#until life starts tearing apart at the seams

[nokwisi]

Can make a Viktor go back to his room to get some sleep and find a corset-only reader? (NFSW)

redress (in a state of undress) — viktor x fem!reader warnings/tags: nsfw, 18+, masturbation, teasing, oral sex, vaginal sex, edging, powerplay, dom/sub dynamics (dom!reader, sub!viktor), marking, viktor + whining note: I took some serious creative liberties with this one, and just kinda went with the flow of what I felt like writing. totally went off the rails of the request, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless, anon! wordcount: 4.8k

Viktor has been scarce, as of late.

With the rapid and exciting development of Hextech, he'd been holed up in his lab more often than not. Long days bleeding into late nights, sometimes spilling into the morning after, ignorant to anything say for prospect of furthering his work. You understand. He and Jayce are on the cusp of discovering something truly life-altering, holding the future in their hands; obsession was inevitable.

But, you'd be lying if you said you aren't feeling a little neglected.

You'd never outright tear Viktor from his work, however. The process of separating the scientist from the creation is a tedious one, and being involved with Viktor has taught you that patience is indeed a virtue—but the goal you're working towards is anything but virtuous...

The first day, it's nothing but a look.

Viktor gathers his belongings—journals, schematics, his well-worn pen—his other hand leaning on his cane, rendering him incapable of effectively hugging you before he departs to the lab. He offers a rushed, apologetic look. You gaze up at him through the fan of your lashes, teasing, "go on then, man of progress."

He goes to leave, hesitates in his step, then gives a soft chuckle. The glint he tosses your way is one of endearment, and gratitude.

The second day, it's a touch.

To his credit, he leaves his blueprints and myriad of notes until after he embraces you. It's intimate and lingering, as though silently apologizing for the day prior; enveloping you in his arms with his chin resting atop your head. You can feel the fluttering pulse of his heart where your lips ghost against his pale throat.

He draws a line up the curve of your spine, following it to the nape of your neck to languidly twirl the wispy hairs there. When his eagerness and your understanding inevitably tears you apart, you reach up and cradle his face in your palm; gliding your fingers along the sharp line of his jaw as you pull away completely.

You admire him fondly all the while.

He blushes—you shoo him promptly after.

The third day, it's a kiss.

You haven't kissed him in days, and it takes a conscious effort to not simply drag him back into the bed and have your way with him, absconding his time for your own selfish desire. Instead, you opt to leave him yearning, chasing down the taste of you; tantalized and hungry.

He holds your head in his hands, his long fingers combed through your hair as he glides his tongue along the seam of your lips, silently begging for entrance. You resist the temptation of opening your mouth, denying both of you that electric sensation; feigning obliviousness to the way he steps closer, seeking more with the press of his slender torso against your own.

Gently, you pry yourself free from him, holding his wrists in your hands as you drink in the lust that twists his angled features. He's always looked so ethereal in his desire, painted in hues of ivory and rose; eyes at half-mast, glassy with the haze of yearning. It nearly pains you to step back, effectively snuffing out the flame that flickers between you two.

"At this rate, Jayce will start work without you." You tell him, keeping your voice light and airy. "You should go."

Viktor's lashes flutter, resurfacing from the moment. He gives a small nod, swallows thickly, and clenches his teeth hard enough you can see the ripple of sinewy muscle in his gaunt cheeks. "Right, yes, I...I should not keep him waiting."

His words hang in the air like a double-entendre; neither of you dare pluck it into fruition, and instead Viktor leaves with a touch of haste.

You watch him go with a knowing smile.

The fourth day, you are gone before he wakes.

He's grown fond of your warmth beside him, the tangle of your limbs and the wild splay of your hair, tickling his face feather-light long before he opens his eyes. The damp heat of your breath against his sternum has become a normality, the drape of your arms around his waist a comfort.

Viktor wakes that morning with an ache that digs far deeper than any physical ailment. The note you'd left on his bedside table does little to slake that feeling:

Vik,

Prof. requested my presence at the apprenta auditions. It seems there's still work yet for those of us not unraveling the mysteries of the Arcane. All teasing aside, I wish you great progress in your endeavors today.

Viktor returns the note to the table with a delicate touch, before promptly falling back into the overly plush comfort of his bed. He runs a hand through his tousled hair, sighs, then drapes his forearm over his stomach.

He thinks of you. He envisions your soft features; the sinuous dips and curves of your body; the feverish way you wrap yourself around him when he's above you—inside you—holding him close, lips and tongue loose with praise for both him and the gods alike.

His hand ventures downwards, over the flat plane of his abdomen, gliding between the apex of his hips.

Viktor knows what you're doing. He's aware of your methodical seduction. Conscious that you not being here is meant to make him feel this ache, this yearning that needles it's way into the very marrow of his being. He is a flustered concoction of longing, lustful, and repentant, and he gasps out loud when his fingers wrap around his stiff length.

He tries to keep his touch fleeting—teasing, reminiscent of the way you do it. It isn't the same, he is painfully aware of that fact. Left to his own devices, neglected in the very same manner he's left you these recent weeks; the message is certainly not lost on him.

Still, Viktor can't help but wonder if you're thinking of him in this moment. The image of him frustrated, blushing red as he digs his head into the pillow and bucks his hips into his fist. You're familiar with the way he grits out your name when he's close, breathless and desperate—are you hearing him, now?

He imagines you with a knowing smirk on your beautiful lips.

He arrives precisely when you expect him to, early enough in the night to confirm your efforts haven't been in vain. You feel light and giddy with excitement, despite the unyielding tightness of the article constricting your upper-half.

It's an intricate thing, perhaps a touch ostentatious for the moment, but Viktor has always appreciated the complex.

The corset is a rich, mahogany brown; gold designs of cogs and gears threaded meticulously into the fabric, accented with glimmering bronze fastens that steeple down the middle of your torso. The deep line of the bust is embellished with black lace, frilled to tickle the sensitive skin of your breasts—pushed up and together, nearly spilling over the top. Contrastingly, you're wearing nothing but sheer, voile panties.

You sit on the edge of the bed, prim with your knees tucked beneath you, resisting the urge to fret over yourself. Through the door, you can detect the distinct thump of Viktor's cane, announcing his approaching presence in a manner that corresponds with the anxious flutter of your heart.

Here we go.

The door opens, and immediately, his golden eyes are drawn towards the corset. A lovely blush dusts his cheeks promptly afterwards, and for a moment, he is genuinely stunned—standing inert in the doorway of your shared bedroom, staring.

It's quite the accomplishment, really. You can count on one hand the amount of times Viktor's been stunned speechless. You can't help the victorious smirk that threatens your composure, tugging your lower lip between your teeth as you wiggle your hips a bit; baiting him.

"Welcome home, Viktor." You purr.

"I..." He starts and stalls in the span of an instant, reaching up to sweep the flat of his palm over his mouth with a steadying exhale. "I can't help but feel like I have missed something important." He murmurs.

You quirk your head curiously, gracefully sliding your legs off the bed to stand. "Is this not to your taste? I had you in mind when I picked it out."

