kento felt like he could truly breathe. And as he sipped his coffee, he decided that maybe, just maybe, he could get used to this kind of day off — as long as it was with you.

Kento listened to you as you spoke about expanding the gardens, your voice animated with excitement as you described your vision. You wanted to add a new section for herbs and perhaps a small patch for wildflowers to attract bees and butterflies. The way your eyes lit up with each idea, each possibility, brought a soft smile to his face. He found it soothing, the way you talked about something so simple and yet so full of life.

"I’ve been thinking, my love." you continued in your sweet voice. "We could plant some lavender along the path leading up to the porch. The scent would be wonderful in the evenings. And maybe a few rose bushes along the fence — I’ve always loved roses."

Kento took another sip of his coffee, his gaze never leaving your face. "Lavender, hm?" he mused, his voice thoughtful. "That would be nice. The smell is calming. And roses… they would suit you."

You felt your cheeks warm at his words, the unexpected compliment catching you off guard. "Do you think so?" you asked, a small smile playing on your lips.

He nodded, setting his coffee down. "Yes. Roses are resilient, elegant… and they add beauty to their surroundings. Much like you."

Your smile grew, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly. "Kento, my love, you’re making me blush."

"Good." he replied, a hint of amusement in his tone. "I like seeing you like this. Happy."

You reached out, covering his hand with yours on the table. "I’m happy when I’m with you, my love." you said softly, and he felt something in his chest loosen, a tension he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Always, my love.”

Kento glanced out the window, his gaze drifting to the backyard—a blank canvas of green that stretched out before him, the morning light casting soft shadows across the lawn. He remembered the way your eyes lit up when you talked about your plans, your hands gesturing excitedly as you described the flowerbeds you wanted to plant, the small herbs you would grow, and the cozy corner where you’d place a bench for reading.

The idea had seemed whimsical to him at first—another project, another commitment in a life already filled with so many—but now, as he stood there, imagining it, he felt a strange warmth blooming in his chest. Nanami Kento thinks that he could almost taste the color, the texture. Everything.

He could almost see it: the vibrant hues of lavender and roses mingling in the sunlight, their colors bright against the backdrop of deep green leaves. The delicate petals swayed gently in a soft breeze, the air filled with their fragrant scent.

He could picture the lavender—its soft purple flowers nodding gracefully in the wind, releasing that soothing, calming fragrance he knew you loved. The roses, rich and full, would add bursts of color—reds, pinks, yellows—each bloom a testament to life, to beauty, to growth.

The thought of it was unexpectedly comforting. He imagined himself coming home after a long day, his shoulders heavy with the weight of the world, only to be greeted by the sight of your garden, a small oasis of tranquility and life. The idea of it, of having a place that was alive, that was growing—just like the two of you—appealed to him more than he’d expected.

He pictured you there, kneeling in the dirt, your hands stained with soil, a soft smile on your face as you carefully tended to the plants. He imagined the way you’d look up at him, a smudge of dirt on your cheek, your eyes bright with joy and purpose.

The image made his heart swell with a tenderness that surprised him. He saw himself joining you, hands working beside yours, digging into the earth, feeling the cool, damp soil under his fingers, the two of you creating something beautiful together.

And it wasn’t just the visual that drew him in; it was the sound—the gentle rustle of leaves in the wind, the soft hum of bees flitting from flower to flower, the occasional chirp of a bird perched nearby. He could almost hear the faint trickle of a small fountain you’d mentioned wanting to install, its soothing babble mixing with the sounds of nature. It all seemed so… peaceful, so different from the noise and chaos of his daily life.

He hadn’t realized how much he craved that peace until now, standing there, imagining the garden you would build together. A place where time slowed down, where the worries and stresses of the outside world couldn’t reach him. A place that felt like home, in every sense of the word.

Kento’s hand absently brushed against the windowsill, his fingers tracing the worn wood as he allowed himself to linger in that vision a little longer. He could almost smell the herbs you talked about planting—basil, rosemary, thyme—their aromas mingling with the fresh air, bringing a sense of calm, of warmth, of life. He imagined plucking fresh sprigs for dinner, the scent of rosemary clinging to his fingers, the earthy, familiar smell of thyme infusing the kitchen as you cooked together.

