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#that’s all i’m simply losing it and falling apart LOL

ponderingmoonlight · 3 months

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Satoru Gojo purposely keeping the scar you gave him instead of using reversed technique

Pairing: husband! Gojo x reader

Word Count: 1,6k

Synopsis: When his skin gets busted by your sheer excitement, it doesn't feel right to Satoru to use his reversed technique and simply heal.

Warnings: fluff fluff fluff, Yuji's "death" scnene in season 1, blood lol

Thank you dear anon for aggressively reminding me that it's canon for Gojo to not have any scars, it really helped me cooking up that fic! 🤍

Every step feels like hell, the only thing that keeps you from collapsing onto the floor being the reassuring hand of your husband on your shoulder.

This can’t be true, it’s just impossible. Yuji Itadori was a member of Jujutsu High for a few weeks, just started to get to know this world better. This was supposed to be an easy mission, the three of them should have made it out alive with ease. But apparently, Sukuna decided to show up. And apart from injuring Megumi, he violently took Yuji’s life by ripping his heart out. A heart made of pure gold, a heart so precious that you couldn’t help but care for that boy the minute you saw him.

But now he’s dead.

Your hands start shaking immediately the minute you step into this cursed room you visited far too often, gazing at Yuji’s body covered by a cloak. This isn’t a bad dream. No, the blood covering the white cloak tells you more than urgently that Yuji Itadori isn’t there anymore.

“Please tell me that there’s a chance he’ll come back”, you mutter.

Oh, how much both Shoko and Satoru hate to see you like that. It’s not a secret to anyone at Jujutsu High how deeply you care about your students, loving them like your own children. Of course, this isn’t the first time you’ve seen a student die in front of your eyes. In times like these, jujutsu sorcerers pass away like flies. But Satoru knows what you’ve seen in Yuji, that he somehow reflected parts of yourself. And still, you weren’t able to protect that boy, both Satoru and you coming too late to rescue him.

“I really wish I could, but he shows no signs of life. I’ll move on to autopsy now. If you want to say goodbye…Maybe do it now and leave afterwards.”

Satoru wraps his arms around you just in time before you slide onto the ground, holding you tightly against his chest.

“This is not fair”, you breathe out, head still not able to accept Yuji’s farewell.

He was so young, so full of life. He doesn’t deserve to die, he still had so much ahead of him. There needs to be something you are able to do. Aren’t Satoru or Shoko able to use their cursed technique?

“He didn’t show any signs of life for hours by now, (y/n). Not even Shoko or me are able to bring him back to life. I’m so sorry”, he mumbles against your ear out of nowhere.

So this is really how it ended? With Yuji getting killed by none other than Sukuna himself? Like in trance, your wobbly legs carry you to the autopsy table his lifeless body lays on. You want to stretch out your arm, want to look at that precious boy one last time before Shoko does her job.

But you can’t.

“I can’t look at him”, you blurt out.

With a swift motion, you turn around and burry your face against your husband’s chest.

“It’s okay babe, just look at me, okay? You don’t have to do this.”

Satoru’s arms keep you from losing yourself completely, soak up your falling tears while his head rests against yours. Oh Yuji, you’ll never be forgotten. All the laughter’s both of you shared, his potential, how he always cared about others. You will think about him every time the sun starts to rise, when new students get greeted, when you kill another curse-

“Hey, what’s up? Huh, what are both of you doing here, Gojo-sensei?”

This voice…

That was Yuji Itadori.

Out of instinct you turn around rapidly, not even noticing how the back of your head crushes into Satoru’s forehead with full force. He sees starts, blood taking his sight in an instant while his mind isn’t even able to comprehend it was Yuji who just spoke.

“Yuji! Are you okay? Are you hurt? You’re back!”, you babble out, embracing the boy in a tight hug.

“To be honest I don’t even know what happened last and I’m pretty hungry…Oh, you’re bleeding Gojo-sensei!”

You’re…bleeding? You turn around in confusion, following Yuji’s eyes.

“OMG SATORU!”, you cry out, the sight of your husband covered in his own blood shocking you to your core.

When did that happened…Was it…you?

“I guess you were so happy to see Itadori that you’ve forgot about me standing behind you”, he mutters amused.

“Babe I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just got so carried away and-“

“Don’t worry about me. Reversed technique, remember? I’ll be whole in seconds. Just look after Yuji, I love you.”

You let out the breath you were holding, the bright smile forming on your gorgeous face making Satoru forget the world around him for a moment. You are so caring, so passionate. And you are his wife.

“I’m a lucky man”, he mutters to himself while pressing the tissue Shoko handed him against his wound.

There you sit, gently caressing Yuji’s cheeks and asking him over and over if he’s okay.

“You really are. This isn’t a problem for you, right?”, Shoko questions with one glance at the laceration on his forehead.

The shocked look on your face replays itself over and over in his mind, lets a chuckle escape his lips. With the help but his reversed technique, it would be way too easy to get rid of that minor wound. Within seconds, there wouldn’t even be a scar left, just his flawless skin. But…it was you who did this to him out of sheer excitement. It sure would be nice to look into the mirror and get reminded of you daily, right?

“Oh, I might as well keep that”, he replies with a sly grin.

- a few weeks later -

You sit on the edge of the couch, desperately waiting for that time of the day. Even after being married to that force of a man for 4 years now, you find yourself getting all excited when he announces that he’s going to shower. Because going to shower means that he’ll come out just wearing boxers with his body still a little wet and his hair sticking to his face in that delicate way.

“Still waiting for me, huh? It’s not like you can see me naked every time you want, babe”, he finally purrs.

Your heart skips a beat. This man…How is it even allowed to look so breathtakingly gorgeous? The way a single droplet of water runs down his cheek, how he gently strokes his damp hair back.

Wait. You squint your eyes a little harder. What is that on his forehead?

“What do you have there?”, you question, rubbing your own hand against the ride side of your forehead.

This almost looks like a scar. But Satoru shouldn’t have scars. After all, he’s able to use reversed technique, healing himself in the matter of seconds. Is it just dirt? No, that definitely looks like scar tissue.

“Oh, it’s nothing”, he immediately tries to brush you off, pulling his hair back into his face.

“No way Romeo, come back here right now”, you demand.

With a swift motion you lift yourself off the couch and hunt after him.

“Is that a scar?”

“It might be…”

“Why didn’t you just heal it? Show it to me!”

When you finally catch him, you slick his hair back again. Only to be greeted what indeed looks like a middle-sized scar. But why and how did this happen, why didn’t he just heal like he usually does?

“You really don’t know where this came from?”, he challenges you.

You blink a few times. What the hell is your husband talking about?

“Why would I know where this came from?”

“Because it was you, (y/n)?”, he playfully bites back.

You? Your mind races, searching for a single moment you ever hurt your husband. You were never really able to even hurt him, no matter how berserk you went in training. When was the last time you even wounded him? But wait, there was this one time you made him bleed, that one time when…

“This was when Yuji woke up-“

“EXACTLY!”, Satoru cries out and gives you a round of applause.

“But why did you keep it? You said you’d be able to heal it…”

“Because I didn’t want to. This scar right here”

Gently, he takes your hand in his and traces the soft scar with your fingertips.

“will always remind me of what a wonderful human being you are.”

Oh. Your eyes turn glossy in an instant, staring up at your loving husband while he gifts you with the most breath-taking smile you’ve ever seen.

“Satoru”, you breathe out.

There is no time to waste. You wrap your longing arms around his tall frame tightly, aiming to never let him go again.

“Every time I look into the mirror, I think about my wonderful wife”, he mutters into your hair.

“Y’know, you could just take a picture of me or something-“

“No. I would rather just keep that scar of my wonderful wife smacking me over a student.”

You hit him playfully over his comment, a giggle escaping your precious lips.

“Come on, it wasn’t like that…”

“I’ll always tell the story like this.”

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Dividers by @saradika 🤍

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spacerockfloater · 1 month

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I’m going to preface this post by saying I don’t give a flying fuck about the hate I’m going to receive for the opinion I will be sharing and I won’t bother replying to any comments attacking me for it.

I fucking LOVE that Aemond killed Luke and I wish it wasn’t accidental. I wish Luke’s death was full on intentional, lol.

As a victim of bullying, I’ve been in situations where I have had to fend off 20+ kids as a kid myself. I’ve been verbally, physically, emotionally and psychologically assaulted as a child by other children, simply because I wanted, strived for and had good grades in school, actions that did not affect any of my classmates in the slightest. Therefore, I absolutely sympathise with Aemond, whose lack of dragon and later on his acquisition of one hurt no one (dragons belong to no one, you snooze you lose), yet he still got ridiculed and attacked for it. Yes, Aegon was also a bully and I hate him for it, but ultimately he grows out of it and supports his family, unlike the Strong bastards who remain bullies and assaulters. Oh, and Aemond tried to hit Jace with a rock because he attacked him first. Accusing him for standing up for himself is victim blaming. People who defend the Strong boys are bullies and that’s final.

No, I don’t give a rat’s ass that his attackers were children. Aemond was a child, too, and they ganked him 4v1. It’s crazy how some of y’all support physically attacking someone because you don’t agree with them. It was satisfying to see him kick their teeth in. Aemond and Luke are only 2 years apart, even if the actors’ appearances suggest otherwise. Your age does not excuse you being a fucking piece of shit. Children and teenagers appear on the news daily as rapists, killers, assaulters and all kind of criminals. That’s the reason juvie exists. Children should face the consequences of their actions.

“Are you excusing child murder?” if it is by the hand of the child they unapologetically disabled, fuck yeah. Besides, at the end of the day, Aemond dies, too, so you could say justice is served.

Still, I would have given the Strong boy the benefit of the doubt if it weren’t for this scene:

Lucerys is laughing at Aemond.

He is looking him in the eye and he is laughing at him. It’s been 6 fucking years. Lucerys is 17 (confirmed by the writers) and he feels no remorse for what he did. He was not punished for his action, so he has learned nothing.

He feels safe to mock Aemond, in the comfort and safety of his grandfather’s house, where his guard and stepdad can stop Aemond, whom he cannot beat on his own, from bashing his head against the wall. He feels safe to attack Aemond when he calls him Strong, knowing that other people will finish the fight he started but can’t win.

But what happens when no one is around to protect him from the consequences of his own actions? He shits himself. His face falls, he stumbles backwards and does not object to Aemond calling him Strong.

Not laughing now, huh, you little shit stain?

308 notes · View notes

daechwitatamic · 10 months

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4. Perilune || KSJ

(banner by @itaeewon)

Title: Amalthea (Masterpost) - Part 4: Perilune

Rating: NSFW - minors go away i mean it Genre: best friend's older brother!au, angst smut fluff trifecta Pairing: Seokjin x female reader Beta team: @yoongiphoria, @here2bbtstrash, @kookstempo

Summary: You can count on two things in life. One: that your lifelong best friend Minji will always be there for you, in your corner, your brightest star. Two: that you'll never be free from her older brother Seokjin's orbit - the gravitational pull is just too strong.

Warnings: language, confessions, drinking, angst, facetime sex lol bye, vibrator use (f), dirty talk, kissing, lightly dom!jin, fingering, reader takes it from behind, penetrative sex (protection not mentioned either way), multiple orgasms (f. receiving), sweet aftercare

WC: 9k

Part 4: Perilune

Perilune: (noun) the point of an elliptical lunar orbit where the satellite and the Moon are the closest

“What… is going on here?” Minji asks, eyes wide, voice trembling.

Seokjin, secret genius, reaches out an arm to welcome her into the hug. “Y/N is upset,” he says easily, like this is a perfectly natural thing. “Come help.”

Minji’s eyes narrow, but she shuffles into the hug, wrapping one arm around each of you. “But,” she ventures after a minute, “why are you upset?”

You shake yourself free of the hug, wipe at your face roughly with both hands. You consider your options. You consider that Seokjin is willing to forgo the easy option, to wrestle with a tough reality for you.

You owe him the same.

“Because I don’t know what’s going to happen when he flies home again,” you say, as honest as you can be. “And I’m scared I’ll lose him again. And I hate that it isn’t easier.”

Minji looks back and forth between you silently. “Are you….?” she manages, and the question is pointed more at Seokjin than you, so he answers.

“We’re together,” he says simply.

The shock flies to her face almost instantly, but all you feel is resignation. You’re already emotionally spent today; this might as well happen.

“For how long?” she demands. “When did this start?”

You look at him. “Technically, like four days ago,” you answer, deciding to omit the New Year’s Eve debacle. For now.

Her eyes narrow again. “You didn’t tell me.” The accusation falls at your feet, but you’re glad to accept it.

“We were…” You trail off, meeting Seokjin’s eyes over her head. “We were trying to feel it out before we told anybody.”

“Hmph,” Minji sniffs, arms crossed, frown pronounced. “I’m not anybody. I’m your best friend.”

“I know,” you whisper. “But it felt… complicated. Considering. You don’t… hate this? Would you… are you okay with this?”

Minji huffs out a laugh, the same way Seokjin does when he thinks you’ve said something ridiculous. “Please,” she says, reaching back to elbow her brother in the ribs. “You two have been stupid for each other since we were teenagers. It’s honestly about time.”

It feels too good to be true. Seokjin smiles, grabbing her arm and wiggling it around affectionately. “Look how mature you are,” he coos. “Look at my mature, smart, lovely, wonderful sister.”

“Get off me,” she snaps, but there’s no bite behind it. “God, you two loons.”

Later, when you’re back home, alone, trying to process everything that had happened, your phone lights up.

[11:57 PM] Minji 💗: OH MY GOD [11:57 PM] Minji 💗: THIS MEANS [11:57 PM] Minji 💗: YOU GOT THE GOOD DICK GLOW [11:57 PM] Minji 💗: FROM MY BROTHER???????///??????????? [11:57 PM] Minji 💗: I WILL THROW UP I WILL THROW UP RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[12:03 AM] Jin 😎: well now that the cat’s out of the bag… can i take you on a date before i go?

–

You tell Jin yes, but the next night isn’t spent with him. Instead, you show up after dinner to Minji’s apartment holding a fresh stalk of celery with a cheery bow slapped on the packaging. It’s stupid - ridiculous, really - but it’s a you and Minji thing dating all the way back to middle school and you think she’ll laugh.

You’re right; as soon as she processes the nonsense she’s looking at, she bursts into laughter.

“Damn,” she cackles, backing up to let you into the apartment. “You must be feeling guilty. You bypassed show up with beer and went straight to celery!”

“Please accept this token of my deepest regrets and most sincere apologies,” you deadpan, pushing the stalks into her hands. Still laughing, she heads into her tiny kitchen to find a spot for them in the fridge. You perch on the arm of her couch, waiting for her to come talk to you.

She’s shaking her head at you when she returns, flopping on her couch and staring up at you. “You really didn’t need to,” she says, still smiling.

You twist your mouth at her. “I’ve known you for a long time,” you say gently. “I know it hurt your feelings that I didn’t tell you.”

She looks away and shrugs. For a second you think she’s going to lie, but then she juts out her jaw the way she does when she’s feeling defensive and she says, “I guess. I understood, though. I mean, I get why you didn’t.”

You run your toes along a pattern on her rug. “It’s weird because… I don’t know what’s okay to tell you?”

She cocks her head, not fully understanding.

You try again. “I mean… I don’t want to not tell you stuff… but obviously there will be things that you don’t want to hear.”

“Ah,” she says, understanding, starting to nod. “Well… how about you give me some warning if anyone’s gonna get naked.”

“A safe word,” you suggest, only partly joking.

“Pineapple,” she says sagely. “If there are naked parts, warn me with pineapple.”

You laugh. “Okay,” you agree. “So should I? Tell you all of it?”

“Start at the beginning,” she directs.

“The beginning.” You laugh again. The beginning was so long ago, before you even understood it. “Well, I think I’ve been in love with him since –”

“Since forever.”

“How come you knew, but he didn’t?” you ask, exasperated. Had everyone known but you and him?

“Seokjin is an idiot,” she says simply, crossing her arms behind her head and getting comfortable. “Tell me the rest.”

You sink onto the couch opposite her, hugging your knees to your chest. “We had a lot of moments over the years,” you admit, “where I really… wondered. You know?”

“You were the only one wondering,” she says with a smile. “He’s always… made space for you, broke his own rules for you. Jungkook and I used to joke about it. He was always nicer to you than to us.”

You take this in, letting it soak into your heart like sunlight on your skin. You can feel the truth of it, can recognize that some part of you must have known this all along.

“Yeah,” you say softly. “I guess it was like that, from the outside. I just… never knew what it meant. It was hard to see it clearly, from too close.”

Minji reaches over and squeezes your hand briefly, encouraging. “So, when did things start-start? Like really start?”

“Well,” you say tentatively, “two years ago, when you had that New Year’s Eve party? We, uh… shared a pineapple that night.”

Minji blinks at you, and you watch the moment it processes. Her eyes go wide, lips curling a bit in revulsion. “You what? How long ago? At my dad’s house?”

You cover your face with your hands, peeking at her between fingers. “Yeah.”

She exhales, nearly a whisper. “Two years ago?” she repeats, disbelieving. Now, a bit of hurt does creep into her voice as she adds, “That’s a long time to keep a secret.”

“I would have told you, I swear,” you hurry to say. “But he… kind of vanished the next day. Got on the plane and left and literally never talked to me about it again.”

“God, he’s an incurable fucking idiot,” Minji mutters, mostly to herself, it seems.

“We worked it out,” you explain. “Recently. But yeah… I was embarrassed. And hurt, to be honest. I just didn’t want to have to admit any of it. I think saying it out loud to you - to anyone - would have killed me. I wanted to just… pretend it didn’t happen.”

She groans in mock agony, throwing her head back and flopping dramatically, like your own stupidity is causing her great pain.

“I know,” you say, apologetic despite her dramatics. “The whole thing is ridiculous.”

“So?” she says, pulling herself together and scooting to sit back up. “What’s happening now? You’ve… had pineapples again, since he came home for Dad’s surgery?”

You feel your face burn like it’s caught fire before you can even answer and she starts shrieking and laughing, reaching to whack your legs with a throw pillow.

“Never mind!” she cries. “I got my answer, don’t tell me anything else! My actual question is - what happens next?”

You shrug, your stomach sinking. “I’m not sure,” you say. “He… told me he loves me?”

Minji squeals, the noise echoing to her lofted ceilings and back, her feet kicking.

“But,” you add, “he’s flying home in a few days…”

“What?” Minji squawks indignantly, sitting all the way up to face you. “So you’ll just let it die again? I physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually cannot watch you idiots drag this out for another two years.”

“Yeah,” you agree with a little laugh, even though you suddenly feel a bit like crying. “I obviously don’t want that either. He said we’ll talk about it when it’s time.”