He's quick to shake his head, gripping the notch of his cane tight, steadying himself as you approach him with all the grace of a feline stalking prey. There's a glint of apprehension in the way he looks at you, and a swelling sense of accomplishment brews in your lower belly; he's as keen as ever.

"No! It's beautiful—you are...beautiful. Alarmingly so, to be honest." He swallows, "if I weren't so distracted, I might even realize that this is a trap."

You giggle; it chimes elegantly in the air. Innocuously, you say, "a trap? Why would you think that?"

Breeching the space between you two, you cup Viktor's cheek in the warmth of your palm, lovingly stroking your thumb across the beauty mark beneath his eye. He leans into your touch with a wry, knowing quirk of his lips.

"Will admitting my faults be enough to please you? No—I cannot imagine you went through such great lengths for something as meager as an apology."

You hum, "they don't call you a genius for nothing."

Viktor reaches up, daring to cradle the back of your head in his large hand, pulling you close. You indulge him, but stop just shy of his eager mouth; his breath, carrying a sweet piquancy, blooms hot against your face.

"Nonsense. I am nothing but a fool for you, my love."

You inch closer, letting your lips graze his, your tone slipping into something sultry, "let's put that to the test then, shall we?"

And then you pull away, silently reveling in the way Viktor physically leans forward, as though chasing you down. "A test? Hm. I've always done well with those." He muses, playfully—but the breathy quality there betrays him.

You drop your hand from his face to his tie, pulling it from his vest with a neat little tug. He follows the movement eagerly, like a man hypnotized, tracing your steps until the backs of your knees touch the bed. He pushes his hips against you, willing you to tumble onto the plush at your back.

"Is that so? This is a bit of a pop quiz, y'know." Slipping out from between him and the bed, you saunter around him, using his tie to guide him until your positions have flipped.

"I happen to be intimately familiar with the subject matter." Viktor remarks; but no matter how he clings to his clever banter, you can see urgency etched clear in his eyes.

Good.

"On the bed." Keeping your voice saccharine, you let the tie slip from your fingers like sand, giving a firm little push against the middle of his sternum with two fingers. "And no touching."

The corners of his mouth threaten to turn up again, "a fitting punishment, I think."

Letting himself drop down, he abandons his cane at the foot of the bed in favor of fisting the duvet in either hand. Your initial goals of asserting yourself wavers just so at the sight of him. He's rapt with you, following every single movement you make as you step into the open space between his splayed knees. Having been denied his attentions for so long, you can't help but revel in having it all, now.

Still—you've been planning this for days. However fulfilling it is to see that lustful ardor in Viktor's eyes, you want to see a glimmer of something a bit more...desperate.

"Did you think of me?"

Your fingers dance along his knees, upwards. Viktor's breath grows shallow with anticipation, his grip on the duvet tightening as you near dangerously close to his groin; paying special mind to avoid the stiffness of his erection straining prominently against his slacks.

"Perhaps you should be more specific." He exhales; you feel the sinewy cords of muscle in his thighs twitch beneath your palms. "I think of you quite often."

You playfully strike your tongue against your teeth, removing your hands from his legs in favor of pushing against the thin shelf of his shoulders. Viktor falls back on to the bed with a punched out sigh, his hair splayed out around his head as he peers up at you; awed, enthralled, anxious.

"Could've fooled me." You quip, deftly sliding up and over him to settle with your knees astride his slender waist.

"I've no problem with you investing all your time in the pursuit of a better tomorrow, Viktor." You roll back onto his erection with a purposeful little wriggle.

Viktor hisses with a combination of discomfort and utter need, tugging against the bedspread to keep from reaching out and grabbing your hips.

"But, I thought you were above placating me with lies."

"Never—I would not lie about that." He grits out, becoming increasingly distracted as you let your movements fall into a repetitious grind; rubbing your cunt against the hard line of his cock.

He stumbles through his next words, tacking them on in haste, "I do—I think about you frequently. I sometimes wish that were not the case—mmmph!"

You ground yourself with your palms pressed flat against his chest, rocking back against him hard, enamored with the way he's crumbling beneath you.

You haven't even gotten to the best parts, yet.

"Tell me, then."

"You make it difficult to focus." Spilling the words, his face has taken on an opaque blush, eyes half-lidded as he gazes up at you in a dazed need. "I cannot think properly on the best of days because of you."

"Strange attempt at a compliment, Viktor." Listless, slowing your movements, you start working on the intricacies of his clothing.

Pulling his tie loose; working the buttons open on his vest; the undershirt beneath that, you move in a manner that almost appears bored.

"You misunderstand." He's quick to say, "before you, I have never been so continuously deterred from my work. There was nothing interesting enough—nothing else capable of distracting me the way you do."

Your heart sings at the praise; but you keep that glee concealed as you split open his clothes, exposing his chest. Working downwards, you reveal more and more of his alabaster skin to your hungry gaze.

His chest rises and falls with his labored breathing, and you skim your fingers down his torso, bisecting him tenderly. His taut stomach twitches, hips jerking upwards to jostle you. A small noise in the back of his throat, bordering on a whine, makes a shiver dance like firelights across your skin.

"You are..." he says, breathy, "you are my biggest distraction."

"Such a romantic sentiment—" dipping down, you nuzzle your face beneath his sharp jaw, letting your fingers skirt back up his stuttering chest; nails gently dragging against him. Goosebumps raise in the wake of your touch, and you inhale discreetly, reveling in the familiar scent of him.

Viktor is eager to angle his head back, allowing you to press your lips against the slender column of his throat. His pulse gallops, and you nip him just hard enough to earn a tangible moan. "—coming from a man with such indomitable focus."

It's heavy with sarcasm. Viktor remains astute as ever, an impressive feat, considering his current state of being.

"What...what is it you want to hear?"

He's pushing against you, now, rocking his hips up to steal friction. You let him have it, if only to hear the needy little noises that manifest in his throat.

"Details, Viktor." You crane your head, whispering against the soft palette beneath his ear, "how do you think of me?"

He shudders at the sound of your voice, the little vibration it echoes into the tender flesh. His head turns to the side as you start sucking against his neck, painting the ivory canvas of his skin with dense mottles of purple and red. Below, you keep a languid, undulating rhythm of your hips, panties growing damp from your own arousal.

"I—ah—I think of your eyes." He stutters, you hum; coaxing him on as you follow the tendon of his throat, downwards. "I think of how you look at me. It is intoxicating, being the subject of your desires."

You continue your venture down the unyielding plane of his chest, dipping your tongue into the divot where collarbones meet, grazing your teeth against the hardness of his sternum, tracing the ladder of his ribs, made exceedingly prominent with his stilted breathing. Your gaze flicks to his hands as you pay tribute to the stretch of skin between his navel, and the hem of his pants. They are clenched still in the duvet, knuckles bled white, the tendons protruding with the vigor of holding himself back.

"Do you wish to see that look, now?"

