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#catch these hands MAKING MORE ART OF THEM BC I LOVE THEM
jamjaemin · 7 months
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𝘿𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙄 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮'𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙤 𝙖𝙘𝙘𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚
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pairing: bf! nct dream x gf! reader
genre: 18+ minors dni, f!reader
summary: headcanons I'm sure 100% they are real bc I said so... and this is my first post here so yeah enjoy♡
Now playing: sos // nct dream
- boys who can cum in their pants by only having his head between your legs as he ruts against the bed. glossy and puffy lips that are slightly parted as he catches his breath.
Heavy on Jisung (his lips be looking perfect after giving you the best time of your life),| Chenle, Renjun
-  has a nasty habit of flicking up skirts you wear just to see what underwear you picked that day
Haechan (He would steal your panties and touch himself to it for sure)
- He has an eye for the arts, for aesthetics, and what's prettier than his little baby wrapped up like a gift for him? He runs his hands softly on your skin as he dexterously ties the knots. He touches all over you and takes the most beautiful pictures of you in the position he set you in.
Renjun ( +he'll paint you naked and prob have a big collection of masterpieces in a private room)
- doesn’t know when it started but he just has to hold onto your thighs whenever he sits next to you
Mark (in public more),| Jaemin (obsessed with them and your ass too)
- his biggest fantasy has always been fucking you on his bike
Jeno, Jaemin (like do I need to explain?...)
- sometimes would take you to these huge dinner parties in the prettiest dress and shoes he could find and walk you around as a tiny bullet vibrator delivered orgasm after orgasm through your poor pussy
heavy on Chenle, | Jeno, Haechan (will tease you about it later)
- loves your breasts so much that he doesn’t care if you’re wearing a shirt. as long as your nipples are poking through, and he can hear the cute hum you always make whenever he licks them, then he’ll gladly latch his mouth onto them through the shirt. when he realizes that you actually like when he does that, then he’ll sneak his hand under your shirt and grope them to make your nipples peek out more.
Mark,Mark,Mark (his big hands are made to grab tits I swear), Haechan, Jisung (he's like a baby sucking on them until they're swollen)
- It doesn’t matter if you’ve taken big dicks before, his dick is different. He could push it in and fill your whole pussy without getting close to being balls deep...he won't stop until you pass out.
Jeno (I know that dick is big and he'll not stop until he see tears falling from your eyes crying and begging for mercy)
Men who are lazy, and like to watch their girl bounce on top of him. Loves when you ride him while bracing your hands on his chest, while his hands are fondling yours. Tugs and pulls on your nipples until you are arching you're back.
Renjun, chenle(enjoys it to the fullest),| jaemin (it takes you a minute to start shaking then letting him take control)
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ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵐʸ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵖᵒˢᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ˡᵒˡ? I hope you enjoyed, bye! :3
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k2ntoss · 2 months
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this is from @millyhelp 's ask from the prompts thingy so babe, i hope you enjoy this!!! PLUS THIS IS QUALITY OVER ANYTHING ELSE, i should be asleep by now bc i have to take a flight tomorrow at 6am buuuuut here we are :3
milly when i catch you milly (i have been thinking about THIS since i read your request and i'm literally vibrating here in a level i cannot describe) i just i don't know what i'm doing but i hope you know i'm here sitting while thinking about jason AT WORK
when they murmur pure filth into your ear while they're touching you + smirking into a kiss/against your skin when you whimper at their touch + "you're in no position to tease baby, remember that."
jason can say he hates attending bruce's galas, they're boring and full of people he dislikes but having you as his partner makes it worth the time he spends there. the way he's able to admire you in those pretty long night dresses, your make up and hair done in a way you'd only look prettier to his eyes, it was definetely his favorite part of being out in a night he rather spend at home cuddling with you.
but what jason hates more of bruce's galas is the fact that he isn't able to be too touchy with you when you're by his side and yeah, he also hates the way you take advantage of that because such a loving girlfriend would enjoy the art of torture by teasing him all night long. he stares as you stand right next to him, your hand holding his arm as he speaks to someone and you stroke his forearm without paying much mind to anything else, jason feels your touch a bit more than what he should and it only drives him insane when it comes together with the way you stare up at him as he speaks, if only he could push you to your knees and get you to look up at him while you gag around his cock...
"sweetheart, i'm gonna go get a drink, i'll be right back" you say with a small smile, your hand suddenly bringing him back from his thoughts when you subtly graze his chest with your fingertips, making a soft trail to his stomach and he only nods, his lips parted and his mind running wild once again.
you make your way to the expensive bar, thinking about any tasty drink that will help you feel more comfortable around all the rich and empty individuals around the room so as soon as you're able to ask for a drink the bartender gives you what could have been seen as a gentle smile but truth be told, jason knew better and yeah, he was looking from where you left him because there's no way he'd let his girlfriend all alone and unprotected.
he's able to see the man hand you a glass filled with clear liquor and he holds himself to interrupt you or to make you uncomfortable, he knows you don't try to make any deep conversation with that guy but he, on the other hand leans against the bar and talks to you with a wide grin almost as if he thought he made a great and succesful attempt on getting your attention and that's enough to make him smirk proudly, jason knows he's the only one that knows how to get your attention in a way you do enjoy it.
what's unexpected for him comes right after you notice his eyes on your back and look at him from over your shoulder, giving him a soft smile before turning back to actually chuckle to something that guy was telling you and now, that's weird because he swears that right before you looked back at him you seemed to be really bored about anything you were hearing. jason is able to see, still from across the room how you sit on one of those high stools, the slit of your dress letting your thigh a little more exposed than before and the way you lean forward allows you to be a bit closer to a man that wasn't him.
he has no idea where he should look, your waist seems to call him just so he can place his hand over it and squeeze it in a possessive way, your legs look lile he could make them wrap around his hips as he pounds into you and he has no idea what's gotten into him, it's a mix of jealousy because someone else has your attention and the way your body looks so good it makes jason want to devour you whole.
his need grows worse when you switch from the short vodka and sprite glass to a tall one with whisky and the way you mindlessly stroke the side of it with your fingertips has him almost growling and he decides it's been already enough when the bartender reaches to the pocket of his black blazer and slides his phone over the bar, clearly jason doesn't know that you're just about to type in the phone number of one of your friends that needed a bartender for the new bar he wanted to open and he clearly wasn't even thinking about it, instead he just allowed himself to walk his way until he reached your side, leaning in and pressing a lingering kiss to your shoulder when he stood next to you "thought you were going to come back, princess" he says and there's a ever so slight tint of jealousy on his words.
"oh yeah, i got a little distracted here" you start before taking a short sip from your glass just to offer him an innocent smile "do you remember that bar a friend of mine wanted to open? i was telling him they wanted a bartender and i was about to give him leo's number" and he nodded, the bartender suddenly not looking so flirty with you when your big ass boyfriend was looking at him as if he was about to rip his head off his shoulders.
"yeah? think i have his card so no need to bother," jason tells you, his hand going into his pocket to reach for the nice wallet he used to keep cards and some other important stuff, taking out what he wanted and sliding the card across the bar "here. give them a call but i think they already found someone." he says with a subtle scowl before looking back at you. and as soon as his eyes met yours realization fell upon your boyfriend, that glint of pure mischief and joyful mockery was all he needed to know that this was just another part of your tease game.
"think we can talk somewhere else, baby?" he asks as he leans in to whisper into your ear "don't you think i don't know what you're doing, love." then jason mutters before leaving a soft kiss on your temple as his hand snakes over your side to hold your waist and pull you out of the stool just to walk you out of the room filled with people. it was a short walk across a few hallways before he opened a door that led to a bathroom, the marble counter and the tall roof another proof of how expensive the place was but you had not so much time to actually take in every other detail of the nice bathroom because you felt now both of jason's hands holding your hips and walking you until you were in front of the mirror.
"jay? what's that you need to tell me?" you ask him in a soft tone, sounding innocent as your boyfriend towered over you, his hands now resting on your hips as he looked at you through your reflection.
"how do you manage to look so heavenly, ma?" he sounds really sweet, unbothered as if your efforts weren't enough to make him act feral and that was strange to say the least "this is a good thing about this stupid events, being able to admire my girl looking so good." and still there's still a slight tint of possessiveness slipping into his words
"i don't know what you're talking about, baby" you'd answer, cheeks red and a sweet giggle escaping your lips as your own hands rest over his and anyone could see and say that this was just another wholesome moment between a young couple in love but jason had other plans in mind "but i think we're missing the whole thing"
your word fall on deaf ears when his hands start to stroke your hips, the silky and thin fabric allows jason to feel your bare skin right under your dress and it draws a deep hum out of his throat at the same time he leans to kiss that spot between your shoulder and neck "you know what i don't like about this galas? the fact that every other idiot is able to see my girl looking so damn good and what's worse, is that some of them think they have a chance with you."
his hands lower until you feel how the fabric slides upwards, causing you to shiver when jason's fingers caress your thigh under the slit of the dress while he keeps his gaze on yours through the mirror. he loves the way you look with him, how your body reacts to his every touch and yeah, anyone could say that jason todd is a bit possessive but you wouldn't blame him. the possessiveness on his touch came alomg with pure need, not only lust or dominance but with extreme adoration because you were the most precious thing on his life and he wasn't up to let go of you. not now, not ever.
"i don't know what you're talking about..." this time there's a small grin pulling at the edges of your lips, you do know what he's talking about and honestly, you adore when he wants to claim your attention from himself "but i was having a nice time chatting with my new friend" that part sets off a new jolt of jealousy and also it breaks the already thin string of patience jason has when it comes to your teasing.
"a nice time... were you? i think that you know exactly what i'm talking about, angel," jason utters right as his lips brush against the skin of your neck, he presses a lingering and firm kiss before his hand squeezes your thigh "all that mischief in your pretty eyes, the way you walk making your dress move in a way it only hugs your curves, do you think i can't see it?"
the way his voice grows deeper indicates what he has in mind and that's what you've been trying to get by touching him and putting a subtle show just for your boyfriend to grow insane with need. his gaze parts from your eyes to follow the path his own hands make as he starts to pull up the fabric of your dress, lips making a trail of short kisses that make you close your eyes and let your head drop to give him more room.
"you love attention, that much i can tell," he murmurs into your ear and as soon as he sees how you try to reach for him he shakes his head "no. hands on the counter and keep them there, be a good girl and do as you're told." he says, the comand on his tone sets you in automatic, pressing your hands against the black marble and seeing you being so obedient makes jason grin wickedly.
he had you right where he wanted you.
there's a low and rumbling chuckle that escapes him as soon as he is able to touch your bare hip, feeling proud of the fact that he knew you wouldn't be wearing any underwear with the silky dress that you were using. he loves that, being able to slide his hands under your clothes to touch you and feel you shiver before you start to grind against his fingers without a second thought. the feeling of knowing how much you wanted him and how good he was able to make you feel, it was only him that could do so.
"what a pretty surprise," jason says, one of his hands holding part of your dress up over your waist as the other one went to grip at your ass before letting a harsh slap fall over it that drags a soft yelp out of you "aren't you such a good girl? wearing anything underneath your dress to allow me to have easy access to this pretty pussy of yours" he says in a deep tone as his hand moves again, this time running over your inner thigh to squeeze it.
"jay... anyone could come in..." your words are soft, almost a whisper as jason's hand makes its way a bit further until he's able to graze your clit with his fingertips, making you press your lips in a fine line to hold back the soft moan that forms on your throat as you try to wiggle your hips to get a little more of his touch.
"no one is gonna come in, ma" he whispers into your ear, his arm now around your waist to hold the fabric in place as well as to prevent you from moving "now be a good little doll and spread your legs for me." jason says right before he bites your earlobe softly.
and you do as he says, allowing him to slip his fingers over your cunt in a slow and torturing pace, you can feel the rough skin and the way he seems to know exactly how to touch you to get you wet without doing so much. he keeps that touch, fingers teasingly tapping on your slit before he playfully spreads your lips as he kisses your shoulder with a shit eating smirk whenever you whimper and try to buck your hips to get him to touch you more.
"you don't like it when i tease you like this, baby? you seemed to be having so much fun when you were doing the same to me," he almost grunts as his hand pulls away from you, the pout on your lips and how you seem to wanna cry makes him laugh "you had no trouble to look up at me with those pretty 'fuck me' eyes you use when you're choking on my cock like a little whore."
he needs no other thing really to make you moan, jason knows what to do to get you going and he loves to start by teasing you. leaning in to whisper his every word to your ears and calling you all sort of names, his hands holding your body as he presses himself against your ass, letting you feel his hard cock though the fabric of his dressing pants.
"i wasn't doing that!" you protest, lying to him right to his face just to get what you wanted. pushing his buttons and jason would be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying this little game.
"oh weren't you now? you know damn well you were teasing me, since we arrived you can't stop swaying your pretty ass to make me drag you away just so i can pin you down to fuck you." he says, the same low tone as he talks and his hand moves, going up and hovering over your chest and throat until he reaches your face to hold your cheeks briefly, then letting go to slip his thumb between your lips "such a needy little thing, begging to be used without an ounce of shame like the slut she is"
a muffled moan escapes you, eyes closed shut when jason pushes his digit against your tongue and moves it back and forth as you suck it obediently but he stops and pulls away when he feels you rock your hips against him, your ass rubbing his bulge and making him groan right about to give up the small punishment just to bury himself deep inside you.
"stop moving. you're in no position to tease baby, remember that." jason says, this time his voice sounds a little more stern and his gaze is fixed back on yours "you want it so bad, don't you? want me to use you right here like a little toy for me to abuse whenever and wherever i want."
his hand goes back to your thighs, this time he holds one and squeezes it in a motion that made you lift your leg, allowing jason to make you bend it and hold yourself with your knee pressed to the counter. keeping you spread like that for him he lets a playful pat fall right between your legs, causing you to whimper in need, wanting to grind on his dick until he couldn't resist the urge to actually fuck your needy hole.
"c'mon... i really need you, jay" you moan as soon as his fingers stroke again your cunt, slipping between your folds he smirks when your slick covers his digits creating soft wet sounds as he traces circles on your clit before doing the same around your entrance "need you to fuck me, please, ruin me."
"don't think you deserve so, baby," he coos you mockingly, his middle finger pushing teasingly against you but not sliding in to allow to feel him into you "why don't you pull your dress down, mhm? let me see those pretty tits of yours, put on a show for me."
it makes you shiver, the idea of exposing yourself for him as he's practically punishing you is something new because jason has never asked you to do so while keeping your clothes on, lets not say in a public space but it was a turn on when he looked down at you with predatory eyes as you spilled your breasts out of your dress, the thin straps now hanging loose on your arms as he pressed his chest to your back and made a thrusting motion against your ass.
"the things you'd do for me to stretch your pussy, to be fucked dumb until you are nothing but a cock-drunk slut" he growls against your ear and the whiny moan you let out makes him grin widely as he kisses and nibbles at the nape of your neck "here, hold your dress for me, sweetheart"
and he nods when your hands hold now your dress, his hands guiding you to make you bend slightly. jason looks hungrily at your exposed body, the way you look so vulnerable when he took advantage of it made it so hard to resist his urges but he knew that as soon as you both arrived home he'd be able to fuck you into a mindless puddle.
"you adore doing this, don't ya, ma?" he asks, one of his hands slides down your back. caressing your spine and to your ass until he reaches your core, a sharp slap falls right there and the whine you let out only fuels jason "teasing me just so you can get attention, you love to get me jealous just for me to end up letting you know how i'm the only one that will make you feel so good"
his fingers are stroking you again but this time he isn't as delicate or slow as before, his hand grinds against your cunt and he pinches your clit a few times to make you moan even louder. the wet sounds his palm makes while he plays with your slick are only hushed by your whimpers, his other hand now groping your breasts.
"it's adorable how you try to get me to use you just to be edged, to be teased like every dirty slut deserves" jason growls behind your ear and this time he pushes two fingers inside you, moving them at a fast pace without really paying mind to the way your legs tremble because he is also teasing your nipples "all of this effort just to get your pussy played with, not even getting to feel my cock inside your greedy cunt."
"jay please... don't do this to me" you cry, the torture continues because jason touches your sweet spot a few times by curling his fingers but stops when you clench around him, trying to move and fuck yourself with his fingers but the gaze he gives you is enough to stop it.
"i'm sorry, princess, that's all you'll get now" jason whispers, a satisfied smirk and a kiss on your temple as he takes his fingers out of you before stepping back "you should fix your dress again, baby, you can't go out with it all pulled up."
that's what you got, jason is now looking at your reflex as he leans back against a wall and he licks his fingers clean before giving you a lovely smile.
maybe, just maybe, you were in no position to tease after all.
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dynsdiary · 3 months
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━━ my pov of ellie
a/n : hii this would be the way i see ellie or what i think she would be (obv hcs i think). so if you don't agree with me it is totally okay! just dont give hate comments and stuff like that.
cr : @idontgetanysleep & pinterest for all the pics
up next ⟶ part ii
DAILY CLICK
DONT BUY TLOU
WAYS TO HELP PALESTINE
what i think she would wear
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⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ i feel like she would own a lot of flannels, sweaters and baggy shirt.
⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ also, she would definitely like wearing pants that don't fit her perfectly so she can show off her boxer or boyshort thingy (and she makes them look good too!) ⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ I JUST KNOW SHE HAS THE KEY HOLDER THING CAUSE SHE DOESN'T CARRY ANY BAG OR PURSE WITH HER (she only uses them if needed lol). ⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ sometimes, she would love to just wear her hoodie/sweater instead of making an effort to dress up. i mean she would look good either way ⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ she actually has lots types of shoes but will always wear converse bc "it's comfy" (her words). ⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ i also like to think that she would love / enjoy overall especially if it's short and wear it in summer cause SUMMER IS HOT!!! ⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ oh pretty sure she own caps and denim jackets in different colors ⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ damn leather jacket (esp black one) would look so good on her
what dates you guys are going
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⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ in my head, ellie doesn't like or drink coffee but you two would go for cafe hunting or food hunting together, depending on what mood you two feel that day!
⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ ellie is definitely a soda or juice kinda girl
⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ baking or cooking together
sometimes, she's begging you to bake/cook with her dinosaur-themed food saying it won't fuck up but well… it does taste good but the presentation looks off… you guys still eat it though.
⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ ughh, listening to music together shared WITH ONE EARPHONE !!!!!!!!!!!
⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ okay, imagine running away from work or school for a moment and you two decided to go to the lake or beach just to wind down and have quality time together and catch up with each other's week.
also, imagine looking for rocks that look like both you and ellie's eyes colors !!!!!!! SO CUTE AND YOU DID THE TIKTOK TREND and it blew up !!!!
⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ thrifting shopping, both of you help each other look for gems.
"how does this look on me?" "like i want to go down on you" "ellie!" you exclaimed clearly flustered while hitting her arm. "kidding! you should get it, baby, it looks great on you" ellie kissed your cheek.
⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ picnic and stargazing. ellie, would tell you any facts that she knows to you while showing you what's up in the sky.
"oh oh! look at that one! did you know that-" and she continued telling you her facts and you would listen carefully. but there are times that you just want to look at her like the pretty view she is. "wow, that's so cool els! tell me more" you responded to her and she will gladly tell you more about it!
⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ art dates! i do see ellie as an artsy girl and let me tell you she knows what she's doing with her hands and is so talented too.
sometimes you like to call her a tease just because of how her hands are doing wonders for you LOL definitely, do the 10-minute challenge thingy, making a friendship bracelet just because and of course you two had to do the hand trend things to put it at your home or offices.
⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ museum date or aquarium date.
ellie could go on and on and on about dinosaurs or planets even sharks! girly has so many interests that she just has so many fun facts to tell you about! "woah, baby look how big this thing is!" ellie excitedly said. "that's what she said" you joke and of course ellie snickers at your bad jokes but deep down she does find it funny.
⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ late-night walks or drives are for sure your two favourite things to do besides cuddling.
late night walks when the two of you couldn't fall asleep and ending up at the park playing swings and just talking about the randomest thing ever and would probably go to the convenience store to buy strawberry and blueberry slushies. the two of you end up having purple tongues
⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ mannnn, i know ellie loves hiking (that doesn't take a long time to reach up the hill). i feel like she would be a sporty girl (kinda?), i mean i know she would go to the gym and all that.
ellie is a curious girl and just loves to explore new things and be adventurous and she likes it when you tag along with her. you, ellie and her cameras !! her taking pictures of her pretty girl (you!!)
⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ weeds and drinks combo and both of you laughing like an idiots while the soft wind brushes your skin
⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ to be fair, whatever the two of you are doing together called dates! she just loves being around you and so do you!!
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REMINDER !!
that neil is a zionist and therefore dont buy his games, doesnt matter remastered or not !!!
before you leave, have you DONATE TO PALESTINE today? ITS FREE TOO !!
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coffee shop headcanons
mattheo, enzo, theo, blaise, & draco; fluff
a/n: to all my draco people, sorry for the draco slander. also, first time writing about blaise and draco, so they might be ooc, don’t yell at me. this is shamelessly more starbucks focused bc i work there. another lil guy to make up for how long the theo soulmate au is taking ♡
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Mattheo
♡ this man is a cold brew guy, whatever delivers the most caffeine the fastest. inject it into his veins if you must.
♡ definitely adds espresso shots to all his drinks, even the cold brew.
♡ energy drink in one hand, coffee in the other.
♡ i’m biased, but i think he’d vibe with a lavender chai when he’s not getting his fix. (if you catch him ordering a dirty chai, mind your business)
Enzo
♡ he’s a “barista’s choice” kinda guy.
♡ he’ll walk up to the cashier and with that charming little smile of his go, “i’ll have whatever your favorite is.”
♡ he frequently gets little heart doodles and stickers added to his cups bc the employees love him.
♡ this boy also loves a seasonal drink and will get his friends to get one with him.
Theo
♡ espresso lover, 100%
♡ however, if the beans are shit, don’t bother.
♡ latte art lover, you can make a little cat drawing on his coffee?? do it, do it rn.
♡ secretly loves a pumpkin spice latte with enzo.
Blaise
♡ iced coffee all the way, no sweeteners bc he likes the taste.
♡ will also drink black brewed coffee, dark roast.
♡ can and has been suckered into getting a seasonal drink with enzo
♡ ofc he doesn’t actually like them, why would you ask him that???
Draco
♡ fucking iced matcha lattes because they’re a bitch to make.
♡ or he’s getting the equivalent of a frappuccino/frozen coffee. (the guys tease him relentlessly for this)
♡ does not like the taste of coffee, so he has to add a ton of milk and sugar to it.
♡ he just prefers tea.
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abadbitchblogs · 3 months
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SOS
Part 2
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Pairing: Jey Uso x OC x Damian Priest
Warnings: none
Word Count: 3.5k
a/n: Thank you all so much for all the love! I couldn't have asked for a better reception of my art. You all inspired this next part! Likes, comments, feedback and reblogs are always appreciated! Mwah!
-credit to @cafekitsune for the divider
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If it weren't for the 15 text messages from Joshua and the Instagram spam from Damian, she could swear that last night was a dream. One minute she was partying with her best friend and the next she was trying not to catch a case. Then she found solace in an unlikely companion. Her head was honestly still spinning from trying to process everything that happened less than 12 hours ago. Work was definitely going to be- something today, that much was certain. After she opted to just block Josh, she smirked at her notifications being flooded by thearcherofinfamy. He was obviously trying to get her attention since he didn't have her number. The drive to the arena would take less than an hour if traffic was nice to her so she had time to kill before the superstars were set to arrive. Kendall decided to play with the dark priest and thought to lure him out via DM.
[kenthedoll_] Meet me in an hour
[archerofinfamy] That didnt sound like a question
[kenthedoll_] Bc it wasnt, yk you wanna
[archerofinfamy] Alright I’m in
[kenthedoll_] I was counting on it. Meet me at my room
[archerofinfamy] Yes ma’am 
Well it was already 10 AM so going to the gym was out of the question which meant today would be a day of indulgence. Finally rolling out of the bed for the morning, Kendall danced through her daily routine with Bongos  blasting on her portable speaker. Damian felt so new- exciting! There was something just effortless and easy about being around him that caught her attention. Ken googled brunch spots on the beach so they had a chance to take in the scenery before they went home after the show. The weather called for a little white tee and shorts combo but she kept it cute pairing it with some comfortable loafers. Dressing like an Instagram baddie 24/7 was too much work for her. When she wasn't on screen or out on the town, she was more of a comfortable girly. In the few moments left before Damian was supposed to show up, she made sure her stuff was packed for the show then her flight home in the morning. You had to stay ready even if you weren't scheduled for the show in case any last minute changes occurred.
Right on cue at 11:15 three knocks rapped against her door to which she skipped over to snatch it open. “Fancy meeting you here.” Her tone was playful as she smiled at his classic bad boy appearance. “Good morning to you too, cariña.” The corner of his lips quirked up in a subtle smile that she found cute. Despite his dark wardrobe, his presence alone filled the air with warmth. The kind that kept the house smelling like chocolate chip cookies hours after they'd been baked. “I hope you like french toast and mimosas because we have reservations.” She didn't wait for a response as she took his hand leading him to the elevator after making sure her door locked behind them. “I don't care what we eat when my view looks like this.” A snort shot through the hallway at his cheesy line but she found his doting to be refreshing.  “Do you use that line often?” Kendall mused while leaning against the wall observing his mannerisms to familiarize herself with him. “My first time. Did it land?”
All she could do was put her head down to hide her amusement not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing he could fluster her so easily. The elevator dinged, signaling that they had reached the lobby and she ushered him to the back entrance of the hotel to allow them to walk on the boardwalk. “I hope I’m not keeping you from any leadership duties. I know you run a tight ship.” Damian thought Kendall was so different from the other women on the roster. No one ever really said what they were actually thinking but she did. She was inquisitive, direct, and original. “If you're wondering if I told them that I would be with you, I didn't. I wasn't sure if this was a secret rendezvous or not.” Ken laughed at his uncertainty as they walked side by side to the restaurant. “Think of this as a qualifier for you getting that number you asked for. I wanna know if you are as interesting as I think you are.” “Guess I better show you what you're missing.”
The confidence in Damian’s statement made her pulse quicken, her brown skin prickling with goosebumps. When the pair arrived at the restaurant, he made it his business to open the door for her and pull her chair out once they were seated. As they sat across from each other, her counterpart scanned the menu making small talk about what they would order but she was fixated on him. Kendall snapped out of the trance when he put his  menu down to see why she wasn't responding to him. A smile tugged on his lips whilst he leaned forward on his forearms, bathing her in the attention she was giving him. “I would ask if you see something you like but if you said yes, I'd have to do something about it and we’re in public.” Kendall mimicked his actions with a grin playing on her lips. “Well you know I love to perform.” The silence that settled over the table fueled the intense stare down between the two; the air crackling with desire.
Damian carefully contemplated what he was going to say next. Should he tell her that he wanted to eat her on that very table or should he change the subject? Before he could decide, the waiter came over to take their orders breaking their fierce eye contact. Glancing down at her menu briefly, she decided to make the most out of her cheat day. French toast, scrambled eggs, bacon and home fries while her counterpart opted for something high in protein like steak and eggs. The tension was still palpable after the waiter left with Damian shifting to lean back in his chair with his eyes locked onto hers. “How come you don't call me Luis like everyone else?” Taking a sip of her orange juice then mirroring his posture, Ken gave him a small smile. “Because I’m not like everybody else if you haven't noticed.” 
Once their meals arrived, they ate in comfortable silence stealing little glances at one another between bites. In true woman fashion she longed for some of his food even though her own was good. He noticed her eyes flickering back and forth to his plate so he wordlessly sliced a piece of his steak and held the fork out to her. Instead of pinching the meat off with her manicured fingertips, she rose up slightly to lean across the table and wrap her lips around his fork.  All the air in his lungs evaporated as she let out a hum of satisfaction while looking him dead in the eyes through her lashes. If he didn't drink the complimentary ice water, his boiling blood was going to start traveling south. “Is it good?” At that point he didn't even know if he was referring to the food or not. “The best.” Her tone was definite. They were indeed not talking about food.                                                      
Food was finished and the check was placed on the table. Damian looked at her, she looked at Damian then they both looked down at the bill. Snatching the envelope off the table at the speed of light, he waved it at her in triumph. “Gotta be quicker than that, princess.” Damian placed his card in the pocket making sure he held on to it as they got up to leave. “I asked you out so I should be the one paying.” Kendall argued, crossing her arms over her chest to look more intimidating but it just made him laugh at her bratty nature. “Ah so you admit this was a date.” His chin raised in victory, his back rested against the hostess counter while they ran his card. “Maybe.” She shrugged heading for the exit once the staff returned his card. He chased after her, catching up to walk beside her back down the boardwalk to their hotel making sure was on the other side of oncoming foot traffic. “You’re a stubborn one aren’t you?” Though it was posed as a question, she knew it was rhetorical and he was teasing her. “Well I am a Taurus.” It seemed like the most obvious thing in the world to her but he wasn't really into the whole zodiac sign thing. 
The whole walk back consisted of the two bumping into each other like they were on a different planet with no gravity. Even while they waited for the elevator, he found his eyes glued to her smaller frame until they moved to board. Both of their minds seemed to be so preoccupied that when the ding alerted them that they had arrived on her floor, it startled them a little. “After you,” In a sweeping motion, he allowed her to exit first as he watched the way her jean shorts seemed to hug her ass the way he wanted to. When they reached her door, they felt a sense of deja-vu all over again. “Well that was…” She struggled to find a word that could describe the date they just had. “Exhilarating.” Damian breathed out in agreement. He was nearly pressing her against the door as he peered down at her in adoration, “I think we should do it again.” Ken wordlessly held her hand out for his phone. Damian took the hint, pulling his phone from his pocket and gently placing it in her palm.  She saved her number in his phone under ‘Princess’ before handing it back to him. How fitting.
His body was tingling with the need to grab her and kiss those lips that always managed to stay glossy all the time. But they had to get ready to head to the arena soon; as much as he wanted to be the reason she was late, he didn't want her to get in trouble. “Do you want to ride with us there?” He offered half because he wanted to make sure she could get there okay and half because he wanted to spend more time with her. “Nah, I have a rental and I'm not fighting five people for the AUX.” “Alright then I’ll see you there.” His soft tone was accompanied with a curt nod and he knew he was supposed to walk away but his feet just wouldn't move. “See you later, Luis.” She laughed, gently pushing on his chest to give him some momentum to make it back to the elevator. He walked backward toward the elevator never taking his eyes off of her before she gave him a little wave before disappearing inside her room to get ready. 
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Ken sat perched on a crate in an empty hallway backstage as she cackled on facetime with Trin who wanted to know what was going on with her and Luis. “Mmm, who you looking cute for Miss Ma'am?” Her friend instigated causing her jaw to drop to drop at the implication. “Um, not too much. I always look good.” Rolling her eyes, she couldn't help the laugh that escaped when Trinity replied with a deadpan. “Yeah but when you're not scheduled for any screen time, you go for cute and comfortable. You got your titties sitting, legs all out and everything.” She lifted her phone up, angling it down to fit her whole body in the frame. “And is!” The two of them were cutting up so much in the secluded area that she didn't hear footsteps approaching until she felt a strong presence beside her. 
Her smile slid right off her face when she looked over to see Joshua. “I gotta go, sis. I’ll text you.” Just as Trin was about to ask her who had her moving like that, she hung up on her knowing that was probably gon get her cursed out later. “Joshua.” She hoped her flat tone would deter him from saying whatever he was going to say and ruining her mood. “Hey, can we talk for a minute?” Slowly scooting off of the crate, the girl held her hand up in dismissal. “Like I said before, we don't have anything to talk about. I’m good.” His gaze used to make her feel invincible but now she found herself trying to tug her skirt down in discomfort. “Please. You don't even have to say anything. Just listen. I wanna apologize.” In her mind she was debating on whether or not she could listen to his explanation. She really did want to put the shit behind her so she could fully let go- let him go, but now that he was in front of her, she knew she wasn't ready yet.
“I just can't do this right now, Joshua.” Kendall moved to walk past him only to be stopped by him grabbing ahold of her hand. “Wait-” “Stop doing that shit!” Snatching her hand from his grasp she quickly composed herself not wanting to draw any unwanted attention to them. “Stop smothering me. You can’t go from ignoring me for years to popping up on me and texting me fifty fuckin times. I’m not your bitch. Never was. I don’t owe you a damn thing. IF I decide to listen to whatever excuses you have, it’ll be on my time- not yours.” She walked away to take a breather when she turned the corner and smacked right into someone while she was lost in her thoughts. “My bad. I wasn't paying attention.” However when she looked up, she locked eyes with Señor MITB. “We have got to stop meeting like this, princess.” His stomach buzzed upon seeing her but when he noticed her agitated state his brows furrowed in concern. “You okay? What's wrong?” Shrugging the previous spat off, Ken instantly brightened up at his concern for her well being. “Fancy meeting you here.” Her teasing tone sent them into their own little bubble as they stood there making googly eyes at each other. 
Before Luis could respond, Josh rounded the corner she just came from and almost tripped over his own feet stopping to watch their interaction. Luis gave him a friendly head nod with his signature half smile when he realized they had an audience. “Wassup, uce.” Kendall swore she was so annoyed that a visible irk mark actually appeared on her forehead. “What's up, bro.” Jey’s cold demeanor confused him but he chose not to question it. Instead his eyes drank in her figure before lifting to connect to hers again. “You look fucking amazing.” “I try.” She grinned recognizing that familiar glint in his eyes. “I was actually looking for you because I just had an interesting meeting with creative.” “Oh yeah?” She arched her perfectly plucked eyebrow in intrigue. “Turns out they think Damian Priest would be more susceptible to leave Judgement Day because of a woman.” Now that was the last thing she expected him to say.  “Looks like Carsyn and Damian Priest are going to be entwined soon.” “I look forward to it.” 
A stagehand interrupted their heated exchange to tell Damian that his match was on in ten minutes. “Good luck out there, champ.” Luis patted his championship with one hand then raised his briefcase with the other. “I don’t need luck, but I think a kiss would give me a little motivation.” Her brows shot to her hairline being surprised by his boldness before patting his chest. “Win and I’ll think about it.” She smirked then turned on her heel to head to catering. “And don’t look at my ass.” Ken called behind her even though she knew he was most definitely watching her walk away. Luis shook his head in disbelief before going in the opposite direction to meet Finn by the gorilla. 
Kendall watched tag team champs defend their titles against DIY on the monitor in catering. All the close calls had her abandoning the food on her plate because she was too anxious to eat. Winning matches was always the goal but being safe as entertainers and athletes was top priority. Damian could hold his own but they were doing a great job selling the match because those kicks had her wincing for him. The match finally ended with The Judgment Day retaining the Undisputed Tag Team championships. Smiling proudly to herself, she continued to push her food around her plate, having lost her appetite when her phone buzzed with a text message from ‘Papi Chulo’. 
[Papi Chulo] Now back to that kiss
[Princess] I said I would think about it
[Papi Chulo] Don’t make me take it
[Princess] Is that a threat or a promise
[Papi Chulo] It's a warning
A tingle shot up her spine in anticipation. Tossing her food in the garbage, Ken left catering intent on furthering their game of chicken. 
[Princess] Catch me if you can
She was making quick work of trying to find a place to hide while superstars and staff looked on in confusion at her speedy movements. Rounding a random corner, she threw herself into the first storage closet she saw. They never took particularly long showers at arenas so she knew he'd be hot on her trail any second. Placing her hand on her chest to calm the pounding of her heart, she sucked in a breath hearing movement outside the door. Waiting with bated breath for something to happen, she slowly exhaled when the feet in front of the door continued on down the hallway. Kendall went to check her phone for any messages from him when the door burst open making her squeal and drop her phone. There he stood with a wolfish grin plastered on his face as he closed the door behind him. “I found you, little lamb.”
Every step she took backward, he stalked forward with his long legs crossing the small space in mere seconds. “That was fast.” Her adrenaline spiked again as her back hit the wall allowing his tall frame to cage her in. “What can I say? I had business to take care of.” His deep voice filled the air like smoke making her feel lightheaded as she laid her hands on his chest to ground herself. “And what business is that?” He wrapped a strong forearm around her waist pressing their bodies flush together and cradled the back of her neck with his other hand. “You.” Any words on her tongue died when he connected their lips in a passionate kiss. It felt like all the air left her body then came rushing back. Draping her arms over his neck, she leaned up on her tiptoes to deepen the lip lock. Ken let out a quiet moan feeling like she was slipping from reality as he held her. Hearing her sounds of approval urged him to lower his hand to grab a handful of her ass.
Willing herself to pull back from the kiss, Luis chased her lips coaxing a giggle out of her. “You’re intoxicating, muneca.” His voice was low but his stare was burning right through her. “I’ve been told I have that effect on people.” He laughed, moving to snake his arms around her small waist maintaining their closeness. “Careful. That effect gon have your ankles making friends with your ears.” The fire between them was spiraling- warping into something insatiable. “Is that a threat or a promise?” Kendall challenged only to receive a harsh squeeze to her ass. “Definitely a promise.” Tugging her hand to lead them out of the closet, he poked his head out of the door to make sure the coast was clear. “Let’s get outta here. I’ll drive.”
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kenthedoll_
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kenthedoll_  In my soft girl era 
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archerofinfamy the fairest of them all
↳ kenthedoll_ 👸🏾
trinity_fatu Its the smile fa me 
↳ kenthedoll_ its you fa me 🥵
wrestlingprincess80 face card never declines
↳ kenthedoll PERIOD POOH
biancabelairwwe ugh my fave
↳ kenthedoll_ I love you pookie ❤️🥹
carsynsclub not Damian commenting on her posts 👀
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@alichesmi @reci1996 @vall3yslug @2-muchsauce @wrestlingprincess80
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sturniolojpg · 6 months
Text
— boyfriend! matt sturniolo
pairing: matt sturniolo × reader
warnings: sfw & nsfw!! i put a divider for ya
notes: first time doing a headcannon i normally write oneshots so sorry if its like?? all over the place?? not proof read
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♥︎. when he needs someone to talk to, you’re there & vise versa. being so close with his brothers he’s learnt the importance of communicating and it’s become a super important thing to him. he’d rather admit he’s wrong or have you admit you’re wrong than go to bed upset with each other. he hates leaving fights unresolved.