She sighs heavily. “Don’t leave it up to him,” she instructs. “He’s so dumb, like my god is he dumb. I have faith in you. Handle it.”

“Okay, bossy,” you say, poking her leg with your foot. “I promise to do my best.”

She nods, satisfied. “You better,” she threatens, and then heads to the kitchen to munch on the celery you’d brought her.

–

Seokjin’s last day comes too quickly. You’ve been dreading it for days. You remember all the other times he’s left before - for college, then when he moved, and on New Year’s Day after sleeping with you for the first time. You had spent all of those days at your parents’ house, watching across the street as cars were loaded, or assessing the empty place in the driveway.

It makes it suck less that this time, you’re in your own apartment, and Seokjin is with you, telling you goodbye instead of vanishing in silence.

“Don’t be so sad,” he tells you sweetly. “We’ll see each other soon.”

“No we won’t,” you grumble, pouting.

Days ago, you’d curled into his side, clutching the fabric of his white t-shirt between desperate fingers. The cotton had felt like an anchor.

“Jin?” you’d asked, and he’d looked down at you from his phone, where a game waited for his input.

“Hm?”

“It’s like… three days left.”

“Yeah,” he’d said slowly, like he wasn’t sure where you were going with this. But of course he did - what else could be weighing on your mind? Why else would you bring it up?

“We said we’d decide what to do when it was closer,” you reminded him. “It’s closer.”

“It is,” he agreed easily, turning his phone screen off and shifting to give you his full attention. “And?”

You couldn’t stand it, suddenly, his teasing.

“Seokjin,” you murmured, reproachfully.

“What?” he asked innocently, bumping your nose with his. He was smiling, like he thought your distress was a little funny.

“Jin,” you whined. “I’m being serious! We need to talk about it!”

“So let’s talk about it!” he had laughed. Then, watching your face, he’d grown serious. He’d brushed his fingers along your jaw, pressed a kiss to the scrunch between your eyebrows. “I’m listening,” he promised.

“When you go home…” you’d said quietly, “I don’t want this to end. I know we said long distance is awful, but…” You trailed off.

“But what’s the alternative?” he finished the thought for you. “I don’t want this to be over, either.”

“So,” you’d said slowly, hope daring to blossom behind your ribcage, “we’ll try?”

He had nodded seriously, eyes far away as he considered this option. “It won’t be fun, and it won’t be easy,” he’d warned. “But, yeah… I’d like to try. I don’t want to throw this away again.”

As he double-checks his luggage in the doorway of your apartment, he sends you a rueful smile and says your name disarmingly.

“What?” you grumble.

“We’ll see each other soon,” he repeats indulgently.

“Soon,” you scoff. “Like, what? Christmas?”

He comes to you then, wrapping his arms around your angry shoulders. “Listen,” he says, his dulcet voice soothing you, “My goal is to find a way to be with you. I’m going to go back and do whatever I can to make that happen. Okay?”

“A man with a plan,” you murmur, softening with his reassurances.

“A man who’s done losing time,” he says solemnly.

It’s the first time he’s leaving you where you have the chance to kiss him goodbye.

It’s the first time he’s leaving you with hope that he’ll return and help you build something better.

–

You and Jin talk on the phone every day that he’s gone. It sucks to be far apart, sure, but somehow this is still better than before - at least now you’re talking, a ton, giggling and flirting openly like you’ve never been able to before.

At least now you can tell him you love him before hanging up, instead of pretending you don’t, instead of denying it, lying about it, trying to imagine a life where it isn’t your biggest truth.

Almost a week passes before Jin tells you, ceremoniously, “I… have news.”

“Ooh,” you say. “I’m listening.”

He smiles at you lazily through the screen; you’re each in bed, chatting before saying goodnight. “Don’t get too excited,” he warns you. “It’s good news, but it’s not ideal news.”

“I will temper my expectations,” you promise.

“I requested to transfer,” he tells you. “I put in the request the day I came back.”

You smile, feeling warm and grateful, feeling full of love and appreciation. “And?”

“It’s not perfect,” he warns you again. “I did get approved, but -“

You squeal.

“But,” he continues over you, “they want me to work down a 90-day notice and help train someone to take my place here. And the transfer location isn’t in town, it’s in the city.”

You stay silent, thinking about this.

“So,” you clarify slowly, “we have to wait three months, but then you’ll be here?”

“Not there-there,” he points out. “An hour away.”

“It’s better than now,” you point out. “Even if I only see you on weekends, it’s better than now.”

“It’ll be more than that,” he says. “That’s the absolute worst case scenario. Okay?”

“Okay,” you say, minimizing the call to pull up your calendar. “Ninety days starting… today?”

“Tomorrow is day one,” he tells you warmly. You click the date on your calendar - a Thursday in early September - and mark it Jin transfers.

“Can’t wait,” you say, opening the call again. “When are we gonna apartment hunt?”

He laughs. “I’ve already got Minji on it.”

You lay awake long after you hang up, daydreaming of ninety days from now, when Seokjin will be just an hour away, close enough to drive to, close enough to touch.

—

“How was your day, beautiful?” Jin greets you before the connection loads his video, his voice finding you before his face does. It’s been about a month and a half of the long-distance thing, and your video call routine is solid.

You roll on your side, holding your phone so Jin can see your sad little face and a good helping of cleavage from your pajama top. “I don’t know,” you pout. “Okay, I guess.”

“Aigoo,” he croons. “What’s wrong with my favorite girl today?”

You sigh heavily; you’ve dropped the act for the most part, and now you’re letting your actual frustration show. It’s about a month into your relationship, a month into making long distance work.

“I dunno,” you admit. “I think I’m just having a day where I miss you.”

“I’m here,” he says seriously, bringing his phone closer to his face. Disgusting, that you can see him so clearly that you can make out the affection in his gaze, and yet he’s still hundreds of miles away.

“I know,” you say. “But I guess I miss… the physical stuff.”

He grins wolfishly before you’re even done with the word “physical”, eyebrows waggling suggestively.

You laugh - you can’t help it. “I meant like… I could use a hug. But… yeah, that too, now that you mention it. A little stress relief would be nice.”

Jin shifts on your screen. “Hm,” he says tightly, voice suddenly different enough that it brings your attention to him sharply. “Well, how would you have handled that - before me?”

You feel yourself flush. “Jin,” you scold. “Don’t tease me.”

“As much as I do love to see you get flustered,” he admits, “I am very serious right now.”

How did you miss his expression darkening? Suddenly, his brows are starting to furrow, his eyes narrowed just slightly with intent focus. His voice touches on dangerous.

“What are you doing?” you ask him, words all mumbled through your embarrassment.

“If you can’t tell me, maybe you should just show me,” he suggests, that edge to his voice singing like the freshly forged metal of a gleaming sword.

“Oh my god,” you mutter, still mostly mortified. Only a little turned on. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“My normal way, is, uh… with some battery-powered assistance.”

You can’t even look at him.

“Why are you being shy about it?” he asks. “That’s hot. I wanna see - wanna see what you do. Wanna see you come undone.”

You almost gasp, and he makes the mistake of letting his breath out just a touch too loudly, shifting just a bit too suspiciously.

“Are you-?”

“Of fucking course I am,” he huffs, and now it’s obvious that he’s got his hand around his dick - the scrunch of his brows, his teeth on his bottom lip. “Come on, don’t let me party alone.”

“You’re such a dork.” Despite the insult, your thighs are rubbing together as if of their own volition, and you sneak your hand down to press against your core just once for relief.

“You’d forget all about that if I had my hands on you instead,” he asserts, voice low. “I’d like to see you call me names when I’m up to my knuckles in your -”

“Jin!”

“Am I wrong?” he smirks. You can tell by the way the phone shakes just so that he’s still stroking himself, slowly.

You have no answer to that.

“Come on,” he urges. “Let me see. I’m so hard.”

Your breath whooshes from you as he admits this. You’d never done this before - with anyone, not on video. It feels scary, but definitely fun. And, of course, you trust Jin implicitly. You know this will stay between you two.

“Take your shirt off,” you murmur, and the speed at which he obeys would be comical if you weren’t wet to the point of discomfort.

“You too,” he begs, voice going whiney for just a second. You hesitate, still a little shy, but finally you pull the material over your head, dropping it on the empty side of the bed for later. You roll sideways, placing your arm strategically to prop your tits up a bit.

“Now bottoms,” he instructs, half breathless. You’re slow to comply, eyes taking in the skin he’s revealed on-screen - tanned shoulders, pecs, dusky nipples, his flat tummy. Eventually you tear your eyes away enough to shimmy out of your pajama bottoms and panties, looking back at him expectantly.

Seokjin angles the camera down for a minute, displaying the way he’s got his fist around the base of his cock, holding it upright and proud for you. “See what you did?” he grunts, hand sliding up and squeezing the head before taking its place at the bottom again.

“You’ve got crimes to answer for, too,” you tease.

“Show me,” he says, the words tumbling from him. He shifts the camera back to focus on his face. “Please, baby, let me see you.”

It takes some maneuvering, but you manage to bend your leg and prop your phone up, reaching to keep one finger on the top to steady it. You try not to look at your own body on the screen, focusing instead on how Seokjin’s eyes go heavy-lidded as he takes you in, how his breath hitches when you slide your middle finger between your folds and swirl it around in the gathered slickness you find there.

He swears fiercely, and you almost laugh. It makes you warmer, wetter, knowing you can affect him like this.

“Spread them,” he commands, and you feel yourself clench at the words.

“Really?” you ask, though you know he means it. You just want to buy time, the feeling of being exposed new and a little frightening.

“Wanna see,” he repeats, lips barely moving to form the words.

Finally, you muster the courage and do as he asked with your thumb and forefinger, listening to the slick sound of his hand on his cock, the way his exhales carry the barest touch of a groan.

“Happy?” you ask after a minute of his huffed breaths, bringing the phone back up towards your face and unbending your leg.

“Won’t be happy until you come,” he mutters. “Show me what you do. Please?”

“Is that what you want?” you ask, feeling a little breathless. “Just do what I normally do and let you listen?”

“And watch,” he breathes.

You roll to dig through your nightstand drawer, coming out with a low-key but trusty bullet. When you click it on, Seokjin’s eyes fly to yours through the screen.

You follow his direction, tilting the camera so he can watch you slide it, on its lowest setting, over your entrance and up to your clit. You retrace this path three more times, slowly, lightly, your body warming up by degrees. When you finally settle it firmly over your clit and leave it, you can’t help the low, rolling moan you let out.

“That’s right,” Jin whispers. “Tell me how good it feels.”

“Not as good as you would,” you admit with a little laugh.

“Soon,” he promises. And then, “What would you want me to do?”

“God,” you utter, pressing the bullet tighter against your clit. “Anything - your fingers, your mouth - want you inside me.”

He can’t even answer you, eyes sliding closed for a second as he loses himself in your words, in the picture they play in his head, in the memories of you that they unravel.

“I- I’m getting close,” you warn him, the pulsing starting in gentle, easy waves, a warning sign.

He answers with a groan, and you click the bullet to a higher setting, letting your head fall back and your eyes drift closed as you lose yourself in the vibrations. The call is filled with the sound of steady buzzing, the slick skin-on-skin sound of Seokjin’s hand, both of your gasped and haggard breathing, punctuated by low groans and the occasional whine.

You grit his name between your teeth when you teeter closer.

“Let go,” he commands, his voice rumbling deeper than you’ve ever heard it. It’s a stark contrast to the higher-pitched whine he lets out when you do, a wordless wail sailing between your lips as your legs shake and your whole body tightens. He comes with a cry before you’ve even caught your breath, quiet and stillness finally settling over you both as you click off your bullet and toss it sideways on your bed to clean off later.

He smiles beatifically, some of his hair stuck to his forehead. “That was fun,” he says, leaning to reach for something, you assume to clean himself off with. “You feel better?”

“Yeah,” you agree breathlessly, legs still twitching a little. “But not as good as I could. Not as good as if you were here.”

“Soon,” he promises again, eyes crinkling as he smiles at you. “I promise. I’ll be with you soon.”

–

[9:28 AM] You: good morningggg [12:03 PM] You: wow, busy today huh? hope it’s a good busy and not a shitty busy 😘 [5:02 PM] You: heading home! call me if you get a second? [10:41 PM] You: ok well i’m going to bed… talk tmrw maybe. Goodnight.

You sleep fitfully, filled with unease and disappointment. Your phone’s vibrations wake you close to midnight. You answer it without checking the screen.

“Mm’lo?” you manage, eyes still closed.

“Baby, I am so sorry,” Seokjin blurts through the line. “I literally just got home.”

Your mind, still mostly asleep, is muddy. “Hmm,” you breathe, trying to process, trying to make coherent words. “It’s so late.”

“I know,” he says sorrowfully. “I was running in circles all day, I legitimately don’t think I’ve peed since morning.”

You let another breath that’s kind of like a sigh. “That’s not healthy,” you murmur.

He laughs a little. “Tell me about it. Anyway, I’m sorry I was MIA all day. I hope you didn’t worry.”

“I didn’t worry,” you tell him, starting to wake up a little. “I knew you were working. Missed you, though.”

“I missed you, too.”

“You were too busy to miss me.”

He laughs again. “Well, I miss you now.” Then, almost to himself, “The moon’s pretty tonight. Looks almost full.”

You shimmy to the edge of your bed, where you can peek through your sheer curtains. The moon is very full, visible just above rooftops across the street.

“I see it,” you tell him sleepily. It gives you a sense of peace that, although you’re far away, although you really failed as a couple at communication today, at least you can share this - the pure white moonlight, the darkened mares barely visible.

You both go silent for a few minutes, and you keep your eyes on the moon.

“Hey,” Seokjin says softly. “I know today sucked. It won’t always be like this, okay? One more month - not even a whole month - and we won’t ever have days like this again.”

“Yeah,” you say, a little unconvinced.

“We won’t,” he assures you. “I’ll make sure of it. You’ll be sick of me in no time.”

“Can’t wait,” you tell him with a yawn, finally scooting back into the warm spot you’d vacated, ready for sleep to find you again.

–

Seokjin’s new apartment - a fifty-three minute drive from your own, you timed it - is admittedly really nice. Nicer than your “swanky” one.

“God, this kitchen,” you marvel after dropping a box of his cutting boards and mixing bowls onto the kitchen counter. “It’s almost enough to make me want to learn to cook more.”

He laughs. “I think I told the agent yes based on this room alone.”

Most of the big furniture pieces were brought up by the moving company Jin had hired, so you help him unload the rest of the boxes from his car and you both look around, trying to determine the best place to start.

“I’m going to find my sheet sets and set up my bed,” he decides, eyes scanning the many boxes. “That way when we tire ourselves out, it’s ready to go. Can you… maybe find the bag with all my toiletries and get that stuff in the bathroom?”

“Aye-aye, captain!” you chirp, starting to wade into the sea of cardboard, but Seokjin tugs you back gently by your shirt’s hem.

“What?” you ask him, a little giggly.

“What are you so happy about?” he teases, pulling you close and resting his mouth near your temple, not quite a kiss.

You shrug, wrapping your arms around his middle and welcoming the hug. You never want to go three months without him ever again.

“Just…” you say, trailing off to think. “Just happy that you’re here.”

“Yeah,” he smiles. “This is better, right?”

“Couldn’t hug you before,” you agree.

His smile goes sideways. “Lots of things we couldn’t do before.”

You laugh, pushing him away playfully. “Can’t do that until you set the bed up!”

“That is simply untrue,” he points out, even as he heads towards a box clearly labeled linens/blankets/pillows. “You just lost creativity points.”

You roll your eyes, unable to do anything about the grin on your face, and get to work searching for his shampoo.

Later, after you finished the bathroom and started putting laundry away and after Jin spent a solid two hours hooking up all his consoles and messing with the wiring, you lay sideways across his newly made bed, feeling like the bones have melted out of your body.

“Unpacking is exhausting,” you complain. “I was going to drive home tonight so I could sleep later in the morning, but I don’t think I can.”

“Good,” Jin murmurs, sounding half-asleep himself. He rolls and throws an arm heavily over your middle, tugs you closer. “Stay here with me. Stay all night.”

I think… I could stay forever, you think.

–

[10:06 AM] You: morning 😘 today’s gonna be a really rough day at work for me so don’t worry if you dont hear from me until late, ok? [10:06 AM] Jin 🥰: yeah i remembered. good luck, you’ve got this! [10:06 AM] Jin 🥰: I’ll see you tonight at my place right? [10:07 AM] You: yes - the only thing getting me through the dayyy

By the time you stagger to your car, it’s been dark for hours. Your feet are throbbing in pain, your back feels like you wrestled an elephant, and you’re so tired you almost consider a nap in the backseat.

And then you remember - you’re supposed to drive the hour to Jin’s place tonight. In the six months Jin has been in his new place, you’ve taken turns every few nights making the trek back and forth. Tonight is your turn.

Or, is supposed to be.

You two had only canceled once before, on a night when a terrible rainstorm swept through and made the roads unsafe. Apart from that, you’d always shown up - or he had.

Guilt, and the desire to see Jin, wage war against your exhaustion until you’re nearly in tears over it. You just don’t know what to do - try and make the drive, or wave the white flag and just go home to a hot shower and, finally, some dinner.

Eventually, you turn on the car and start towards home, calling Jin as you go.

“Well, look who it is,” he greets you warmly.

You sniff in reply. “Jin? I don’t think I’m coming there tonight. I’m really sorry. I’m just - I’m so tired, I feel like it wouldn’t be safe - and I haven’t eaten anything since before work and -”

“Hey,” he interrupts you gently. “It’s fine. Do you want me to come there?”

You glance at the clock on the dashboard. “Honestly,” you say, mournful, “I don’t think it’s worth it. I won’t be awake, and even if I am, I won’t be fun.”

“I don’t care if you’re fun,” he says. You know he means it. But still.

“I”m just gonna go home, eat, shower, and pass out,” you say, feeling utterly defeated. “I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he says.

You still cry, quietly, mostly out of frustration, the rest of the way home, even after you’ve hung up. Going home to him would have been exactly what you needed tonight, and it feels deeply unfair that you can’t have that.

You eat first, scarfing down leftovers you pull from your fridge, not even bothering to put on a tv show for noise. You barely even sit down. A hot shower does wonders, and soon you’re collapsing into bed, hardly having the strength to roll over and reach for your charger’s cord. You text Jin another apology and a sweet goodnight, but you’re asleep before he can answer, lost to the dark.

You wake up confused, still engulfed in darkness. It feels like you’ve only been asleep for minutes. You become aware of a noise near the end of your bed and your adrenaline spikes. You sit up, reaching for your phone.