You shimmy your hips cattily, dragging your heat against his painfully hard cock as you slink downwards, off his lap completely. Laying open mouthed kisses against his flexing stomach, you pay mind to his bad leg whilst peering up at him—and what a sight he makes.

Viktor is the embodiment of disheveled: his chestnut hair is absolutely wild, wayward strands falling over his darkened eyes as he watches you, mesmerized; desire softening his sharp features. A flourish of color blooms on his cheeks, dusting his love-bitten throat and chest.

"More than anything." He admits—although that may be too strong of a word. Viktor lets the confession roll off his tongue, as natural as breathing. "I...I can achieve orgasm by just envisioning the look on your face when I am fucking you."

Oh.

The swear sounds unexpectedly sharp on his tongue; as equally unexpected as the effect it has on your body, cutting straight through you with a swathe of heat. More of that, you note—you wish to hear him debauched.

"And have you?" You prod, feeling a little breathless yourself.

Viktor squirms a little, swallows, then nods quickly.

He's growing sheepish alongside impatient, and you place a single, open-mouthed kiss against the blade of his hip, darting your tongue out quick to taste the heat of him, before finally touching him where he needs it most.

"When?"

You whisper against his skin, mercifully palming his hot, achingly stiff cock, making quick work of the fastens of his pants with the other. His breath catches in his throat. You feel the jittery, uncontrollable tremor in his legs.

You almost feel bad.

Almost.

"This morning," He rushes out, his head thrown back in such a way to pronounce the length of his neck, the prominence of his sharp Adam's apple and the splotches of color you'd adorned him with moments earlier, "this is torturous—"

"You think this is torturous? Imagine how I felt." You say casually, as though you're not sliding your hand into the confines of his pants, wrapping fingers around the steel-hard base of him; as though he hadn't just admitted to masturbating to the thought of you, that very morning.

But he did, and that knowledge is enough to feed the flame that's growing within you, arousal twisting the insides of your belly like a rag. Viktor opens his mouth to reply, but his voice snags in his throat when you envelope him in the softness of your palm. He is throbbing, and as you pull him free, you take silent pleasure in the pre-cum that pearls at the ruddy tip of him.

"I admit—I've d-done a poor job of conveying my affection." He stumbles over his words, his accent growing thick. "It has not been my i-intention."

You hum thoughtfully; a display of indifference that juxtaposes the rapid fire of your heart. Of all the times you've been with Viktor, you don't think you've ever seen him as disordered as he is, now.

Laying your cheek against the hardness of his hip, you give him a slow, listless stroke from the base, all the way to the tip. You can feel his entire frame pull taut, wound up tight in anticipation for a rhythm that fails to begin. Stopping at the head, you sweep your thumb over his slit, spreading the pearlescent slick there.

Viktor whines, "oh—please, my love—" one hand pries free from his death-grip on the duvet to drag through his hair, gripping it, pulling it with a grit of his teeth.

All his sharp verbosity is shattered on his tongue, bleeding out breathy pleas and gravel-pitched groans. The tendons of his throat are rigid, the rise and fall of his torso like that of a tumultuous wave. You can feel tension pull on every nerve in his body; and you wickedly wonder, still caressing the head of his cock, squeezing him intermittently, how much more he can take before he snaps entirely.

You tell yourself that you are feeling merciful, that it has nothing to do with your insides twisting and writhing behind your mask of salacious indifference. You say instead, softly; affectionate and forgiving, "I know."

And then you take him into your mouth, and the sudden wet heat there makes Viktor's responding groan break in the air. The sound curls high with need as you give a teasing suck, swirling your tongue around the tip. It's a bitter, heady taste, but familiar in a way that makes arousal pool between your thighs.

"Yes—yes, please—" Viktor breathes, and then he nearly jolts upright entirely when you suddenly sink down unto him, letting the weeping tip of his cock slide just so into the tight channel of your throat.

He whispers a sharp swear in his mother tongue, propping his chest up with an unsteady arm behind him. His other hand tears from the bedspread, and you can see as you gaze up at him, gently bobbing along his throbbing cock, how he nearly takes the reign of your hair through sheer instinct alone—

It makes the action of him slapping his hand over his mouth exponentially more gratifying.

You hum praise for him on the downstroke. Viktor's eyes screw shut, his own sound of pleasure muffled beneath his palm. A heavy pulse on your tongue tells you he's already close, as he has seemingly lost the ability to do so himself: bucking his hips on the offbeat of your rhythm, chasing down the tight heat of your throat as his fingers dig into his gaunt cheeks.

You grant him one more thrust, swallowing around him for good measure—and it sounds like he shouts against his hand—before you suddenly pull off completely. You give a kittenish little, 'ah', feeling slick web between your lips, stroking him with a shallow pressure.

His hand drops from his mouth back into the sheets, curling them in his fist as he inhales sharp enough it cuts the air. He looks at you like you've betrayed him; you draw back slow enough to not break the gossamer thread connecting your tumescent lips to his cock.

And then you smile.

"Vixen." He wheezes it like a curse, sounding devastated and awed all at once. He fixates on the way you reach up and daintily swipe the corner of your mouth with a finger.

"Tease." You counter, crawling your way back up the length of his body. "Besides, I am a bit of a mistress, aren't I?" You grind against the hot shaft of him again, your slick dampening your panties enough it translates to a smooth glide.

Viktor drops back with a moan, the motion aided with your hands on his chest. Wisps of hair stick to his forehead and temples, eyes flooded with the black of his dilated pupils.

"Temptress, more like."

"Hmm. Is that what I do, then? Tempt you into straying from your first love?" You tease, and it's meant to be rhetorical, but Viktor nods his head in response, regardless.

"Yes," his attention flits from your face, down to where you are rubbing against him. His breath is labored, his whole body flushed a wanton pink.

"Yes, you tempt me in ways that drive me to madness. How could I ever focus on anything else, when I am privy to what you feel like?" His tone catches gravel, his eyes sharpening as he slants his gaze back up to lock with yours.

Your hips stutter, a scintilla of raw lust igniting within you at the sudden shift of his demeanor. Drawing your lower lip between your teeth, you dip a hand between your bodies, raising your hips just enough to hastily tug aside that drenched layer of fabric.

"Details." You echo your words from earlier, but the deviance in your tone is washing out with the wave of need that rolls through you.

You lower your hips to press your slit against the underside of his shaft, rocking short and choppy, slicking the length of him, and Viktor sighs sharply. "You curse me, I can hardly work because I am constantly thinking of your mouth, of how beautiful you look with my cock between your lips—my name on your tongue."

You shiver, widening the breadth of your motions until the head of his length rubs teasingly against your hole. Viktor groans, "and here," he dares to bring a hand to your mound, sweeping his thumb over your clit, and you shiver and whine against your will, "where I fill you with my cock, and you take it all as though you were made for me."

It feels like heaven, the lazy way he presses circles into you, but you are not so lust-drunk that you can't perceive the shift of power he's vying for. You score your lower lip with your teeth, reach down and steal his hand away with your fingers laced together.

"It's true, moya lyubov. If you knew the extent to which I think of you, you would never question where my affections lie."