♥︎. he holds your hand in public all the time. he’s gotta be touching some part of you. whether its locking pinkies or standing right up on each other. he just loves you tewww much to be not touching you when its an option! if nobody’s around he’ll throw in an ass grab here and there but never if people are there, he’s not a fan of that kind of pda
♥︎. passenger princess ALWAYS. which annoys you at times because you do like driving but if he’s with you, he wants to take over. he likes doing stuff for you and you let him bc look at his face!!!
♥︎. you constantly catch him starring at your face. when i say this man is OBSESSED with you, i mean it. you’re his favorite person ever. most important too (according to him after a late night conversation).
“mmm before your brothers?” you teased him after the admission. obviously, you were joking. that wasn’t something you excepted or cared about. what followed was the opposite of what you thought. “that’s right princess, you're before them. never tell them that i said that."
“fucking liar,” you chuckled. he joined in the laughter, placing a soft kiss on your nose.
♥︎. quality time is his favorite. he loves to be with you, doesn’t matter if you’re doing something or not. all he cares about is that he’s with you!
he hates baking because he’s bad at it but you love it and can actually make something edible so he bakes with you all the time.
you’re also pretty good with nail art so instead of going to a professional he lets you do his, extra time to just sit and stare at your pretty face!
when he’s playing video games you’ll spend that time reading your books (a hobby he can’t quite grasp but you love it so he loves it for you) - or you’ll join him if it’s a game you know how to play. you both just like being around the other.
♥︎. dating a public figure has its faults and the biggest one for you was a portion of his fans hating you. it felt like he wasn’t allowed to fully be your boyfriend because of some weird parasocial relationship others had with him. (me fr bc thats my man idc!!!😅) he comforts you with this 24/7 though & shows you in more ways than one that he is fully yours and you’re fully his.
♥︎. your laugh is the best medicine for him. he could anxious, sad, mad, etc, and with just the mere sound of your laughter he’ll be okay again. it’s his favorite song in the soundtrack of his life. he’d listen to it all day everyday. he tries to get you to laugh 24/7 & it works because you’re down bad, you think everything he does is hilarious, intentionally or not.
♥︎. you do little try on hauls for him when you go thrifting and always give him a runway show. he loves it, you’re the most adorable girl in the world in his eyes. he loves how comfortable you are with him and that you feel okay doing things considered to be “childish” with him.
♥︎. dirty jokes never go over his head and you love it. it could be the most niche thing in the world and they’ll always land with his slutty minded ass.
♥︎. he’s a silent jealously type, if a guys flirting with you he’ll stay quiet and just get more possessive via pda. he’s confrontational when he needs to be but doesn’t want to cause a scene over what he knows deep down is nothing. he knows it’s a price to pay when you’re with a FINEEEE ass bitch.
♥︎. when you’re back home though? the man is not hesitate to start an argument with you but it ends just as fast as it started, you both can’t be mad at each other for longer than 10 minutes. he’ll also give you make up kisses allll over your face.
HORNY BELOWWW, i’m not your parent but rwc
♥︎. or makeup sex. makeup sex is always an option. it’s actually your favorite way for him to apologize & his, you. you love the mans body! god forbid! it’s like all thoughts just leave your brain when you see him naked, he could get away with anything because you’re forever a ditzy girl around him unclothed.
♥︎. bro LIVES for when you ride him. he loves titties so being able to fuck you AND have your tits bounce in his face? closest thing to heaven.
♥︎. car sex 80% of the time. you both love the thrill of possibly getting caught but still maintaining a sense of privacy. plus it’s the only time you can be as loud as you want to. (he feels a lil bad afterwards though and makes sure to clean all the seats before his brothers get in)
♥︎. he’s a sucker for you in lingerie. he buys you some online all the time to surprise you. he loves when you give him a try on haul. it typically ends with him fucking you raw!! 🤗
♥︎. he hates when you get insecure. like HATES. he thinks you’re the most perfect person to exist and will not hesitate to overstim you so you can see just how much he practically worships you.
♥︎. speaking of overstim…. one night he’d gone so far that you squirted for the first time. since then he’d do absolutely anything to get you to do it. he finds it so hot and it’s such an ego boost that you did it for the first time with him. his new favorite thing about sex became when you soak his face.
♥︎. this!! man!! loves!! giving!! head!! your pleasure is his pleasure. he does it so well and makes you feel too good, you couldn’t possibly tell him no when he asks to eat you out at the most irregular times. he knows his way around your body and its the best thing in the world for both of you.
♥︎. morning sex is just…. like a staple of your relationship. it could be soft or rough, depends on how you both feel and just how far into it y’all get. it happens almost every morning. he’s always down for it and you’re always horny! (how could you not be when you sleep next to him?!)
♥︎. he is SO good with subtly turning you on. he knows exactly what you like and exactly what he’s doing when he does certain movements and gestures with his hands. he’ll post certain photos well aware of how insane you get with certain poses. he’s arguably more of a whore than you are and that’s saying… a lot. 😛😛
♥︎. turning him on is pretty easy, especially because of how much he loves everything about you. the sheer sight of you gives him a boner. you in a tight dress that hugs all the right curves?? practically nutting in his pants
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raplinesmoon · 2 years
Text
Doom Boy (KNJ x F!Reader)
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pairing: Namjoon x reader (also featuring hyung line) genres/au/rating: angst, smut, some fluff, mafia au, 18+ summary: Namjoon was a doom boy - he’d spent his entire life running from the ghosts of his past, keeping you and your son safe from the monsters that lurked on the city streets. He should have known that one day they’d catch up to him.
warnings: the mafia, attempted attack, drinking, mentions injury, mentions of past ab*se, brief mention of illicit subtances and money laundering, minor character deaths, choking, a great escape, Namjoon being an art hoe, smut warnings: sexting, dirty talk, brief daddy kink moment, explicit sexual content, soft dom!Namjoon, oral (f receiving), riding (it’s Namjoon duh), wrap it before you tap it pls
word count: 14.2k
a/n: happy Joon day (i hope i make the deadline) oh gosh, I don’t even know what this is like this was just supposed be some angsty yearning but it turned into this whole story bc Namjoon is the loml. i highkey think this is a huge mess and like cried outlining it bc i was feeling so many emotions, but it’s the first piece of writing in a month that i haven’t trashed completely (rip Yoongi, Hoseok, and Jungkook fics that shall never see the light of day). i really, really hope you like it! pls also excuse any grammar errors, i’ll go back and fix them soon!
Thank you to Ryen @kithtaehyung for the gorgeous banner!!
listen to the playlist!
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By all accounts, it was a typical Friday. The sun blazed down on the pavement, rivulets of sweat making their way down Namjoon’s back on his commute home from the office. Shuddering, he loosens his tie, eager to let the shackles of his mundane office job fall away from his being. Combing a hand through the strands of his hair, he thinks that maybe he should get a haircut next week, but ultimately decides against it when he imagines your face in his mind, lips pursed in a pout and eyes shimmering with the glimmer of unshed tears.
I love your hair like this, he can hear you whisper breathlessly, his mind flitting back to the memory of your fingers tugging at the strands nearly a month ago, daring him to pull you into another kiss after what had already been an endless night tangled up in the sheets, making the most of the precious time Hyun had at his jobumo’s house. He’d never been able to deny you a single thing, not since the moment your hand had shyly slipped into his on the walk back from your college library, the comfortable silence between you two soon blossoming into a life he’d never dared to dream of for himself.
His steps become quicker as he grows more restless, pushing through the endless hordes of city-goers around him, the tall skyscrapers casting a grim shadow above the streets below. He’s suffocated by the heat as soon as he makes his way into the subway, descending multiple flights of stairs until he sees freedom within his reach, signified by the screeching of wheels against the railway track.
Stepping into the air-conditioned compartment, Namjoon lets himself breathe, shrugging the strap of his satchel back against his shoulders, his eyes surveying the crowded train compartment. The train comes to a halt at the next station, the doors hissing to let the next group of commuters in, and he pales when he sees the ghost of a reflection in the glass — someone he hadn’t seen for years.
For a moment, he thinks his eyes are playing tricks on him, the tall broad, shoulders and dark ebony hair of a man his height disappearing as soon as the train starts again, but Namjoon remains deeply unsettled, the acrid memories of his past coming back to haunt him the most in moments like this. Moments where he didn’t have you, or Hyun, to remind him that with everything he’d left behind, he’d gained something exponentially more wonderful and precious.
His phone pings, snapping him out of his daze, and he looks down at it, a notification from you lighting up his screen. A smile makes its way onto his face, the tension seeping from his veins when he swipes on it.
Only to go slack-jawed a moment later. Namjoon looks around, making sure no one can see the bright light of his screen, before bringing the phone up closer, his mouth gaping at the picture you’d chosen to send him.
You hadn’t changed yet, the silky dress you’d picked out and shown him last night lying in a heap next to you on the bed, your body clad in the most provocative mix of lace and cut-outs, beyond anything his wicked mind could have conjured up.
Come home, you said. I can’t wait much longer.
Namjoon looks up as the train comes to another pause, a faint smirk making its way onto his face when he notes that it’s now time for him to get off.
Date night could finally begin.
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Under the dim lights of L’Etalage, you babble on excitedly about the latest gossip from the work week - two of your coworkers were potentially flirting with one another; another one would finally take their sour attitude with them and quit, your supervisor just learned he was having a baby. Your heart grows ten sizes when you think about how you’d gone through those same life changing moments years ago, falling in love with Namjoon, the intelligent, outgoing man who’d sat behind you in one of your science classes, and how now, you were happier than you’d ever been. Life was perfect with him by your side.
You talk, and Namjoon just listens, enraptured by the sound of your voice, his lips twitching into a small smile when he sees your eyes twinkle like stars under the candleglow.
“Namjoon?” You interrupt his thoughts. “What are you thinking about?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know, baby?” He smirks back, and you falter, flushing when you remember the text you’d sent him earlier.
There hadn’t been enough time to do anything about it, of course. Namjoon had barely pinned you to the wall, his hot breath fanning over your neck, before the phone rang, an excited Hyun up from his nap, babbling on FaceTime to his appa about all the fun toys his halmeoni had given him. You’d sheepishly excused yourself to go change into your outfit, leaving a frustrated Namjoon behind.
“This meal cost $200, Namjoon,” you raise an eyebrow. “We’re not about to leave right before I get my matchamisu.”
You jut out your bottom lip in a pout, and Namjoon laughs. The only thing you liked more than sex was sugar, and he couldn’t blame you. The matchamisu was delicious. Still, he couldn’t resist toying with you after the tease you’d given him earlier.
“Who says we have to leave?” He folds his arms, watching you bite your lip at the way his muscles strain against his dress shirt. “The bathrooms here are pretty nice from what I remember.”
Your lips part in an “O”, eyes dilating to pools of black, only for the waitress to choose that exact opportune moment to swing by, placing the matchamisu and two spoons on the table in front of you.
“Please enjoy,” she flutters her eyelashes, speaking only to Namjoon, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. Your husband was an attractive man, but he was also oblivious to the way other women flirted with him. He acknowledges her presence for a split second to give a polite nod, before his hand is reaching for yours across the table. His fingers fit perfectly into yours, the twin bands adorning your hands glinting brightly enough to send a message.
You shouldn’t feel smug when she walks away with a scowl, but part of you feels giddy.
Namjoon presses his lips to your knuckles, his dimples making an appearance as he grins while watching you dig in, moaning in delight when the sweet, creamy dessert hits your tongue. 
“I thought you were only supposed to make those sounds for me,” he quips, yelping when you smack lightly him on the arm, lifting his hands up in surrender. 
You return your attention to the plate in front of you, but Namjoon’s sharp, intent gaze has already done its damage, surveying you hungrily, a pool forming between your thighs. Watching as he excuses himself to the bathroom, you realize you both needed to get out of here.
And fast.
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Washing his hands in the sink, Namjoon feels sparks erupt across his skin, anxious to get you home and have his way with you while the night was still young. You played off his salacious flirting, but he could see the way it affected you, your breath coming out in heavy pants, skin glistening with sweat.
He makes his way to open the door, only for it to swing open right before he can reach for the handle, his shoulder bumping into another one. Namjoon reaches for the shorter man before he can topple over, but freezes when he sees the face looking up at him, the blood in his veins turning to ice.
“Yoongi-hyung,” he manages to rasp after many moments of silence, unable to fathom the sight in front of him. “What are you doing here?”
Namjoon’s head begins to spin, and he feels like he’s floating, suspended in the air and watching the scene unfold before him, face-to-face with a man he thought he’d never see again, a man he chose to never see again, when he’d left the life he’d had before you behind.
“Namjoon-ah,” Yoongi’s arms reach out in an embrace, and Namjoon dodges it coldly, watching his hyung’s smile falter, cat-like eyes surveying his tense figure. “It’s been a long time.”
“I’m going to ask you this again,” Namjoon spits through clenched teeth. “Why are you here?”
His thoughts immediately flit to you, sitting out there alone, and he realizes you both need to leave now. Namjoon had been running from the ghosts of his past for as long as he’d known you, swearing to himself to protect you from the danger that lurked underneath the paved city streets. And now it had found him again.
“She’s waiting for you out there?” Yoongi asks, and Namjoon resists the urge to say something he knows he’ll regret later. So he knew who you were. He shouldn’t have expected any different, and he silently prays that Hyun’s been left out of their reconnaissance. 
“Seokjin-hyung saw you today,” Yoongi continues, and Namjoon freezes again. So his mind hadn’t been playing tricks on him. He’d recognize Kim Seokjin’s broad shoulders and lithe body frame anywhere, remembering how it’d felt when they used to train together, tackling each other into hard concrete until one of them admitted defeat.
“Yoongi,” Namjoon abandons the honorific, and watches Yoongi’s face flicker in disappointment, before settling back into the stern, unfeeling mask he always seemed to have on. “You have to go.”
The older man opens his mouth to protest, but Namjoon pushes him aside, barely making it a few steps before he hears Yoongi call out to him.
“You can’t hide from who you are forever, Namjoon-ah,” he warns. “You and I both know that sooner or later, everything goes to shit.”
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Resting your head on Namjoon’s shoulder, the two of you forgo a taxi home, walking hand in hand on the road, the pale moonlight casting everything in a soft glow. You lift your head gently to gaze at Namjoon, frowning at the way his nostrils flare and his brows seem etched in a permanent furrow. He’d been tense ever since he’d returned from the bathroom, and you wondered if he was upset with you for rebuffing him earlier.
“Joonie,” you whisper, turning his face to yours. The two of you come to a stop on a secluded street, and Namjoon’s face softens at the use of your favorite nickname for him. To everyone else, he was always Kim Namjoon, the prodigy from the south side of town, always crushed under the weight of expectations that weren’t his own. He’d hated the way his name sounded growing up, hollow and business-like to his ears, devoid of any affection or tenderness. 
But to you, he was Joonie, the name you’d randomly come up with one late night studying, the two of you drunk on a caffeine high and laughing deliriously about anything and everything but the exam you had tomorrow.  He’d fallen just a little bit in love with you that night, the way your smile shone brighter than the incandescent, artificial lighting of the library. It’d stripped him bare, piercing through the walls he’d built for decades, and Namjoon felt something with you he’d never felt before. He felt human.
“Talk to me please, what’s wrong?” Your eyes bore into his, searching for answers.
Answers that Namjoon could never give you if he wanted to keep his family safe. The lies felt like a stab to the heart every time he let one escape, but overtime, the wounds had begun to scar, leaving ugly marks in their wake. And it hurt a little less to keep the truth from you every time.
“We need a bigger house,” he says, stroking your temple with his thumb. It wasn’t wrong. “It’s about time we gave Hyun another sibling, don’t you think?”
The tension melts from your shoulders, and you flick him in the forehead.
“You idiot! I thought something was bothering you, like a life-and-death situation, and you’re just horny!”
“You caught me,” he wraps his arms around you, leaning to whisper in your ear. “Are you still wearing that little number you sent me earlier?”
“Who said I’m wearing anything underneath?” It comes out in a breathy moan, and you feel Namjoon go stiff beside you. “Now take me home.”
Namjoon doesn’t move, frozen in place, looking beyond you to a cluster of trees, his eyes becoming dark.
“___, hold onto me,” he chokes, his voice breaking, and you feel a chill run down your spine. “And whatever you do, don’t look anywhere but straight ahead.”
Namjoon’s hand comes to grab your wrist in a death grip, and you feel your hand go limp from the circulation being cut off. Your heartbeat speeds up instantly, blood pounding in your ears.
“Joonie? What’s going on?” A single tear escapes, running down your face, and Namjoon’s heart shatters down the middle. The fear in your eyes was something he’d told himself he never wanted to see, and he darkly wonders if running into Yoongi earlier had been an omen of what was to come.
You can’t see it, your eyes untrained, but Namjoon knows that the two of you are being watched. He can make out the faint figure of a human silhouette through the trees, and the gleam of something silver. And probably sharp. 
He had to get you out of here. 
“Listen to me, when I count to three, you have to run. Run as fast as you can, and don’t look back. Go to your parents’ house and find Hyun. You all need to leave the city now.”
“Namjoon, please,” you sob, and your wail echoes into the empty street. “What is happening?”
“____, that’s an order,” he says sternly, his face grim, and you cower in his presence. He’s shifted from your soft, loving husband into something far more menacing, his eyes narrowing in thinly veiled fury. “NOW GO!”
His voice snaps at you, and you break, turning from him and running as fast as your legs can go. Rounding the corner, you pause, peeking around just in time to see an unknown man in blank lunge at your husband, a silent scream lodged in your throat when you see the gleam of a knife in his hand. 
You don’t stay long enough to see what unfolds, terror striking your heart and goosebumps erupting across your skin as the wind howls, the quiet streets eventually giving way to busy intersections, until you’re at a bus stop.
Heaving, you crumple over, sobs wracking your entire body as you wait for the bus to come, to take you away from the horrors of what had started out as the most normal night.  
When it does come, you lean your head against the window, watching the city lights flicker outside, and a painful realization sets in one that leaves you completely numb.
Namjoon had never told you that he’d find you later, that everything would be okay. You should have stayed with him, should have protected him like he protected you and Hyun. But you’d let fear win, and now you’d lost him.
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Namjoon shoves the man off of him, blood pouring from the stab wound he’d inflicted on his thigh. He wouldn’t be out for long. He’d been quick, but Namjoon was quicker. He’d been waiting for this moment for years, his instincts still as sharp as ever, honed from years of looking in the shadows, wondering if his demons would ever catch up to him.
But now you’d been caught in the crossfire - the way the blood escaped your face when he’d told you to run burned in the back of his brain. You were scared, and he knows for a fact it wasn’t just because of the unknown assailant. You were scared of him, finally witnessing the monster that Namjoon harbored deep inside.
Chest heaving, he catches his breath, tasting the bitter tang of salt before he even knows he’s crying, curses flying from his lips. He doesn’t know how long he sits there and sobs, shivering in the cold, but he hopes you’d listened to him, and that you and Hyun were far, far away from this hellhole. Neither of you deserved to rot with him.