“Don’t mace me,” Jin laughs, coming around the side of the bed and moving the blankets so he can slide in next to you.

You’re frozen, uncomprehending. “Jin?”

“The one and only,” he quips, rolling to cling to your back. “Surprise.”

“I told you not to come!” you splutter.

“Should I leave?” he asks wryly, and you grab his wrist as if he might.

“Don’t you dare,” you say, heart rate starting to calm now that you’ve discovered there isn’t a murderer in your apartment. “God, your feet are like icicles.”

He hums a laugh into your hair, runs a hand down your arm. “Go back to sleep,” he tells you.

You try to listen, scrumping around until you’re comfy again, his body warm and solid behind yours. “Can’t believe you drove here in the middle of the night,” you say finally, a touch of disbelief in your voice. “You’re out of your mind.”

He pulls you tight and then releases you. “Just try and keep me away,” he dares the universe, voice low next to your ear.

You slowly drift back towards sleep, breathing going even and deep. The last thing you remember before you go under is whispering, “Thank you.” To him. Maybe to the universe.

–

“I can’t believe I’m doing this for the second time in less than a year,” Seokjin grumbles from his side of the couch that the two of you are trying - and currently, failing - to get up a stairwell.

“Are you complaining?” you ask, a bit of challenge in your voice. “Are you complaining after your amazing girlfriend found the best apartment, perfectly situated halfway between our jobs, and secured it - all while you were locked into Overwatch? Are you complaining that the living an hour away problem is finally over after an entire year? No more stupid-early commutes, or only seeing each other long enough to sleep - you have complaints?”

“I am complaining,” he asserts, shifting the couch in his hands, “about the physical labor.”

When you get to a good stopping point, hours later, you lean heavily against the kitchen counter. “Should we peruse our new home’s take-out options?” you ask, starting to reach for your phone.

Seokjin doesn’t answer, which causes you to look up and assess why not. When you meet his gaze, he’s got a look in his eyes that you’re starting to know well.

“Seriously?” you ask with a laugh. “You’re not too tired?”

“For you?” he scoffs, moving closer, predatory. “Never.”

“I’m all sweaty…”

“I deeply do not care.”

“I can do approximately zero percent of the work,” you warn him.

He towers over you, hands coming to grip the counter on either side of your body, caging you in. “Wasn’t planning on you doing any work at all,” he admits darkly, mouth close enough to your ear to tickle. “I’m suddenly remembering almost a year ago, when I promised to bend you over the kitchen table someday. And now, we have our own kitchen table, in our brand new place together.”

Your grin turns predatory in turn. “Alright, you convinced me.”

“Good,” he grunts, and grips your jaw gently enough that it doesn’t hurt, firmly enough that he can easily tilt you back to receive his biting, desperate kiss.

You moan immediately, melting back against the counter, thrilled by his urgency. You peel off his shirt, letting it drop onto the hardwood beneath your feet, and yours follows soon after. You lift your arms obediently when Jin tugs at the band of your sports bra, rolling it up and sliding it over your arms. He encases you with his arms, kissing you deeply, and you slide your hands down his stomach as you slide your tongue over his.

It isn’t long before he’s tugging your leggings and panties down in one hand, and you use your feet to free yourself the rest of the way. He’s rough today as he slides his digits between your legs, barely slicking them up before pushing two fingers as far into you as he can, twisting them before pulling them out again.

You breathe his name, clinging to him desperately, hips pushing back against him as he pumps his fingers in and out of you indelicately, causing the last syllable of his name to come out on a whine. You push absently at the waistband of his joggers, too weakly to actually get them anywhere. You make a noise of complaint, and he laughs lowly, punctuating the sound with a particularly vicious flick of the wrist, sending his fingers pistoning into your front wall.

“Jin,” you wail, assaulted by the sudden sensation. “Please, I -”

“Awfully needy for someone who had to be convinced,” he smirks, and if you weren’t halfway to your first orgasm of the night you might have whacked him for it.

But then his fingers are slipping out of you, and he’s pushing his joggers and boxers to the ground and pulling you towards the table, telling you quietly, “C’mere.”

When he said bend you over, he meant bend you over, apparently, because as soon as he has you close enough he’s spinning you to face the table, one palm firmly pushing between your shoulder blades until your front presses against the tabletop.

“This okay?” he murmurs behind you, the same hand that pushed you into place caressing a worshipful pattern back down your ribs, sliding over your ass and resting there, waiting.

“Very,” you groan, and shudder when he answers this by leaning his body over your back, his hands splayed on either side of your ribcage, holding him up.

“In that case,” he says, “arms up. Hold the other side.”

Your breath leaves you audibly and you obey, reaching to grip the opposite side of the table. He strokes the curve of your ass again, and then you feel him run the head of his cock up and down your slit - it sends a white-pleasure shock through you when it rubs firmly over your clit and you try to catch it on your entrance as he slides back up.

You whine again, and he chuckles before finally pushing into you.

You both groan as he bottoms out, yours turning to a gasp as he bumps something deep inside you that makes your entire abdomen flex in response.

“Shit,” you gasp, “you’re so deep this way -”

“Fuck,” he growls, the word torn from his throat as he starts to move. “Why are you so tight, I’m gonna last two minutes like this, damn -”

“Because I’m about three seconds from coming,” you say - or you try to. It comes out more like a moan, your voice shaky and tremulous, betraying you completely.

“Do it then,” he says, gripping your hips with one hand and reaching around to find your clit with another as he keeps a torturously steady pace. “Come all over me.”

His nimble fingers do the trick and it’s only seconds later that you’re following directions, pressing your forehead desperately into the wood of the table as your body trembles and shakes beneath Jin’s hands.

You feel your toes curling against the hardwood floor, feel your fingers go tight against the table’s edge, feel your pussy clench around him again and again and again, feel the sensation of light race down your legs and out to your fingertips, feel Jin’s cock slide against your pulsing walls, feel his hands come to your hips to pull you against each stroke.

You hear your first gasped breath, hear the slap of skin on skin, hear the huffs and groans of Jin’s broken breathing behind you as you slowly come back into your body, as the tremors in your legs die back down to tiny, interspersed shakes.

“Holy shit,” you manage, lifting your head off the table and trying to look at him over your shoulder.

“Can you take more?” he checks, his hand twitching on your hip like he’s keeping it in line.

“Yeah,” you breathe.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he whispers, and pulls your hips flush against his, slamming into you, sliding out, slamming in again until you’re keening out syllables that don’t add up to words, eyes screwed shut, exhales warbling out like sobs.

“Take it so well,” he praises, his voice shattered, the words coming through a clenched jaw, as he breathes and focuses and tries to hang on, hips snapping.

He slows his pace and reaches for your shoulder, pulling you to straighten up, your back flush against his sticky chest. You moan at the change of angle, and then he slips out of you, turns you around again and lets you sit on the edge of the table. He reaches one arm around your shoulders to brace you and slides back in slowly.

Your head falls back, eyes closed.

“Can you look at me?” he breathes, chest jumping as he tries to keep it together.

With difficulty, you lift your head and open your eyes, finding his watching you intently. Gazes locked, he pumps once, twice, three more times and comes with a shudder, his head falling onto your shoulder as he spasms and groans deep and loud.

His hips slow and then eventually come to a stop. He stays buried deep inside you, lifting his head from your shoulder and bringing his other arm around your back.

“I don’t think I can walk,” you tell him thickly, your legs shaking.

He slips out of you gently, reaching down to wipe away a bit of mess that followed onto your thigh. “Don’t walk, then,” he tells you, and guides your arms around his neck before lifting you and carrying you through your new apartment towards the en suite.

He sets you gently on the edge of the tub and reaches to turn the shower on full blast. “Did we find towels?” he asks.

You lean against the tiled wall. “The box is on the bed.”

“Okay,” he says, then crouches down before you. “You good?”

“Mhm,” you tell him. He retreats, and you hear the telltale sign of tape being ripped off cardboard. He returns with two towels in hand and gently lifts you, guiding you over the edge of the tub and into the warm spray of water.

You lean against him heavily, sleepiness coming over you like a fog. He runs a hand over your hair affectionately, then leans down to whisper, “Four rooms to go.”

–

“Jin? Is the table set?”

“It’s set.”

“Can you open the wine?”

“Opening.”

“What about the -”

Seokjin takes your hands. You hadn’t even heard him enter the room. You’re too frazzled to even be startled.

“What are you so nervous for?” he asks, peering at you. “It’s Minji and Jungkook and our parents. We could literally serve pizza bagels in our pajamas and it would be fine.”

You sniff. “That actually sounds really good.”

Seokjin looks at you indulgently. “They won’t be here for another half hour. We have lots of time.”

“Okay,” you sigh. “You’re right. It’s just my first time hosting everyone at the same time here, in our place together - it just feels… significant.” Your parents and Seokjin’s family had been to the place you share several times in the last few months, but never together. Never for an event.

“I’m not saying I disagree,” he says gently. “But I promise, everything is more than fine.”

“You’re right,” you say, still unable to help, but glancing around the eating area for any detail you may have missed.

“Why don’t we try the wine?” Jin suggests.

“That’s for later,” you remind him.

“There’s plenty. We should make sure it’s good.” He sends you a wink.

You sigh, knowing exactly what he’s up to. “A small pour,” you instruct. “I’m gonna go grab my phone off the charger, I’ll be right there.”

You step through your bedroom without bothering to turn the lamp on, moving by memory over to your nightstand where your phone awaits. When you turn around to head back, you bump into Seokjin, lingering behind you in the shadowy room.

“What are you doing?” you laugh. “I thought you were opening the wine.”

He takes your hands again, how he had just minutes ago by the kitchen table. “You’re right,” he says, ignoring your question. “Tonight does feel significant.”

You feel your brows furrow. “Jin?”

He takes a breath, like he’s steadying himself. “There’s something I want to ask you before everyone gets here.”

Your heart drops into your ass.

He continues. “I thought for a long time about all the different ways I could do this, because you deserve something spectacular. But, I got tired of waiting for an idea that felt good enough and I just want you. So…” He trails off, digs in his pocket, pushes something square and velvet into your hands.

“Jin,” you whisper, heart pounding. It feels right, somehow, that it’s happening like this. Just you and him, the apartment - the world - silent around you, speaking quietly through the dark.

It’s always been you and Seokjin, in the dark.

“So,” he continues, like if he stops he’ll lose his nerve, “I want to ask you… if you want to get married. If you’ll marry me.”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “Yes.”

He wraps you in a hug, and you say, muffled by his shirt, “Can we go back in the light so I can see the ring?”

Later, he sends you a sly sideways smile. “You know my sister’s going to spot that before she’s even through the door.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Maybe I’ll keep my hands in my pockets all night, just so I don’t have to hear her.”

He bumps you lightly with his hip so you’ll look up at him. “Are you happy?” he asks quietly.

You think about everything you’ve been through - a lifetime of wanting, years of misunderstanding, and over a year between figuring it out and now. Finally, finally, everything has aligned, every piece in place.

“Never been happier,” you tell him, resting a hand on his heart.

“Good,” he says, leaning down to kiss your temple. “Let’s stay that way for a long, long time.”

–

“No, you hang up first!” Minji squealed for the ninth time, before blowing many kisses into the phone and finally hanging up with her boyfriend. She was twenty, in love, and had somehow lost you from her bedroom during the course of the phone call.

Calling your name quietly, she’d left her bedroom, typing a text to you as she peered into each of the rooms of the house, even the basement where Jungkook and his friends were still drinking.

“Don’t get alcohol poisoning,” she warned them. “Has anyone seen Y/N?”

Finally, she decided you must have gone home and started padding back to her bedroom, sending you one more angry text to find in the morning.

As she passed Seokjin’s room, she noticed his door was open about a foot. She stepped closer, just meaning to pull it closed - they did that for each other if they fell asleep with it open, it was just muscle-memory at that point - and then froze.

You were in Seokjin’s bed, fast asleep, curled up facing the door. For a second, she thought you were alone, but then she spotted Jin’s arm over your belly, his shoulders peeking out from behind yours.

She bit her lip, staring, silent. In his sleep, Seokjin’s arm flexed against you, and Minji watched as you instinctively reached up to touch his arm, butterfly light, before letting your hand fall back to the mattress again.

She closed the door quietly, continued down the hall to her own room.

She knew better than to interfere, knew better than to meddle and mess it up. But still...

Maybe someday, she thought. Maybe someday you’d figure it out.

<- Prev

wow i can't believe it's over!! thank you so much for being here along the way - i know this was very different from my normal and i hope you had a really fun time reading! <3

350 notes · View notes

niki-phoria · 9 months

Note

omg you do song fics?😍 can i request a bi!soobin x male reader to “i do” by g-idle?

pairing: bi!uni student!soobin x uni student!male!reader (referred to as a boy once) genre: fluff (??) a little angsty word count: 1.1k

includes: confession fic, uni au, ending is a little weird, reader cries, didn't want this to be too angsty, my greatest apologies if your name is mina lol

a/n: thank you for requesting !! i don't mind doing songfics at all :)) i hope you like it <33

soobin lets out a soft sigh as he enters your shared apartment. his bag crumbles in a small heap on the floor beside his bed before he wanders over to you. he all but collapses onto your mattress beside you, making you softly chuckle.

you set your phone aside; instagram feed long forgotten as you shift to lay down next to him. soobin buries his face into one of your pillows. his tense body relaxes slightly when you reach over to gently rub a hand against his back.

“are you okay?” soobin simply hums in response, though the strangled noise is muffled by his arms and the pillows he’s laying against. “bad day?”

despite the pillow blocking his face, you can see him nod slightly. a small smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you pat his thigh. “come here, bin.”

the boy perks up immediately at your words. you chuckle as he wastes no time in making himself comfortable in your lap. his head rests against your thighs; the rest of his body curled up on your twin sized bed. he smiles to himself as you begin to play with his hair, twisting the soft strands between your fingers.

you fall into a comfortable silence together for a few minutes before you notice soobin catch his bottom lip between his teeth. his jaw clenches the darker the thoughts clouding his brain become. he absentmindedly fidgets with his fingers as you continue raking your fingers through his dark locks.

“hey,” you whisper, catching soobin’s attention. he looks up at you through his dark fringe - your cue to continue. “what’s on your mind?”

a soft sigh escapes his lips. his gaze shifts up to stare at the ceiling. he studies the drywall adorning your dorm room as if an answer is hidden in the material.

“someone gave me a love letter… earlier today,” he finally says.

i don’t even know how to think

‘cause now she got your heart, so i feel stupid, foolish

you pause your movements almost instantaneously as the words leave his lips. they linger uncomfortably in the air like a thick fog that clouds your judgement. tension holds you both captive in the room. you feel like a caged animal - the chains of your own feelings tightly wrapped around your limbs and keeping you trapped exactly where you are.

you can nearly feel your heart stop beating in your chest. your breath catches in the back of your throat. an unfamiliar feeling of heartbreak curls inside of your stomach. it slinks through your intestines - working it’s way upwards to press against your chest.

“who was it from?” your voice trembles, though you hope soobin can’t hear the anxiety that drips from each word.

“mina.”

you know mina from your english class. she had silently slipped into the room after getting lost on her way to the lecture hall. she has a bright smile and kind eyes. even you can admit her laugh is contagious. it lights up every room she’s in. she’s perfect. perfect for soobin.

‘fraid i’m losing everything i thought i couldn’t

my whole world is fallin’ apart

you swallow your grief, forcing it deep into your chest. “she’s nice,” you murmur. “pretty. i like her. she’d be good for you.” but i would be better.

soobin hums. his eyes meet yours momentarily before he stares up at the ceiling once again. “do you really think so?”

you remain silent for a few seconds. you refocus on playing with soobin’s hair, letting the methodical action calm your racing heartbeat. a shaky sigh leaves your lips before you speak again. “do you like her?”

“i don’t know.” he pauses, anxiously tugging his bottom lip between his teeth again - a nervous habit you had always found particularly attractive. “i think i like someone else.”

don’t you go fallin’ in love

trust me, she’s not the one

a small spark of hope ignites in your chest before you quickly stomp it out. you’re roommates. two university students who happened to be assigned to the same dorm room. you’re friendly because you’re both introverted and spend most of your time around each other. your skinship is simply two boys being friendly - nothing more.

“soobin,” you murmur. tears sting at the corners of your eyes. they threaten to roll down your cheeks. you bite your tongue in an attempt to hold them back to little avail.

soobin sits up from your lap, furrowing his eyebrows in concern. “what’s wrong?” he whispers. the warm hand he places against your knee does little to soothe your aching heart, though you appreciate the gesture nonetheless.

you stare down at your hands, anxiously fidgeting with the rings on your fingers. soobin gently begins to rub small shapes against your leg in an attempt to calm you down. you twist the thin, cool metal against your skin as you mentally prepare yourself for rejection. anger. heartbreak.

“i’m in love with you.”

she won’t ever love you like i do

hold you like i do, know you like i do

the words come out as little more than a broken whisper. soobin’s movements stop momentarily - though what was realistically a few seconds feels like an eternity of waiting.

“y/n,” soobin finally whispers. his voice is soft. gentle. you bite down on your tongue harder. tears slowly begin to roll down your cheeks; at first in single drops before streams quickly begin falling from your eyes.

you’re unable to prevent the choked sob that escapes when soobin cups your cheek. his touch feels far too intimate to be just from a roommate. an acquaintance.

soobin brushes his thumb against your cheek, wiping away the tears as fast as they come. you go limp in his arms when he pulls you into a tight hug, keeping you tightly pressed against his chest. “i’m sorry,” you murmur into the crook of his neck. embarrassment mixes with your grief. your head aches at the sudden flood of emotion. “i don’t wanna lose you.”

“you won’t,” soobin whispers. he rubs a hand against your back. you let the feeling soothe you - at least momentarily. “you never will.” he gently coaxes you away from his neck so you’re looking into his dark eyes. “i love you too.”

you sniffle, hesitantly looking up at him once again. “really?”

“really.” soobin pulls you back into a hug, letting you cling to his body. he presses a kiss against your forehead as his arms snake around your waist. “i love you, y/n."