And as he stood there, he realized that it wasn’t just the idea of the garden itself that appealed to him—it was what it represented. Growth, nurturing, care. It was a symbol of the life you were building together, the way you were slowly, carefully cultivating something beautiful out of the ordinary. 

Kento’s lips curved into a small, thoughtful smile. He turned to you, watching as you moved around the kitchen, your expression content, your presence filling the room with warmth. Yes, he thought, he could almost see it—the garden, the life, the future you were both creating, one moment at a time.

And for once, the future didn’t feel daunting to him; it felt… a little bit hopeful. He felt a quiet sense of purpose settle within him, a sense that this was exactly where he was meant to be, with you, dreaming of lavender and roses.

"I could help you with it, darling." he offered, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "On weekends or when I have time. I know you like gardening, but some of the work might be too much for one person."

You beamed at him, your eyes sparkling with gratitude. "I’d love that, my love." you replied. "It would be fun, wouldn’t it? Working on it together?"

"Fun…." Nanami repeated, considering the word. "Yes… I suppose it would be. Life is fun with you."

You blinked at his words. And then you burst into warm giggles, your cheeks rosy red. He realized then that this was what he’d been missing — not just a break from work, but a sense of purpose beyond his duties as a sorcerer. A chance to build something with you, to create a space where you both could feel at peace. The idea of nurturing something, watching it grow, appealed to him in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

"And, oh! My love, maybe…." you added with a playful grin. "Maybe we can add a bench under the oak tree, so you have a spot to read while I fuss over the flowers."

Nanami chuckled softly, the sound warm and genuine. "A bench sounds good, my darling." he agreed. "And I’d like to see you fuss over the flowers."

Your laughter filled the kitchen, light and joyful, and he found himself smiling, genuinely smiling, more than he had in weeks. As you continued to share your ideas over breakfast, Nanami Kento felt something shift within him — a gentle, comforting realization that these moments, these simple, quiet days spent with you, were what he truly needed.

He didn’t need excitement or adventure. He didn’t need a life filled with constant battles and endless challenges. He needed this: mornings filled with coffee and conversation, afternoons spent planning gardens, evenings under the stars. He needed you.

"Alright, alright…." he said finally, setting his mug down with a decisive nod. "Let's expand the garden. Lavender, roses, herbs… all of it."

Your face lit up with joy, and you leaned across the table to kiss him, your lips soft against his. "Thank you, my love." you whispered, your smile bright and warm. "I think it’s going to be beautiful."

He kissed you back, his hand cradling your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. "It already is." he replied softly, knowing that as long as you were there, it always would be.

YOU WERE EXHAUSTED BY THE END OF IT. After washing up together, enjoying a little more romance in each other’s arms in the bathroom — you finally gently persuaded Nanami to join you on the couch.

You draped a soft, cozy blanket over both of you, and he settled in beside you, his arm naturally finding its place around your shoulders. The morning light filtering through the curtains added a warm glow to the room, and for a moment, everything felt perfectly calm and serene.

You nestled into his side, feeling his steady heartbeat against you, and began to talk about something that had been on your mind lately. “You know, my love….” you started, your voice filled with excitement, “I’ve been thinking about my recent book and my agent said that there’s a possibility that it might be adapted into a television show.”

Nanami turned his head slightly to look at you, his expression curious but attentive. “A television show?” he asked, raising an eyebrow with a small grin on his lips. “That’s great, darling. Though, I have to say — isn’t this quite a leap from a book. How did that come about?”

You smiled, your eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “I was told to keep quiet for a while, but now that things are going on, it’s something I can spoil.”

He grinned deeper. “Oh? You’re willing to let someone hear a very, very important secret?”

“Uh–uh. Don’t tell my agent though. She’ll kill me!”

“Alright, my darling. I promise.” He whispers against your tender skin. “Tell me.”

“So, I’ve been in touch with a producer who’s interested in the story. They think it has potential and want to explore it further. It’s still in the early stages, but the idea of seeing my characters and world come to life on screen is so thrilling.”