He doesn’t hear the footsteps approach until someone is directly in front of him, their eyes taking in the sight of the unconscious man and the bloodstains all over Namjoon’s white shirt.
“Namjoon-ah? Shit, what happened? Where’s ___?”
Hoseok. The universe hated him, he was sure of it. Namjoon looks up, Hoseok’s worried face staring down at him, and relaxes when he doesn’t see a hint of anger. He wasn’t sure what to expect when they ran into each other again. Hoseok had been the one who took his leaving the worst; the loss of the only friend he’d had his age cutting deeply into him. 
I fucking hate you, the last text had said.
“I was running patrol on the area when I heard one of Ahn’s men had been spotted in our neighbourhood. I came as fast as I could.”
“Is he dead?” Hoseok’s boot prods at the man, who looks barely conscious. Namjoon musters enough strength to shake his head, still unable to say anything, when he sees Hoseok’s gaze shift to the knife beside him.
“Let’s go,” he offers Namjoon a hand. “Whoever they were, they knew you’d be here tonight. It’s not safe.”
Namjoon falters for a moment, unable to accept Hoseok’s offer of help. If he did this, he knew Hoseok would take him back to the compound, back to everything he tried so hard to leave behind. And away from you. He feels like he’s in limbo, watching the road ahead split into two paths.
Hoseok says nothing when Namjoon rises and accepts his hand, giving a silent nod of acknowledgement before the two of them head off into the night.
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“Mama,” Hyun sobs into your shoulder. “Where Appa go?”
His tiny fists ball into your shirt, and you do your best to bounce him up and down, keeping your own tears at bay. It’d been three days since you lost track of Namjoon, and in those three days, there hadn’t been a single text, call, or sign that he was okay. That he was still alive.
After picking up Hyun from your parents’ house, tearfully telling them the whole story, the two of you had returned home last night. In the back of your mind, you knew you were going against the last thing Namjoon had told you when he ordered you to leave the city, but you had to be here. He’d find his way back to you. He had to.
Every few hours were like this - Hyun would suddenly remember Namjoon and his tiny whimpers and sobs made you consider if it was finally time to stop waiting and call the police. Yet every time you dialed the number, something made you reconsider. The last look on Namjoon’s face remained burned into your memory, the shadows casting half his face in darkness when he asked you to run.
Your husband was a simple man. He left for work at 7:05am every day, and came back around 5:43pm. You knew he had excess money to spare, but you never asked him where it went, his only splurge being on an expensive bike he liked to ride on weekends. Date nights were mostly full of ramyeon and sushi on the couch at home, the fancy dinner a couple of nights ago a rare occurrence for you both. Which is why you were deeply unsettled by what had happened. 
It was almost as though Namjoon knew trouble was waiting for you that night, as if he’d been anticipating things to blow up in his face, The way he’d been so prepared — his calm, collected demeanor through it all made you shudder. Like he’d had experience dealing with it before. And that was what gave you pause.
Namjoon never really spoke about his life growing up – he was an only child, and while he was sociable in college, he mostly kept to himself. That didn’t stop you from wanting to get to know more about him, his brown eyes glimmering with the depth of the man he hid from everyone else. Everything had been a whirlwind after, falling into bed just as easily as you’d fallen for him, eloping right after you’d both graduated, with Hyun coming soon after. 
He’d never gone into detail about his family to you — only that his parents weren’t around, and you could see the pain in his eyes when he went slack-jawed and silent, eyes misty with unshed tears. That was when you’d decided that Namjoon didn’t need his family - he had the two of you right there, and that was enough.
But whatever happened that night changed everything. You shivered thinking about how you ran so easily when he told you to, how you didn’t want to stay to see who came out on top - Namjoon or the other man. You had a feeling the answer would twist your stomach into more knots than it already had.
Putting Hyun to nap on the couch, you decide to make a cup of tea to clear your head. And that’s when the doorbell rings.
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Namjoon stares up at the ugly brown ceiling of his childhood bedroom. He’d begged his father to paint it to complement the green walls, yearning for a taste of the outdoors that he never got to see living in the compound, with its cold concrete floors and stark white walls. In retaliation, Namjoon’s father had smashed one of his plant pots, screaming about how Namjoon needed to get his head out of the ground and finally start taking responsibility of his duties as the leader’s son.
So Namjoon had done what any 16 year would do. He’d corralled a snickering Seokjin, a skeptical Yoongi, and a spirited Hoseok and taken his father’s car for a joyride to snag a few cans of spray paint.
The uneven paint job stares back at him, and he smiles at the memory of the four of them running out of the hardware store, whooping in delight. Not a hair looked out of place, the room the exact same way Namjoon had left it seven years ago. And yet everything was different.
Stretching, he looks at the pots on the windowsill, each plant a former paragon of pride for him. Evidence that he, Kim Namjoon, was nothing like the slimy crooks he’d grown up around. He respected life enough not to turn it into a living hell for others. Fingering the withered leaves now, he remarks at how big a fool he’d been to think so.
“I tried my best to water them,” Hoseok appears behind him, setting down a glass of water. “But you were always better at the outdoor shit than I was.”
He feels the bed creak next to him, and it’s silent between them for a few moments.
“Hobi,” Namjoon croaks, and he feels Hoseok stiffen at the use of his nickname. “I’m sorry.”
Hoseok’s lips purse into a straight line, giving no indication that he accepts Namjoon’s apology. But he had to say it anyway.
“I sent Yoongi-hyung and Seokjin-hyung to check on her,” he says softly, and Namjoon’s heart sinks with guilt because he hadn’t been thinking about you, or where you were right now. All he hoped was that you were safe.
“You fucking bastard,” Hoseok chuckles, a tear slipping out. “You got married and you didn’t even tell us. I was supposed to be your best man.”
He’s unsure how much Hoseok knows about you, or even Hyun, but the bitter regret in the other man’s voice tells him that he wasn’t the only one with wounds who’d been festering for longer than they should’ve.
Namjoon knows he owes an explanation to him, to all of them, but tonight, he’s tired. The moonlight filters in through the windows, casting an eerie glow over the room, and he can’t help but feel that everything’s about to change.
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“____?” The man outside the door has eyes that gleam like a cat’s, piercing through the darkness as he surveys the home you share with Namjoon. Behind him, a taller man, his face covered by the shadows, looms, and a chill runs down your spine. Hyun was still sleeping peacefully on the couch.
“It’s about Namjoon.” The other man’s voice is gruff, his impatient sigh echoing into the night, and you watch his eyes widen as the door swings open.
“Who are you?” you ask through gritted teeth. “How do you know my husband?”
They step inside, their dark suits casting a shadowy gloom over what was once your bright and cheery home. Hyun naps away, and you become ever more aware of every tiny breath he takes when you see their eyes flicker to him, a surprised look on both of their faces. 
“He’s yours?” The taller man asks, and you hate the way he looks at your son, a stone mask over his perfect features.
“Let’s talk in the kitchen, please,” you beckon them over, not liking the way they continue to study him.
Stepping into the space, it feels more cramped than you’re used to, Namjoon usually preferring to keep out of it lest he set the house on fire with his lack of cooking prowess. Thinking about him had you experiencing a pang of guilt.
“My name is Yoongi,” the cat-eyed man mumbles, and then gestures to his partner. “This is Seokjin.”
The other man, Seokjin, looks at you curiously, and you don’t like the way his eyes bore into you, as if he’s trying to convince you to unveil your darkest secrets with one glance.
“We were Namjoon’s friends,” Yoongi says calmly, which seems to set Seokjin off.
“We’re his fucking family, Yoongs,” he spits out.
You feel dizzy – Namjoon had never mentioned these strange men to you. As far as you knew, he didn’t have any siblings or cousins he was close to. Who were they, and what did they want with him?
“Is he safe?” You have a million other questions, but this feels like the most important one.
Yoongi gives you a nod, and you feel the tension seep from your body, only for your heart to stop at his next words.
“But he’s not coming back. Look, it’s not our place to tell you about Namjoon, and it pains me because you deserve answers that you’ll never get. But you have to listen to him and leave. It’s not safe for you or your family here anymore.”
Head spinning, you resist the urge to crash into the side of the dining table as you stumble, catching yourself quickly enough to take a seat. 
“What do you mean? Where’s Namjoon? Why can’t I talk to him?”
“Listen,” Seokjin hisses, cornering you. “If you know what’s good for you and the kid, you’ll listen to us. We may fuck with a lot of nasty things, things that would make your toes curl, but there’s enough psychos out there on the streets who won’t hesitate to fuck over a woman and her child. We’re trying to give you an out.” 
Yoongi looks you over, and you see his eyes flash with sadness at the tears that fill your own.
“Namjoon isn’t who you thought he was. I know it’s hard, but you need to listen to us. You’re young, you have your whole life ahead of you. You can still have a happy life, meet someone new, fall in love again.”
You feel delirious. 
“You’re lying. Namjoon is my husband. No one knows him better than I do. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. He literally rides bikes with Hyun and they pick flowers together, for god’s sake!”
You don’t know why you feel the need to defend the accusations against him. The fact that they were telling you this at all meant that your husband had caught you in his web of lies, that all the years you’d spent by each other’s side were a farce.
“Yoongi, let’s go,” Seokjin says darkly. “We’ve done what we needed to do.”
Turning to you, he spares Hyun one last glance before crossing the threshold.
“I hope we never have to see each other again ___. For your sake.”
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“You have a son,” Seokjin says monotonously as Namjoon pads sleepily to the breakfast table, freezing in his tracks when he hears him mention Hyun.
He’d been too tired to think about anything last night, knocking out as soon as he hit the pillow, seeking reprieve from the mess of thoughts in his mind that wondered how he was going to get out of this. And back to you.
Sipping his coffee, Seokjin starts at him sharply, Yoongi looking past him at the paint chipping on the wall, and Hoseok’s mouth parted in surprise.
“For fuck’s sake, Namjoon, what else are you hiding from us? I don’t even know who you are anymore,” Hoseok’s voice rises, ignoring Yoongi’s warning to keep it down. 
“Kim doesn’t know he’s here,” Yoongi seethes, and Namjoon pauses. They hadn’t told his father?
Looking at Yoongi, he knows he can always count on him to be the voice of reason, to work through the hundreds of questions Namjoon has.
“Are they safe?” The most important thing.
Yoongi nods his affirmation. “For now.”
Looking at the three men, men who he’s known for most of his life, Namjoon finally lets himself feel the anger that’s been building inside of him. Everything had been fine, he’d been happy. Why’d they have to fuck it all up?
“Then do you mind telling me what the fuck I’m doing here?”
“Should’ve left his ungrateful ass on the streets, Hobi,” Seokjin quips. “Ahn’s man would’ve taken care of him when he came to.”
At the mention of Ahn again, Namjoon looks at Yoongi curiously. “I thought we had a deal with the Ahns. Why were they roaming around our territory, looking for trouble?”
Yoongi pushes the chair towards him, beckoning him to join them at the table. Namjoon takes the seat uncertainly, pleading with them to finally answer his queries.
“We have a lot to talk about.”
. . .
Your father is dying. Seokjin’s words have been echoing ceaslessly in the back of Namjoon’s mind, ever since he uttered them an hour ago. We need you.
The news brings Namjoon more relief than he’d cared to admit. Kim Yonghyun had never been much of a father to him anyway. His own mother had known better than he did, vanishing when Namjoon was twelve, never to be heard from again. She was still out there somewhere, hopefully where Yonghyun couldn’t find her.
Looking out the window, he looks out onto the courtyard of the compound, the bars on his window reminding him that this was the same prison he’d run away from years ago. Even if his room was still pristine and untouched, like it was waiting for him to come back. Even if Hoseok had still brewed him a cup of his favorite espresso after Namjoon had coldly refused to talk further about Hyun.
His own son was named after the monster who created him, and Namjoon wonders if he’d ever truly been able to let his past go. Or if it’d always remained, a black stain hiding under the disguise he’d created for himself, the false life he’d built. The one that was now about to come crumbling down.
He’s driven our organization to shit, Hoseok had said. Starting careless disputes with the other families, engaging in pointless violence. We need a better leader, a stronger one.
They needed him to finally step up to onto the pedestal they’d created for him, to accept his legacy with open arms. If you’d asked him seven years ago, Namjoon would have vehemently refused, convinced that there was a better life for him out there, one where he could live freely and be a normal kid who went to college, who fell in love, who got married and bought a house. Now, he wasn’t sure if those had been dreams or delusions.
He needed to talk to you.
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It’s not even a day later when you hear the distinctive clink of Namjoon’s keys at the door, Hyun babbling at the table. 
The soft thud of his shoes at the entryway feels like the loudest sound you’ve ever heard, heavier than the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. 
“APPA!” Hyun screeches with joy, his chubby arms reaching out for Namjoon’s longer ones. 
“Hyunnie,” Namjoon’s eyes crinkle in adoration, lifting him up out of the high chair swinging him around. Hyun’s delighted giggles echo, Namjoon’s soft chuckles accompanying them, and for a moment, it feels like everything is back to normal. But it isn’t. 
You don’t lift your eyes to look up at Namjoon, and he notices. Pressing a kiss to Hyun’s hair, he sets him down.
“Hyunnie, go play with your toys. Appa needs to talk to Mama for a few minutes.”
“Hyunnie miss you Appa. Pleez don’t leave again.” And with that he waddles off, leaving the air heavy in between you both. 
Namjoon takes a seat next to you at the table, watching the way your throat bobs like you’re trying not to cry, and he feels tears of his own spring forth. 
“___,” he reaches for your hand, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb, and that’s when you explode into quiet sobs, praying that Hyun can’t hear you from the other room.
Namjoon’s arms wrap around you in an instant, stroking your back until the sobs subside, urging you to take deep breaths, and finally you’re ready. 
You reach behind you to grab for something, and Namjoon pales when you push a folder with a stack of papers his way, his worst nightmare coming true. 
“No,” Namjoon protests, refusing to open the folder. “Absolutely not. Why are you doing this?”
“You lied to me Namjoon,” you declare firmly, doing your best to overcome the wobble in your voice. “Or is that even your real name?”
All the blood rushes out from Namjoon’s face at your accusation, wondering what you found out, what you knew now, and he aches with the regret that he never got to tell you himself. 
He’d been thinking about this moment for years, about what he’d do if this ever happened, and despite the thousands of theorized and calculated ways he’d settled on going about his explanation, he chokes back a sob. A needy, desperate feeling overcomes him, one that tells him that this isn’t it, that this can’t be the end.
“What are you saying ___? Are you calling me a liar? Look at me.”
He lifts your face up to his, searching your eyes for a spark of emotion, anything that would convince him you didn’t mean what you said, but all he finds are hollow pools of emptiness.
“I’m still Namjoon. I’m your husband, I’m Hyun’s father. This, this is all real. What we have is real. I’m begging you, please, please don’t throw it away like this.”
You take a moment to respond, knowing that what you have to say will be the end of this, will probably drive a stake through the spectacle that had been your marriage, and you feel less guilty when you remember that he did this first. That while all you’d ever been was honest, loving him with everything you had, he’d kept secrets from you. He’d put you and Hyun in danger.
“Is it drugs, then?” Namjoon recoils, feeling his stomach drop. “Or do you fuck with people’s money instead, putting them in helpless situations just for a couple hundred dollars you need to survive? I always used to wonder, why it felt like even though I was your wife, I never knew you properly. Never knew anything about your past. I thought it was because you had some kind of unresolved trauma. But that’s bullshit. You’ve been the one traumatizing people for years. You and the rest of your friends.”
You knew who he was, the legacy he came from. He doesn’t even need to ask how you found out. You’d always been the smartest woman he’d every known, putting together the most complex mathematical formulas. All you needed was a hint. Yoongi and Seokjin had fed it right to you.
“This isn’t fair,” he chokes out. “You don’t know anything about the other side of things, ___. You can’t even imagine what I’ve had to go through, why I’ve had to do what I do. I did it for you!”
“Stop saying that!” you cry out. “Stop it, please. If you really wanted to protect me, if you really wanted to protect Hyun, you would have left. You wouldn’t have brought this darkness into our home. Do you know what could happen to him, Namjoon? He’s only three years old!”
At your outburst, Hyun comes running into the kitchen, his face falling when he sees his Mama’s eyes red with tears. 
“Mama,” he reaches out for you, and you pull him onto your lap, holding him in a death grip, because you’re afraid of what will happen to him if you let go.
“Mama, no crying peez, Appa came back,” he wipes a tear from your face, and Namjoon’s heart breaks into two. Hyun didn’t know that it was his fault. You gently stroke his dark hair, whispering in his ear to go up to his room and change, and that you’ll come by for a bedtime story soon. You say nothing when Hyun asks for Namjoon to come up too, and Namjoon knows tonight will be his last night ever spent in his home.
When Hyun leaves, he reaches back out for you, but you slap his arm away.
“___, please, there’s no need to overreact. I can explain everything, just please, please don’t push me away. I need you.”
The last sentence comes out in the form of a sob, and Namjoon wishes more than anything that you’d hold him right now, that you’d stay by his side while things fell apart around him.
“Do you know what the worst part of this is, Namjoon? I’ve been staring at my phone for days, trying to summon up the courage to say something, to call the police, to ruin you. But I can’t. Because there’ll always be some sick, twisted part of me that loves you. But I don’t want you to lie anymore. I want you to leave.”
Namjoon’s shoulders slump in defeat, and his voice shakes.
“Is there nothing I can say to convince you to fix this?”
“No.”
“Okay,” Namjoon accepts. “I’ll go.”
You don’t say a word to him as he pads out of the kitchen, slipping his coat over his shoulders and tying his shoes. He wonders if he should stop in and say goodbye to Hyun, but decides against him. His son would hate him eventually for what he did, and if Namjoon had learned anything from running away from home, a clean break was best. He hopes that the two of you can live peacefully now, no longer burdened by the demons he’s had to shoulder.
As he slips out the door, he hears your voice, so quiet that he’s almost not convinced it’s real.
“Thank you.”
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Hoseok is awake when Namjoon returns, red-eyed and aching, drunk off one too many glasses of whiskey. He says nothing at first when Namjoon collapses onto the seat across of him, but eventually he can’t hold back.
“The old man wants to talk to you in the morning.” 
It feels like another punch to Namjoon’s gut, having to face his father after losing you. He feels like a laughingstock, hearing his father’s mocking words in the back of his mind, calling him weak, sentimental, a fool.
For the first time in his life, Namjoon agrees with him. When he was a boy, he’d dreamt of a life away from the city’s underbelly, one that wasn’t governed by the shackles of duty and tradition. His mother leaving had only fueled his desire to seek an out. Because Namjoon didn’t want to commit himself to a life of lies, violence, and deceit. 
He knew that Yoongi, Hoseok, and Seokjin operated outside of the frame and that the work they did was illegal. To them, the Kims had always been about being the shining paragon of the city’s scum. Their deals with the cops to keep trouble off the streets had worked for decades, but now it seemed like just like Namjoon’s own life, his father’s empire was collapsing. He knew Yonghyun was growing senile with his old age, and Namjoon shivers when he thinks of how bad things had gotten for them to come looking for him again.