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mango-bango-bby · 1 year

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Can you write the ❤️ prompt with Dabi? Maybe he met reader at Sekoto peak one day and became friends. After becoming Dabi and finding you, he’s just so smitten and reminded of the crush he used to have on reader

♡ Found You ♡

(A/N: Ahhhh happy Valentine’s Day, everyone!! I hope you all have a great Valentine’s Day 💗 I know that for me I’m considering all of you my valentines lol!! Anyways I hope you like this, I think childhood friends au’s are so cute 🥰🥰🌹)

Content Warning ⚠️: Yandere, childhood friend au, angst, some fluff, stalking, reader loves Dabi back, hugging and kissing, this is a very long fic lol

Summary: You and Dabi grew up together. After Dabi finally reveals his identity, you’re on a mission to find him again (Yan!Dabi x GN!reader)

Masterlist ➸ ♡

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

To be completely honest, there wasn’t a day that went by that Dabi didn’t at least think of you. It wasn’t as if you ever disappeared from his life although he had disappeared from yours. He could only assume you thought he, Touya, was dead. However he wasn’t he had been following you, he had been watching you. He would follow you as you did mundane things, going to work, going to the store, he just wanted to watch you from afar. He just felt the need to check on you, although he had been simply watching you for years.

Or perhaps it was because he was in love with you. As he had been since you two were children. You two had met when you were kids. You were the only person he felt he could trust, he would go to you for comfort after training or his fathers' abuse. You would hug him, you would tell him everything was going to be alright.

You used to promise him that you and he would run away together, that he’d be able to escape his father and you’d run away with him. Of course, that’s not how things went down, he had run away to become a villain while a teenager. He had apologized to you the night before he left, you didn’t know what he had apologized for at the time. And frankly, it still confused you to this day.

Of course, Dabi felt guilty seeing you grieve over him as if he were dead, although he supposed that Touya was dead. You would sometimes notice the bright blue eyes staring at you, although you assumed it was your imagination. The grief of losing your best friend still affected you to the point you thought you would hallucinate his eyes.

Dabi knew if he were to reveal his identity that everyone would know. He knew you would be aware of what he had become, that he had become a villain. Dabi mainly thought about defeating Endeavor and showing the world what he really was but there was the other part of him that wondered how you would react.

You sat in front of the TV, sitting on the floor directly in front of it. You watched the fight between the league of villains, specifically Dabi, and Endeavor in real time on the news. You didn’t really care much for what happened to Endeavor as you had despised him since childhood. Although you only hoped that Shoto would be alright as you still remember the little boy who you would ask to not tell his father about you sneaking into the house to hang out with Touya.

Your mind doesn’t even register the rest of the fight after Dabi showed his true identity. The moment that he poured that water on his head and the black faded, you recognized him. You stare blankly at the screen, large tears welling up him your eyes. The tears slowly dripped down your face, landing on the floor of your apartment and on your hands.

It all made sense now that you thought about it. The apology he said before he left. Even the eyes you would see or the figure of a person, it was him watching you. You knew that you had to find him again. You knew trying to find a villain would be dangerous but being honest, it didn’t matter to you

♡ ♡ ♡

Dabi groaned at the relentless pounding on the door. He doesn’t think anyone has ever knocked on his door before. His apartment was falling apart and barely anyone lived in the seemingly abandoned. He still had injuries from the fight however the pain was manageable.

He opened the door, putting on an intimidating face so whoever was going to bother him would leave. But instead, he opened up the door to you. You stood in the doorway, your breath coming out in puffs because of the cold weather. You stand with a stern, almost mad look on your face. Although that look on your face quickly fades after you’re finally face to face with him.

Dabi opens his mouth to speak, being cut off by you throwing yourself at him. You wrap your arms around him, holding tightly onto his back as if he would disappear at any moment. The door shuts on its own after he lets go of it. Dabi wraps his arms around you, pressing your face into his chest. This is the first time he’s touched you in years, felt you again. “Y/n..” Dabi mumbles, not exactly sure what to say.

“I missed you so much” you sob into his chest before immediately pulling away, hitting him in the chest. “But also, you asshole!” You yell, tears still rolling down your angry face. “Why couldn’t you have told me!? I thought you died! Every day I had to deal with your death, Touya!” You yell, pounding your fists against his chest although it wasn’t hard. Or at least it wasn’t hard for him.

“I thought you died..” you mumbled, pulling him back into a hug. “I’m sorry, doll” Dabi mumbles, using the same nickname he used to tease you with when you were teenagers. You pull away for a moment, running your fingers over the bandages covering the injuries on his arms. You look up at his face, seeing how intense his scars had gotten over the years.

“Your scars…” you mumble, grabbing his face in your hands gently. Dabi can’t help but almost recoil a little at the unexpected touch. Although the way your skin feels against him is just too good, almost intoxicating.

“What? You don’t like em’?” He asks, almost trying to lighten the mood. Your red, puffy eyes look over the scars before you speak. “They look- painful,” you say, that concerned look in your eyes. You still had the same empathy you had when you two were children.

Dabi avoids your remark, instead switching the subject. He grabs your face as well, making you look at him. “How did you even find me?” He asked, watching you giggle a bit. “It’s a really long story but I paid a lot of money, pretended to be an aspiring villain, and spent a lot of time trying to track you down,” you say.

You’re almost being able to see the way Dabi’s mind races at the fact you had been around such dangerous people to try and find him. You had gotten involved with such a dangerous crowd just to see him again, meanwhile, he had been watching you for years yet had been too cowardly to do anything.

Dabi doesn’t think as he looks into your eyes, watching you seemingly get confused by how he just stares at you. “Uh- Touya?” you smile, chuckling awkwardly before Dabi immediately pulls you in for a kiss. He holds onto you as if you would run away from him or try to get out of the kiss. Of course, you were shocked but you fully accepted it.

You thread your fingers through his hair. You pull away for only a moment to catch your breath except in that small moment of you puking away, Dabi’s able to take advantage of that and pull you into an even deeper kiss. It’s after a few seconds or even a minute of making out, he finally pulls away.

You almost wheeze after he pulls away from how deep he was kissing you. “I’ve been waiting to do that forever,” Dabi says, watching you smile a bit at his words.

“Honestly, me too”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Thank you for reading, darling!!

#happy valentine’s day darlings 💖#yandere!dabi #yandere dabi x reader #yandere dabi #soft yandere dabi #soft yandere #yandere!dabi x reader #soft yandere!dabi

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hockeyblogg · 20 days

Text

Not Enough - F. Andersen

I'm afraid to say i'm officially back so i'm not going to :| however, I have been getting more inspired to write and I have a few works that i've been wanting to post.

this drabble is full of angst which is something i've been writing a lot more...and before you say it, No...this isn't a self indulgent fic lol. It's simply something I thought of when I gained motivation while watching kdramas

in whatever way you take this, i just hope you enjoy it :) it's been a while so forgive me...

Fred walked in your shared apartment, placing his keys down and wiping his forehead to rid himself of the sweat he still produced from practice.

He would have showered at the arena, but he hoped you’d be willing to shower with him when he got home, seeing as you both haven’t had too much time for each other in the last two months due to your new promotion at work and the Canes being in the playoffs, and now that it’s the weekend and you’re both free for the first time in what feels like forever, he’s been a little excited to spend some quality time with his girlfriend.

You on the other hand, had just finished packing an overnight bag and are now sitting on the edge of your bed, tears now dried on your cheeks with new ones threatening to leak over your eyelashes.

You knew your and Fred’s relationship was on the rockier side for awhile, barely seeing each other despite living together, having little to no time to say more than two words to each other. You knew it was getting to Freddie, but you also hoped that you’d pull through, like you always do.

You didn’t expect this.

“Hey elskede.” Freddie’s words made you jump, quickly turning your head to look up at his figure entering the room.

Freddie’s smile turned down, a look of concern washing over his face upon seeing your dried tears and red eyes, “What’s wrong baby?”

You could practically scoff at his audacity.

“Why don’t you ask Brady, you two seem to have gotten awfully close lately.” You mutter bitterly, wiping your nose and cheeks with your sleeve

Freddie’s heart stops for a second,

no…there’s no way you found out…

“Elskede, what are you talking about?” He’s playing dumb, he knows he is, but in his defence, he never thought you’d ever find out.

“Freddie please, the last thing I need right now is for you to lie to me, I already know…I just-I need to hear you say it.”

You’re practically falling apart in front of him, the news hit you like a ton of bricks, and you don’t know if there’s any hope for your relationship after this.

“Let me explain…” Fred started but paused when you closed your eyes and sighed defeatedly

“W-we were going through a tough spot in our relationship a-and I didn’t know what to do, when you said you couldn’t attend Mitchy’s wedding I was even more frustrated, and the guys wanted me to loosen up so-”

Catching his words, you cut him off, “Woah, wait-wait!”

Freddie stops.

“You mean to tell me…that this has been going on since Mitch and Steph’s wedding?!”

Realizing his mistake, Fred can’t say anymore, knowing he fucked up.

It made since now; the arguments about his lack of free time, the last minute “new year’s trip” to see his family, him being way busier this time around the playoffs than usual, having a newfound understanding of all your late-night workdays, his late evening workdays where you assumed practice ran later than usual…

“Oh my god…I’m such a fucking idiot!”

You couldn’t take it anymore, you gather your things and sling your bag over your shoulder, a fresh set of tears flowing freely

Fred moves fast, grabbing your upper arm, “No please, elskede you can’t-”

“I can’t leave? Not only did I find out you cheated on me, but I find out it’s been multiple times, since Mitch’s wedding which was what, in July? It’s fucking April you piece of shit!”

You push him off you and rip your arm from his grasp, “So yeah, I think it’s safe to say I’m allowed to leave you.”

Tears are gathering in Freddie’s eyes, and he finds himself losing control of his breathing, “Please, I’m sorry baby, don’t leave, I’ll fix this.”

He follows you out of the room, and as soon as you open the door, he smacks his palm against it, slamming it back shut

“Fred, move!”

You aren’t in the mood for games, but Fred isn’t willing to give you up this easily

Taking a deep breath, you will yourself to look in him in the eyes, almost breaking at the fact they’re even redder than yours, but you remind yourself this is his fault, he did this to you both,

“Just…tell me one thing…”

He puts his full attention on you, reaching to hold your hands in his

“Were they different every time, or is it the same person?” You’re honestly scared of the answer, not sure which one will make you break more. If it’s multiple, then there’s something he’s missing that you guys no longer have in your relationship, but if it’s just one girl, then there’s something he’s missing within you.

He’s quiet, and you’re searching his face for any sort of hint or giveaway. When his face drops, you have it.

“Well…” you muster all of the strength you have inside you, “I hope she was worth losing everything that we had, everything I sacrificed to build this life with you, a life that was so easy for you to throw away.”

You shake his hands off you, ripping the door open and leaving him for good, “Goodbye Freddie.”

Fred falls to his knees as soon as the door closes, letting out everything he was holding in.

“FUUUCK!!” He grabs the shoe rack in the closet, tossing it to the living room and hearing a loud crash to which he pays no mind, it doesn’t matter anyway.

Nothing matters anymore, he’s lost you for good and it’s nobody’s fault but his own. He knows he can only call one person right now, someone he knows won’t be upset with him, someone he knows he really shouldn’t call, especially right now. But Freddie is in love, or at least, that’s what he thinks.

Freddie is simply infatuated, he’s in love with the idea of what is, and honestly, what better way to take his mind off you than to call the one person he knows can do just that.

Picking his phone up, he swallows back all the guilt and sorrow he’s feeling right now,

“Hey Anna, you should come over…”

#frederik andersen #frederik andersen imagines #freddie andersen imagines #frederik andersen x reader #freddie x reader #fandersen #freddie andersen x reader #my writings

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swordsmans · 9 months

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New op fan anon here again, I’m currently rotating zoro in my brain like a rotisserie chicken (mostly because I wanted to wait until I was done to start thinking(tm) about him)

With that being said, one thing I really love about him is his loyalty, and how that’s just. A key zoro trait. Not even just to Luffy, but to a lot of other people. Sure it’s more selective than Luffy, but his whole dream is based off of a promise he made to a dead friend yknow? Like beginning of series he was willing to literally crucify himself for other people. Idk I might be totally misreading this but I think it’s interesting!

omg hi welcome back! and yeah!!! i agree, i think it’s really interesting! his like… deep sense of honor is such an essential part of his character.

one of my favorite things about the straw hats in general is how they each kind of have a “core” character trait their whole thing revolves around. not just like “augh robin smart!” but something a little more abstract. it makes them very fun to pick apart and analyze because there’s always a baseline to fall back on. personal interpretation, maybe, and there’s obviously overlap—but off the top of my head you’ve got freedom (luffy), strength (chopper), compassion (sanji), perseverance/resilience (robin), bravery (usopp), joy (brook), wisdom/duty (jinbei), steadiness (franky), companionship/family (nami). (each character has more than one obvs but im speaking broadly here)

i’d say yeah, loyalty is zoro’s core abstract trait! (or one of them. you know what i mean.) he was willing to go through immense suffering for Rika before the series even officially begins—not necessarily death imo because he was fully convinced he would win helmeppo’s bargain—and he’s continually willing to take on bodily harm for the sake of the crew throughout the series. cutting off his legs, throwing himself in danger, the whole “if faced with an unwinnable situation i would simply win rather than lose” thing.

his dream is particularly interesting because you could make an argument that it’s not entirely because of kuina, but kuina was the catalyst. like, he’s not trying to become the world’s greatest swordsman because she died because he was already aiming for that when they were competing—instead, her death solidifies the dream. the baratie promise works the same way imo—he has the dream, but now the dream has fuel.

there’s also really interesting character nuance in the difference between blind loyalty and the way zoro turns loyalty into a stepping stone for strength. on the flip side, his fierce loyalty also translates into a total lack of self-preservation (which mirror’s luffy’s relentless pursuit of freedom at all costs but HEY this is a zoro post) which is one of my favorite things about his character. there’s a whole essay in me on zoro’s specific kind of stubborn loyalty too tbh, but this post has sat in my drafts long enough lol!

thank u for your thoughts d(*ﾟーﾟ*)

#answers

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milo-hypno · 5 months

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hi! this is anon from the other post thanking you for your work [sorry to clog up your asks like this, i just realized i really wanted to say something and forgot to add it so feel free to not post a response to this or anything, the fact that you’re even reading this is enough.]

your portrayal of love is mind-boggling in a /pos way and i very much wanted to mention it!! i’ve recently come to terms with something i’ve known for a long time now [being aro] and that somewhat deals with the territory that you’re aren’t going to experience romance, or certainly not the way others do, but somehow your works really do resonate with me because of the theme in series like home, home again and the birds in flight, the birds still singing of ones’ love and passion for another transcending romance entirely into becoming something of its own.

within eventually the birds must sing it makes sense [with the soul ties factor] but something about works where the author can depict relationships in which the characters love each other so wholly and completely that it’s more than just romantic or sexual is just so so good. maybe i’m biased because i regularly see relationships being portrayed as only having meaning if they’re “just romantic” or “just platonic” while i always wish for something more, but you’ve written it perfectly, truly.

it’s in moments like before the characters even realize they’re in love romantically that their internal monologue reveals their devotion to the other(s) in increments, or even if/when they realize their feelings they are content enough standing by the sidelines not confessing because their love for the other is more than what the normal implication of what romance entails, or simply how regardless of the journey they still love each and every detail about the other(s) and express it as such.

sorry, i am just going very insane about this still so i don’t know if any of this makes complete sense. all i know is that whether intentional or not, your expression of love within these characters detailing more than just the norm of physical actions and the works is very comforting to me, so thank you very much! again, i do apologize for the second ask but i wanted to mention something about this at the very least, have a nice night!

Hi!! Please, don't worry - I'm always happy to receive asks!!!

Thank you so much. I can't say you're the first person to say this, actually - I have... a shocking amount of Aro people, actually, who come to me saying that my portrayal of romantic clicks with them in some way or another, which would make me question something if I weren't pretty darn solid in my romantic inclinations, LOL

But saying that? This is incredibly lovely to hear. I try to make my romance feel right, to me, which is- not just puppy love. It's someone becoming so precious to you, that it would rip you apart to lose them. So often I feel like things I read have a very underdeveloped line to falling in love? To the point where, though I classify my fics as slow-burn, it's more that I need them to burn that slowly to show everything I need to, to make it feel real to me.

All this to say - I'm very glad to hear that my slow fall speaks so well to you!!! Thank you very much for the lovely messages, Anon - you're welcome in my inbox any time <3 you've brought me a lot of warmth and joy with your messages!

#milo's rambles #asks #hopefully this isn't a hot mess of an answer LOL #i am not in my best shape this week

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kenergized · 9 months

Text

i like that post but i have some nitpicks regarding the Wilson characterization. u get a few hints. his brother is… basically a dropped plotline but u can see how that reinforced his people pleasing nature. likewise there’s amber, and tho the show was horribly paced atp, this was a big relationship and probably the healthiest he ever had, because amber wanted him to address his fawning.

i feel like him being friendless is pretty simply explained by him being a working adult (its hard making friends!) as well as being an infamous serial cheater. surefire way to lose any mutual friends from his past marriages. just the very act of having like three past marriages is a bit of dark stain. finally there’s house himself, who is largely despised by the hospital and wilson’s affiliation is well known. i’m not necessarily saying house has intentionally isolated wilson, but basically no one wants to mess with that and risk houses attention turned to him. think about how house reacts to any change in wilson’s life and relationships. he’s cloying and possessive and perhaps could kill someone he views as a competitor for the wilson’s bff title.

and to bridge these two points, it is pretty explicitly explained that wilson cheats bc he’s such a people pleaser that he never actually gets satisfaction out his romantic relationships. he doesn’t assert himself for the little things and then ends up imploding for the bigger things. and then he resents his partner. house lays this all out at one point lol.

as for why he likes house, again, house has isolated him from forming other serious relationships. yeah yeah if u poke at house he will eventually mutter that he does want wilson happy in the end. but BOY don’t u have to do a lot to get him to stop. house has genuine positive characteristics too. he offers fresh perspective and challenges wilson’s beliefs in a way that is intellectually stimulating, even if he’s being a real bitch about it. he’s been there for wilson ALWAYS. wilson crashes with him after his marriage in the early seasons falls apart and it is implied house has done the same previously. remember they met by house bailing him out of jail. finally he’s just fun. it’s exciting being in on houses schemes and being his confidant. you feel special, above the rules, if only for a little bit. wilson is an oncologist. he isn’t facing the zebras house gets and he certainly isn’t miraculously curing most of them. it’s stressful. house can be an outlet.

that all being said there is a lot of mystery regarding wilson, but it’s really just what got the hall rolling to begin with. it may have been nothing in particular, just his general personality and a bunch of bad experiences. now that i wrote all this out this is way more than nitpicking

#text #housewatch

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kay-oc-rambles · 10 months

Text

Thinking of a comic where Tataré monologues about what it’s like after Clovis & Sammen bring her back to life.

I’m not Tataré Boïne.

At least, not the one they knew.

I have her face, her memories. I still love Sammen and Clovis… but I’m not really her.