It's genuine in a way that juxtaposes the scorching heat his earlier words left behind, and a part of you is aware of the way it whittles at your resolve, a gentle seduction that Viktor has always been apt at demonstrating. You cast a heavy gaze upon him, tightening your fingers around his hand, and he mirrors the action.

"You don't need to fantasize, Viktor." Pressing your hips down hard on the forward stroke, he flinches and moans, "I am here, I want you just as much...and, I'm willing to share you." You say the last part with a light, jeering tone.

Viktor huffs out a strangled chuckle, "then please, indulge yourself—!" He is cut short with a choked out moan as you slide back, the head of his cock catching on your hole, before sinking into the tight clutch of your heat; stretching you out too quick, filling you until you're settled flushed against his angular hips.

"Fuck."

It's a sharp, poignant swear, slipped out from his grit teeth, and you shiver, a wave of static pleasure lancing through you, from your curled toes, all the way to the tips of your ears. Delighted at the sound of him, you squeeze around him purposefully. Viktor's grip on your hand tightens enough it aches, and you use him as leverage as you begin to sway atop him, grinding your clit against his pelvic bone hard enough to catch flame.

"I hope you don't mind, Viktor." You pant, thrilled at the absolutely wrecked expression on his face. His length spears you deep enough that there's an intoxicating twinge of pain each time you settle fully back unto him, a torrent of your arousal punctuating the action with an obscene, wet slide. "I said I would share, but I'm feeling greedy."

He breathes out a string of words in a foreign cadence, sprinkled within are fragments that catch your ear; most enticing being that of, "—yes, please—use me."

His free hand, unable to remain at his side, snaps out to grab at the crescent of your hip, pressure felt even through the dense fabric of your corset. You're quick to pry his grip from you, clumsily entangling your fingers with his before falling over him, pinning his hands down on either side of his head.

You are close enough that his breath puffs out heavily against your mouth; and he cranes his neck, tries to steal your lips in a kiss you quickly deny—contrary to how badly you wish to. His lashes flutter against his sharp cheekbones, eyes opening to look at you with a combination of desire and delirium.

Your voice is sweet, "I plan to."

#viktor x reader #viktor x you #arcane viktor #arcane #arcane fanfiction #my writing #listen i know i went wayyy off track but this is just how my mind works dsadsa

[forever-rogue]

Traditions

AN |  More fluff! Inspired by some time ago when I mentioned that Javier would totally be a “matching Christmas sweaters dad.” It’s just some fluff with our fave little family 🥺 This can be read as a stand alone  or as part of the AGM universe! Thank you guys for the continued love! Dedicated to @theorganasolo​ for always being so sweet and wonderful ❤️

Summary | Javier likes suburban dad life….so much it leads to matching sweaters.

Pairing | Javier x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language, mentions of sex [nothing explicit], pregnancy, baby making, and throwing out birth control [it shouldn’t have to be said but I’ll do it anyway - seriously don’t do this without asking a partner - remember this is set in an ideal fantasy world!] 

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | Main, Javier, A Good Man ‘Verse

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Javier Peña never thought he would be the man that walked around a department store with a baby strapped to his chest and a toddler holding his hand. 

No. That had once been astronomically far from who he was. If someone had told him that one day this would be his reality, he would have laughed until tears ran down his face and he was gasping for oxygen. 

But now? This was his everything; his whole world summed up in the children he had with him and the wife that was waiting at home. He could have nothing else - be nothing else - and be happy about it so long as he had the three of you. 

The man that had once been described as grumpy, rude, an asshole, a player, had changed into the man he was now. A kind, patient, loving father and husband. Then again - deep down, that had always been the real him. It had just taken the right person - you - to bring that out. 

In the few moments he thought he’d lost you, his whole life felt like it was falling apart at the seams. Even with all the things he had been through - the good, the bad, the horrible - nothing compared to the thought of a life without you. He thanked his lucky stars that you were just as foolish and in love as he was. His little family was his reason for being, and he would do anything to protect the three of you. 

“Daddy?” the sweet little voice pulled him out of his thoughts as his daughter tugged on his hand. She was looking up at him with a sweet little smile, but he knew how to see right through it; she was definitely up to something.

“¿Qué pasa, mija?” he asked as she started to tug him in the direction of the toy department. Of course - trying to take advantage of his softness while you weren’t around. Javier was extremely soft hearted when it came to them; not that you minded of course. He raised an eyebrow as she giggled, “you want a new toy? Christmas is coming up soon and then you’ll get lots of new toys.”

“But that’s not now,” she stuck her lower lip out in a pout, “please, daddy? We don’t have to tell mama!”

“She’ll know,” he bent down to her level and ran a hand through her dark curls, “she knows everything. But…maybe if you show me what you’d like, I can make a note for Santa. How does that sound?”

“Really?” her eyes lit up with excitement.

“Si,” he agreed as she started to pull towards the toys. He couldn't help but laugh and shake his head. She reminded him so much of you - in all the best ways. Meanwhile you always insisted that your son took after him, calm and mellow and always sweet, “slow down for your old man! We still have to look for sweaters!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Javier?” you closed the front door quietly behind you, doing your best not to make too much noise and wake the little ones. It was late - far later than you’d normally be out but Javier had insisted you spend an evening out with your girlfriends. Was it terrible that while you had fun, you still missed him? You kicked off your shoes and hung up your coat, freezing when you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist, “jesus - Javi! You could have given me a heart attack!”

“Bold of you to assume it was me,” his voice was low and thick, causing a shiver to run down your spine. He rested his head on your shoulder before pressing a kiss to the side of your head, “what if I was an intruder? You could easily be hurt by now.”

“Well then, it would be a very sexy intruder if they held me like or sounded like that,” you turned around so you were facing him. He was already in pajamas, but still managed to look better than anyone should. You brushed a few unruly locks off his forehead, “oh look! It is you - what a wonderful surprise.”

“Baby,” he closed the small gap and kissed you - gently at first but it quickly deepened as he licked into your mouth, his hands sliding down to your ass. It was hard to resist him, but one of you had to have some sense before you ended up having sex in the hallway. He pouted as you pulled back, “you’re breaking my fucking heart.”

“No, I’m trying to at least let you take me to bed before you break your back on the hardwood floor,” you nudged his hip with yours before reaching for his hand and pulling along with you, “we had sex this morning, in case you forgot.”

“So?” he scoffed with a wicked little smirk, “but we haven’t had sex tonight.”

“Javi,” you stepped into your bedroom, amused to see that he had already been in bed and reading, “we keep at it like that we’re going to have another baby.”

“I thought you were on birth control again?” he raised an eyebrow, watching with interest as you pulled off your pants.

“Yeah, umm…I am,” you waved your hand dismissively, “but there’s always like a one percent chance it fails. And with how you can’t seem to keep your hands off me, I wouldn’t be surprised if we were in that one percent.”