As he ponders, Hoseok studies him curiously, remarking that the Namjoon that sat before him now looked nothing like his clumsy childhood friend who’d always raved about poetry and or school. Namjoon had always been the best of them, a bright star amongst a sea of dark mercenaries. But now, he looked completely worn, ready to submit to a fate he’d never wanted.
“Do you really hate us that much, Namjoon-ah?” Hoseok asks quietly, and Namjoon gulps, unable to answer him. His head was pounding. 
Hoseok knew Namjoon had snuck out to see you, and for the first time, he realizes how little he actually knows the man who he used to call his best friend. He assumed at first that is was some kind of magic pussy that kept Namjoon in a chokehold for so long, but seeing him now, he can’t help but think it’s something deeper.
Hoseok had never really known love growing up. He couldn’t even say he loved the fiancée his parents had chosen for him. But he had an inkling that love was what destroyed Namjoon’s life, what turned him into the shell of a man sitting before him.
He’d do anything to get his old friend back.
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“Hyunnie, please let go of Mama, please,” you beg your screaming son, snot and spit soaking the side of your blazer as he balls his tiny fists into the fabric, refusing to go with the daycare teacher. 
He hadn’t understood Namjoon’s departure at first, asking you every day if he was coming home, if he’d been working too much. You didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth, so you lied, saying Namjoon was away on a trip. He’d believed you for a while, but Hyun was as smart as Namjoon.
Now, he realized his father wasn’t coming back, and it only meant he clung on tighter to you. It broke your heart that Hyun thought you’d ever leave him. You wondered if he’d hate you should he ever find out you sent Namjoon away. 
Summoning up the urge to peel Hyun off of you, you press a dozen kisses to his tear-stained cheeks, his tiny sniffles sending pangs of guilt through you. The daycare teacher smiles sympathetically at you, before luring Hyun away with a book, and you muster a tiny grin at his somewhat excited face. He was Namjoon’s son, through and through.
The thought of Namjoon sends a jolt of pain across your temples, and you resist the urge to cry in public, knowing you had a sea of tears stored. You thought you knew what you were doing, ending things between you two, but you’d never imagined how impossibly hard it would be doing everything alone. 
Namjoon had been your partner in every way. He’d shouldered every burden with you equally, and celebrated every happiness. To have it all stop so suddenly felt more overwhelming than you could put into words.
It felt like your life had come to standstill, the man you’d left behind taunting you, while the future remained dark and murky. You’d do your best for Hyun, of course, but you didn’t know if you’d every truly be able to recover.
You’re young, you have your whole life ahead of you. You can still have a happy life, meet someone new, fall in love again.
Yoongi’s words echo in the back of your mind, and you want to tell him just how wrong he was, but the sight of someone leaning against your car stops you.
Your shocked face stares into Namjoon’s dark eyes, and you feel the ground slip out from underneath you. Namjoon’s arms are out before you can even topple over, catching you. He looks taller, his hair longer, wearing what looks like an expensive designer suit, the fabric more fine than anything you’ve seen before.
He looks at you with concern, studying for any signs that you’re sick, or hurt. When he’s satisfied with your overall condition, he finally speaks.
“I’m not going to take up too much of your time, I swear. I have some things to do after this.”
You wonder what things he’s referring to, and decide you don’t want to know. 
“I just,” he starts, but pauses mid-way, shoulders slumping. “I just wanted to see you again. And Hyun. I’m sorry ___.”
You give a subtle nod, but no indication that you have any sympathy for him, and turn to leave. Before you can get into the car, he spins you towards him again.
“My real name is Kim Namjoon. Not Kang. I shouldn’t even be telling you this, but my father’s name is Kim Yonghyun. You don’t have to say anything, or respond, but you deserve to know.”
And then he lets you go.
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Tucking a sleeping Hyun into bed, you sit down on the couch, the bright glare of your laptop hurting your eyes. Opening Google, you type in Kim Yonghyun, and your mouth gapes in shock. 
The articles about the Kim family go back for decades. They’re not just a lowlife gang, they’re an entire organization. Yonghyun was their current leader, and Namjoon was his son. Heir to a criminal legacy. Your gut twists as you click more articles, names popping up that were familiar to you - Lee, Ahn, Song. These people owned over half the city. They were everywhere, infiltrating your daily life. And you’d fallen in love with one of them. Suddenly, parts of Namjoon’s past begin to click for you. The way he’d been so desparate to have a normal college experience, dragging you out to a bar with him. The way he’d put his entire soul into doing well at his classes, interviewing for jobs. You’d always told him to slow down, that the two of you had many years to figure it out, but for Namjoon, figuring it out was difference between life and death. 
You wonder if your kind, gentle husband who loved books and stopped for tiny animals on the side of the road had ever killed a man.
Slamming your laptop shut, you curl up in the blankets of the couch, hoping that tonight Namjoon wouldn’t chose to visit you in your dreams again.
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Namjoon frowns, looking over the stack of files that Seokjin had unceremoniously dumped on his desk. Unbelievable. His father had him reading through twenty years’ worth of documents on the organization, everything from the code of honour to the accounts. The old man didn’t trust him.
His glasses slide down his nose, and he rubs at his temples. Disappearing without a trace hadn’t been his finest move.
“This look suits you,” Seokjin snickers from across the table, and Namjoon scowls. “You look like a proper godfather.”
“Shut it,” Namjoon grumbles, and Seokjin’s smile only grows wider.
“Only like being called daddy, huh?” he quips, and Namjoon’s ears go red. Fuck Seokjin and his merciless teasing.
“Oh my god, don’t tell me—” Seokjin looks at him with wide eyes, and Namjoon holds up a hand to cut him off.
“One more word, hyung, and you’ll wish you kept your stupidly perfect mouth shut.”
“So,” Seokjin ignores him completely, spinning around in his office chair. “What’s the grand plan, Godfather Kim? You gonna take over for Yonghyun or what?” 
Namjoon doesn’t respond, and Seokjin leans over the table.
“Is it really that bad, Namjoon? Our org is more well-run than most of the other lowlifes on the streets. You have everything here - unlimited respect, unlimited bitches, unlimited money.”
“There’s more to life than bitches and money, hyung.” And Seokjin rolls his eyes.
“God, you and Yoongi are the exact same. You get married and turn into huge simps. So, tell me about her.”
Namjoon looks up, prepared to tell Seokjin that he’s not in the mood for his jokes, but the look in the older man’s eyes is sincere, like he genuinely wants to know.
“___ is,” Namjoon begins. “She’s everything to me. Before I met her, I didn’t know one person could change your entire life. After I ran away, I wondered if I made the right decision, about whether leaving this all behind was worth it. But she, she made it worth it. She and Hyun are the best things that have ever happened to me.” 
Namjoon closes the file, rising abruptly. Running into you had been an impulsive decision, and he hadn’t fully prepared himself for the rush of emotions he felt seeing you again. Your hair still smelt like the jasmine shampoo you used, the bags under your eyes darker and your clothes a little rumpled, but his body still responded in the same way it had when you’d shyly kissed him when he dropped you off after a study date so many years ago. And he felt guilty.
“Namjoon-ah, I’m sorry.” Seokjin’s words make him turn sharply. “We didn’t want to drag them into this, I swear.”
“What do I do hyung?” Namjoon holds back a sob. “I lost her.”
“You’re a smart guy, Namjoon-ah. You’ll figure things out. You always have.”
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The knock on the door startles you awake, and you nearly fall out of bed looking at the time on the alarm clock. 12:03am. Quietly slipping into your house shoes, you check on Hyun, afraid something had happened to your baby. A deep sigh of relief escapes when you see him nestled in his crib, sleeping peacefully with one fist curled up into a tiny ball.
Padding down the stairs, you look at the various pictures on the wall - photos of you and Namjoon and Hyun throughout the years. Your graduation photos, your engagement photos, your wedding, Hyun’s first birthday. Memories that had been destroyed in the blink of an eye. The crushing realization hits you that you aren’t sure if you’ll be able to keep this house anymore. What’s worse is that you realize you may not want to either. 
You peek through the doorhole, paling when you see Namjoon on the other end, and you’re sure he knows you’re currently behind the door. Throwing the door open, you take in his disheveled appearance, suit rumpled and hair sticking up in every direction, Yoongi right behind him.
“I–, I’m sorry,” he stutters. “I just wanted to see Hyun. Five minutes, that’s all.”
“He’s asleep,” you clarify, wanting him to leave as quickly as possible. “Now is not a good time.”
“Please,” he begs, his eyes misting, and you move without thinking, stepping aside to let him in.
Behind him, Yoongi follows, back in your home for the second time in as many months, and you watch his eyes flicker to the various portraits that line the walls and sit on top of the tables.
Namjoon climbs up the stairs, and you don’t know why you decide to follow along, intruding on the private moment as he disappears into Hyun’s nursery.
“Hyunnie,” his low voice echoes into the emptiness of the room. “How are you buddy? You’ve grown so much since the last time I saw you.”
The heaviness in Namjoon’s voice makes it clear to you that he’s crying, and your arms itch to wrap around him, to comfort him. He wasn’t a terrible father.
Namjoon stares at the cot for a few moments longer, never making a move to reach for Hyun, and then he turns and makes his way out, stopping in the hallway.
“Thank you—”
“Do you want a cup of tea?” you blurt out. 
Nodding silently, Namjoon follows you down to the kitchen, Yoongi appearing shocked that he doesn’t seem to be heading straight for the door.
“Both of you sit, please. I’ll make some tea.”
You get to work, pots and pans clattering as you swear under your breath, trying to keep the volume down so you don’t disturb Hyun.
Yoongi’s sharp eyes peer across the table at Namjoon, and he nods, subtly willing Namjoon to break the not so awkward silence.
“My father, I mean, I, uh-, I have some money set aside for Hyun’s college fund.”
Yoongi’s neutral stare turns into daggers, and Namjoon grows even more flustered.
“I don’t want to take your money.” You set the tea mugs on the table, pulling up a chair, the only sound the be heard the occasional slurp of the hot beverage.
“___, is there nothing I can do to make this work? I want to fix this.”
His plea surprises even Yoongi, who turns to look at your reaction. You remain frozen, mouth agape, before firmly nodding your head.
“I can’t trust you Namjoon. You lied to them, you lied to me for so many years. That doesn’t just go away.”
“I know. It won’t go away, but it doesn’t have to. But maybe we can put these pieces back together, use them to build a stronger foundation. Like kintsugi.”
The mention of the golden seams fills you with a warmth you didn’t think was possible to feel again. You look down at the mug you’d picked out, and a small smile graces your face when you see that it’s the one he repaired for you in the same way right after you’d dropped it during your first week in the house.
The conversation suddenly feels too suffocating, to intimate for your weary-eyed self in the dead of the night. There was a lot the two of you had to work through, things that could take years to properly unpack. Could you condemn yourself to that nightmare? Could you subject Hyun to the pain of two parents who had a hard time being in the same room? You weren’t sure it was worth it. But you also knew that Namjoon would keep turning up, using Hyun as an excuse or blaming a coincidence, just so he could convince you again. 
“We should get some sleep,” you put the mug down, your soft steps echoing as you walk out, leaving the two men alone, but not before you hear Yoongi’s hushed voice.
“College fund? Really?” 
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The recoil of the shot rings in Namjoon’s ears as he watches the bullet whiz through the air, missing the target completely and lodging itself into the wall. He lets out a heavy sigh, the empty weapon falling from his hands.
“Great job, Namjoon-hyung. You were so close! You’ll definitely make it next time.” The doe-eyed boy next to him bounces with pent-up energy, patting him on the back. Jeon Jungkook was every bit the son that Yonghyun deserved. He, along with new recruits to the Kim clan, his cousin Taehyung and Park Jimin, were the sons that Yonghyun always deserved. Never missing a mark. Never fucking up a mission. Never running away from anything. Namjoon doesn’t have the heart to tell Jungkook he missed on purpose. Not because he sucked, but because he was a coward. The pressure from his father had been mounting for him to finally prove himself worthy of the Kim lineage, and to send him out on a mission. Namjoon had accepted with reservations in his heart - no longer sure where his life was taking him.
The good news was you started to let him visit Hyun, Namjoon slipping through the door at the middle of the night to stroke his son’s hair. He could feel your eyes watching him from the nursery door, but you never came inside. 
He thinks back to his last visit a few days ago.
He’d been brave enough to press a kiss to Hyun’s chubby face, his cheeks puffing out as he stirred slightly, which was Namjoon’s cue to back away. Until he heard it.
Come back Appa, the tiny voice whimpered, and Namjoon had never walked faster out of Hyun’s room, tears clinging to his lashes until he bumped into your frozen figure outside. Your cheeks were wet with tears too, and Namjoon didn’t stop himself from wrapping his arms around you, sobbing into your shoulder, the two of you staying like that longer than he could count.
When you finally separated, a choked whimper escaped you, like you wanted to say something, but instead, you turned on your heel, sprinting towards what was once your shared bedroom. The soft thud of the door slamming shut had been the end of that.
“Jeon, can I steal him for a second?” Yoongi comes up behind him, clapping Namjoon on the back. He’s not alone. His wife, who Namjoon had known well throughout their childhood, is behind him, the two of them looking at him with a mischevious glint in their eyes.
“You’ll never believe who we ran into just now,” Yoongi’s wife laughs, and Namjoon tilts his head in confusion.
She launches into an animated discussion about how she’d seen ___ and Hyun while touring a a daycare for Hana, Yoongi’s daughter.
“She’s wonderful Namjoon, why haven’t you ever introduced us?” Namjoon looks to Yoongi for support, but the other man just smirks, placing a reassuring hand on his wife’s back.
“Don’t worry dear, I have a feeling we’ll see Namjoon and ____ together sooner than we’ll think,” reaching for his phone.
Namjoon’s own phone pings with the notification of a text, and he looks down to see that Yoongi has sent him a discreet picture of ____ and Hyun, smiling happily as they talked to his wife, and he breathes a sigh of relief. The way you talked to them with ease puts a small glimmer of hope in his chest, that maybe with time, with convincing, you could be okay with this. Okay with him. And that the three of you could be happy again.
He’d keep fighting for you both. He had to.
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Shivering, you shake tiny droplets from your hair as you step inside, the stark, white walls of the gallery as uninviting as the outside climate. You chatter your teeth and rub your arms in an attempt to warm up. Hyun was at daycare, and part of you felt guilty for leaving him there when you knew you didn’t have any work meetings today, but you needed time alone. To think. 
The receptionist greets you with a warm smile, excitedly telling you all about their latest exhibit, and you smile and nod politely, eager to get away from her chipper presence, and to bask in your own gloom. You could have done anything else today - caught up on paperwork, tackled the massive pile of laundry that sat in your room, had a treat-yourself session at the mall, but something compelled you to come and see the new gallery that had opened in the city. Sighing, you realize it’s probably because Namjoon would have loved it, and you missed seeing the way his eyes twinkled when he saw a piece he liked, standing behind you and sending goosebumps all along your arm when he whispered the meaning into your ear.
Half the time, the comments would quickly stray away from the art, and turn to the way he couldn’t wait to get his hands on you at home, to tear your clothes off, to have you screaming under him while he made you forget your own name. Another shiver hits you, but this time, it’s not from the cold. 
Shoes clacking, you step into the open space, the paintings arranged neatly along the wall, and you pick one to study.
The interlocking lines and the bold geometric patterns kept you busy, your eyes flitting from corner to corner, head swimming with thoughts about the tricks the painting seemed to be playing. They looked like they went on forever, creating a grid, or a map, that careened off the canvas, trailing off into infinity. It made you feel even more lonely, a mere speck in this huge world, full of so many things you were unaware of. 
“It’s called Nucleus,” a voice calls out from behind you. One that you knew all too well. You turn to see Namjoon, his hair equally soaked and heavy coat dripping onto the floor. You should have known he’d be interested in the exhibit. It wasn’t like mafia bosses existed outside the realm of humanity.
You want to back away as he comes closer, but remain frozen in place.
“The lines and patterns are supposed to draw your eyes to every corner, make you study the entire painting, but it’s a trick of course. All that really matters is how they come together in the center, creating a focal point of attention. A nucleus. An omphalos. A heart.”
You look up at him, sucking in a sharp breath, and you want to be alone, somewhere private, somewhere he couldn’t see you break down from all the pain, all the hurt that you’d put the two of yourselves through.
Namjoon senses you’re about to leave before you do, and he already slips an arm around your waist, stopping you in your tracks.
“It’s raining. Let me drop you home.”
Gulping, you nod your agreement, his hand never leaving it’s place on your waist as the two of you step out into the deluge.
. . . 
Rain always scared you. You hated how dark it made everything seem, the eerie shadows it would cast through the blinds of your home, the loud crackle of thunder that would wake Hyun up with a sob. 
Namjoon, on the other hand, loved the rain. It reminded him that the world wasn’t monolithic, that it was ever-changing. It helped him realize that he didn’t have to be forced into a role he didn’t want to play, that while it poured outside, new life could be born and could blossom.
The two of you come to a pause outside the doorstep, Namjoon’s eyes mirroring the storm outside, full of uncertainty. You were sure you were the same, the two of you mirroring each other, but no longer having the same nucleus to pivot around.
Namjoon holds his breath, wanting a few more moments with you to remember, before fate would inevitably set you on your separate ways again. He can smell the dew collecting on the grass, but there’s also the fragrance of your shampoo, and he observes the way the droplets collect on the tip of your nose, before dropping down to wet your lips.
You surge forward, seeking his lips, and Namjoon stumbles for a brief second, before his arm comes up to wrap around you, meeting you halfway. You feel dizzy, clinging onto his warmth like it’s an anchor, keeping you from floating away from this moment.
The solid wood behind you falls away when Namjoon wrestles with the doorknob, the two of you slipping and sliding into the entryway, Namjoon’s tongue becoming more insistent, and a low whine escapes from the back of your throat.
The two of you part, soaked and trembling, and Namjoon rests his forehead to yours. You can feel his hot breath fan against your cheeks, now flushed from the cold, and you realize your fists are still balled into the heavy material of his jacket. 
Heat rises in your chest, and you feel like a livewire, tingling at the mere thought of having Namjoon so close to you again. You knew this was a bad idea, that it would complicate everything, but you didn’t have it in you to care, heart skipping a beat when Namjoon pulls you back in, seeking your lips once more.
The coat falls to the floor in no time at all, and you can’t stop your hands from roaming everywhere, Namjoon’s damp shirt doing nothing to hide the body you knew so well, the one you’d probably never forget.
His thumbs slip underneath the hem of your shirt, tracing circles into the top of your hips, you whine even louder.
Moments later, the scratchy sheets of the bed meet your back, Namjoon setting you down softly, reaching over his head to take off his soaked clothes. Sighing, you reach for his hands, the warm fingertips slipping through your cold ones easily, and pull him towards you, limbs tangling together in desperation. Your skirt slips up to your waist, exposing your soaked panties, and Namjoon’s hands settle on your thighs, gripping them hard enough to leave marks, and dips his head down to leave soft kisses on your core.
“Say it,” he begs. “Say you want me.”