I can’t blame them for trying. Sammen is literally a necromancer, his specialty is bringing things back from the dead (even if those things are soulless shells who mindlessly follow his orders), and Clovis has walked amongst my dreams so many times it wasn’t difficult to find my soul in the aether. With all they’ve been through, of course they couldn’t bear to lose the one person in their lives that made life worth living.

But I’m not her.

They tell me she hated coffee and always had something in her bag that would help the situation at hand. She liked walking around in the rain and found comfort in the sound of rolling thunder. That despite her inability to express emotions properly, she was the kindest person they had ever known, prioritizing helping complete strangers over her own health. Even if it killed her.

But I find that the little things are different now. I prefer to bask in the sun (the cold wet rain reminds me too much of the day she died). I cut my hair short (I don’t know how she didn’t tire of the maintenance such long hair required). I fumble through the contents of my bag, unfamiliar with the contents. I find I like the taste of coffee (and I’m always tired, living is so exhausting).

Sammen, despite his confident air, worries over me. They both do, but Sammen’s concerns are based in his knowledge of the undead. He acts like it’s a joke when he tells me to let him know if I find myself decomposing or craving human flesh, but I can see in his eyes that it’s a genuine concern.

When I sleep at night, I do not dream. Clovis reassures me that not everybody dreams all the time (but I know she dreamed quite often). He shares fragments of her dreams with me. He reads her favorite books to me, takes me to her favorite places in town. It all feels familiar and not as the same time.

The first time I tried to heal someone, I only made it worse. The wound opened up further and turned dark as they cried out in pain. I felt nothing. No urge to help, no determination to fix my mistake. They were lucky another healer was nearby. I was lucky they took over.

This body I inhabit once belonged to Tataré Boïne, a stoic healer beloved by many. I am not her. I do not know who I am.

———

I most likely won’t use that exact script for it (assuming I even get around to drawing it).

I’m thinking maybe when they bring her back, they actually grabbed the soul of a Tataré from an alternate universe (not unlikely, since the Sammen mentioned here isn’t originally from this timeline). Nobody realizes it at first because death is a traumatic experience, as well as being brought back to life, and the more time there is between the two, the likely they are to come back “right”. It took a bit of planning for Sammen and Clovis to bring her back, so it’s not surprising that she’s missing a lot of memories and that her healing magic has been corrupted (they did their best to preserve her body, but the soul is where the magic comes from; the body simply houses it).

I think maybe the soul they pulled back was from a universe were Tataré was a necromancer (and in that universe, Sammen was a viveromancer, I’m not sure what Clovis would’ve been. Need to figure out what the opposite of a Dream Eater is lol) and that’s why she can’t heal.

I also really need to figure out my own worldbuilding for this. Lacigam was originally an RP with my friends back in high school but during college we kinda grew apart (even had a falling out with a couple of them as a result of having grown apart). I know a couple of those friends still use their Lacigam OCs. I’m somewhat considering merging SamTarClo with Astrid & Caspian’s world, but I’ll probably have to change Sammen’s design a bit (as well as Clovis’s alternate outfit) because Terris is supposed to be a classic medieval fantasy world, while Lacigam is a little more complicated (definitely inspired by medieval fantasy, but Sammen’s outfits are decidely modern, and Clovis’s are like. maybe late 1800s but kinda more 1900s).

Eve is also a thing. I still haven’t figured out if/how I want to fit her in with SamTarClo, especially since her character was so thoroughly intertwined with my friend’s character Adam.

#tatare #tataré #lacigam

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cyberfreak-king · 1 year

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Let’s start off this shitshow eh?

First and foremost:

The title of my cyberpunk story is 𝘏𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘈𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘈𝘭𝘭 (yes, like the Daft Punk album). These are two of the main characters, both in their early 20s.

The left girl goes by the name of Shock (real name is not revealed), which is immortalized in the lightning bolt tag on her choker. She’s 23 years old, outgoing, bright, colorful and showy, and often attends rave parties whenever they’re nearby. She has a job as a cab driver, but doesn’t have a license.

The right girl - in drab, dull and boring colors - is our main protagonist Molly Herschfeld, 21 years old. She’s the opposite of Shock, she wears dull, drab colors. She works at a small grocery store that’s slowly going out of business. She tries to be interested in what Shock likes, and often tags along at the parties Shock goes to, but she finds it all very overwhelming.

The plot of 𝘏𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘈𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘈𝘭𝘭 takes place in an unspecified town in the US, and concerns Molly’s life start to fall apart as the city starts to unravel at the seams - political scandals, riots, and murders start to happen daily over the course of simply weeks. Shock eventually loses her job after widespread paranoia causes people to start traveling on their own, worsening Molly’s life situation even further.

After shooting someone on accident, Molly is wanted as a murderer and runs away so as not to be arrested. She finds a group of people down in the sewers she hides in, who force her to join them and participate in the chaos that they’ve been staging against her will - including forcing her to get new prosthetics to fight with. She does eventually come back to her old block after a while under a new last name and different appearance, and reconnects with Shock (I plan to use this to give her a more prevalent role in the story). As the story continues, she is injured more and more, and has to get more and more prosthetics and enhancements to stay alive. By the end, Molly is forced to confront whether she even has any humanity left in her or if she is simply just machine.

Edit 2/8/23 this is only a very rough outline of the story and it’s subject to change a whole bunch. I had to come up with the plot while I was writing this post lol. Feel free to comment any suggestions, I always try to make my stories stand out if you know what I mean but I’m having a bit of trouble with this one.

it’s based off of this one tumblr post I remember about a game where every time you die your body gets replaced with more and more robotic parts, eventually culminating in the same dilemma of “am I still human”

#humanafterall #cyberpunk #ocs #oc #oc stuff #oc lore #cyberpunk oc #cyberfreak-king #just remembered molly is also a nickname for mdma #which is a club drug and commonly associated with raves #this was in no way intentional I swear it

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holdontorogers · 3 years

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dumbification with steve? innocence kinda corruption kink too if u wanna

࿐ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐬.𝐫.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠; nomad!Steve x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲; You were on Steve’s side during the Civil War events, now you had to go undercover, just like him. After a few months apart, Steve has missed you more than both of you could’ve imagined. But he will surely make sure you know that.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 1,500

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; 18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI, porn with little no plot, swearing, dumbification, mocking (dumb girl, cockdrunk), pet-names (pretty girl, honey, sweetheart), corruption kink, dom!Steve, face-fucking, blowjob, fingering, unprotected sex, degradation, size kink (Steve is huge, reader doesn’t think it will fit), slight breeding kink (Steve cums inside reader).

𝐚/𝐧; GIF NOT MINE CREDITS HERE. REQUESTS ARE OPEN! Made this with Nomad!Steve bc 🤤 why not? Okay, I didn’t expect to go so far out with this one but oh God. I guess writing smut is my new passion lol.

It has been months since he even heard from you. After a while running together, you ended up going separate ways. He wanted you. It was that simple. And at this point, after all of the events that led him to go undercover and a fugitive, he couldn’t care less. All he knew is that he wanted to cross lines with you, tonight.

You barely recognized him when he arrived at your new hidden place. The calm blue ocean that once shaped his eyes seemed dark and dangerous now. Those angelic eyes and clean face were replaced by wild, almost animalistic eyes. And the beard. Oh, Lord, the beard. You whimpered at the feeling of it rubbing your skin when he hugged you. You also didn’t think Steve could get bigger — but there he was. Broader shoulder, stealth suit fitting his muscles perfectly, and an evil smirk on his face.

“How you’ve been sweetheart?” the pet-name sending shrives down your spine. You simply stare at him, taking in all his features. “Did you lose your words, honey?” your eyes widened at his words, the blue in his eyes almost disappearing as they grew darker. Steve licked his lips staring at you, you could feel the pooling in your panties just by staring at him. Unable to move or do anything thing. You wanted him, it was that simple.

The only problem is that this Steve seemed dangerous, experienced, rough; and you barely knew how to do a proper blowjob at best, lacking much of the experienced he seemed to master by now. But you knew that for him you would do it. Whatever he asked, you were his. Ready for whatever he was willing to give up. You bit your lower lips, lost in your thoughts.

Steve held a groan, the sight of you pressing your thighs together as you looked at him playing hoops in his mind. He left a heavy breath, his dagger eyes focused on all your movements. He could smell your arousal from his place. Carefully, he went forward, cupping a side of your face with his hand.

“What’s going on in that pretty mind of yours?” his voice was heavy just like his stare. “I’m…” Fuck, did you forgot how to speak? Was he that intoxicating? “You…” he mocked “I need to know what you want so I can give it to you, my dumb girl” his fingers caressed your cheek, as you felt your blood rushing through your body. You leaned to his touching, biting your lips hard so a moan wouldn’t escape. What was he doing to you?

“My dumb baby” he taunted “can’t barely contain the sweet sounds when I touch you” you closed your eyes and swallowed, addicted to the sound of his voice and his fingertips. “Gotta tell me what you want, put that pretty mouth of yours to use” your eyes widened at his words.

“I want you to ruin me” this time the words didn’t fail to leave your mouth. Steve had a satisfied smile on his face, dragging his thumb to your parted lips. You took them in, sucking and swirling your tongue around it, a low, strangled groan escaping his mouth at the sight.

“On your knees, pretty girl” he commanded, and you quickly sunk down to your knees. “Wanna see that pretty mouth of yours having a reason for being so out of words” he stated while undoing his belt and lowering his pants. The bulge clear in his boxers watering your mouths and making you wonder if it would fit later.

“Steve” you mumbled, after his cock sprang free from the restraining underwea. “it won’t fit” you blinked a couple of times. Steve chuckled at your words “Oh, my dumb gir, already so needy for my cock” he pouted, mocking your expression “it will fit, don’t worry. Just wait for it” he promised. You gulped and turned your eyes back to his shaft. “Now,” his authoritative tone made you look at him “Tongue out, sweetheart” another barked command, another order you followed promptly. “Eyes on me” he tilted your chin so you could actually look into his eyes, you nodded complying to all his demands.

You could taste the salty pre cum as you licked and sucked on his reddened tip. Sweet moans leaving your lips at the feeling, Steve’s hand threw back in pleasure. He gripped your hair and started thrusting into your mouth, leaving no spacing for breathing. You tugged on his thighs for support, gagging as his cock reached the back of your throat, tears falling down your eyes. The sounds and your current state only made Steve grew harder in your mouth, seeking his own release, using your mouth at his mercy.

“Doing so good for me, my dumb girl” he purred “gonna cum all over your face, fuck” he promised, almost losing his mind at the feeling “then have you bent over and dripping with my seed after I fuck you stupid” he whispered, his words fading as his release approached, curses leaving his mouth. The sounds he was making became your new favorite, he was in control but his flushed look, parted lips, groans and moans were all because of you. You hollowed your cheeks, and continue to let him use you. Suddenly he removed himself slightly as you felt hot, salty cum filling your mouth. You swallowed all he had for you, licking your lips afterwards.

Looking at him with flushed, innocent eyes, Steve pulled you up by your hair, kissing you. Teeth, tongue and his taste in your mouth mixing together in a passionate and rough kiss. Steve finally started undressing you, his lips never leaving your body. He sucked on your lips and moved to your neck, he could bruise the skin that his mouth captured. Steve wanted to let everyone know who you belonged to. As he sucked on one of your boobs, his large hands cupped the other, squeezing and pulling your nipples, making you whine for more. His fingers found your panties ripping the fabric and throwing away.

Steve removed his remaining clothes, lifting you up and placing you in the couch arm. His fingers found your pussy as he groaned at how wet you were “fuck, baby, you’re so fucking wet for me” his fingers spread your arousal through your cunt, tracing every inch, the fraction at your clit making you nearly jump. Steve pushes two fingers into you at once, stretching you open, delighting himself at how well you took them. “Feel so good squeezing my fingers, can’t wait til it’s my cock” he hissed. His thumb starting circling your clit, the pressure building inside you. You felt dizzy, numb to the feeling, gripping his shoulders as you came, hard. The coil in your stomach turning into white, hot, unimaginable, pleasure. Steve licked his fingers clean and moaned at the taste.

With an evil smile, he turned you easily, bending you over, exposing your ass and pussy for him. With a few strokes on his cock, his was ready to ruin all men for you. You whine at his tip teasing your entrance. Steve wasn’t gentle, burring all of him at once, barely giving you time to adjust to his size, impossibly stretching you to fit all of him. He started at a slow, agonizing pace, teasing you. It worked, you whined, grabbed at any resemblance of balance you could find. Almost sobbing for him to stop the torturous pace.

“Steve, I” you whined his name and his cock twitched inside you. “So cockdrunk already?” he mocked “Can’t even form words” he slowed even more, yet you thought it was impossible. “Fa-aster” you tried “Plea—” no warning, his hips started thrusting harder and faster. The pace settled made you feel the coil to form again, his dick sinking into you at every thrust. “My dumb girl” he said with raspy voice “So fucked out by me, won’t even be able to think after I’m done with you”. You could only moan his name, a mess of incoherent whines, sobs and curses leaving your lips.

Steve’s pace lost his rhythm, his release approaching. He started rubbing circles around your clit, pushing you towards the edge with him. It was all too much, the feeling of your walls contracting around him, his thumb in a perfect pace, the fact that it was Steve. You reached your orgasm soon enough, giving Steve the green light to pursue his own release. It was like shockwaves all over his body, his cock buried deep inside you, his hot cum warming you. Steve collapsed on your back, his cock beginning to soften, still inside you.

After a few heavy breaths, Steve removed himself, watching his cum dripping from your cunt, down to your thighs. He grabbed you in his arms and turned you to face him, rubbing his hand through your face. “Guess we need to clean you up” he offered, a sweet, tired smile on your lips. After that night Steve knew that no matter what happened, he wouldn’t leave you ever again. He would make sure to take care of you, protect you. No matter what.

#steve rogers smut #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers oneshots #steve rogers headcanons #steve rogers blurb #steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers x female!reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans headcanons #chris evans x reader #chris evans x reader smut

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jungkxook · 3 years

Text

—backseat serenade. (m)

⟶ pairing: taehyung x reader

⟶ genre: punk!taehyung / band au / brother’s best friend au + smut

⟶ words: 10,790

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: falling in love and having weekly sex with kim taehyung is wrong for a number of reasons — and, no, that’s not including the whole other issue that he’s also your brother’s best friend

⟶ warnings: multiple sex scenes, slight exhibitionism if u look hard enough, wall sex, car sex, unprotected sex, all the sex (seriously), fingering, pussy slapping (also if u look hard enough), lots of teasing, doggy style, riding, creampie

⟶ disclaimer: this story is another repost of an old one (although it’s basically been entirely rewritten lol)!

⟶ this is part of the melodrama tour series!

“We have to hurry. I don’t have a lot of time.”

Taehyung says this with much difficulty, of course, especially when considering you’re currently pressed up against him, his fingers digging crescent-moons into your hips ━ but he knows you’re teasing him now.

You can’t help it, though; he just makes it so easy for you.

He can be so stubborn and impatient at times that poking fun at him brings you quite a bit of joy. Maybe not so much to him, as he often whines and complains that you like to torture him, but, really, how could you not? When you think about what he’s usually like in bed, away from prying eyes, it’s entirely different. So to see that dominance in him fade into nothing short of helpless is simply satisfying ━ even if you know you’ll pay for it at a later time. It doesn’t always happen either but when it does, you bask in it for as long as possible.

Which is why you seem to take the liberty of “torturing” him so sweetly now, just before the boys are about to play a gig at a bar late one night. Taehyung had found you the moment he and the boys had finished soundchecking for the evening, then had you pinned up against the brick wall of the dingy washroom, his hips digging harshly into yours, and his hand now gripping your thigh around his waist. It might have been you who instigated it, hooded eyes and fluttering lashes and shit-eating grins meeting him in secret from across the room as he stood on stage before you with his bass guitar in hand, but Taehyung was the one to put it into action just like he always does, pulling you in there even despite the fact that they were scheduled to play in twenty minutes.

But who could blame you? Taehyung is always so charming, and tonight he was looking extra irresistible. Maybe it was the silky blouse, the first few buttons left open so that the floral tattoo on his chest pokes through, leaving very little to the imagination, or maybe it was the way he had let his hair grow out a little longer than usual, soft dark curls pushed back by a single bandana.

“You’ll be late,” You warn him in between heated kisses as he pecks his way down to the underside of your jaw where he tongues a warm pattern there.

“Just a quickie,” Taehyung promises gruffly. His hips rut against yours again and you feel his straining erection against your inner thigh. Poor thing. “Been dying all day to feel you on my dick.”

You only hum in response, a small amused smirk plastered on your face. He’s sucking a hickey onto your neck when he speaks next.

“Had all these thoughts but I was all alone. It was terrible.”

“What kind of thoughts?” You pry, quirking a brow. Your fingers toy at the top of his belt buckle, pulling him towards you. “Let me guess. Were you thinking about what it feels like to have my mouth on you? All warm and wet.”

He doesn’t move a muscle when he feels your hand trail lower past his belt only to grab at his crotch through the rough material of his jeans. You press your palm against him and he hisses.

“Sucking you off nice and slow, just how you like it?” You probe, teeth tugging at his lower lip when he catches your mouth on his once more. Your voice is low and sultry and invokes something in him that has him tensing. “Or maybe the way it felt when you had me bent over your kitchen counter the other day. You know, you always make me feel so good, Tae━”

He growls against your mouth but the harsh sound dissolves into a strangled whine. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, love.”

“And I always love when you pull at my hair too━” But you continue on as if he hadn’t even spoken, the thrill of the moment coursing through your veins like crackling electricity. “And when you grip my thighs so tightly when your head’s between my legs━”

“Y/N,” he says your name in a strained warning, bordering on a desperate beg if you listen close enough. He gets distracted when you suck delicately on a spot on his jawline and has to take a few deep breaths to calm his nerves. “Please. I’ll do anything. Just let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours.”

“My mouth?” You ask, tantalizingly slowly. “Or me?”

“I’m a simple man, I just wanna cum,” he hums, earning a delighted snort from you. “I’ll take whatever you give me, Y/N, please.”

“Hmm…” You trail off. You press your palm a little harder against him, rubbing your hand across his length. “Think I want you inside me, Tae. Wanna be wrecked by you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Now, this seems to excite him to no end. He fumbles with his belt at once. A devious cackle meets his ears and he knows you’re purposely toying with him. The next few moments unfold in a blur as his eager hands join with your own nimble ones, having his belt undone in a matter of seconds and your skirt hitched up nearly to your waist. With one hand gripping his straining and leaking cock as he pulls himself free from his pants, the other hitches one of your thighs to his waist. He pushes into you at once, the familiar feeling of your wet walls coaxing him in further and further as he sinks against your chest entirely, a beautiful luscious moan falling from his lips and a hiss of glee from yours. And, then, all at once, it’s as if all the pressure that has been building up inside of him tumbles to the forefront to be released.