“That’s incredible, my darling.” Nanami said, a genuine smile touching his lips. “You must be very excited.”

“I am, my love.” you admitted, leaning closer to him. “But I’m also a little nervous. It’s one thing to write a book and have people imagine it, seeing it visualized… Like you said, that’s a whole different thing. I’m worried about how it will turn out, if it will capture the essence of the story.”

Nanami’s hand gently rubbed your arm, his touch soothing. “I understand, my darling,” he said softly. “But remember, the essence of the story is in your writing. No matter how it’s adapted, that core will come through as long as it stays true to what you wrote. And from what I’ve read of your new work, I do believe it will be quite huge if it happens.”

Your smile widened at his reassurance. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely.” he replied with conviction. “And if it’s something you’re passionate about, I’m sure it will resonate with others too. You’ve always had a way with words, and that won’t change just because it’s on screen. You’re such a great writer, after all.”

You felt a wave of relief wash over you, comforted by his unwavering support. “Thank you, My love. It means a lot to hear that.”

He looked at you with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. “I’m proud of you, you know. Not just for your book, but for taking this step. It’s a big deal, and you’re handling it amazingly. You’re just brilliant, my love.”

You snuggled closer, feeling a deep sense of contentment. Your cheeks turn brighter, as though a scarlet sunrise appeared before Kento. He smiles at how beautiful you look like this in front of him. But in truth, you always were. You always will be. 

“I wouldn’t have gotten this far without you, though. Your encouragement and belief in me have made a huge difference, my love.”

Nanami’s arm tightened around you, pulling you even closer. “I’m always here for you. And I can’t wait to see where this journey takes you.”

You sighed contentedly, resting your head against his shoulder. “I’m glad to have you by my side, my love. Even with all the uncertainties, having you here makes everything feel more manageable.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “We’ll face whatever comes together always, my darling.” he said softly. “And I’m looking forward to seeing your blossoming in what you love to do, hm?”

You both fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that spoke volumes without needing words. Wrapped in the blanket, with Nanami’s steady presence beside you, you felt a profound sense of peace. As you continued to discuss your book and the exciting possibilities ahead, you realized that this moment, this calm and cozy morning together, was just as significant as any big event.

For now, you were content to savor the simple joy of being with him, sharing your dreams and plans, and feeling grateful for the love and support that made everything seem just a little brighter.

After all, there was still that warm morning sun filtering through the windows, casting a soft, golden glow across the room. As though this is where the sun was. This was the center of the world. Just the two of you. The light seemed to weave through the sheer curtains, bathing everything in a warm, almost ethereal hue. It was the kind of light that made ordinary moments feel magical, turning the mundane into something beautifully serene.

As Nanami Kento leaned back into the cushions of the couch, he pulled you closer, and you felt the comforting weight of his arm around you. Your head naturally found its place against his shoulder, the fabric of his shirt warm and soft beneath your cheek. It felt almost like a dream — this rare, quiet intimacy with him, where the usual world of responsibilities and chaos seemed to dissolve into the background.

The stillness of the peaceful life, punctuated only by the gentle hum of the house and the distant chirping of birds outside, created a cocoon of peace around you both. Kento’s own steady breathing was rhythmic and soothing, like a comforting lullaby that made you feel utterly secure. His presence, so close and protective, wrapped you in a sense of calm that you seldom experienced.

In this tranquil moment, you could almost forget the outside world. The usual pressures and expectations faded away, leaving just the two of you and the simple pleasure of being together. The sun’s soft light created patterns on the walls and floors, dancing with the shadows in a way that made everything feel tender and intimate.

Nanami’s body radiates warmth, his heartbeat a steady and reassuring rhythm against you. His fingers lightly traced patterns on your arm, a gesture so gentle it felt like a silent promise of his unwavering support and affection. You could feel his heart beating steadily, a constant reminder that, in this moment, everything was right.