“I never hear you complaining,” he smirked as he slipped into the bed, leaning against the headboard as he watched your every move, “just begging. Oh Javi, right there. Javi, please…”

“Javier! Shush,” you stuck out your tongue as warmth crept into your face. You tugged off your shirt and bra, making a show of covering up before grabbing an oversized shirt. He huffed lightly as you just grinned at him, “that’s because I happen to love you. And I like having sex with you a lot. Like a lot, a lot.”

“There’s my girl,” his eyes lit up as you slid into bed next him, snuggling up to his side as he put an arm around you. You couldn’t help the yawn that escaped your lips, “tired, Dulzura?”

“Long day,” you put your head on his chest and reached for his hand, lacing your fingers together, “but this is always the best part.”

“Did you have fun?”

“I did,” you promised as you shifted so you were able to face him, “had a couple drinks, got to commiserate with other women, what could be better? Well…wanna know the one thing that could have made it better?”

“Hmm?”

“You,” you beamed at him as his expression softened, “have I just turned into one of those women that’s just fully obsessed with their husband?”

“Trust me, you deserve a break away from me and those little terrors,” he played it off, but in all honesty, it had meant the world to him, “I’m glad you had a good time, Dulzura.”

“What about you? Were the kids okay? Diego’s been fussy lately because he doesn’t want to take naps anymore, so I hope you were able to get him down for one,” they might have been a handful, but at least they were your handful, “what trouble did the three of you get up to?”

“I’ll first say that not a single hair on any of our heads was harmed and they were on their best behavior,” he grinned at you, “we went shopping for some sweaters. Christmas sweaters.”

“Oh, cute! They have the best sweaters for kids, I’m honestly a little jealous,” you laughed but curiosity got the better of you as Javier’s smile grew, “uh oh…what did you do, Peña?”

“I got us all sweaters!” he was out of bed and out of the door before you could even fully comprehend what happened. When he made it back into the room, he was holding a bag behind his back, “do you want to see now or be surprised?”

“You can’t tease me like that,” you sat up and motioned for him to show you the contents of the bag, “muéstrame!”

“So I had an idea but this just goes along with it,” Javier quickly pulled out the armful of sweaters…all of them matching. You laughed before motioning for him to show you them. They were all perfectly matching, a thick, knitted bright red with a cute fair isle winter pattern. The smallest one for your son was almost unbearably cute as you reached for it and clutched it to your chest. This was probably one of the last things you expected for him to pull out of the bag. But it was precious - just like him.

“Javier,” you quickly pulled the one intended for you on, “these are so cute! I love them - we’re going to be the cutest matching little family.”

“Y-you like them?” he was almost shy as you just nodded before pulling him in for a kiss. You could feel him smiling against your lips, “I thought…and don’t laugh - but I thought we could take family Christmas pictures in them. You know, be those cheesy old people that send out photos of themselves to other people to brag. O-only if you want to.”

“I love that idea,” you promised, “I think it’s sweet. I love that you thought of all of this, Javier. It’s…I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“Plus, it gives me an opportunity to show off our cute kids and my sexy husband,” you tugged on his shirt and pulled him closer to you so you both almost fell on the bed, “this is wonderful, really. If it turns out well this year, who knows - we might have a new family tradition.”

“We’ve really embraced suburban life, haven’t we?”

“I’m afraid so…but I like our ‘boring’ lives,” you admitted as you pulled off your sweater and shirt, letting them both fall to the floor in a heap, “but right now, I need you to touch me and make love to me.”

“With pleasure, mi vida.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“What did you do to the kids?” you whispered to Javier as the two of you watched the photographer take pictures of  them. It wasn’t that they were ever bad, but they were a handful…at almost five and two, the combo was a lot for anyone. Sometimes you weren’t sure how either of you managed to survive alone with them. But today, they were the picture of perfection. Adorable in their matching outfits, and cheesing for the camera like they were professionals, “are you sure they’re ours?”

“I wonder what the secret is,” he asked as he subconsciously reached for your hand and laced your fingers together, “maybe we just have to pull out a camera whenever we need them to be on their best behavior.”

“Maybe they like the photographer better than us…should we let her keep them?”

“A tempting offer, but I kind of like them,” Javier could barely stifle his laughter at words. You kissed his cheek before turning back to watch them, “look at them. I know they’re ours and I’m probably biased, but they’re cute. Lucia definitely takes after you.”

“What about your son?” you teased, “he’s going to be a little carbon copy of you. I could sharpie on a silly little mustache right now and no one could tell the difference!”

“Silly? I thought you liked-”

“I love your mustache,” you promised before dropping your voice to a whisper so only he could hear, “especially between my legs.”

“Dulzura-”

“And this little scruff you’ve got going on lately,” you smiled innocently, “it looks good on, Javier. Definitely goes with the whole sexy professor vibe.”

“Well then, I guess I’ll have to keep it,” he kissed the top of your head before the photographer called for your attention and asked you to join the kids. Before you each picked one of them up, you pulled him to you so your lips were close to his ears. 

“I’ve been thinking,” you said as he scooped up Lucia and balanced her on his hip, “I want another baby. I want you to get me pregnant again. Want you to fuck me until you knock me up.”

Without missing a beat, you leaned down and picked up Diego, cradling the little one to your chest, as you turned to smile at the camera. You posed, getting the kids to look at the camera as well, while Javier just stared at you in adoration. The picture that was captured, you would later discover, ended up being one of your all time favorites. 

After his initial shock had worn off, you were able to get some more photos of the four of you for your Christmas cards. Even with being biased, you couldn’t deny - you had a very good looking little family. Looking at Javier, especially Javier looking at you, you just knew in your heart that you were meant to be. All of the hard times you’d weathered and made it through were worth it. At the end of the day, you knew he was the only man you’d ever love. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Good night, my love,” you tucked Lucia into her bed, touching her cheek before pressing a kiss to her forehead. She grinned as she clutched her stuffed animal and burrowed into her warm blankets, “I hope you have dreams just as sweet as you, mi amor. If you need anything, daddy and I are right down the hall.” 

“I love you mama,” she yawned before closing her eyes as you flipped off the light and headed towards the door.

“I love you too, baby.”

You closed her door with a quiet click before going to poke your head in Diego’s room to make sure Javier was alright. It was hard not to melt at the sight of him in the rocking chair, his son sleeping on his chest as he snored lightly. 

“My boys,” you grinned as you tiptoed in the room and gently pulled the baby off his chest, making sure he remained asleep as you tucked him in the crib. Soon he would be out of it and in a little bed; how time flew. Once he was settled, you turned to your husband, gently touching his arm to slowly wake him, “honey.”

His eyes opened as he looked around the room and realized what had happened. The corners of his mouth twitched into a small smile as you helped him up, “I didn’t plan on falling asleep…”

“Yeah, yeah old man,” you whispered as you ushered him towards the door, “keep quiet and don’t wake either of the little terrors up and get your ass into bed, sexy old man.”

Making sure the baby monitor and night light were on, you closed the door almost all the way before heading to your own room. It had been a long weekend and you were ready for some good, sound rest. But you had an inkling that might still be some days away. 