“Jesus, fuck,” he grunts. He buries his head against your chest, one hand feverishly grasping at your breasts from under your shirt, fortunate you chose to forgo a bra for the night.

“Ooh, Tae━” Your own arms wrap around his neck, holding him tightly to you, but you don’t think he’ll bother going very far when his own weight slumps against you entirely, pressing you against the wall roughly. And even though he’s quick to fuck himself into you, his hips hardly stray far from yours too, causing you to bob violently up and down the wall behind you, the rough brick structure scratching at your flesh paling in comparison to the cool metallic rings on his fingers holding you up and the burn between your legs as his cock stretches you open.

“Nice to know that’s all I am to you━” Your head falls back against the wall as he continues. “Something you can use to get off. Not that I mind.”

“Nah, that’s not all you are to me,” Taehyung sharply inhales, and then shudders. In the heat of the moment, you miss the sentiment in his voice. He lifts his head to yours finally, smothering your lips with his. “But your pretty little cunt sure is nice.”

A maniacal cackle bubbles at your throat as you nip at his lower lip. Before you can respond, outside the washroom Jimin’s voice can be heard calling out aimlessly for Taehyung as the boy most likely wanders by, oblivious to what’s unfolding only a few feet away from him. “Has anyone seen Tae? Taehyung! Get your ass back here or we’re gonna be late━”

Taehyung groans out of frustration and buries his face in the crook of your neck, grumbling angrily, “Fuckin’ hell.”

But despite the Jimin’s close proximity and despite Taehyung’s bitter resentment for it, his hips still continue to rut into yours. You do manage to pull apart from his mouth and giggle when he chases after your lips desperately. “Think that’s your cue, baby.”

“There’s no way you’d be that evil,” he protests like a whining child.

“But Jimin sounds pissed.”

Taehyung finds it hard to focus when your fingers tug at the collar of his shirt, absentmindedly (or so he thinks) running your hands under his shirt and over his chest. He cradles you close to him, following your every move. That, and the way your walls clench around him drives him wild. “Heaven forbid we let down Jimin.”

“Nnng━” You choke back a whimper. “He’ll be mad.”

“As if he wouldn’t already lose his shit if he found me here in such a compromising position with you being that you’re his sister.”

Compromising is certainly one word for it. So, maybe Taehyung had a point, but that never stopped him or you before. In fact, it only seemed to add to your lustful endeavours, as if you both enjoyed seeing how far you could push the boundaries before getting caught ━ or not.

It hadn’t always been like this. For a period of your life, you had somehow forced yourself to believe you had despised Taehyung as much as you claim, as much as you lie. You wondered just how Jimin could ever be friends with, or be as inseparable with, Taehyung as he was. Whereas Jimin is timid and shy, gentle and caring, like a soft breath of cool air on a hot summer’s day that sways the knee-high grass in meadows behind your house, Taehyung is energetic and effervescent, reckless and wild, akin to that of a sudden flash of lightning that breaks apart the calm sky, a clap of thunder that shakes even the very core of sleeping Gaia. Though, somehow, their two vastly different personalities come clashing together in a harmonious perfection and create something that is entirely too rambunctious for you to handle, even as a young child.

But now? Now you’re positive neither you nor Taehyung would stand a chance against Jimin’s wrath if he found out his best friend enjoyed weekly sex of all sorts with you, sometimes even when he’s asleep in the next room over in your shared apartment with him and Taehyung had somehow managed to sneak in during the night.

“You know he’s already suspicious,” You moan as his cock angles upward into you in such a way that makes your body tremble. You jut your hips forward, meeting his halfway. “Now━ Fuck, Tae━ you wanna… You wanna risk getting kicked from the band for not showing up to your set?”

“There’s still ten minutes,” he hisses hotly. “Ten minutes is more than enough time.”

“Then you’ll really be late.”

“It adds to the rockstar brand, doesn’t it?” he asks hastily. “Fuck, baby. You’re so fucking wet and you’re teasing me?”

He’s met with a roll of your eyes, and then a drunken snicker as you retort, “Maybe being fashionably late will be more acceptable when you’re a big celebrity.”

“Did you find him?” Another voice suddenly sounds from outside, this time resembling Hoseok’s. Taehyung wonders how they haven’t heard either of you yet, the lewd wet noises of his cock burrowing into your cunt seeming to grow louder each time. Surely, you would have been caught by now had it not been for the thudding bass of the music playing at the bar.

“No,” Jimin grumbles, closer this time.

A dangerously loud whimper tumbles from your lips and Taehyung hurries to clamp his hand over your mouth. You’re fortunate when he does, clinging to his hand as he pumps himself into you. At the very least, no matter how cocky Taehyung got with you or how many times he teased the thought of getting caught, he would never actually risk facing Jimin’s mighty wrath. Still, he finds a way to have fun with it.

“Uh oh.” Taehyung meets your darkened stare, lids heavy, as his other hand leaves your thigh to stick between your legs, fingers rubbing circles against your clit. You know he does it on purpose, judging by the broadening smirk on his face when the added stimulation makes your hips jerk instinctively beneath him. He’s surprised when you hardly let out a noise, safe for a sudden gasp for air. “Not even one tiny moan? Come on, baby.”

“Fuck it. Wherever he is, he better know we’re on in ten!” Jimin’s voice carries back to the two of you. Then, a little more faintly as he wanders off, you can hear him grumble, “I swear to God, this asshole━”

“Wait, wait━” You rasp suddenly, twisting and turning beneath Taehyung and the boy stops at once. You try not to let your heart swoon at the way his hands are all soft and gentle as they touch you now, sliding his palm off your mouth if only for it to fall to your hips where he rubs at comfortingly.

He tries to ignore the way his cock twitches, shoved so deep within your walls. “What’s wrong?”

You slither from his grasp, unraveling your leg from his waist and delicately pushing him away, trying not to focus on the way your pussy throbs at the sudden missing warmth of his length. Taehyung is suddenly even more concerned, the poor boy gawking at you helplessly, his swollen cock completely forgotten as he fixes himself back into his jeans, his attention solely focused on you and your wellbeing now.

“What happened? Did I hurt you━”

“No,” You promise. “No, I just━” You look sheepish, and he wonders why, up until he sees you fidgeting with your skirt in an attempt to fix it and the mischievous twinkle flashing in your eyes. “I just figured maybe we shouldn’t risk it tonight. I mean, you heard Jiminie.” You pat Taehyung’s chest once, smoothing out the material of his now crumpled shirt. “So, I’ll see you out there.”

Taehyung blinks once. “What the fuck.”

It doesn’t seem to hit him at first; not until he spots your wicked grin as you lean past him to look at your reflection in the mirror, fixing your clothes and hair. You wipe at a smudge of lipstick in the corner of your mouth, and Taehyung gaps.

“Y/N, what the fuck?” he whines. Needy and desperate hands try to grab at you on your way to the door, but he ultimately lets you weave your way out of his reach. “What are you, the antichrist? Don’t be such a tease. I’ve got a problem that you helped start. It’s only fair if you help finish it.”

Admittedly, it is cruel. He looks both shameless and shameful, an exasperated and flustered expression to match the helpless state he’s in. Shirt askew on his shoulders, hair a wild mess, and his painfully obvious boner struggling against his jeans. You almost feel bad, until you realize you shouldn’t be. Because this is all it’s ever been between the two of you ━ sex, and more sex, no feelings attached, but lately something seems off… Either way, Taehyung will get over it, and he’ll still come crawling back for more which is why you have no qualms when you leave. Just, maybe, not in the way you would like.

The last thing he sees of you before you flee the washroom for him to fend for himself is a seductive smirk and a wink being thrown over your shoulder as you remark innocently, prettily, “You have hands.”

And then you’re gone, leaving him alone in the dingy washroom. He doesn’t come out right away, though it leaves the restless boys that make his band awaiting him to speculate some more.

“He’s gonna totally screw us over if he doesn’t show up in the next two minutes,” Jimin is saying hotly to the boys behind the stage when you rejoin them. The bar is already filling up with partygoers but mostly fans of the band, eagerly anticipating the set.

“Relax, Jimin,” Namjoon says carelessly. “He’s probably getting blown in the washroom or something. Can’t rush a man through these things.”

Jimin rolls his eyes as the others snicker. When the others have distracted themselves by discussing other business, you approach your brother casually, saying as inconspicuous as possible yet reassuringly, “Everything will be fine. I’m sure he’ll be here any second.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if he throws this all away for a girl,” Jimin shakes his head. “It’s a miracle he ━ or any of the guys, for that matter ━ hasn’t tried anything on you yet.”

You try to laugh, though the sound is more forced and strained than you would like. At least Jimin doesn’t seem to notice. “But he’s your friend. Don’t you trust him?”

“I do trust him,” Jimin replies. “He’s a good guy, he’s just too caught up in all this band life. We’ve both seen it with the guys, especially with Taehyung. They take advantage of this stuff in the early stages.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry,” You promise. “I’m not interested in your friends and never will be ━ especially not Taehyung.”

Fortunately, the dreaded conversation doesn’t last much longer. Taehyung does end up making it to his own set on time, and when he finds you out in the crowd, you’re smirking deviously up at him for a secret that never has to be told aloud to the world and certainly not to Jimin.

You don’t quite remember when you and Taehyung started hooking up behind your brother’s back or what exactly caused it.

If you think back long and hard enough, you’re positive it was the result of some sort of drunken one night stand that elapsed into sober days and conscious decision making, which then turned into weeks, then months, which leaves you to where you are now. Almost a year of sucking your brother’s best friend’s dick and you’ve somehow, miraculously, never been caught. But aside from occasionally sleeping with one another, there was nothing more to be exposed to Jimin in terms of romance. Because, as far as he was aware, you and Taehyung were still embroiled in your childhood rivalry with one another that was less violent now than when you were younger and more civil, aside from the offhanded jabs and retorts shot at one another. And, as far as Taehyung and you were aware, the charade and the hook-ups all resulted in a peculiar sort of friendship between the two of you that was certainly as far as either of you would take things. Supposedly.

But between sexual teasing and taunts, you sometimes wonder if the lines have begun to blur, and if you’ve gotten too comfortable with Taehyung asking to sleep in your bed. Which is why, maybe, you overcompensate by “torturing” him on the days that he really needs you, like the night before in the grimy washroom of the bar. He hadn’t joined the real world or the band until the very last second they were meant to go on stage, looking all the more discomposed and flushed in the face when he rushed out, though at least he had somehow managed to tame his raging boner.

Now you were certain the universe was toying with you, bittersweet payback coming to nip you in the ass.

You hadn’t been so bothered the night before, leaving with the boys when their set was done and returning to your home with Jimin, not a word being uttered between you and Taehyung, even up until the very next day where you find yourself now. Crammed in a local studio run by some friend Yoongi had known from college, you were quite used to watching the band brainstorm new lyrics and record songs in real time, all from the sofa shoved up against one wall of the small space. You had been there every step of the way ━ their first rehearsal as a formed band, the day they discovered the group’s name in almost a dreamlike epiphany, the release of their very first full-length album produced and recorded all by them and promoted all by them, their very first gig with a decent following and the jittery anxiety they had all been troubled by, and every gig following it in which their nerves subsided and their effervescent charm and credence began to finally show through. But they had never been as disconcerted as they had now ━ which, really, you don’t blame them.

“Bro, this is stressing me out.” This aggravated groan sounds from Jungkook, the band’s lead guitarist.

He’s currently splayed out on the ground of the sofa you’re seated on, head thrown back against the cushions. Every other boy in the studio bare a similar wearied look ━ even Jimin, as their usual spritely lead singer.

You suppose that’s just the inevitable stress bound to occur when a scout from the infamous Columbia Records had somehow found the band either in person at one of their gigs or online and taken an interest in them and were interested in signing them. After weeks of back and forth discussion, Jin had been fortunate enough to land a meeting with the label in New York City, looking promising enough to excite even the stoic Yoongi. And after a month of planning, their meeting was set to take place finally only a week from that day. The issue seemed to arise when the label claimed they wanted the band to bring a set of new songs to the table to discuss at the last possible moment, sending the boys into a chaotic frenzy as they had only just released their first album a few months back. You had come to help the boys, though they were lucky enough to have found a handful of pre-written songs from their repertoire that still, unfortunately, needed fine tuning, vocals, and melodies. After working meticulously all morning, they were only just now deciding to split for a much needed lunch break.

“Same here,” Jimin says glumly, rubbing at his tired eyes. “Can’t wait to get out of here. I feel like I’m going insane.”

As the boys begin to shift and move, Jin gets to his feet and clasps his hands onto Jimin’s shoulders, giving him a reassuring nudge. “Just think about it: international success and Grammys await.”

“If we don’t fall apart before then,” Namjoon stifles a yawn as he stretches out his arms. He tosses a glance at you and Taehyung. “You guys coming?”

“Yeah,” You say, though you hardly move from your seat. “I’ll be there.”

“I’ll catch up with you guys in a minute,” Taehyung nods. He’s sat across from you on the couch, journal propped on one knee as he scrawls away in it, a jarble of chord progressions and lyrics. “Just gonna finish cleaning up in here.”

It seems convincing enough to Namjoon and the rest of the boys, even Jimin who is already out the door, not in the least bit suspicious of you or Taehyung. Honestly, you’re sure not even Taehyung is suspicious of your unmoving presence beside him until the boys leave and suddenly the room falls silent.

“You’re stressed,” You point out in a gentle musing. Which is true. You don’t usually see Taehyung riddled with anxieties, typically keeping to himself and maintaining some sort of effortless and mysterious coolness around the others.

The boy quirks a brow as he lifts his gaze to look up at you, tossing the journal onto the ground. Whether or not he seems to catch the underlying suggestive and sultry tone in your voice, you’re not quite sure but could you really blame yourself? It was difficult having to watch Taehyung all morning in his element, gazing at him whenever he was in the recording booth, headphones dangling from his neck and bass guitar in his lap as his expert fingers thrummed away at the strings. He always looks most attractive to you when he’s so utterly consumed by his work and his art, whether it be on stage in front of hundreds of people or in a more intimate setting at recordings or practices.

“What happened to you not wanting to disappoint Jimin by getting caught or whatever it was?” he asks, waving his hand dismissively. “Staying back with me is definitely gonna catch his attention.”

“Maybe,” You shrug. You catch his hand as he brings it back down, raising it to your lips to kiss at the tips of his fingers slowly, one-by-one, never once breaking eye contact with him. “I was just thinking you could use some help. And an apology for yesterday.”

Despite the way Taehyung’s dark gaze scrutinizes you in a taunting manner, he still watches as you take his hand and place it between your thighs, over your core. At least today you chose to wear leggings, the smooth material allowing for very little obstacles standing in his way as you press his fingers against you. A wolfish smirk tugs at his lips. “You think your pussy’s gonna help me?”

“Yes, actually, I do,” You say, matter-of-fact. “And I don’t think it will; I know. If I remember correctly, you were begging to use me as a stress-reliever before your set yesterday.”

Taehyung clucks his tongue. “Sounds a lot to me like you just want my fingers in you. Not so nice now being the needy one, huh?”

“I want you to do a lot of things to me, Tae.”

“Careful, baby. You’re playing a dangerous game,” Taehyung says. Still, he entertains the idea. Pressing his thumb harder against you, he rubs leisurely at the sensitive part of your clit over your clothes and the sudden feeling makes you pur with glee. “Besides, why should I be so nice and help you after what you did to me?”

You roll your eyes. “You’re still on about that? You’re a grown man, you can pleasure yourself.”

“How mean.” He feigns a look of mock hurt. “It doesn’t feel as nice when it isn’t you.”

“Taehyung,” You scold his name in a warning, but it mostly comes out as a contented sigh. You know you’ve already won him over, though the impatient tug you give on his arm as you clutch at his wrist of the hand still between your legs is a wordless reminder. Your fingers flutter up to his face, pulling him down for a kiss which he gladly obliges to. “Think they’ll walk in?”

“Nah.” His voice is a throaty murmur. “We’ve got some time. The boys’ seem worried enough as is; think they’re already halfway to that pho place around the corner they wanted to try, and they’re probably not gonna wanna come back here for at least another hour. Plus, I think we’ve given the producers a raging headache with all our requests so they definitely won’t want to be back in here for a while.”

You snicker at the thought, humming into his mouth as you pull him down with you onto the sofa, bending your knee so as to let him slide into place between your legs more comfortably. He pulls his hand away from you only long enough to lick at his digits before slipping his hand past the waistband of your leggings this time. Nudging aside your underwear, he swipes his fingers at your clit, marveling at your stickiness.

Your breath hitches in your throat. “What do we say when they ask where we went?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he grunts into your mouth. “Fuck, tell them we were busy fucking for all I care.”

You swat at his chest playfully but lose your spirit when he presses his thumb against your clit, causing your hips to rut forward in a silent plea. Taehyung’s right, you think. Your excuse for the boys can be worried about later. Now, Taehyung slides a finger into you, then another, stretching you open experimentally, causing you to croon.

Face warm and head spinning, a sudden thought pops into your head that seems much more intimate than his fingers in you. “So━” You bite your lip to stop a moan. The question that forms on your tongue is timid despite the lewd things that threaten to run through your mind at his every touch, “S-So, what happens when you’re a big and famous rockstar, touring the world now?”

“I’ll take you with me.” Taehyung tongues a pattern down to the underside of your jaw, sending shivers down your spine. He curls his fingers upward, sinking further into you until he’s reached his knuckles, enjoying the way your hips twitch beneath him. “Fuck you in every city we go to, in every fancy, over-the-top hotel we stay in. New York, L.A., Paris, London, Rome…”

“Romantic,” You snort, although maybe it kind of is if you think about it long enough. He slides a third finger into you then, fucking his digits in and out of you at a gradual pace that has your core aching. You’re all warm and wet around him that it goes straight to his dick, the thought of him tearing you apart as he plunges his cock into you making him grow antsy. It does the same to you. “Nnngh, Taehyung━ We’ll see about that when you meet pretty girls thousands of miles away who can offer you so much more than me.”

“Hmm… Dunno about that,” he hums. “There’s only gonna be you.”

You wonder if he knows what he’s doing, the way his words make your heart stutter in your chest. But then you start to wonder why you’re even feeling such things for him. Pretty words promising you that you meant more to him than sex meant little to you in comparison when he never acted upon it ━ but could you blame him? Even you were apprehensive of ruining what you already had with him, his friendship with Jimin if you told him how you were feeling lately, and the integrity of the band.