This rare, quiet intimacy with him was a sanctuary from the world outside. It was a space where time seemed to slow down, allowing you both to savor the closeness and the simple joy of each other’s company. Kento’s presence was and always will be your grounding force, anchoring you in this serene bubble where nothing else mattered but the connection you shared.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself sink deeper into the comfort of his embrace. The soft glow of the morning sun, the warmth of his body, and the gentle rise and fall of his chest created a sense of contentment that was both profound and delicate. It was a reminder that amidst the chaos of life, there were these precious moments of calm and connection that made everything else seem secondary.

In the quiet of the room, the warmth of your bodies began enveloping you both. And for a moment, you pray to any god out there. Because this life you’d built with Kento, it was everything. And all you had in you was this feeling of overwhelming gratitude. That you found each other. That you had each other. That you belong to each other for the rest of time. 

You like to think that one of these moments was worth living for. In these moments, so simple yet so significant, that you found true happiness. This is what your mother meant when she said that true love exists, that happiness was so simple and yet was boundless as the seas. Kento was your love, and he was your happiness. 

And you would be happy to be nothing but with him. You’d gladly stay in this bubble, this little planet of your own, this never–ending galaxy of love. The world outside could wait; for now, you were content to bask in the peaceful intimacy of the morning, savoring the rare and precious gift of being together.

You shifted slightly, feeling the soft, steady rise and fall of Nanami’s chest as you nestled closer. The warmth of his presence was soothing, and you took a deep breath, enjoying the tranquility of the moment. There was a brief pause, filled only with the soft sounds of the house and the gentle hum of the morning. Nanami’s arm tightened slightly around you, pulling you closer.

“Do you think, my darling,” he asked after a moment, his voice thoughtful, “that we’ll look back on this day and remember it as one of those rare, perfect moments?”

You nuzzled against him, feeling his warmth envelop you. “I hope so. It feels perfect to me right now.”

Kento’s smile grew, a look of contentment on his face. “Then it’s perfect. And it’s a memory I’ll cherish.”

You both fell into a comfortable silence once more, savoring the peaceful intimacy of the moment. With Nanami’s arm around you and the morning sun casting its gentle glow over the room, you felt a profound sense of contentment, knowing that these shared moments were the true treasures of life.

"Are you sure you don’t have somewhere you’d rather be?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, still trying to process the calm of the moment. 

Nanami turned his head slightly, his gaze meeting yours with a gentle intensity. "There’s nowhere else I’d rather be," he said firmly. "And no one else I’d rather be with."

You felt your heart flutter at his words, the sincerity behind them so very Nanami — direct and without pretense. It wasn’t often that he voiced his emotions so openly, but today felt different. Today, it was as if he was allowing himself to be just a man, rather than a jujutsu sorcerer bound by duty. 

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer, his fingers drawing small circles on your arm. “Tell me, darling…” he murmured after a while. “What would you do on a day like this if you had no obligations?”

You smiled, tilting your head to look up at him. “Hmm, I’d probably spend it just like this… with you. Maybe we could go for a walk later or cook dinner together. Nothing extravagant, just… simple things.”

Nanami’s lips curved into the smallest smile. “Simple things, huh?” he echoed. “I like the sound of that.”

You felt a warm, comforting sense of happiness settle over you. “We could read a book, or just stay here and talk. We don’t get to do that often enough, I think. We’re just both busy most of the time.”

Nanami hummed in agreement, his hand gently stroking your hair. “Talking with you is easy, darling.” he confessed quietly. “Not a dull conversation with you. Everything’s just….extraordinary even in the ordinary.”

His words made your heart swell with affection. “I’m glad, my love.” you whispered, your fingers playing with the edge of his shirt. “You make everything feel like that too, you know? Even the quiet feels meaningful when I’m with you.”

He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his breath warm against your skin. “Then let’s stay like this more often, hm?” he murmured, his voice a low rumble against your ear. “Let’s stay here and let the world move around us for a change.”

You nodded, settling into the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, letting it lull you into a calm you rarely felt. For hours, you stayed wrapped up together, sharing thoughts, stories, and soft laughter that came naturally in the stillness of the day. 

Eventually, the light began to change, the afternoon sun casting longer shadows across the room. You felt Nanami shift slightly, his fingers still tracing patterns on your skin, a small smile on his lips. 