“I n-need you, Joon, need to feel you, fuck–” 
You moan when he pushes the fabric to the side, flicking his tongue against your folds, and your hands reach for his hair, tugging at the strands while he groans underneath.
“Fuck, I missed the way you taste, always so good for me,” he groans, slipping a finger in to circle around your clit, and you writhe against him, unable to take the teasing. 
“Does my pretty girl want me to fuck her?” He groans into your pussy, arms flexing to keep you spread out underneath him, and you babble incoherently, unable to put your desire into words. All you knew was that you never wanted this moment to end.
When you feel yourself teetering on the brink, body flushing with anticipation, it all stops. Panting, you look at Namjoon, his dark eyes surveying you hungrily, and a shiver makes its way down your spine.
“Ride me, baby,” he orders.
Peeling the rest of your wet clothes off, you watch Namjoon settle into the pillows, like he never left at all, and it makes your heart lurch. His hand reaches for yours when you climb back over him, hips straddling his thighs, and he presses it to his chest, right above where his heart beats, hissing when he slips into you.
You rock against him slowly, gently, your heavy breathing the only sound amidst the backdrop of rain, and his hands reach for you, roaming over every bit of your body, light touches that drive you wild. Leaning back, you anchor yourself on the sheets, allowing him to roll his hips upward, the two of you moving in tandem.
“Mine,” he sighs, cupping your ass. “All mine.”
“Yours,” you echo, walls clenching around him when he began to slowly rub circles on your clit, tears stinging your eyes.
His other hand reaches for your neck, pulling you in to wipe the tears away with the pad of his thumb, his eyes never leaving yours as you fall apart around him, Namjoon’s thrusts speeding up as he groans into your shoulder, your arms drawing circles into his back as he spills inside of you.
Lifting you off of him, his arms reach around your body to press you against him, his lips ghosting your forehead, and you feel a wet trail of tears on his cheeks as the words spill out, and he tells you everything.
Tells you about growing up with a father who belittled and abused him for being weak, about his mother who left when he was a teen, about Seokjin, Yoongi, and Hoseok, his friends who he feels like he’d abandoned. He tells you that he’s not sure what the right thing is anymore, not sure who needs him more – the city or his family, and how he feels so fucking lost all the time. He rambles until his voice becomes thick with fatigue, slowly eventually to the deep breaths you’d come to know beside you for yours, and you wrap his arms tighter around you. 
When you wake up in the morning, he’s gone.
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Namjoon’s head pounds with guilt as he follows his father into the car, the tinted windows obscuring his plight from the world around him. Behind him, Yoongi and Hoseok look on with sharp eyes, guns belted into their holsters, preparing themselves for the imminent shitshow that was about to arise.
The problem was, it had already begun the moment Namjoon kissed you last night. His mind runs through the countless memories he’d stored from that night, from your soft lips to the sharp cries of pleasure that he’d wrought from you, and decides that he’s even more fucked now.
Looking at his phone, his thumb hovers over the text you’d sent him, one that was definitely borne from anger at seeing an empty bed when you woke up.
I’m leaving with Hyun in a week. Please don’t come and see us again.
Sighing, he decides to focus on the car moving to quell his nausea, to keep back the bile that rises in his throat. He had to hold it together in front of Yonghyun. If he messed this up now, he’d have nothing left.
. . .
Taking the receipt from the bank teller, you survey the amount of money withdrawn, praying it’s enough for you to start somewhere new with Hyun, your heart breaking at the thought of finally leaving Namjoon for good. You’re one foot out the door when you hear a voice behind you.
“___? Is that you?” Turning, you’re met with the handsome face of Kim Seokjin, looking grim-faced in a black suit.
Ignoring him, you keep walking. You wanted nothing to do with him, nothing to do with Namjoon anymore. 
“___, please, please wait,” he stops you with a hand on your arm, beckoning you to sit with him. The two of you make your way to a secluded bench in a park, and Seokjin stares at you, before sighing in defeat, realizing you weren’t going to talk.
“Yonghyun is taking Namjoon to make a deal with the Lees today,” he looks out at the people strolling by. “It’s a test for him – if Namjoon does well, he’ll become the leader. These types of things usually go one of two ways - either we handle it, or becomes a bloodbath.”
“Good for him,” you grit through your teeth, ignoring the way your heart does a flip. “It seems like that’s what he wanted all along.”
“I’m not here to talk to you about Namjoon,” he says somberly. “Whatever happened is between him and you, it’s not my place to interfere.”
“Look,” you say with a clipped voice, “Can we cut this bullshit? What do you want Seokjin? You can’t convince me to go back to him.”
“I’m here to tell you about me,” he says, his eyes trained to the ground. “About my story.”
“What makes you think I want to hear anything about you?” you say, instantly regretting how rude it sounded.
“You probably don’t, but I always do this. Whenever I have this random feeling like everything might go to shit, I find the most random person I can think of, and tell them about Kim Seokjin. It makes me feel like less of a petty criminal, and more of a human, like someone people would want to remember. Sometimes it’s the ahjumma who runs a fruit stand, or the ahjusshi on his way to work. Sometimes it’s a bored kid. Today, I just happened to find you.”
He offers you a sip of his coffee, and you politely decline.
“I guess I should start at the beginning,” he chuckles. “I’ve known Namjoon since before he could walk. My father was his right hand man, but my parents were killed when I was young. Namjoon’s family took me in, and soon enough Yoongi and Hoseok joined our little circle. We were the best of friends’ thick as thieves, and for a while we were happy, but then Namjoon’s mother left.”
Your mind flits back to Namjoon’s hurried conversation in bed, babbling about how his mother had enough, about how she had to go.
“Namjoon was nothing like his father. He was everything like her, and the moment he saw that Yonghyun had pushed her away, had turned her into an unhappy shell, he grew restless. I always knew he’d leave us one day, that he’d try to carve out his own path.”
“Yoongi and Hoseok were bitterly upset, they couldn’t believe him. I couldn’t either. I mean, what kind of dork runs away from a multi-million dollar empire for a college education?”
You laugh hollowly at his joke, and he musters a small smile.
“It must have been about two weeks after he left. Or maybe it was a month. I’m not sure anymore. When you’re as old as I am, the days all start to blend together.”
“You don’t look a day past thirty,” you quip, and he snickers.
“It started with a girl,” he sighs. “Most things do. Contrary to what you think, even members of the mafia need our old wake me up call, and I stepped into a random coffee shop, and there she was. I flirted with her like an idiot, cracked my silly jokes, and it felt different from all the pointless hook-ups I had, from all the missions I’d spent with a gun strapped to my back chasing money. We started seeing each other.”
You look past him out onto the park, guilt permeating your body at his words. Was this how Namjoon had felt when he met you? Were you really worth leaving behind everything to him.
“A month later, she was dead. Shot outside the coffee shop after locking up one night. All because they knew she was associated with me. All because I was selfish, and only thought of myself. That’s when I realized there was no way out for any of us, except Namjoon.”
Shuddering, you think back to the years Namjoon spent shrouding the dark side of himself from the world outside, how difficult it must have been to carry this black mark on his back for so long.
“I fucking hated everything in that moment. I hated my family, I hated my friends, I hated this life, I hated her. But most of all, I hated myself for being a walking target on the backs of those I cared about the most. I couldn’t console her family, her co-workers, I couldn’t do anything. They all would have seen me as the monster who caused her death. All I could fucking do was go back to doing what I had always done.”
He rises suddenly, telling you that he has to go soon, but that he needs to finish, that there’s something you need to hear.
“There was one night, where I was wandering around, recklessly drunk, probably in a park like this. I felt like doing something stupid – maybe killing someone, maybe shouting into the void. And I saw him. Namjoon. With you.”
You freeze. You and Namjoon had gone to the park hundreds of times, sometimes walking through it at night, other times riding your bike through the day. A chill runs down your spine when it hits you how close the two of you had come to meeting, Namjoon’s two worlds colliding.
“I wasn’t spying on you, I’m not an asshole. But you guys were being all cutesy and shit, and it finally struck me that he was in love. He hadn’t run away out of some misguided sense of fear, or superiority. He just wanted to live a normal life, one that was full of happiness. I never told anyone I saw you two because I knew it’d blow up in his face. And mine too. But I guess it did anyway, huh?”
Tapping his foot anxiously, his hands begin to shake as he grows restless.
“I gotta go. But even if you don’t take Namjoon back, and I’m not telling you that you have to, I’m telling you there was something there worth fighting for. Namjoon’s not a stupid man, he knows how to set priorities, and he chose you. And Hyun. That has to mean something.”
He turns on his heels, and you feel your head throb, eyes misting with tears.
“Seokjin!” you call out to him, and he turns, looking at you curiously. Smiling at him, you let a tear trickle down your face. “In another world, do you think we could’ve been friends? All of us?”
He smirks, crossing his arms.
“Maybe. But we’ll never know, will we?”
And with that he walks away.
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Sweat trickles down Namjoon’s back as Yonghyun’s face grows redder, his screams becoming shriller. He can tell the Lees aren’t amused with his proposition to buy up more of their territory. His heart thuds in his ears, and he looks down the line to Yoongi, Hoseok, and Seokjin, who’d joined them recently. They all remain stone-faced, like they’d been through this before.
“Kim Yonghyun, you bought from us years ago and promised you’d double our investments,” Mr. Lee says calmly, and Namjoon fears him. “Instead, you’ve driven our businesses into the ground. Our partnership isn’t working anymore, we see no reason not to forfeit it.”
Every one of the Kims tenses around him, their shoulders slumping in defeat, mournful at the ruination of their empire. Namjoon, on the other hand, sighs in relief. This was it, he could finally be free from everything tying him down, he could make it right with you.
“You can take the boy,” Yonghyun says, nodding towards his son, and Namjoon’s blood runs cold. “Marry him off to one of your daughters. He’s of no use to us anyway.”
“NO!” Namjoon interrupts him, and Yonghyun cackles at his panicked face, his withered arm reaching for Namjoon, offering him up to the Lees.
Namjoon squirms in his father’s tight grip, the Lees looking on in horror, and Yonghyun groans.
“God, shut up, you stupid boy!” he howls. “I’m sick of you.”
And his arms close around Namjoon’s neck.
Namjoon’s lungs burn as he squeezes, the blood rushing out of his head, and the sounds around him become muffled, his father’s screams of delight the only thing he can hear as his vision becomes spotty.
Until a shot rings out,, followed by another and Namjoon feels his father slump forward, choking on blood as the two of them thud to the ground.
“Namjoon-ah,” Hoseok screams. “Are you with us, shit, shit, shit! Yoongi, help me, goddamnit.”
Together, the two of them pry Yonghyun off of him, and Namjoon regains enough clarity to see Kim Seokjin in front of him, smoke coming from the end of his pistol while he clutches his chest, the white of his shirt seeped in blood. Seokjin gives him a nod, and turns to leave, his footsteps echoing on the concrete stairs.
“We need to get you to a hospital, fuck,” Hoseok sobs, clutching Namjoon for dear life, and they carry him out. 
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Stirring, Namjoon rubs his eyes sleepily, the beep of a heart monitor and the IV attached to his arm telling him he’s in the hospital. Blinking, he focuses enough to figure out he’s alone, the only other person in the room the nurse who charts down his vitals.
“Are you feeling better, dear?” the kind voice asks, and Namjoon’s heart drops to his stomach. He’d know that voice anywhere.
“Eomma?” he croaks, turning to look at a face he hasn’t seen in years. She looks the exact same as the day she left.
“Namjoon-ah?” she whispers, her eyes looking him up and down like she can’t believe it. “Is it really you?”
She lets out a sob, coming to hug him, and he winces when she presses into his body.
“Oh I’m sorry, I forgot your arm was sprained,” she blubbers, and he doesn’t say anything, surveying her.
“You were here this whole time?” he says, voice breaking. “Why didn’t you come back to us? Why didn’t you find me?”
“Because I never wanted to see you like this, Namjoon-ah. I was afraid, and I was scared. I left because I knew what your father was capable of. He made it his personal mission to turn the lives around him into a living hell, to the point where people didn’t even want to live anymore. I didn’t want to one day cradle your lifeless body in my hands, either because he’d had enough or because you’d had enough.”
Namjoons eyes fill with tears at seeing his mother, the only other woman in his life who’d shown him what it was like to chose himself, to chose happiness. Everything that he’d been through, everything he’d had with you, had been by her example.
“I kept tabs on you, though, I’d always look in the charts of nearby hospitals, looking for your name. It was a sign of relief every time I didn’t see it.”
“Will you stay with me, Eomma?” Namjoon asks, and she smiles sadly.
“Namjoon, I can’t—, if your father ever got word of me, he’d—”
“He’s dead,” Namjoon declares. “Seokjin killed him.”
His mother’s eyes widen in surprise, a tear leaking from them, and she collapses into sobs, shaking at his bedside. Her body is so withered, frail from so many years of abuse, and Namjoon holds her in his arms, whispering reassurances into her ear.
“You’re safe, Eomma. We both are.”
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Namjoon looks nervously at Yoongi and Hoseok, their nods encouraging him to go on, and he straightens the tie his mother had picked out. Making his way up the path to your door again, he prays that you and Hyun haven’t left yet. 
The door opens before he can even knock, Hyun’s tiny figure looking up at him with wide eyes, and Namjoon resists the urge to sob at how much he’d grown up in the past couple of months. 
“Hyunnie?” you call out to him, sounding exhausted. “Who’s at the door?”
When Hyun doesn’t answer, you decide to come check, only to find him wrapped in Namjoon’s arms, your son sobbing into his father’s shoulder. You freeze when you see his arm in a sling.
“Never gonna leave you again, bud,” he says, muffled into Hyun’s tiny shoulder.
“Namjoon? Why are you here? What’s going on? The Kims—”
“There are no Kims, ___. Not anymore. It’s over.”
You throw yourself against him, sobs wracking your body.
“I missed you, god I missed you so much, I was gonna go insane.”
Taking your hand in his, you look up at him, lifting them to press a kiss to his knuckles, and he smiles at you.
“Don’t leave me again, okay? Whatever you need to say you can it. I promise I’ll listen, and we can work through it.”
Gesturing for Hyun to come join you, he wraps you both in a tight hug, savoring it, until you lean close and whisper in his ears.
“You’re our nucleus, Namjoon.”
Namjoon realizes he’d never really been weak at all. Not like Yonghyun had seen him. And now, as the autumn leaves crackled on the lawn, and Hyun ran excitedly outside, jumping through them with Yoongi and Hoseok, he realized that there may come a time in his life where he’d have to choose again. And for all the times he could have committed himself to a life of doom, times that sought to tempt him with his worst nightmares, he’d come out of it choosing you every time. 
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Epilogue - 3 months later
“What do you mean he’s gone?” you look at Namjoon brows, furrowed in worry. Across the kitchen, Namjoon paces back and forth, feet clacking against the tile, as he resists the urge to rip his hair out.
In the distance, you can hear Hyun giggle, his halmeoni chasing him around the living room, and your eyes crinkle in a smile.
“Jungkook told me they haven’t been able to get a hold of him. Yoongi and Hoseok are up the wall.”
Rising from your seat, you try to calm your fretting husband, pressing a peck to his lips. You pout, and he sighs in resignation, knowing that it isn’t his problem to worry about. His hands come up to rest on your stomach, running over the tiny, firm bump that had brought forth new change into his life just two weeks ago.
“He’ll be fine, Namjoon,” you reassure him. “I know he will.”
“How?” Namjoon croaks out with worry, and you can’t blame him for his freakout.
“He’s Kim Seokjin, duh,” you deadpan, and Namjoon chuckles at your expression. “Now, stop this worrying, okay? I was promised matchamisu tonight, and I’m holding you to that.”
Accepting your hand, he lets you lead the way. Time for another date night.
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a/n pt. 2: thank you for joining me on this crazy ride! for reference, the artist Namjoon and OC are talking about is Lee Seung Jio, and his series called Nucleus. As always, any comments or feedback are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi <3
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kiachiako · 1 year
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april nct recs
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my library of favorites from APR <3 all creds to authors
[ sorted by word count ]
series
JAEMIN | better than your next (i'm the next) | @ddeonuism 11.9k [ part one ]
RENJUN | messenger | @dojunie — smau | You find a phone number written on the mirror of the Sulim Library's second floor bathroom. It’s scrawled messily across the glass in erasable expo marker, the handwriting underneath almost closer to hieroglyphics than lettering— and what you thought it read, was ‘SEND DUCK PICS FOR A GOOD TIME.’ (You suppose, in hindsight, it was a good thing this person’s penmanship was so shit— because if you knew what it really said, you might have never stumbled across the oddly intriguing inbox of one Huang Renjun.)
oneshots
[m] JAEHYUN | seeds of pomegranates | @anashins 29.5k — The day the god of the underworld steals you away, he expects to have found a timid wife to make his isolated life more bearable. Little does he know that the rose he picked from the garden called earth bears knives instead of thorns, and he might not have found a timid wife, but a queen with a heart as dark as his.
[m] JAEHYUN | hearts are won at practice | @angelwonie 21.2k — jung jaehyun is an obnoxious, way too handsome footballer whom you have no intention of getting to know. at least until a series of coincidences forces you to spend time with him, and you realize there might be more to him than what meets the eye.
CHENLE | potential | @rrxnjun 20k — rich kids au, childhood friends au, friends with benefits au. angst, fluff, suggestive | You saw his potential without seeing credentials. And maybe that's the issue.
[m] HAECHAN | monochrome | @sundaysundaes — Lee Donghyuck once believed in the concept of soulmates—how fate would connect a red thread from one lover to another, in a form of dreams and memories. That was how his parents met, that was how they claimed their happiness, and he wanted nothing more but to live his life the way they lived theirs. Until one day, as he sees her slipping away from his hands, he has no choice but to stop believing entirely.
CHENLE | i still love you | @xiaodejunletsact 17.4k — high school can be complicated. thats why when your crush of three years, zhong chenle, approaches you out of nowhere offering to drive you home you are right to question his intentions.
HAECHAN | free trial wedding style | @liliansun 10.6k — when a random, cute, guy comes up to you and practically asks for you to follow along, you do so without much thought. that is until you get home and see he’s your new neighbor who just might need your help a little more than you expected.
[m] HAECHAN + MARK | the girl is mine | @luvrkives 10.5k — mark and hyuck can't stop fighting over you. who fucks you better, who makes you laugh more, who you like most, who fucks you better, yada yada yada. but honestly, why argue when you would happily take them both?
JAEHYUN | love you goodbye | @serendipityseulgi 10.3k — the one with the story of dysfunctional love between you and jaehyun. aka, you both want different things and your love isn’t always enough.
[m] JOHNNY | color evasion | @ncteez 8.7k — or the one where you join a kink website and a specific dom’s profile catches your attention enough to actually meet him at a hotel and practically ignore your safe words bc man, he’s good. 
[m] HAECHAN + JAEHYUN | mine too | @waithyuck 7.5k — donghyuck x jaehyun x reader (f), smut, basically pwp
JAEHYUN | eye of affection | @aitarose 6.6k — for as long as he can remember, jaehyun’s world has been in black and white - giving him no reason to appreciate his mother’s profession as an artist and the beauties that art can provide. however, an accidental meeting with you gives him reason to doubt his former beliefs - proving to him that there may be true beauty in a world that’s void of everything bright, that beauty being the sunshine that you provide. 