“I’m beat,” you yawned as you walked into the bedroom and closed the door behind you, leaning it against for a moment, letting your eyes close. Javier was sitting on the edge of the bed, shirt off and only in some gray sweatpants, looking like he was deep in thought, “Javier…what’s on your mind?”

“What you said the other day, when we were taking those Christmas pictures…did you mean it?” he looked at you with soft eyes that had you falling for him over and over again. You sauntered over to him, pushing him back lightly as you settled in his lap, “baby…”

“Yes,” your hands found his shoulders as his hands found your waist. Leaning in so your lips were lightly brushing against his, “I meant it - still mean it. Can I…can I admit something but…please don’t be mad.”

“You can tell me anything.”

“I stopped taking the pill a few weeks ago,” you whispered, wondering how he would react. Your fears were elevated almost immediately from the expression on his face, “I-I wouldn’t have if I wasn’t sure I wanted this. And we’d talked about it and I think we both want it and I…I really want to have your baby. Just one more - that’s all.”

“I’d give you ten more if that’s what you wanted,” his hand found the back of your neck as he held you tenderly, “yes, of course I want this to. I want anything and everything with you, Dulzura. Fuck, I’m so in love with you.”

“You mean it?” it was a soft, gentle whisper as he touched your cheek, “I…you’re everything to me, Javier Peña. You, Lucia, Diego, and whatever other babies we’ll have.”

“I thought just one more?” he teased as you pushed him down his back, lying on top of him.

“Well, then you offered to give me as many as I wanted,” you kissed him, “and I like being pregnant with your babies. Like how jealous and protective you get of me. Like the fun we have making them too.”

“You’re absolutely going to be the death of me,” his hands were already tugging on the hem of your shirt, “mi vida.”

“I love you so much, Javier. Whether or not I’m horny,” you kissed along his jaw and trailed your lips down his neck, “you’re such a good father - love seeing you with our babies. Such a good husband, friend, lover. I love everything about you; from the moment I met you, I knew you were made to be mine.”

“I was yours then,” he deftly flipped you over so you were on your back underneath him, caged in by his strong arms, “I was yours from the start and I'll always be yours. Will you let me make love to you?”

“Yes,” you whispered, “please. But first - one more thing.”

“Hmm?”

“I love the little Christmas tradition you started - want to keep it going. Every year with every kid,” you kissed him, “I want all the silly little traditions we’ll make our own. I want all the cheesy, fun, boring old married people things. With you.”

“You’ll have it all, Dulzura,” he promised, “we’ll have it all. Always.”

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier Peña x you #javier Peña x fem!reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #agm #soft hours againnnn

[luimagines]

You Marry The Chain Part 2

Masterlist

Part 1

Part 2 will include Wild, Four and Twilight.

Content under the cut!

Wild

This is the second wedding Wild would witness in Terry Town. He just didn’t think it would be his own.

Everyone that he wanted to be there, was. Now, as he stands next to Kapson, he can feel the nervous and excited energy begun to build as he waits for you to meet him.

There’s more people here than he thought the town would hold. And to be completely honest, Wild thought you both were going to have a small wedding.

But as word got out that he was going to be married, more and more people wanted to attend and more and more changes had to be made and Wild thinks that if Terry Town was having trouble placing itself on the map, well... it certainly made its mark on the rest of the known world.

Wild can feel the energy leave him through his ever moving leg. He can’t stop tapping his foot and he can tell it’s beginning to get on Kapson’s nerves. He swallows and feels his heart soar once the music starts.

Part of him wants to run to you instead, the other half wants to vomit. There’s too much going on, and yet so little is actually happening and... time stops.

He sees you, in white, and he gets emotional all over again.

This is happening, this is real.

Wild feels his lip quiver and as much as he wants to keep it together, he falls apart. He doesn’t to slip through the cracks and break through the seams but he can’t help it. He cries like a baby the entire time you walk up the aisle, meeting him next to Kapson just like you both planned.

Wild reaches out his hand and you don’t hesitated to take it, your own tears pooling in your eyes. You don’t look upset or embarrassed at his emotional display. With his hand in yours, you give him a squeeze and smile brightly. He smiles back and wipes his tears the best he can manage, smiling as wide as his scars would let him for you to see that it’s all happy tears.

“You look beautiful.” Wild says, sniffing and blinking away a few more tears from his eyes. “Godlike, if I had to pick the words for it.”

Your own lip quivers and you laugh quietly. “thank you. You clean up rather nicely too. I thought you might have leaves in your hair but color me impressed.”

“I’m not that bad.” He smirks.

Kapson clears his throat and you both look at him. “Are we ready to begin the ceremony?”

You both nod and squeeze each others hands tighter.

“Very well then.  We shall now begin. We are gathering here today to join Hero of Hyrule, Link and this very beloved creature in matrimony. Link, before the eyes of these witnesses and before those of Goddess Hylia, do you take this individual to be your life partner, to have and to hold, in good times and in bad?”

Wild nods enthusiastically, trying to swallow past the nerves in his throat so that he can speak again. “I do.”

Kapson smiles and looks to you with a similar script. “ Excellent. And dearest, before the eyes of these witnesses and before those of Goddess Hylia, do you take Link as your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health?”

Your tears finally fall and you bring your hand to wipe them before you can get the cloth ruined before there any cake to be had. “I do.”

Kapson coughs but he smiles, wide and unburdened, despite the troubles he had to overcome for him to perform the ceremony. “Excellent. And so, dearly beloved, please help me in greeting this newly married couple. I wish this new couple nothing but the utmost happiness as they set out on this journey of marital bliss!”

The crowd around you two explode with joy and laughter and clapping as Wild is given permission to kiss you as his new partner for life.

You pull away first and cough a bit, trying to hide how emotional you really are. “Well dear husband, now what?”

“Now My Sweet, we party until dawn.” Wild winks before he pulls you in close, kissing your cheek. He smiles and tilts his head to whisper into your ear. “And then we can head home after the drinks have been dispersed and have some fun of our own, yeah?”

You snort and push him away, taking his hand before you’re both running down the aisle.

Now the party can begin and you both plan on living each day to the fullest by each other’s side. Wild’s has done a lot of crazy things in his youth- but this is by far the one he’ll be most proudest of for the rest of time.

Four

Four was torn about all the things that had to be done. There was catering, there was making your wedding gift, there was the suit he needed to tailor and there were commissions that he needed to do in the forge and he still needed to make the rings.

Although if Four had to be honest, his grandpa offered to make them and have that be his gift for the new couple but Four really wanted at least for you to wear to be something of his creation.

At least his grandpa understood that so Grandpa vowed to simply make another thing for the couple.

You were busy with decorations, your own attire, the guest list and organizing everything for the reception party after the ceremony. 

The only thing he was wasn’t worrying about was the construction on his house to make it more accommodating for the two of you and... potentially more, if he was allowed to have such wishful thinking.

The renovations were being taken care of by his dad and Zelda, so at least he left it into their capable hands and made himself forget about it.

With so many things that would need more hours than he has in a day, there was just one solution he could think of.

He split.