“Do you know what I’ve been thinking?” he asked, his tone contemplative. 

“What’s that?”

He hesitated, as if choosing his words carefully. “I’ve been thinking… Maybe I should take days like this more often. Days where I don’t think about anything but being with you. I think I’ve forgotten how important that is.”

Your heart swelled at his admission, and you reached up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing over his skin. “You deserve that, Kento. You deserve to rest, to enjoy life outside of work.”

He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing for a moment. “And I think I’ve finally realized that, dearest darling.” he whispered. “You make me realize it. I’m grateful for you.”

You smiled softly, leaning in to press a tender kiss to his lips, feeling the gentle press of his hand against your back as he deepened the kiss. It was slow, languid, like the day itself — a promise that you both had all the time in the world.

When you pulled back, you saw something in his eyes that made your breath catch — a deep, abiding love that went beyond words. He didn’t need to say anything else. He just held you a little tighter, as if anchoring himself to this moment, to you.

“Let’s make dinner together, my love.” you suggested softly, breaking the silence.

Nanami nodded, his expression softening. “I’d like that, darling.” he replied. “And after that… maybe we can sit on the porch and watch the stars come out.”

You grinned. “I’d like that, too.”

As the day turned into evening, you and Kento moved to the kitchen together, the transition from a tranquil morning to a lively afternoon marking a subtle change in the atmosphere.

The kitchen was filled with the sounds of cooking — the steady rhythm of chopping vegetables, the bubbling of boiling pasta, and the occasional sizzle from the stovetop. The air was rich with the aroma of garlic and herbs, mingling with the comforting scent of fresh pasta.

You laughed over small things: a particularly stubborn piece of garlic that wouldn’t mince properly, a splash of water that nearly escaped from the pot, and the playful banter that came naturally as you worked side by side.

Your Kento's laughter, light and genuine, was a sound you cherished. It was a rare and beautiful contrast to the usual seriousness of his days. Seeing him so relaxed, so free from the weight of his responsibilities, made your heart swell with happiness.

Amidst the perpetual chaos in your kitchen, Kento walked over to the record player that sat in the corner of the kitchen. With a practiced hand, he carefully selected a vinyl and set it spinning.

The entire facet of the room was soon filled with the smooth, nostalgic tones of Paul Anka’s “Put Your Head on My Shoulder.” You gasp, knowing what this means. Almsot immediately, the soft, romantic melody seemed to wrap around the room, adding a layer of intimacy to the evening.

As the first notes of the song drifted through the air, your husband glanced over at you with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. He approached you, a playful smile on his lips. You couldn't help but shake your head bashfully as you smile back at him.

“I think this song calls for a dance, dearest darling.” he said, his voice gentle but insistent.

You looked at him, momentarily distracted from the task at hand. “A dance?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow in mock surprise. “While we’re cooking?”

Kento nodded, extending his hand toward you. “Why not? We can take a break. Besides, it’s a perfect song for it.”

With a laugh, you wiped your hands on a kitchen towel and allowed him to pull you gently away from the sink. The soft, inviting melody seemed to dissolve any lingering tension in the room, and you found yourself happily giving in to the spontaneous moment.

Your husband guided you to the center of the kitchen, the vinyl's music creating a romantic backdrop to the simple joy of dancing. He took your hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring. You rested your head against his shoulder, your body swaying gently to the rhythm of the song. His other hand rested comfortably on your waist, guiding your movements with a gentle precision that spoke of both affection and ease.

You felt a rush of giggles bubble up as Nanami’s hand found your back, pulling you closer. The softness of his embrace, combined with the slow, tender rhythm of the song, made you feel like you were the only two people in the world. The kitchen, with its cluttered countertops and simmering pots, seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the simple joy of being in his arms.

Your Kento's laughter joined yours, a warm, melodic sound that perfectly matched the mood of the evening. He spun you around gently, his gaze never leaving yours, and you felt a sense of pure contentment. The day had transformed from a series of routine tasks into a memorable, heartwarming experience.