HAECHAN | full of love (and stars) | @httplastic 6k — friends/roommates to lovers, light angst
[m] HAECHAN | unavoidable | @sunpopz 5.8k — after swearing to yourself you're done catching feelings for people; you meet someone who makes that incredibly difficult. you think you can avoid him... then you're assigned a final together.
RENJUN | hard to let go | @cinnajun 4.3k — your high school friend group had an ambiguous and messy end, and you never got any closure for anything. two years later, and lee donghyuck’s girlfriend lives on the same floor as you, and you’re forced to face huang renjun, whose abandonment hurt you the most.
HAECHAN | she's quiet | @ijuliet 3.4k — although you were not looking to make new friends, the ones you had tried their hardest to push you out of your comfort zone to find something abnormal for you. which is why you’re at a frat party on a thursday night, watching as lee donghyuck observes you from afar.
[m] HAECHAN | all bark no bite | @jjsneo 2.5k — lee haechan is the most annoying man you’ve ever encountered. but that doesn’t mean you don’t find him hot; and maybe that’s why he has you flat on his mattress one night at a random frat party.
JAEHYUN | in the rain | @sehunniepotwrites 1.9k — All this time, you were looking for love in the wrong places and in the wrong people. As a serial dater, you never thought you would find it in the pouring rain and in the person you trusted the most. 
. . .
ur fav recs n fics blog is back hehe | happy reading <3
xoxo
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raainberry · 2 months
Text
Crowd Pleaser
« One (performer or product) that is notably or reliably popular or appealing »
Sana x gn!reader
Angst
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synopsis - players play, but there can only be one winner
wordcount - 980?
T/W - definitely suggestive
A/N - short angst bc its been a while, although im on the fence about this one, enjoy!
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Opposites attract. Or was it birds of a feather?
In your three years as a philanderer, you found neither of those rules to be truer than the other. It was easier to call it what it always is : chemistry. Or chemicals went awry?
The latter seemed more fitting ever since Sana started playing around you. Your appointed rival, for gossiping’s sake. You wondered why she’d suddenly taken interest in you, and got your answer pretty quickly.
She’s crazy.
Loves the eyes on her, the attention. You couldn’t blame her. You understood her—at least to certain extent.
You liked it better when the attention was given behind closed doors. Privately, in hushed whispers, wordless stares as you walked by.
Sana…. She liked to make a show out of it.
Her sweet idea of fire worth playing with was the campus’ must try. At least for the worthy enough in her eyes. For the others it was a must see. As cruel as she could be, her behavior was art. Something about her eyes, her smile; it was a performance.
The way she messed with people them left them clueless, barely aware of themselves, their mind in pieces scattered around their dignity; the only thing she was kind enough to leave them with.
You watched every time a poor soul foolishly lead the way to its despair, hand holding onto its downfall.
You could say they were unkowing, unaware of the damage they laid themselves open to, but it would only be a lie. They were simply human enough to risk it all for a taste of what was popular.
It was captivating.
The way her eyes left her toy, looking back to the crowd she was leaving behind. A gesture as innocent as she could display herself to be, but only for the less aware. The most informed knew, she was looking for you.
Her gaze never wasted time, to the point she knew exactly where to catch yours. No matter the place, all she had to do was look past everyone else’s spellbound faces.
There you were, looking right back at her. The only one conscious enough to appreciate the end of her show.
Her winks stuck on your mind long after she disappeared into the whatever car her date got their hands on in hopes to impress her.
BMWs, rented Mercedes, a sweet Chevy, daddy’s Aston Martin… You chuckled at every single attempt. Not that you had any better, or even the means to get anything close to those.
In all humility, you didn’t mock their efforts either. It was only hard not to laugh at the thought of how easily you could turn all that blood and sweat into tears.
All you had to do was reach for her hand.
Though that ease worked your mind down, weakening it until you couldn’t hide anything in there anymore.
“Why do you make it so easy?” You asked her one night.
You’d helped her leave the mess she’d made of someone hours ago. Habit had her following you into your apartment, borrowing your bathroom before joining her roommate back in the dorms.
Her makeup was halfway off, revealing nothing but an even prettier sight. Her eyes seemed to be softer on you than they were moments ago. “What do you mean?”
“Why do you make it easy for me to steal you away?” You repeated, looking away from her to grab a cushion to hold against your chest.
Your studio apartment was a very small space, one allowing you to reach the bathroom in two steps from the couch you also used as a bed.
Sana loved to leave the door open, inviting you into her late night routine. Whatever had to do with her skin, you somehow knew about it. From the products she used, down to the weak spots; their complicated names and the sounds that rolled off her tongue whenever you let curiosity get the best of you.
“I could ask you the same thing.” She smiled at her own reflection. “But I doubt the answer will please you.”
“Since when do you care to please me?” You scoffed, kicking a stuffed animal at your feet.
Sana’s hands stuttered on her skin before letting silence claim the room. It certainly was better than anything she could answer to that. Better than the truth you definitely didn’t need to hear aloud.
So she left you in it, gathering her stuff and placing them neatly inside of a pouch she probably cared about more than you before walking out. The sound of your front door closing behind her only made it all painfully obvious.
You blinked your tears away, and held back on your sobs. Pride was too much of a strong word to make it a motive. You probably never had any, or it stopped existing when you started to play a part in her performance.
Shame was just as bad of a choice. Nothing shameful about succumbing to desire. Maybe a little in blurring the lines between the scene and reality.
It took a while to break the silence she left behind. About the same amount of time it took for your tears to reach your lips.
You winced at the feeling, the taste… It was all too familiar, you ended up choking at the memory.
The kisses you shared were always stained by her own tears. Not from sadness, nor happiness. Anger. Emotions you were both supposed to leave out of the equation.
You sniffled, still holding the sobs within your chest. The pressure built up enough to force a chuckle, a laugh out of fear of letting her win.
Funny.
That’s what it could be, the word. Ironically funny.
You barely even knew what you didn’t want to lose anymore, if at all.
It was neither a matter of pride or shame—nothing.
Nothing mattered.
In the world, in your eyes, in her mind.
Nothing except her.
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isa-ghost · 2 months
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amfmn missa.. p please.. please mother … feed us
I'M BEING ENABLED PPOVERHEAT
He's an actual grim reaper. That's where he's disappeared to so often in canon, reaper duties. It's a very demanding job, you know.
Doesn't stop him from feeling terrible about being gone so often though. He misses his husband and kids and hates how often he's out of the loop :(
Fr though Phil and the kids make him so so happy after spending countless hours working such a sad job. It's also partially why he sings and makes art. That brand of fun is catharsis for the soul.
He has all his canon weapons but I ALSO gave him a reaper deathscythe. And boy is he gonna use it. Fucking AWOOGA MissaSinfonia when he's angry.
Btw as a reaper he can FEEL souls. He can see their power, their condition, feel the surface level emotions and personality of its owner. This will come in handy later in the fic. ;)
As per the post I made asking for Missa appreciation so I can characterize him properly: He's undyingly loyal, he fights hard and loves even harder, he's protective, silly, and goddamn can he flirt.
All his wet cat behavior is a result of getting too overwhelmed by The Horrors. He's seen A Lot as a reaper. But somehow Quesadilla Island and all its... Everything. Always manage to show him a new brand of What The Fuck he's never even imagined before. Hence all his screaming and weeping when he's caught up on what he's missed. Like how tf else is he supposed to react??
Somewhat attached to that, he and Phil rlly were a match made in Federation Heaven bc they both have issues with self-doubt despite being insanely skilled and sharp-witted. Missa is better abt it than Phil though. His only acts up when he messes up a lot or just. Doesn't have a clue how to handle a situation where it's dire that he does. It's more of an insecurity about being unprepared and failing his loved ones than it is a doubt he has skill. He KNOWS he does, he hates when it's not enough. That's how he differs from Phil, who thinks he has none at all.
Btw when you fuck with the people he's protective over, he gets PISSED. We're getting a LOT of pissed off Missa in AMFMN <3 Ofc there'll be a lot of reaper tears too, his husband is suffering and there's little he can do about it. :( But ohohoho when the sad turns into rage. BARK WOOF. Eventually he decides EK is catching these hands and scythe.
He also shakes hands with his husband on being a self-sacrificing little shit. And. Yeah this is gonna happen later in the fic. (He's not dying dw dw)
You have no idea how excited I am that I basically get to build his dynamics with Fit, Etoiles, and Bagi from scratch. I'm so hyped. People are welcome to reply with this with any crumbs we have of their dynamics in canon but afaik they've rarely interacted outside of very minor moments, so AMFMN will largely be a sandbox for me to establish what I THINK they'd be like. Which in my fic plan so far, is largely taking each character's personality and applying how I think they'd react to a situation, and how that would look when two of them are interacting in that situation. Ex: at one point Etoiles has to comfort Missa bc he's just having a ROUGH time with this saving Phil stuff. But Etoiles is NOT a comfort guy. So he does his Etoiles thing: hearing Missa out while also cracking his usual brand of jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood.
I also have a plot point planned with him and Bagi when shit is hitting the fan the hardest and OUUGHHH. That self-sacrificing shit am I right.
God I'm being so mean to him specifically in AMFMN though. Ender King is a sack of shit, he knows exactly who to harass most using Phil's body >:/
See in my AMFMN Fitza headcanons, I said they're each other's confidants. Which IS true. However, no one in the fic gets the honor of Phil FINALLY communicating with someone about his issues other than his husband. Missa is the person he caves and confesses things to. Missa gets the HC Deity lore and what's been happening to him lately. This is actually what Chapter 3 is :D
Also I am so sorry but I'm sliding a Missa Romantic Love Confession attempt into the fic and it gets interrupted by The Horrors. But yeah Missa is romantically in love with Phil, he just respects that Phil sees things platonically. He still wants to communicate his feelings though.
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weirdmorefics · 10 days
Note
benedict with a younger sister who he catches at one of the parties he goes to talking to a man who has less than innocent intentions with her and she’s oblivious and just thought it would be a fun place to drink bcs that’s what she’d heard when was out at the park earlier that day
A/N- Sorry for it taking a while I really am starting to believe in the fanfiction curse. I also made up the seedy guy who had unhonorable intentions in this story just an FYI.
Readers Pronouns- She/Her
TW- Sexism
Word Count- 1,653
Summary- Benedict goes to a local gathering of artists and happens to find his darling younger sister enjoying the company of some of Benedict's unsavory friends.
Unhonorable Intentions
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I am a rake. I take no shame in this fact. I am allowed to be a free spirit it is my birthright as the second-born son. No obligations no responsibility. I would loathe to be in Anthony's shoes. Though Y/n seems to have made it her mission for me to walk in his shoes tonight. What is she even doing in a place like this? Last I knew she preferred literature over the arts. Yet she hangs on a man's arm as he explains his next work. in progress that he is sure will be his Magnus opus. I glare at them hopefully sister notices my gaze burning into her side so I can continue my night as if nothing happened. However, when I glare at them I realize who the man she is talking to is and now I know there is no way I can continue my night. Unfortunately said man felt my gaze instead of Y/n and smiled and pulled her forcefully along with him.
"Bridgerton! It's grand to see you! We've missed you at the club!" Alexander shakes my hand roughly and I return it with an insincere smile. "Saw you eyeing my new muse, I regret to inform you I don't share." God, I want to gag as I know what he does with his so-called muses. Y/n smiles at being called his muse she does love it when I draw her but this man does not have honorable intentions. He and I have very different definitions of what a muse is. My idea of a muse is someone who inspires you to create, Alexander's idea of a muse is a woman to sleep with and then abandon.
I straighten back to assert my taller posture over the man, "And I regret to inform you your so-called muse is my darling baby sister." I look down at her with demanding eyes, "I do say it is time we get back to Mother. Isn't Y/n?"
She looks taken aback by my tone, "What do you mean? I just got here."
Alexanders' grin increases tenfold, "A Bridgeton! Benedict I had no idea you were hiding such a beauty to yourself! If I was her brother I'd never let her out of the house either." This man is truly revolting the artist community here is unfortunately very small and I have to find a way to remain civil.
Y/n smiles, "So you know Alexander? That's too bad really I was hoping to learn some different art techniques from him to impart to you! I had no idea you knew such a famous artist!"
I grit my teeth, "Famous now Alexander are we?"
This flusters him for a moment but he recovers quickly, "Aren't all artists famous in a different sort of way?"
I want to laugh at such an absurd response… sadly Y/n is far too naive for her own good.
"I agree wholeheartedly! Benedict is the most famous artist in our family! I'm quite jealous of his talent I must admit! It makes sense he would be at such a regal event filled with so much talent. To be truthful I overheard this soiree would have fabulous drinks on this morning's promenade and couldn't resist," she gushes over my talents and breaks my heart for not being more present in my siblings' lives.
Anthony just seemed to have it all handled, Daphne was married off, Eloise could certainly hold her own ground, Francessa was so busy with her studies, and Mother had Gregory and Hycanith under control. Even though Y/n is Eloise's twin she couldn't be any more different she believes the best in everyone and is too quick to forgive in my opinion and Alexander is taking advantage of that and I will not let that stand.
I smile down at Y/n, "Y/n you downplay your own talents no need to associate with a man whose talents consist of preying on women through false pretenses."
Her eyes widen to the size of quarters, "Benedict you can not make such outrageous claims!"
I pretend to not know exactly what she is talking about, "You mean your talents? Your poetry talent is outrageous and that's not a claim it's just a fact."
She blushes at the compliment but for some asinine reason still wants to defend Alexander. Though it seemed her brain could not keep up with the unusual compliment from me and the unflattering words I spoke about Alexander she just stuttered unintelligible anger, shock, and joy all marking her face. Alexander on the other hand was just fuming red.
"First you insult me Bridgerton then you demean poetry as a genre by encouraging a woman to write it." he snarls.
I have never seen Y/n turn so quickly and before anyone in the room knows what's happening a resounding slap is heard over all the chatter and everyone turns to the noise. Alexander's eye is twitching and a red welt in the shape of my sister's hand is forming on his face. He glares at her with murderous eyes but she holds her head high I have never seen her this determined and it makes me wonder what else I missed while she was growing up and I was galavanting around with men like Alexander.
She points an angry finger at him like Mother would when she would scold us, "Gentleman like yourself actually I wouldn't even call men like you gentleman but that's beside the point. Men like you say women are too emotional to do anything but care for the home. Poetry is all about emotion it's supposed to make you feel something like the art you make, or apparently don't make from what I just learned from Benedict's side comment. I would also like to remind you who is in charge of our country or rather what sex they are?"
All eyes are on us and Alexander looks like he might strangle Y/n with his two hands if the vein bulging out of his forehead is any indicator.
"Oh and by the way when I complimented your line work on your latest piece I was lying it was shit but you know how men can be so emotional I didn't want to hurt your feelings," she fake pouted. This is definitely not the young sister I once knew she may still be naive but she has now learned to use her talent with words as a knife.
Alexander's arm shoots to roughly grab her but I am quick to block, "I'm Alexander but we must be going. It was so nice talking to you as always. I would definitely take my dear sister's words under advisement to spend more time working on your line art." I then pull him very closely into my body and if anyone hadn't seen the previous incident they would have thought it was just two chaps hugging. I whisper, "Less time with lines of ladies and coke you might find yourself able to make straight lines. And if I ever hear you laid a hand on my sister I will kill you myself." I roughly release him and he scrambles backwards ungracefully as all eyes on him.
I link arms with Y/n, "Come on we must really be going now."
Once we make it outside away from prying eyes she quickly bursts into sobs, "Gods what have I done! I was just so angry he'd judge me just based on my sex. God, what if Lady Whistledown writes about me!" She starts pacing with her hands on her forehead and this is the Y/n I am all too familiar with, " Oh God what if Mama reads it! What if I ruin the Bridgerton name? Anthony will never forgive me!"
I clap and quickly gain her attention back, "You certainly won't be the first Bridgerton featured in Lady Whistledown and I am certain you will not be the last."
"Not helping!' She shouts back.
"No one will be mad you stood your ground… in fact, I am quite proud of you."
Her eyes study me, "Are you serious? I just slapped your friend in a soiree full of your peers."
"Anthony was more of an acquaintance," I add.
She rolls her eyes, "That is not the point!"
I sigh, "Yes, I am proud. You defended your honor and didn't need my help to do so. Though I am sure any of your brothers would be there in a heartbeat to defend it including me."
She smiles, "You're proud of me."
"I am not saying it again," I state.
she starts to repeat you're proud of me in a sing-songy voice.
"My pride in you is diminishing and my worry is growing. I think I will be around more often seems like Anthony isn't keeping a watchful enough eye on you if he let you go to a seedy event like this."
She tilts her head, "But you were at the event?"
"Exactly I only attend seedy events, though it appears now I must reform. Think of me has your second Anthony," maybe having responsibilities won't be so bad if I get to see Y/n chew out more men like Alexander.
She groans, "I don't want another Anthony how will I ever do anything fun."
"That's the point Y/n," I smile.
She groans, "I hope Lady Whistledown writes you into the story and makes you sound dreadful."
"As long as she writes how daring and smart my younger sister is we will be on good terms," I smile as she groans again at her failed attempt to get under my skin.
"Thank you, I guess," she responds.
I may be late in helping my siblings but at least they all still have some more growing to do and I plan to be there for all of it.
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strwberri-milk · 1 year
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so you know the trend where someone absolutely COVERS their partner with lipstick marks from kissing them all over? that but with kaeya please (with lots of praise in between hehe) maybe reader wants to “test out” a new shade they got…kaeya not knowing what they mean till reader is all over him (///▽///)
YES THIS IS SO grrr i love this trope idk the trend i just konw the trope bc im obsessed w it
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Kaeya's used to being a bit of a test subject to you. He helps with your makeup whenever you ask him, or tries something on just because you wanted to know what it would look like on him. None of it really bothers him, so it's no surprise when you call him into your room armed with a new lipstick shade.
He expects that he'll just be helping with the application, ready to grab the brush to apply it to your lips with minimal teasing as per usual, asking you what the special occasion was to be wearing makeup in the middle of the day.
You just shrugged him off, already drawing the colour on your lips and he resists the urge to turn your chin towards him and kiss you. Instead, his eye just focuses on how full your lips look, the way the stick gently pulls at them just to return in a way that's so eye-catching he knows he'll devour you if you let him.
Instead, he just stands off to the side and waits for his cue, gnawing on the inside of his cheek to try and distract himself. Your eyes meet his in the mirror and he smiles, coming closer and putting his arms around your shoulder.
"Now you're finally ready for me? After all that teasing?" he chuckles, pressing some kisses to your cheek.
"No, no I just wanted you to try this colour too!"
He reaches for your lipstick, a little surprised when you yank it from him.
"Sit on the bed. I'll apply it for you."
Kaeya does as you ask, raising a brow as he realises he never watched you blot what looked like a healthy application of lipstick. He's sure if he even just taps your mouth right now some of the colour will come off, sitting down and looking up at you as you sit on his lap.
"You didn't blot it yet? Doesn't it feel heavy to wear that much lipstick at once?"
"Silly, that's what you're for."