Now he knew that it would have its consequences. But if he could finish everything in a timely manner, he can merge before his wedding day and have enough time to recover so that he doesn’t spend one of the most important days of his life stumbling around like a drunk before the drinks were ever poured.

And he doesn’t want you to see him that way anyway.

This was his plan. Red would take to tailoring his suit, Blue would take care of the catering and the snacks and the cake, Vio would take care of precuring your wedding gift and Green would spend the days in the forge taking care of commissions, working on the rings in between projects.

There was one thing he couldn’t account for no matter how hard he tried. You.

You came into the forge with a basket and a small box in hand before you both froze, clearly not expecting the other to be here. You slowly hid the box behind your back, as if he hadn’t seen it the minute you walked in. “I could have sworn I just saw you by Tillie’s.”

Green cleared his throat and moved his project aside with a sheepish smile. “Uhhh...  You see, my pearl, there’s going to be a few more me’s around for the next week or so.”

You stand up straighter and raise an eyebrow. “...Green?”

“Yes?”

You blow a raspberry and curse under your breath. The action is so rare that it brings a smile to Green’s face. You looked away momentarily before you look back at him. “These are the consequences of your actions.”

“What?”

You take a step forward and place the box on the stool in the corner. You spin around with a serious face and point a finger at Green. “This is a part of your wedding gift. I have a whole thing planned out for this so you better not dare open it until the day of. Do you understand me?”

Green grins and nods, feeling giddy and lovesick and the need to kiss you senseless. But he’s dirty and you look pretty, and he’d hate to ruin your outfit just because he got greedy.

You nod back, sending him the universal message that you’re watching him before you skip on over and kiss his cheek. “I have a few more things to drop off then I’ll stay over at Aida’s. Don’t overwork yourself, ok Husband?”

Green giggles like a fool but he nods anyway, keeping the hot metal as far away from you as he can. “Am I the only one to get kisses?”

You snort and begin to walk away. “I think I already kissed Blue. But I’ll make my rounds before I finish my errands just so you’re not incomplete.”

Green hums and grins to himself, preparing to turn back to his work. “Alright. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do... And don’t so anything I would do.”

You laugh out loud before leaning backwards, just peaking your head beyond the doorframe. There’s a lovestruck smile on your face. “Link? I love you.”

“I love you too. Now go give Red and Vio their kisses.”

“Oh, I plan too.” 

Twilight

Twilight hasn’t been this nervous since he first asked to court you. But this is the next step, a permanent step.

He had planning to ask you this important for the past six months but there hasn’t been a moment where he felt like it would be appropriate to do so. 

Said moment comes when he least expects it.

You’re both on top of Epona, riding through the fields of Hyrule, traveling away from the villages for the time being, just wanting to be near each other. Alone.

You talk and laugh and play like children since no one is watching and it’s the most whole Twilight has ever felt. He thought he would never love again but you came into his life and gave everything he ever would have asked for and then some.

Come lunch time, you’re both tired but smiling widely and hungry. So you both sit down to eat.

Twilight can’t count the amount of time you’ve both done this. It’s not a daily occurrence but it’s common place and he takes a deep breath. Twilight feels a calm wash over him and look over at you. You didn’t hesitate to dig into the food you’ve both brought and have begun eating with the ferocity a kin to an animal.

Twilight can’t even think past it. You’ve got food stuck on the side of your face that you haven’t noticed and won’t be cleaning up any time soon.

With a quiet chuckle. Twilight licks his thumb and brushes it against your cheek, cleaning up the sauce as he wipes. It catches your attention and he brings his thumb back to his lips to clean it himself. You follow his fingers his your eyes and settle on his lips. He watches you as you watch him and winks.

You look away, coughing into your food. It seems you might have lost your apatite.

With a larger laugh Twilight takes out his own food but doesn’t eat it just yet, continue to watch you a little longer.

He can’t take it anymore. “Will you marry me?”

“What?” You drop your sandwich.

“Marry me. Please.” Twilight reaches into his pouch and takes out a betrothal necklace that he had carved by hand. “Please.”

You stare at it, taking it without any other prompting, studying it closely and intricately.

Twilight watches your inspection with baited breath. He spent weeks trying to get it right and had to throw out many attempts because there was always something wrong with it. That was probably attempt number 46, but he wasn’t counting.

You don’t say anything, just looking at the token and the ribbon, running your fingers all over it.

Twilight calls your name after an eternity of silence before you smile and put it on without any help from him. “I love it. I’m never taking this off.”

Something in Twilight sinks to his feet. Do you not know what it means?

“Um....” He looks at his hands and doesn’t know what to do from here. He didn’t actually plan any of this, nor did he mean to ask it so bluntly. What now?

“Link.”

He looks up, stunned by how close you got without him noticing. You kiss his lips and he can’t faintly taste the food from before.

“I’ll marry you. The betrothal necklace is lovely, I’m glad all your hard work paid off.”

....What?

His shock must have shown on his face because you start laughing. “You knew?”

“I found like 5 variations of this... I asked Ilia what it meant. She explained everything.” You smirk and go back to eating like nothing ever happened.

Twilight feels both elated and confused and like he’s falling through a glass mirror. “She told you? ...When?”

“Months ago.” You snort. “I was beginning to think you’d never ask.”

Twilights sits back and looks to the sky.

“Do you want blue or red flowers at the wedding?” You ask, taking another bite of your food, moving to take some cookies from the tin.

Twilight falls backwards, no longer hungry. This is weight off of his shoulders... and he’s apparently wasn’t as secretive as he thought... It does make it easier though, so he supposes he can’t complain.

“Link?”

“Blue, but I want to see you in red.”

“I can do that.”

Part 3

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #i wasn't exactly planning on focusing on green for four's part #but i started and it took over a mind of its own #i think it came out really nice though #twilight's was *short* and that was *not* intentional... my god he gave me trouble this time around #Wild's was a bit easier since i could base it off of the wedding scene from his game #he was the good child this time #his was easy

[mementomoriifics]

Red Hot - Kirishima x Reader (NSFW)

Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, alpha!Kiri, omega!reader, mating cycles, mating bites, some blood, unprotexted sex (don't do this kids), knotting

Wordcount: 2475

Author's Note: Kirishima is 18+ in this fic. it's also a rework of an old fic from a deleted account so if you recognize this, shhh no you don't

AO3 link

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Living with Kirishima Eijiro currently felt like the biggest mistake you’ve ever made in your life.

Not because he was a bad roommate or anything, no, far from it. Kirishima was nothing if not courteous. He always paid his share of the rent and utilities on time, he gave you your space, gave you heads up about when he would be out of town and such. In short, a model roommate.

You’d even been eager as hell to move in with the man you’d called your best friend ever since high school. (And your crush but that’s a part you were very much denying)

In your eagerness, however, you’d overlooked two key factors.

One, you were an omega, he an alpha

Two, you would inevitably go into heat. In your shared living space. While the alpha was just in the other room, smelling like leather and strawberries and driving you absolutely mad.