As the song continued, you both danced slowly, savoring the moment. The gentle sway, the closeness, and the music created a cocoon of happiness that enveloped you both. It was a reminder that even in the midst of everyday chores, there could be magic and joy — a simple dance, a shared smile, and the warmth of each other’s company.

When the song finally ended, Nanami held you close for a moment longer, his hands resting lightly on your back. He looked down at you with a smile that spoke of deep affection and satisfaction.

“That was nice, wasn't it?” he said softly, his voice filled with warmth.

“It was perfect, my love.” you replied, your heart full. “Thank you for making this evening special.”

Kento's smile widened, and he gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead. “Anytime, my darling.” he said. “It’s these little moments that make everything worthwhile.”

You both returned to the kitchen, the mood light and cheerful, ready to finish preparing dinner with renewed energy. The dance, though brief, had added a touch of magic to your day, a reminder that the simplest of moments could bring the greatest joy.

Later, as evening gently gave way to night, you found yourselves on the porch, wrapped in a soft, cozy blanket that covered you both from shoulders to toes. The air had cooled, carrying with it the faint scents of twilight and the promise of a peaceful night. The porch, usually a simple space, felt transformed into a haven of comfort and tranquility.

The sky was gradually darkening, and you could see the first stars beginning to appear, twinkling faintly against the deepening blue canvas. It was a stunning sight, the stars emerging one by one, like tiny, distant fires illuminating the vast expanse of the universe. The beauty of it was mesmerizing, and it added a sense of magic to the evening.

You leaned into your husband's own body. feeling his warmth and presence next to you. His arm was draped around your shoulders, holding you close in a way that felt both protective and tender. His hand clasped yours, fingers intertwined in a gentle embrace that spoke volumes without the need for words. The connection between you was palpable, a shared sense of contentment and peace.

As you both gazed up at the sky, the stars slowly becoming more prominent, a comfortable silence enveloped you. The occasional rustle of the wind through the trees, the distant chirping of crickets, and the soft hum of nighttime created a serene backdrop, enhancing the feeling of closeness and intimacy.

You turned your head slightly, catching Nanami’s profile illuminated by the soft glow of the porch light. His face was relaxed, his eyes reflecting the starlight, and there was a contented smile on his lips. It was in these quiet moments that you could see a side of him that was often hidden behind his usual composure — a side that was just as relaxed and at ease as you felt.

“It’s beautiful out here.” you said softly, your voice barely more than a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might break the spell of the evening. “It’s just so clear tonight.”

Nanami nodded, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. “It is. I’ve always enjoyed moments like these. The simplicity of it, the quiet.”

You sighed contentedly, the comfort of the blanket, the warmth of his embrace, and the beauty of the night sky all coming together to create a perfect sense of peace. “It’s perfect, isn’t it?” you said, your voice filled with heartfelt emotion. “It feels like everything is just as it should be.”

He turned his head slightly, his gaze meeting yours with a softness that made your heart flutter. “I feel the same way, my darling.” he replied, his voice tender. “It’s everything.”

As you both continued to watch the stars, you felt a profound sense of gratitude. It was in these quiet, shared moments that you found a deep connection, a shared understanding that transcended words. The stars above seemed to mirror the feelings in your heart — a sense of wonder, love, and perfect contentment.

The world outside, with all its complexities and challenges, felt distant and irrelevant in the face of this serene, intimate evening. Here, on the porch with your beloved husband by your side, wrapped in the warmth of the blanket and the comfort of each other’s presence, everything seemed to align perfectly.

For a moment, it felt like time had stopped, allowing you to savor the simplicity and beauty of the moment. With your beloved Kento’s hand in yours and the night sky stretching out above, you felt that everything was exactly as it was meant to be, and it was perfect. Nothing could ever get better than being with him. Nothing.

“Thank you, my darling.” he whispered suddenly, his voice barely more than a breath against the night.

“For what, my love?” you asked, tilting your head to look up at him.

“For reminding me that there’s more to life than just work, even if it’s just one day.” Kento replied, face tender with a smile. “For reminding me that… this is enough. You are enough.”

You leaned into him, your heart full. “You’re enough for me too, my love. My dearest beloved Kento.”