He has no time to think as you press your lips to his, holding his face in your hands as your thighs squeeze around his waist. You can hear him make a noise of surprise before bringing his arms to your back, pressing you closer to his chest.
When you pull back, he can see the colour has indeed faded, watching in amusement when you pull some of the colour off his own lips with your thumb.
"Well then, are we done here?" he asks.
"Not quite."
The way his eye lights up at the sight of you reapplying the lipstick makes you laugh, leaning forward to lay him down as you start peppering his face in kisses. It didn't help that he started pouting, thinking you'd kiss his lips again but the way his nails dig lightly into your shirt makes you chuckle against his ear, even pressing kisses behind it.
He's more than happy to just sit there and let you kiss him. He'll even turn his face to satisfy the pecks you press against his skin. Each time your lips meet his face he practically shivers, making the act much lewder than you may have intended it to be. He can't help it - he just gets too drunk off your touch too easily.
When you're finally done you sit back to admire the work of art underneath you. He looks a little dazed, propping up his elbows to stare up at you with a fog in his eye. You give into your desires again, pressing one final kiss to his lips that he absolutely melt into before leading him to your vanity.
The look on his face is priceless. He was already a little flustered from all the attention you gave him, clearing his throat to try and figure out what to say to you now that he can see his face absolutely covered in your lip prints. His fingers gently trace the shapes of your love, turning even redder under your lipstick.
"You are...certainly something else," Kaeya finally manages, sitting down and lowering the collar of his shirt so he can see just how far down your lips trailed.
"I wanted to show you how much I love you. And this colour just looks so amazing on you, don't you agree?"
He grins in that special way that lets you know he's got something incredibly cheesy to say, mentally bracing yourself for impact.
"Of course it looks good. It's the colour of your love~" he purrs, pulling you into his lap. You sigh good-naturedly, cupping his face in your hands.
"You are so lucky you're pretty," you tease, slotting your lips against his for the nth time of the day.
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mintys-musings · 8 months
Text
His New Hobby (Kuro Kiryu x GN!Reader)
i knew exactly what i wanted to write.
Summary: Kuro seems to have earned a new hobby after spending some time with the outdoors circle and he wants to show you!
Tags: bondage, toys (just some vibrators), praise, overstimulation, mirror sex, mild dacryphilia, soft dom!Kuro because in my heart that's what i believe in, he calls you pretty lots, he also calls you baby and darling, creampie bc predictable
Word Count: 1305
NSFW under cut~!
"You're doing so well."
His voice was as loving and tender as it always was around you. His eyes trailed down your form before him, drinking in the sight of you tied up all pretty. Just for him.
Kuro had already made you come once just with his mouth before he had even finished all the knots. He couldn't help but get a taste of you once he saw how needy you were. It was fine for you to have an early release. He wasn't cruel. He wanted you to feel nice in return for indulging him in this.
Red and black ropes ran around your body in intricate knots and designs. A heart design right on your sternum, ropes weaving like snakes around your legs to tie them as they were folded. You couldn't see the way your hands were tied behind your back, but Kuro had explained to you that it was supposed to mimic a spider's web.
Kuro's lips trailed down your body, kissing each gap of skin between the lines of ropes.
"You're so good to me, baby." He brushed your hair away from your face and gave you a tender kiss. "Thank you for staying still for me. I'm so proud. I know I took my time with this."
You could only respond with a soft whine, his sweet words making you feel warm.
Kuro's eyes bore into yours with a passionate gaze. He had a look of pure admiration as he scooped you up into his arms. There was no place safer right now and no place you'd rather be.
"I want you to watch while I fuck your pretty body numb. Understand?" His hands wandered to caress and thumb over your skin like it was fine art. Your mind had all but ground to a halt at this point, in a near trance like state.
"Mhm..."
"Good good. I'm going to use some toys too, baby. You remember that, right?" He kissed your head as he brought you to the edge of the bed in front of a tall mirror.
You nodded.
"Verbal response, baby. I need to hear you." He moved your chin so you could look at him through the mirror. "You feeling okay about this still?"
It took a second for your brain to catch up, but you nodded again. Your eyes drifted from Kuro's awaiting gaze to the toys and tape on the bed.
"Yes. I'm okay. I remember." You recalled him talking to you earlier about all this. "Please fuck me, Kuro~"
Kuro let out a deep chuckle that you could feel against your back. "Good job, baby. Thank you for listening to me." His words were sincere as he reached for the toys he said he'd use earlier in this scene.
He taped three bullet vibrators to you. One on each nipple and one directly onto your sex. Your eyes never left the mirror, following his large hands as they put you into the exact position he wanted.
"You see how pretty you are?" He grinned, forcing your head up to look at yourself instead. "You look so good, darling."
More than yourself, you were staring right at Kuro's large, painfully hard looking cock. His thick tip was pressed right against your hole, leaking precum against you. You practically salivated at just the thought of it going into you.
"Watch." He commanded.
And you listened.
Your mouth fell open into a silent gasp as he sank you right down onto his cock. A deep groan could be heard from him.
"Fuck... You're so tight, baby. Look at that. Look at how well you take me."
He moved slowly at first. If anything, he was moving your body up and down his shaft like you were nothing more than a fleshlight. You couldn't help but watch as you were split open with each thrust, the sound of wet, sticky skin gently slapping against each other emanating from the two of you.
"You feel so nice around my dick. You're so good for me, yeah?" He was breathing heavily as he started to move faster. His balls slapped against your skin more and more. "God. I'm so fucking lucky to have you. You're so fucking pretty all tied up like this."
You couldn't find the mind power for any sort of response besides moans and gasps as Kuro thoroughly fucked you. You felt floaty, brainless, like the only thing that mattered was right now and how damn good everything felt.
And then he turned on the vibrators. High.
Maybe it was a lie to say he wasn't cruel. Or maybe it wasn't. Who knew?
When each and every sensitive point on your body was getting attention like this, blinding pleasure flooded your senses. You tried jerking away from the stimulation, but the ropes and Kuro's tight hold on you made it impossible to escape. The floaty nature of your brain quickly gave way to feeling every single cell in your body jolt with pleasure to the point it was nearly painful.
"Kuro!" You wailed. "Mmmngh~! 's too mu~uch~!"
Your wails were only met with a chuckle as Kuro thrusted into you with more fervour.
"You love it, right baby?" He teased, slamming himself inside your tight hole with no mercy. "I said I wanted you to watch. Look at you, darling."
Through watery eyes, you saw yourself in the mirror. Flushed face, drooling, trembling, hole getting stuffed with Kuro's girth over and over again. He made sure to fuck you hard so you felt every inch of him going in and out of you. He made you take him from tip to hilt with each thrust.
Each wet smack of skin only drove you further to the edge. It was hard to focus on anything else except the white hot pleasure you were being bombarded with. The vibrators kept changing their pulse patterns so you never had a moments rest.
Kuro wasn't fairing any better. He held you just as tight as your walls were holding onto him. He wasn't entirely silent, but the fact he only let out low groans and growls right into your ear brought a whole other level of intimacy to the scene.
One of his hands moved to your sex to play with it as he thrusted.
"You wanna come already, don't you?"
You nodded, eyes screwing shut.
"Verbal response, baby."
"Yes! Yes. I want to come so fucking badly!" You cried, completely at the mercy of Kuro's thrusts and each rapid pulse of the vibrators.
Kuro moaned. "Then come. You've been so good to me tonight. I want you to come all over my cock while I fuck my cum into you." He gritted his teeth and slammed into you repeatedly as hashly as he could. "Come for me. You can do that, right?"
"Yes yes yes—" You lost yourself as you finally peak. "Kuro~"
It was all too much all at once. Kuro's balls pulled taught as he slammed into you one final time to coat your insides white. In the same breath, your body convulses as best it could under your restraints as you come with a satisfying moan.
You hear a faint click and all the vibrators stop. Kuro grumbled curses under his breath as he held you tight, massaging your chest gently with his calloused hands.
You barely registered it as he kissed you. But once you did, you kissed back tenderly.
"Good job, darling. Thank you for indulging me again." He sighed in content, nuzzling his face into your neck. "Give me a minute. I still want to take pictures of you like this."
You giggled and watched through the reflection as some cum leaked out from you as Kuro shifted you on his dick.
"I love you, darling."
"I love you, too."
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callsignfangs · 3 months
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141 + Fangs with the reader who has a paper star making addiction. (Platonic) /nf
You feed me so well pooks 😇
For context: Fangs is also a CoD oc sorta thingy of mine 😚 I’ll add theirs at the end for anyone who’s interested 💟💟
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141 + Fangs & Paper star addicted reader <3
Price:
• Really doesn’t get it. He adores how often you gift them to him but has absolutely no clue what to do with them.
• Ended up repurposing one of his desk drawers to fill them with. Also generally always has some laying around.
• Is irrationally pissy whenever someone insults them. Think they’re weird? At least his partner loves him enough to spend their time making things for him instead of shitty storebought gifts every other month, Samantha.
Gaz:
• Is absolutely giddy about them.
• Learns to make them with you so you two can make a collection together 😇
• Came up with the idea of making them out of sugar paper and incorporating them into food as well, bc why not??
• Puts them literally everywhere. He has little tupperware boxes and mugs full of them placed all over his room.
Ghost:
• Secretly loves sitting and watching you make them. Seeing your fingers curl around the paper with each other fold, it’s just mesmerising to him.
• Can’t get the hang of it himself, though. Poor lad’s fumbling, catching his fingers on every other corner, his hands are just too big.
• Has at least one on him at all times. On a mission? Scattered across his vest pockets. Out running errands? One on the specially made keychain his house keys are on.
• Gets surprisingly upset if any of them get ripped/damaged. Still has a few on his floor because god knows this man has knocked over piles or containers of them, and/or used them as extra ammo during pillow fights.
Soap:
• Similar to Gaz, also very happy about them 😇
• Incorporates them into random things in his life. Definitely shaved a few stars into his mohawk. Maybe even got a star-related tattoo.
• Has them literally everywhere. Whenever he cleans up or redecorates his room, he’ll find at least a dozen just strewn about.
• Can’t exactly get the hang of tiny paper stars either, so whenever he makes them with you he gets big strips of paper so he can actually fold them.
• Always complains about how disarming explosives/tinkering with the tiny, intricate little bits in his snipers is somehow easier than folding those stupid bloody bits of paper.
• Angst warning ahead - Have you lot seen that tiktok video of the person who’s father hid rubber ducks around their house, and after he passed they found one in the console of their car? Yeah. That’s what you’re met with after MW3. You’re welcome 😇 (edit: found it on reddit instead of tt 😚)
Fangs:
• A little confused at first, but eventually catches up with it.
• Will get deeply upset if they lose one you’ve gifted them. Yeah, they have at least three hundred others, but it was a gift from you!!
• Like Soap, starts bringing them into projects. Impulsively starts a full art project based completely around them, and has to shamefully slink over and ask you to make them more 😇
• Sorta gets the hang of them. To say they’re a bit wonky is an understatement, but they’re trying their best, and they don’t really mind as long as they’re having fun (silently raged for at least half an hour over them).
• Paints a star on their favourite rifle. Price wasn’t very happy when they went on a night mission and he spotted a little painted star glowing in the dark, and they very reluctantly peeled of the paint and replaced it with a less noticeable colour.
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Giggle donee 😇 My brains been kinda rotting over this lately and I have a Farah ask that I’m going a liiil feral over so yippee 🎉 (if ur seeing this i love u farah anon(s?) /p 😋)
Okok yaya but thanks pooks this dragged me out of my like writing hole very happy 💪
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renshengs · 7 months
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sorry if you get a ton of notifs bc i just found your account and have been scrolling through most of it!! but 1. THE REVERSE ROBINS JAYTIM?? you somehow drew my favorite trope and i didn’t even know it was my favorite bc i’ve only really seen it in a couple c-novels before. so thank you for that
2. the reverse robins damitim!! (i’m sensing a theme here, with me and reverse robin aus). would just love to hear more about them in that verse if you feel up to it!
i don't mind the notifications, click away!
the 年下 nianxia trope in cnovels yess that was exactly what i had in mind while drawing reverse robins jaytim, you get it! it's about the little kid growing up to be sooo unbearably hot it sends everyone into a panic :)
as for damitim! i think the collective dynamic of the bats would be wildly different if damian came first... he'd be bruce levels of stoic but with a certain air of responsibility about him, an eldest child type of no-nonsense attitude, while if tim came second he'd maintain his like. general insanity and overcompensation and stalker habits etc etc. he and damian absolutely hate each other's guts at first, but out on the field they'd probably work together extremely well, which makes both of them mad LMAO
i imagine the shift happens when damian gets caught in an explosion at some point and wakes up in the cave to tim swearing and scowling at him like "i dug through the rubble for THREE HOURS, if it weren't for batgirl i would've killed you when i finally found you," except the whole time he's also holding an ice pack to damian's temple and his hands are all bandaged up. and damian just stares at them and is kind of like, "huh". later stephanie says "did tim tell you he winched a solid block of concrete off of you? he was crying because he thought he was too late" and yk, damian has an oh moment. after that he starts being more tolerant of tim's general nagging. a year later bruce picks up 13 year old jason from off the streets and jason takes to tim like a duck to water and damian starts lowkey beefing with him about it because he's embarrassing like that.
that's about as far as my brainrot has gotten... no idea who tim is interested in but he's like, probably 70% aware of the ridiculous love triangle he's been caught in.
(btw in this au damian is 3 yrs older than tim who's 5 yrs older than jason. so by the 2nd picture of the reverse robins jaytim art, dami is 27, tim is 24, and jay is 19. dami is batman at this point! bruce is retired and probably staying in metropolis every other week if you catch my drift)
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wannab-urs · 8 months
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Faulty System
Graphic: Old Friends by James R. Eads
Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader (i don’t really specify gender here, but the reader is afab in prior installments)
Summary: It’s easy to let all the bad parts of being with Dieter obscure the beauty of who he was. You try not to.  WC: ~900
Warnings: // in order // drug and alcohol use, Major Character Death (in the past), talking to your toxic mother, excessive cursing bc that’s how I talk sorry, discussion of mental illness, discussions of like idk… physical deterioration due to mental health and drug abuse, implied sex dream turned nightmare, no happy ending, trauma dumping (not in the fic, that’s just what I’m doing)
A/N: Thanks to @theywhowriteandknowthings and @atinylittlepain for reading and discussing with me <3 eternally fucking grateful to y’all. This fic is based somewhat loosely on the song Your Needs, My Needs by Noah Kahan, which is about watching someone you love become a ghost of themselves due to addiction. I know very few people want to read a pairing//x reader fic where the other half is dead, and I really appreciate all of you who read and love my Dieter fics. I don’t know how I can ever describe how it feels to have someone tell you they read the darkest parts of your soul and found something good in it. Love y’all. also i should probably wait to post this but i have no self control :)
Series Masterlist | Dieter Bravo Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi
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You asked me why I wasn't sayin' a word I'm namin' the stars in the sky after you
A late night walk, something you do to get him out of the apartment. Giggling as you slip the hastily rolled joint from his teeth. You press it to your lips and draw acrid smoke into your lungs, push it back out into the humid air and walk through a haze of your own creation. You’re drunk, maybe. High, definitely. Dieter wraps his arms around you from behind and you awkwardly waddle-walk down the sidewalk, tangled up. 
He presses a kiss to the space behind your ear and you scrunch your shoulder up, shrugging him away. “Fuckin tickles!” You squirm away from him and break into a run, tossing the joint behind you, laughing and squealing as he chases you. You skid to a stop behind your usual tree in the park. Press your back into the bark. “I see you, baby. Can’t hide from me.” 
You make a break for it. A stumbling, stuttering start and his arms are around you in a flash, pulling you to his chest as he hits the ground on his back. Howling hyena laughter ringing in the quiet midnight air. He kisses you, sucking all the air right out of your lungs, breathing it back into you. You separate only to turn in his arms and crash back into him, hands fisting in his curls, bodies pressed together down to your toes. He makes you dizzy, a little sick, disoriented. 
You flop onto your back next to him, staring at the night sky awash with stars as you fight to catch your breath. You get quiet, gazing at the stars. He asks why. “Just thinking.” He waits for you to continue, knows to let you work it out first. 
“You burn so fucking bright, Dee. It lights up the whole sky.” He smiles and brings your hand to his chapped lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. 
You don’t tell him he’s like the stars you learned about from that space documentary you like to fall asleep to. They burn incredibly hot and bright. More than any other star. And then they burn out. They’re quick about it. They light up the night sky for this infinitesimal amount of time compared to something like a red dwarf. And then they’re gone, collapsing in on themselves and taking anything unlucky enough to be caught in their orbit with them.
“Only for you.”
You were a work of art That's the hardest part
A meeting with your mom, a year and change after. She’s sitting in his seat, probably doesn’t even realize. You can’t look at her, your eyes flicking between your untouched tea and the window. So many days spent lying under that tree, just across the street. Tugging each other by the hand into this coffee shop. Curling up in the booth and talking for hours. 
“I honestly don’t get why you’re still so upset. You were together for less time than it’s been since…” She trails off, not wanting to actually say the words. Since he died. “He hurt you. He’s still hurting you. He wasn’t good for you.” She says it matter of factly, like it’s common knowledge. 
“Don’t fucking tell me he wasn’t good for me. You don’t know that. No one fucking knew him like I did. No one even gave him a chance. I had to watch this brilliant man turn into a goddamn ghost in front of me and no one else even gave a shit.”
“He turned you into a ghost too.” 
You drag your palm across your face, smearing tears into your hairline. 
“The sad part is – we were fucking gorgeous together. It wasn’t always bad, you know? He made me feel alive and beautiful and fucking… real. Like no one ever had before. He was incredible. He was so fucking smart. Kind, talented. Wonderful. He was wonderful.” 
Trace the outlines of your dreams You'll always be a flower on my skin
A dream, a memory maybe. A blur of white sheets, dark curls tinged with blue paint. Gasps and sighs. Lips and tongue and teeth everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Eyes you never quite catch a glimpse of. Every feeling fleeting and just out of reach. Indents of fingers on your skin, dragging rough down your legs. These you feel. Hooking into you and nearly pulling you with him as he slips away. You swear you wake up with bloody streaks down to your calves. God it fucking hurts. 
Watching him slowly kill himself, knowing it was happening, and not being able to do a damn thing about it, that was the hardest part. Towards the… the end... Fuck. When lucidity completely escaped him, he was scared. Terrified of himself and everyone around him. In his rare moments of clarity he was always so bitter, so angry at himself for not being what you needed. He punished himself. Didn’t eat, didn’t sleep, didn’t speak. You think you hated him a little, by the end. 
Still. You don’t think you’re ever getting him out of your system. There was too much good in him to not forgive him for the bad. The rotten, broken, crumbling part at the center of him that took him from you. You watched him fall in on himself and you did nothing about it. Could do nothing about it. Helpless. 
You cross that county line I promise to be there this time, alright?
–-------------------
Series Masterlist
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Thanks for reading <3
I don't really do tag lists anymore usually but:
@ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @mandoisapunk @amanitacowboy @pamasaur @cool-iguana (and I'll just drop a link to the rest of ya <3)
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