Your legs tremble as your orgasm approaches. Taehyung busies himself by nipping and sucking at your neck and all you can do is puff and pant, the lewd wet noises of his fingers penetrating you filling your ears. “Taehyung━ God, I wanna feel your dick so badly.”

“Yeah?” he growls. “Gonna let me fuck you finally? You’re so wet right now, could slip right in. Fuck, look at what you do to yourself by being so mean to me.”

He twists his finger up into you in such a way that has you grinding against his knuckles. “Please, Tae━”

“Got you stretched so wide too,” Taehyung hums pensively. “Your pussy always takes me so well too, doesn’t it?”

“Hmm, Taehyung!”

“Look at you,” he hisses, quickening his pace. Your back arches until your chest is pressed flush against his, walls quivering around his fingers. You reach out desperately for his face, smoothing your lips over his but you fail to really make any sort of connection. Instead, your jaw unhinges in a breathless moan against his mouth as he rests his forehead against yours. “Wanna come around my fingers so badly, don’t you? So close too.”

“Fuck, fuck, I’m━” Your hands ball into fists around the collar of his shirt. Your eyes threaten to roll back as you get closer and closer, your aching pussy so close to feeling its much needed relief when━ “What the fuck, Taehyung?”

He pulls his hand from your core before you can cum, leaving you a sweating and panting mess. The sudden loss of contact leaves you dumbfounded, gawking at the boy who’s suddenly grinning in a similar ungodly manner to your selfish response to him the day before. Payback has never tasted so sweet before to him, and so bitter to you.

“You did that on purpose,” You whine, jutting your hips forward desperately to meet his hand again. Instead, he gives your leaking and sensitive pussy one slap, the pleasant jolt shooting up your spine making you moan. “You’re so mean. I thought you were over it.”

“Well, now I am.” He pulls his hand out from between your legs and licks at his fingers. “Have you had your fun?”

It takes you a moment to respond as you gather yourself. He finds your sulking a little hilarious, and maybe also feels a little bad. “For now.”

“That’s a good girl.” He leans down to kiss your mouth hungrily, enjoying when you suck eagerly at his lower lip. “Because I’ve had my fun.”

You open your mouth to say something more but are stopped shortly when, somewhere outside the recording room, you can hear the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching, followed by the sound of the doorknob turning and Jimin’s curious voice, “Tae?”

You and Taehyung have stumbled off of one another within seconds, listening to the way Taehyung curses under his breath as he flings himself off the couch and a few feet away as you sit upright on the sofa. You have to only pray and hope that you both don’t look too obvious, though you think it’s too late for that. Either way, you cross one thigh over the other, biting down harshly on your tongue as Jimin stumbles into the room. As his gaze sweeps fleetingly across the room, he hardly takes note of both you and Taehyung.

“There you two are,” he says. “Was wondering where you went off to. And━” His stare flutters over to Taehyung for a moment and you hold your breath, fearing he may know a little too much, when━ “There’s my wallet! I knew I forgot it here.”

He crosses the room swiftly and plucks his abandoned wallet from the desk, holding it up to show the two of you. You smile nervously and Taehyung takes it upon himself to answer, clearing his throat in the process. “We were just gonna catch up with you, actually. Y/N was just helping me finish up here.”

You’re fortunate that Jimin’s probable sudden panic of trying to find his wallet and the relief of realizing he hadn’t lost it to the ether is what distracts him. He seems hardly intrigued by your lack of presence or yours and Taehyung’s odd companionship without the other boys. Whatever the case, you both manage to make it out of the recording studio unscathed and Taehyung does a well enough job at deflecting from any further suspicions by talking as normally as he usually would with Jimin on your walk over to the restaurant the rest of the boys are at.

Well, as unscathed as you can be, the tragedy of your lost orgasm still haunting you even as you sit across from Taehyung at the table.

“Now you’ll really be late.”

You say this as a heedful warning, though you’re fortunate when you find that you’re both distracted this time.

You know you have Taehyung under your spell that morning when he catches you purposely wandering his apartment in nothing but a pair of your panties. It’s not as if it’s uncommon to see you naked in his kitchen, making breakfast. That morning, when you walk into the bedroom holding a cup of tea, Taehyung almost chokes at the sight of your bare chest. It’s early the day of the band’s flight to New York City for their meeting with Columbia Records, and though Taehyung has roughly an hour before he has to leave the apartment, you’re worried he might just miss the flight altogether when he pulls you onto his bed again after a night of fucking.

“Don’t care. Come here.” His large hands are on you in an instant, roaming your body as he kisses the underside of your jaw and pins you beneath him. You let him get carried away, let him leave a trail of sloppy kisses from your lips down to your collarbones and in between your breasts.

“What are you gonna tell the boys when they’re on a flight to New York and you’re still in your apartment?” You rasp, fingers threading in his hair.

“Was busy spending the last twenty-four hours making hot, passionate love to you.”

The wry grin on his face makes it come across as a joke and makes your heart skip a beat. Admittedly, that was partly the truth. He had invited you over the day before and you had spent the better part of it in his bed in every position imaginable. Have to make up for the three days we won’t see each other, he had said after your first round, head between your legs and mouth on your cunt.

You snicker now but the sound falls short when a moan replaces it. “Don’t think you can call it passionate love making when you gave up halfway and made me ride you like you always do.”

He gasps and bites down teasingly on your skin but not with enough pressure to hurt. “Was that a jab at my manhood?”

“Of course not.”

“Besides, I like it best when you’re in charge.”

You roll your eyes but pull him up to your face so that you can kiss him again. It’s an odd shift in atmosphere when you find him kissing you in a chaste manner, despite having marked you red all over and legs still shaking from how many times he’s made you come in the last twenty-four hours. But it wasn’t all sex for once. Falling asleep in his arms left you still dreaming even when you were long awake.

“Gonna miss you,” he whispers once he parts from you. He rubs soft circles against your hips, nuzzling his nose against your cheek.

“It’s only for three days,” You say.

“I know,” he sighs. “I just━ God, I’ve gotten so used to you being here. I’m just sick of sleeping alone all the time. Shit, I don’t think I’m making any sense anymore. All I know is you’re driving me crazy.”

“Taehyung…”

“Am I wrong to feel that way?” He lifts his head now to look at you, ardent sincerity glazing over his eyes as he gazes at you.

You’re too caught up in the moment, the lustful afterglow of sex and whatever else is starting to emerge however blurry it may be now, to not notice right away the sound of knocking on the front door. Instead, you reach out to push his hair out of his eyes. You think you know what he means; you just want to hear him say it aloud. Your question is a gentle probe. “What are you trying to say?”

“I━”

But Taehyung’s voice is cut short by the sound of Jin’s shouting from the front door. “Taehyung, you in here?”

Wide eyes meet with yours in the sudden alarming panic of Jin’s arrival. Taehyung grumbles mostly to himself, “God dammit, what’s he doing here?”

You can hear the band’s manager talking aloud, quite possibly to another one of the boys that he’s dragged with him, and you and Taehyung scramble to react. Taehyung only has enough time to clamber out of his bed and pull on a pair of discarded sweatpants from the floor as you pull on one of his sweaters and grab the bedsheet to cling to your chest if only so it can hide the rest of your bare legs.

“Are you alive?” Jin’s asking, closer this time.

“We had to come check on you━” You don’t register the second voice until it’s too late.

Because there, standing at the threshold of Taehyung’s door to his room, is not just Jin but your brother. Jimin’s familiar pop of bright blue hair and nonchalant smile are much too hard to forget. But, upon stumbling across Taehyung’s room, they each come to a stuttering halt. It doesn’t take long for the realization to dawn on them ━ and how could they not piece together the puzzles painting such a painfully obvious picture? The dishevelled bed, the clothes that litter his floor, your clothes that litter his floor, Taehyung’s shirtless and sloppy attire, your own half-hearted attempt at dressing yourself and the marks that riddle your body that you were banking on fading completely by the time you were reunited with Jimin after their return from their meeting.

“Uh…” Taehyung trails off awkwardly. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Oh shit,” Jin curses under his breath. Despite having no idea whatsoever about you or Taehyung (though maybe having a better inkling than the rest of the boys), he turns hastily towards Jimin. “Maybe now’s not a good time.”

But Jimin hardly budges. Instead, he looks enlivened, jaw setting harshly in place as his brows furrow into a scowl. “Jin knows I have a spare key to your place after that one time you locked yourself out and he wanted to make sure we all met up before getting to the airport. You weren’t answering our calls, thought you were dead. Guess now I know it’s because you were too busy fucking my sister.”

“Jimin,” You hiss sharply.

Taehyung shakes his head wildly. “It’s not like that.”

“Really?” Jimin retorts. “‘Cause it sure seems like it is.”

Taehyung grimaces. “Okay, yes, but not in the way you think. It’s not some meaningless fuck. I care about her.”

But that only seems to be the wrong answer. Would there ever be a right one? Taming Jimin’s stubborn anger and protectiveness over you was hard enough on any other day. Now that he knows you’ve slept with Taehyung, Taehyung felt as if he were a lost cause.

“How long has this been happening?” Jimin asks, tight-lipped.

You can’t bring yourself to answer, neither can Taehyung, and that seems to be enough to answer his worries. Maybe if you had acted faster, said it was only a one night stand, he wouldn’t have been able to read your mind so easily. Yet your silence was enough to make you guilty.

“Shit,” Jimin runs a hand through his hair. When he speaks next, he’s looking only at you. “Do you love him?”

“I━” You open your mouth, as if to explain yourself. This time, the answer came much easier. You know what you want to say, but voicing the truth out loud in front of your brother and Taehyung, who might not feel the same way, makes you clamp your mouth shut. Whatever your answer anyway should be for Taehyung only. Instead, you frown up at your brother. “I don’t get why you’re so upset anyway. Who cares if we’re in love? Who cares what we are? It’s not like you can control me. I can make these sorts of decisions myself, Jimin. This is ridiculous.”

“No. I get that,” Jimin says firmly. “But you’re my sister, and your wellbeing comes first to me. So, Tae━” Now, your brother turns to look at Taehyung. You’ve never seen him so furious before, disappointed even, and certainly not when it comes to Taehyung. “If you care about her so much, when were you gonna let her know?”

This seems to catch your attention, sending a curious gaze between Jimin and Taehyung. “Let me know what?”

“That he’s been screwing some other chick he met at the bar a while ago,” Jimin says. “Walked in on them once by accident and, after the fact, he said some similar bullshit about how it wasn’t meaningless or whatever.”

You blink.

The blow to your chest, and subsequently your heart, makes you teeter on your frail legs. Because if what Jimin was saying was true, then were all the sweet sentiments Taehyung whispered to you even yours to begin with? Did he care about you as much as you cared about him? But, the worst part of it all, is how utterly foolish you feel. Because when Taehyung doesn’t immediately answer, your question about whether or not Jimin was telling the truth was confirmed; and you had let yourself almost willingly fall for Taehyung despite all the warning signs. Despite the fact that you had both initiated your relationship on the basis that nothing would ever blossom from it.

“Is that true?” You ask Taehyung.

The boy hesitates. He meets your stare solemnly, flinching when he notes just how hurt you seem. “Partly.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You demand. But before he can respond, you scoff under your breath as you begin to gather your belongings. “Oh my god. I’m so stupid━”

Taehyung starts. “Wait, Y/N━”

“Just leave her alone━” Jimin interrupts.

“Hey. Hey!” Jin snaps abruptly, the firm tone in his voice catching the boys’ attention. “We gotta go. Now. Taehyung, get yourself decent; Jimin, in the living room. We leave for the airport in five minutes.”

You decide you no longer want to wait for an answer. Your own embarrassment is far too much to handle for the moment being, and you favour the idea of fleeing from Taehyung’s sorrowful gaze, Jimin’s heated one, and Jin’s scrutinizing scowl.

You’re long gone before Taehyung can even think to stop you.

The three days in which the boys find themselves in New York City for their meeting with Columbia Records is the longest three days of your life.

Taehyung never bothers to call or text you ━ and the looming swell of concern of awaiting to hear his voice or your brother’s or any answer of how the meeting has gone fades in comparison. Because every sweet nothing he ever said to you suddenly means nothing, and you don’t know where that leaves you.

Just when you think you can take the torture no longer, the band returns. Jimin comes bounding into your shared apartment the moment his flight lands and the taxi has brought him home, greeting you with the wonderful news that the band’s been signed, and a celebration is in store consisting of their closest friends and family members. While you initially bask in Jimin’s excitement, mirroring your own, it quickly fades as you fear you’ve lost Taehyung for good.

“You’ll come to the party, won’t you?” Jimin asks hopefully at some point. “The boys will want you there.”

You shift warily in your seat on the sofa across from your brother who stands in the midst of the room after having animatedly relaying the story of the past three days to you. You shrug now, and when Jimin shoots you a quizzical look, you decide to approach the topic cautiously, dancing over your words slowly. “I dunno, Jimin. If he’s gonna be there… I don’t know if I can face him right now.”

Jimin comes to an immediate halt. His face falls and he sinks onto the seat beside you. “Y/N… Look, I was wrong, and I’m sorry. While we were away, Taehyung and I talked and he’s gutted about what happened. But that’s all I can say. I think you should talk to each other. No, I want you to talk to each other. I know now that you’re meant for one another.”

“Are you only telling me this because you’re being your best friend’s wingman, or because you’re being my brother?” You ask, a weak lighthearted attempt at a joke.

“Both,” Jimin says warmly. “Because I care about you both, and I don’t want to have to live with the regret of being the reason two people perfect for each other aren’t together.”

And when your brother says it with such earnestness, you have no choice but to believe him.

So, despite feeling like a fool for potentially crossing paths with Taehyung again, you muster the nerve and motivation to go, and arrive at the party with Jimin later that night. The impromptu last minute party itself is held at Namjoon’s home, filled to the brim with mostly familiar faces and a few unrecognizable ones that must be acquaintances of the boys you’ve never met before. You make your rounds and congratulate the boys one-by-one, being enveloped into a tight hug with each one, safe for Taehyung whom you don’t see at first.

You’re fortunate when mutual friends of yours and Jimin’s arrive, spending the majority of the night with them as your brother wanders off to get wasted. At some point, as the night drawls on, you catch sight of Taehyung and the presence of him is enough to dampen your mood entirely. You decide you’re no longer in the mood for a party, and make haste for the door, stumbling out onto the lawn. You only make it so far, coming to stop at the foot of the curb to breathe in the cool night air around you, before you notice Taehyung hurrying out after you, calling your name.

Almost as soon as he’s able to catch his breath and you lock gazes with the boy, he asks aloud, “Where are you going?”

You hadn’t expected him to follow you, nor the terrible nearly tangible awkwardness that hangs heavy in the air. Still, the concern in his voice and the corners of his eyes softening at the sight of you makes you want nothing more than to forget all the heartache. “Home.”

“Let me drive you?” he asks delicately.

You hesitate before responding. You know the simple offer of a drive is more than that. It’s an invitation to talk to him, sort things out. And you, of course, can’t possibly deny him. As soon as you’ve followed him to his car and he starts driving, everything goes silent. It’s almost unbearable as you shift uncomfortably in your seat and gaze out the window, hoping the long car ride will pass by rather quickly. You thwart his attempts at starting any conversation by turning the radio up and letting the music ━ a mix from Taehyung’s phone filled with pop-punk and indie classics ━ fill the emptiness but it doesn’t work with distracting you. He takes a detour from the path to your apartment, driving instead to a nearby lookout point of a hiking trail, now abandoned and desolate this late at night.

It’s quiet even long after he shifts the car into park, leaving only the sound of the stereo to fill the void. Then, at long last━

“You didn’t call,” You say.

Taehyung swallows thickly. “I know.”

“That’s all I wanted. An explanation.”

“I know,” Taehyung shifts in his seat to look at you. “I’m sorry. I messed up.”

“I know I have no right to feel like you’re mine when the reason we started seeing each other was casual, but everything you’ve been saying to me lately━” You rasp, “that I’m the only one for you and that you were gonna miss me because you were tired of being alone ━ did all of it mean nothing?”

The boy’s stare hardens. “No. I was never lying when I was with you. Everything I said, I meant.”

“Then why didn’t you call?”

“Because I was scared I had lost you,” Taehyung grovels all at once, silencing you. “Because things were starting to finally change between us ━ where it wasn’t just sex all the fucking time, but something genuine ━ and I didn’t want to face the reality that it could all be gone, just like that.”

“Well, what did Jimin mean, about that other girl? Was he telling the truth?”

“Yes.”

“Did you fuck her?”

“Yes.”

“And did you fuck her while you were still saying there was only me in your life and pretending you meant it?”

“I was never pretending,” Taehyung protests exasperatedly. “We had a fling, but that was months ago, when you and I first started whatever the hell this is. But Jimin was wrong. I never told him she was the one, or whatever. I said I didn’t want it to be meaningless anymore. That I want something more. I thought I had found it with that girl; but it was really with you.”

“Taehyung…” You whisper his name now, a delicate utterance.

“You can’t tell me I’m the only one feeling this way about us,” Taehyung beckons desperately. “I know you’ve been feeling it too.”

You purse your lips; then, you let out a small exhalation of air. “Tae… I think I’ve been in love with you ever since we were little kids.”

Now, Taehyung’s stare softens. He reaches out to grab at your face, gingerly pulling you into him, thumb caressing your cheek.

“I want you,” he promises. “God, I want you so bad. Do you really think I’d risk getting kicked from the band for anyone else but you? Or let anyone else tease me so bad but you?”

You can’t help but snicker. You shake your head at him as he pulls you into a kiss. He grins against your mouth and, this time when he kisses you, it’s hot and needy, a whole three day’s worth of pent up emotions and desires pouring into your every touch. Your hands fumble to undo your seatbelt and then you’re climbing over onto his lap and he’s welcoming you with open arms, the skirt of your dress hitching up higher on your thighs. Your knee, or maybe it was your foot or elbow, accidentally hits the horn of the steering wheel and startles the two of you, earning a squeak from you, before you both erupt into laughter. Taehyung reaches down to push the seat back a few inches to give you more space in the cramped driver’s seat and then he pauses to look up at you with mesmerized eyes. He kisses you again and again, as your hands come up to grasp at the sides of his neck.

“Had enough of the bullshit, have you?” he asks humorously. “Gonna take matters into your own hands?”

“I’m tired of all this teasing and chasing,” You pout. You’ve already begun grinding your hips against his, enjoying the way his face pinches in pure delight. He burrows his face into your chest, breasts soft against his head. A soft moan bubbles at your lips as you plant your own hands onto his chest. “I think so are you. We’ve both got a taste of it, haven’t we? We need to make up for lost time.”

“Fair enough,” he rasps. “What do you want from me, baby?”

“You, all of you,” You murmur. “Want your dick in me.”

“Gonna let me finish this time?” he tuts.

Your amused giggle meets his ears and he wonders how you can be both cute and sexy at the same time. “Mmm, I wanna be filled with your cum.”

“Oh, fuck,” Taehyung grunts. “Okay, okay. Here━”

Somehow, he’s able to gesture to the backseat and you and him clamber your way there until you’re finally both situated once more with you straddling his lap. There’s a mutual understanding that there’s no point, nor time, for foreplay but it’s not as if either of you mind. Taehyung’s surely had enough and so have you because while teasing him may be fun for a while, it certainly can feel like torture trying to stay away from him in the meantime. You help him fumble with the belt of his jeans so that he can unbuckle them and watch as he grasps at himself, pulling his cock free. Immediately, you’re lifting your hips to pull the skirt of your dress up higher and his hands help aid you clumsily, palms gliding up the smooth expanse of your thighs.

Then, fumbling to push you on your knees before him, with one hand on the small of your back, he pulls you towards him and gazes down between the two of you as he hooks a thumb over the material of your panties to push it to the side and teases the tip of himself over your slick folds. Your hands flail outward, palms pressing against the windowpane as he somehow situates himself behind you in the cramped space on his knees. He grunts from behind you at the feeling and then slowly and carefully guides you down onto him. It takes a moment to adjust but as you sink fully down until he’s balls deep, his cock coaxed easily by your leaking wetness, the both of you come to a halt, sputtering for air.

“Wait, wait,” he gasps. “Oh, fuck━ Stay put for a sec.”

“Why?” You ask, jutting your hips backwards teasingly. “Gonna cum already?”

“You’re such a fucking tease,” he mutters. He thrusts up into you without warning as payback, causing you to gasp out loud and flail forward. “No, you brat. I just want to enjoy it a little bit longer.”

He’s right. It does feel nice to finally feel some sort of friction after three days of nothing. To him, you just feel so nice and warm and snug and, to you, he fills you up so perfectly. So you stay put for a little bit, adjusting to the feeling as you kiss each other slow and steadily. His dick twitches inside you, warm and wet and so fucking hard. He’s just so big, your head is spinning. It’s almost as if you feel him in the pit of your stomach, legs trembling at the feeling. He yanks impatiently at the top of your dress, pulling it down so that the material pools at your waist now, reveling in the way your bare breasts spring free. At once, his hands are reaching around your front to palm at your breasts, grasping at your hips and navel.

“Wanna wreck you so bad,” Taehyung growls roughly against the shell of your ear as he presses his chest against your back. “Gonna fill you up so good, make your pussy all mine. How does that sound?”

“Want it so bad,” You whine, one arm hooking behind you so that your fingers can scratch at his hair. “F-fuck, Taehyung━”

When he tugs lightly at your hips, you take that as his gesture for you to move and start grinding your hips against his.

“Been waiting so long,” he hisses. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Don’t know why you always gotta tease me.”

“Taehyung,” You choke out. “Oh, f-fuck━”

“That’s it, baby girl. Doing so well,” Taehyung grunts as your walls quiver around him. He starts grinding into you, rough snaps of his hips sending you jolting forward each time. “Gonna take my dick like a good girl?”

“Y-Yes━ God, want it so bad,” You cry out. “Give it to me harder, please, Taehyung━”

He gladly obliges, quickening his pace until he’s slamming his hips into yours in thrusts that tremble you to the core. Tears begin to prick at your eyes at the glorious sensation, your cunt throbbing with each thrust. You’re so wet, he almost slips from your walls each time he rolls his hips into yours.

“Fuck━ Want you to ride me,” he rasps at some point. “Show me how your pussy belongs to me. Can you do that for me?”

You nod blindly. You try not to whine at the sudden loss of contact when he pulls out of you, the tip of his cock glistening with both of your leaking cum mingling together, the sticky strands pulling apart midair as he fumbles. Soon, he has you straddling his lap, sinking onto his dick once more. You grip his shoulders this time, bouncing on him as he buries his face in your chest.

A sudden thought has him groaning aloud. “Your brother’s gonna fucking hate me.”

“I thought he said you talked things over,” You gasp. “That everything’s okay.”

“I don’t mean that,” Taehyung’s head rolls back, eyes squeezing shut. “He’s gonna murder me if he ever catches us like this.”

“Think he knows it happens by now,” You giggle. You moan when you drop your hips on him completely, swiveling around his dick.

“Still don’t think that means he wants to see us making love on the couch in your apartment. Not gonna be able to keep my hands off of you,” Taehyung points out. Then, adding hastily, “Fuck it. Can we not talk about your brother? It’s killing the mood.”

Another delightful chuckle bubbles from your lips though it’s quick to dissolve into a splintered cry as his dick angles upwards into you.

Your back arches until your chest is pressed against his. It’s almost embarrassing how fast the two of you become complete shambles, a sticky mess forming between your legs. It comes to that point where you don’t care about being careful and where you decide to adopt such a reckless pace, fucking yourself on him, your breasts bouncing wildly before him. Taehyung moans and eagerly latches his mouth on one of your breasts, sucking hard.

“Taehyung,” You whine. “I’m not gonna last.”

He hums against you, pulling you closer to his mouth and chest and wrapping you in his heat, as if to urge you on. Your mewls and whimpers ring in Taehyung’s ears as beautiful sounding as the music that plays in the background. You begin to give out, your tiredness mingling with the intensity of pleasure, and you collapse against Taehyung’s chest, huffing for air. He quickly replaces your efforts, grabbing your hips tightly and plummeting his upwards into yours so hard that you feel each thrust shake you to the core. You know you’ll have bruises in the morning but you don’t mind. You’re leaning entirely against Taehyung now, your arms wrapping around his neck, as cries of his name and choked whimpers continue to tear from your throat and mouth.

“F-Fuck!” You cry. “Taehyung, faster━ oh my god, please━”

Your pleas drown out when one long moan escapes you. You can feel the muscles in your core tighten and loosen in a constant battle that has your head swimming in a good way, your heart pounding in your chest. Taehyung grits his teeth, focusing on bringing you to your high, and, before you are able to even comprehend what’s happening, you’re toppling over the edge. You’re still on top of Taehyung, whimpering profusely and crying his name in a beautiful mantra as your high shakes you from head to toe.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby,” Taehyung hisses. “Cum for me. Cream all over my dick. You love it, don’t you? Love having me fill you up like this?”

“Yes, oh my god, Tae, yes━ faster, please━”

Taehyung obliges, sweat forming on his forehead. He feels you squeeze around him so tight that he fumbles for a second, sputtering for air. Then, he feels your cum pulsate out of you, leaking down his length. You’re instantly floating up high with the stars, relishing in your high and the way Taehyung rides it out as he also fights for his own sweet release. As your hips come to a stutter, he grips at your waist and pummels his dick up into your aching pussy.

His tongue continues to lav lazily at your jawline and, by the time he reaches his own high, you are beginning to cringe from the sensitivity. Yet, you hold on, pushing away the slight sting as you help coax him to his high, squeezing your muscles around him. He cums moments later, releasing into you warm and wet, crying your name.

“Fuck, Y/N━ Gonna fill you up, baby, just how you like it━”

He rams his hips up into yours for one final effort, shuddering in elation as his cock twitches every last drop of cum from it. Then, both breathless and panting, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, you slump against his chest, resting your forehead against his. The car instantly goes silent and the foreground music that was the radio comes to once more. You listen to the soft lyrics as the two of you bask in the afterglow of sex and he kisses you all over.

You don’t know how much time passes as the two of you lay there, his hands rubbing comforting circles on your hips as your own fingers trace the tattoos that ink his skin.

“You know━” Taehyung speaks up eventually, his voice a low mumble. “Gonna be extra hard not to be late getting to gigs now.”

“Uh oh.” You roll your eyes. “Think we’ve got all the time in the world now for sex, Tae.”

Taehyung grins. “I was thinking more about the fact that I’m not gonna want to get out of bed in the morning, whenever you fall asleep beside me.”

Your heart swells at his confession and you peck his cheek quickly before burying your face in the crook of his neck. It’s his own serenade of sorts, his small promise in the backseat of his car, that makes it all okay in the end.

“And,” Taehyung admits cheekily this time, “knowing we don’t have to keep us a secret anymore, even to ourselves━ I'm definitely not gonna be able to keep my hands off of you now.”

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

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broodingboysimp · 2 years

Text

Is It Really For the Best? - pt 1

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Azriel x female!reader

Summary: The mating bond between the reader and Azriel clicks into place, but with the potential war with Hybern on the rise, the risk of having that bond fall into the enemy’s hands has the reader and Azriel questioning their partnership.

*takes place after the events of ACOTAR/ACOMAF*

Warnings: angst

Author’s note: Hi guys! This is my first EVER fic, so please be kind lol. I have been reading fanfiction for years now, and finally felt confident enough to share some of my own ideas. This chapter is more of a setup piece, so look forward to more involved content in the future. I’m hoping to turn this into a decent sized fic! Also, sorry for any technical errors, these stories have a lot of plot/lore so I apologize for any mess ups.

As soon as you were winowed back to Velaris, as soon as your feet hit the ground in the manor, as soon as Azriel’s eyes locked with yours, you knew.

You knew that even after those 50 years apart he still loved you, would do anything for you. You could practically feel the aching in his chest cease at the sight of you. The aching in your own chest only grew more intense, because even though you were grateful to be home, grateful even to be alive, the second you felt the string click into place, you knew it gave you more to lose.

You and Az had met 500 years ago, during the first battles for Prythain. You were human at the time, a leading general for your unit, which is how you wound up in a meeting alongside the Courts. His shadow’s caught your senses first, practically filling your presence next to the Night Court with pure fear. But it had been a long time since you felt scared, and that intrigued you. What intrigued you more was who was behind those searching tendrils of terror: intense features, smooth, dark skin, and towering wings. You seemed to have caught his eyes too, your fighting leathers doing wonders for your curving figure, but your intense and unwavering stare was what really got him.

In a flurry of undiscussed feelings and intimate encounters, you and Az quickly moved from companions to much more. But as it does, war was destructive, and along with that came the sacrifice of your own life.

You don’t remember much from those moments: a copper taste in your mouth, a dull ache in your center, and the screams coming from your Night Court companions, of whom you had grown quite fond of through those months preparing for battle together. Your friends held your body, felt your blood run, as the life trickled out of you. Mor, Rhys, Amren, and Cass stood by your side; Azriel nowhere in sight as you took your last breath.

And then you took another one, hearing your friends collectively sigh. By the cauldron, and also you’re sure by an act of Rhys’ sheer rage over the situation, you had been remade with the collective powers of all the present high fae. Made, and now fae yourself.

The months that followed were strange; adjusting to your new body, your new position in the Night Court as somewhat of a mercenary. You traveled throughout Prythian, hunting creatures that the war had neglected to finish off, rarely taking time to stop back at your new home. You hadn’t talked to Azriel since the events of that day, since he had failed to stand by your side until the very end. You simply packed up your belongings, said goodbye to your friends, and started your journey. Years went by, the only contact you had with the Court of Dreams was an occasional scheduled run in with Rhys, but you didn’t dare step foot in Velaris. Not after all those years had turned that spark of love for Az into more of a contained rage over what had happened.

It wasn’t until Rhys requested your presence Under the Mountain, a supposed celebration for Amarantha and her coming to power. Everything happened so fast, and before you could draw any swords or use any powers, you were trapped. For 50 years you endured your own personal hell, part of it being watching one of your best friends suffer at the hands of such a cruel person, the other part being having to live knowing you couldn’t do anything about it.

Then along came Feyre, an instant friend that you worked your hardest to assist during her trials, and she broke you from the wretched curse. And now here you were, back in Velaris, back home, feeling even more suffocated than before.

“Y/N…” His eyes seemed pleading. Everyone stood surrounding you and Rhys, whose arm you held and didn’t dream of letting go in fear of ending up back where you came from. Exhaustion was creeping into the room, the weight of the travel and the burden of 50 years leaking from both of your souls.

“About fucking time,” Cass stepped out from the shadows, clapping Rhys on the back. I could feel the bones in his body shudder at the intensity of the impact.

“Sorry to keep my lovers waiting,” Rhys grinned sarcastically, and although it looked genuine, everyone in the room could sense the tension behind it. But everyone also understood that now wasn’t the time to be solemn, wasn’t the time for sad stories.

“I think we’re going to need a lot of wine for tonight..’” Amren rolled her eyes and headed for the cellar, and you giggled, finally releasing the death grip you held on Rhy’s arm. Home.

Everyone else laughed too, and in that moment the tension seemed to release itself slightly. Mor stood staring at the two of you, tears starting to glisten on her cheeks.

“I-I never thought I’d see you too again...” She trailed off.

“I almost hoped I wouldn’t,” Cass snorted, and Mor shot daggers with her look.

Rhys sighed and started striding towards the living area, the confidence filling each step more and more as he strode. The weight of Under the Mountain was still heavy on his shoulders, but the joy of being back in Velaris, back home and with his family, had him yet again walking like a high lord.

“I hoped you enjoyed your 50 years of peace, because I’m back to raise some hell, and also drink some goddamn wine.” You again laughed, taking a step behind him, but froze as you remembered the eyes still digging into your soul.

You turned towards Az, his eyes still remaining fixed on yours. You let out a deep sigh, preparing to speak, but he spoke first.

“I know you felt that… feel it,” He was talking about the bond, that piece of invisible string that just snapped into place. You held his gaze and stepped forward, reaching for his hands that were held stiffly at his sides.

He let you grab them, feeling the rough scars and calluses, your heart skipping a beat as you recalled where exactly they had once been. His shoulders loosened.

“Az…” your eyes were stinging as you carefully picked your words, “I need time,” you sighed, and yet again felt his shoulders tense, “after everything that just happened, everything that will happen…” you let your gaze drop to the floor.

You opened your mouth to speak again, but he cut you off. “I understand,” he dropped your hands, sliding them into his pockets and readjusting his posture back to his casually confident and alert stature.

“I-I just… I think it’s for the best…and I don’t want anyone… you… to get hurt, and-”

“I understand.” You met his gaze again, and they felt as distant as they once felt years ago, when you saw him for the first time since after that battle.

You remained silent as he strode away, heading to where his friends stood laughing in the living room. You stared, body and soul feeling heavy. You peered down the hall towards the stairs, knowing that there was a bedroom that, while unoccupied for many years, sat waiting for your return. But even with the tears stinging in your eyes, even with the pain aching in your bones, the happiness you felt from being home was enough to motivate you to take those steps towards your friends.

Sitting around, passing wine, laughing, and smiling from ear-to-ear, the Court of Dreams sat reunited. But you felt the strain, not only from you and Rhys’ return, but on that invisible thread pulling you towards the shadowsinger, who peered out the window far across the room, looking as handsome as ever.

The wine was passed to you, and you took more than a large swig, fully aware that it was going to take a lot more than alcohol to keep you in check…

#azriel #azriel x reader #acotar #acomaf #shadowsinger #spymaster #azriel/reader #azriel angst #azriel acotar

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herofics · 2 years

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hey !! i’ve been feeling like absolute shit again, and was hoping for some sort of comfort, haha. i was wondering if i could request a class 1a/deku x reader, in where the reader is visibly declining, despite her best efforts to not let it show. she attempts to maintain a positive façade, but aizawa and her classmates take notice to her failing grades, lack of socialization, self harm (cutting/burning, thighs/stomach/arms, starvation), and overall smile-ridden depression. all until it accumulates into major recklessness in battle, taking blows for others when unnecessary and being terribly self-sacrificial; her doing so as a result of active suicidal ideation. (also sorry, this is a nitpicky thing ik, and i’m trying rlly hard to word it in a way that doesn’t sound brash or pretentious !! but i’ve never once cried during sh or when speaking about it, and a lot of fanfics portray only sobbing and regret and it’s sort of uncomfortable ,? if at all possible, and if ur totally comfy with it, could y/n not cry too much in front of others?) if this is too triggering or upsetting, or simply too much lol, i completely understand !!! feel free to turn it down, okay ? absolutely no pressure :) thank u !

Sorry this took forever, since this would have ended up as a really long scenario so I made long HCs instead, since this is a lot of stuff. Also I wrote it pretty much only with Deku

•You weren’t doing well to begin with and the school stress, USJ incident, the attack at the training camp and the move to the dorms didn’t really help with the stress

•Deku being an active component in all of it of course made you worry like crazy

•The trauma just kept piling up and so did the stress and you just couldn’t take it anymore

•You started falling deeper and deeper into depression, you hardly talked to anyone and after every school day you just shut yourself in your dorm room

•Deku tries to be there for you, but obviously he has his own life too and even though you’re a big part of that he can’t help you if you don’t let him

•Even Aizawa suggests to you that maybe you should talk to someone, or go see Recovery girl or a psychiatrist, he offers to talk with you as well, but you just smile at him and tell him you’re okay

•You’re hurting yourself constantly, barely eating, skipping school to sleep all day and anyone barely sees you outside of school hours

•Deku starts noticing your arms covered in bandages and long sleeves all the time, and even when he confronts you about it, you just tell him it’s none of his business and to buzz off

•Your relationship is deteriorating and you feel like it’s better that way, at least it won’t hurt him when you’re gone

•You start doing some really stupid stuff, taking hits on purpose like you want to get hurt

•During this whole time you’ve barely ever cried, you just feel numb and like nothing matters anymore

•The final nail in the coffin comes when you take a bit too big of a hit during a confrontation with a villain and end up half dead in a hospital

•Deku finally decides he needs to make you stop this and even though you had been drifting apart and barely spoke before that, he wants to make sure you’re okay and that you get help

•Deku spends the next day sitting beside your hospital bed, holding your hand and waiting for you to wake up

•When you do he has this serious look on his face, but at the same time he is crying and telling you he’s so glad you’re awake and alive

•Somehow that’s a bit of a wake up call for you, to see someone so worried and and relieved that you’re okay, that you weren’t dead

•Deku talks to you for a long time and even though it’s not his fault, he profusely apologizes for not interfering with your downwards spiral sooner

•He doesn’t let go of your hand the whole time he is there with you, Deku just feels like he’s gonna lose you if he lets go now

•You don’t really talk much, and you don’t tell him what you’ve been going through for the last couple of months especially

•But he talks, he talks and he cries and eventually he manages to make you cry a bit too, because he just wants you to know you’re not alone and that he wants to be there for you every step of the way from now on

•He tells you he loves you and that he will be there for you in anyway he can

•You two hug and he embraces you so hard it hurts a bit, but in that moment, you don’t care

•Maybe there really is a light at the end of the tunnel and maybe he was yours