When the inevitable happened, you’d ignored the red flags at first. Like how Kirishima smelled even better than he usually did. Or how it felt like someone had been dicking around with the thermostat. Or why you had started to hoard everything soft and comfortable in the apartment.

And as luck would have it, it didn’t dawn on you that your heat had started until it was much too late.

You woke up one morning, your head feeling like it was stuffed full of cotton balls. The next thing you noticed was how absolutely warm you felt, kicking off the blankets to get some fresh air. You were confused, until you felt how wet you were. Your thighs were coated in slick and panic rose in you.

You cast a glance at your alarm clock and shot a prayer to whatever deity was listening that Kirishima had already left for his shift two hours ago. Your worrying wasn’t over, though, as you fumbled with your phone while you were still coherent and called out of work.

Your boss, a beta you got along with decently well, was thankfully extremely understanding about the situation. Not that it made the entire ordeal less embarrassing.

The rest of the day you seemed to float by solely on your instincts. With the fuzzy feeling in your head persisting, you made a nest for a mate you didn’t have, piling together whatever clothes, pillows and blankets you could find. You’d even swiped Kirishima’s Crimson Riot branded blanket, one of his most prized possessions.

That made you feel guilty, just a little.

Said blanket, however, proved to be the anchor still keeping you grounded as your heat worsened. You would bury your face into it, Kiri’s scent filling your senses. It made you feel safe, protected in a way. Just like how Kirishima had always been that for you, like a rock for you to lean on, pun intended. So selfless and strong and handsome…

You had long foregone any sort of modesty, your hand having found its home between your trembling thighs as you kept pressing your face into the blanket you stole.

You felt guilty about doing so, but your instincts overpowered your rational thinking.

Kirishima hadn’t asked for this, for you to defile his stuff, for you to masturbate to the thought of him, and you were eighty percent sure your friend was pining after Bakugo. He had to be, with the awe he carried in his voice whenever the blond was brought up in conversation.

There was no way in hell he’d mate with you, or mark you, and you felt something akin to heartbreak at the thought of it all.

But your heat riddled thoughts were quick to dismiss your hurt, wanting nothing more than for Kiri to come home, find you a dripping wet mess and fuck pups into you. For those sharp teeth to sink into your shoulder to mark you, for his hands to grip your hips so hard he’d leave behind bruises. For him to wreck you completely. Your feelings were something you could sort through later. The only thing relevant now was the burning need that made itself your master.

Your fantasies about Kirishima were running rampant as you fingered yourself, three fingers knuckle deep inside yourself as you pictured them being his instead. You needed relief, you needed-

“Eijirou!”

You all but screamed as your climax washed over you, making your whole body shake at the intensity of it. Your face was dug into the blanket, taking in every bit of Kirishima’s scent still lingering on it. You were drooling, feeling achingly empty as your body contracted to milk a cock that wasn’t there.

You were panting, coming down from your high as you looked towards the door briefly, a vague part of you thinking of getting some water. That thought was quickly flung out the window as to your absolute horror, Kirishima stood in your doorway, gym bag falling from his hand.

Tears of embarrassment welled up in your eyes as you pulled the nearest object - that fucking blanket - over yourself to hide. To safe at least a little of your modesty, though you were pretty sure Kirishima now got an eyeful of all of you.

“Kiri, I’m sorry. I didn’t- I’m-”

You were properly crying at this point, dread and embarrassment coiling inside of your head. Your roommate and best friend had just caught you fucking yourself to the idea of him. How long had he stood there? How much had he seen?

God, if the earth could swallow you whole, you’d be grateful.

A sudden calming wave of Kirishima’s scent filled the room, forcing your shaking body to relax. You heard him come closer, the bed dipping as he sat down on it.

You refused to leave your self-made cocoon of shame, not wanting to face Kirishima right now. But it seemed he had different plans.

He carefully peeled the blanket away, his face almost matching his long, spiky hair as he looked at you. There was a look of concern etched on his face that took you entirely off guard.

“Are… Are you okay?”

You blinked a few times, a little baffled by his reaction to the situation. You nodded, biting your bottom lip and ignoring a fresh wave of tears.

“You were… You’re in-”

“-heat, yeah.” you finished his sentence, looking away and wanting nothing more than to hide under the blanket again.

Kirishima cleared his throat, shifting in place. Sweat started to appear on his forehead, his scent more potent.  It was obvious you were getting to him. Or rather, your heat was doing things to him. But sweet, sweet Kiri was too much of a gentleman to act on it. The feeling of guilt got worse and the tears finally spilled.

“Can I… Help?” He asked, his voice soft. You cast a sideways glance at him and he seemed to be giving you puppy eyes you didn’t think alpha’s were capable of.

Your heart both melted and broke a little bit. Kirishima was too kind for his own good, too caring. You didn’t deserve-

“What about Bakugo?” You blurted out, Kirishima looking very confused.

“What about-? What do you mean?” He asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Aren’t you,” you swallowed, looking down and second guessing your assumptions. “Aren’t you… In love with-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence, the redhead laughing loudly. His shoulders shook with mirth as he doubled over, one hand on his stomach. Your face turned even redder, something you didn’t think possible at this point.

“What? No! Bakubro is bonded to Uraraka. He’s just my best buddy.” Kirishima snickered, still shaking with laughter. “I mean, sure he's kinda cute in a manly way but like,... He's taken, dude. Besides, I have a giant crush on you! I thought it was obvious.”

You froze, your heart skipping a beat. Your eyes widened as they darted to Kiri again, who’s face now definitely matched his hair, his smile fading.

“It wasn’t..?”

You shook your head, opening your mouth to say something but your heat thought otherwise. You crumpled forward, hand gripping Kiri’s bicep tightly as you moaned.

“Hey, easy!” Kirishima spoke, broad hands taking a hold of your upper arms to keep you steady. “I got you.”

The words were meant as reassuring but instead only fanned the flames that were in your lower stomach. It felt like you were burning up and it only got worse when you looked up at him.

Kiri’s pupils were dilated with desire, his mouth parted slightly as his breath came out in soft pants. His tongue darted out briefly to wet those kissable lips. You felt pinned in place by this stare and it made you feel so small and so fucking horny.

“Ei-chan. I need you, please.” You whined, using an old nickname you knew would get him. Eijirou growled, all but ripping his tank top off his body in his hurry to get undressed.

“Don’t worry, Omega. Your Alpha’s got you.”

You moaned loudly at the statement, back arching off the bed. Your hand found itself between your thighs again on instinct earning a soft "fuck." fron the alpha. Kirishima got up for a moment, ridding himself of his shorts and boxers, the seams of the garments protesting at his rough movements.

The scent radiating off of Eijirou grew more potent, more overwhelming. Your head swam with it and one instinctual thought came to the forefront of your lust-addled mind: He was going into a rut.

“Ei-chan. Please.” You moaned again, spreading your thighs for him in an attempt to coax him between them.

You eyed his length shamelessly as he stood there for a moment, taking in the sight of you. Your mouth started to water. It was bigger than you'd imagined, curving up deliciously. A black happy trail leading from Kiri's belly button down to the hard dick you wanted in you so damn bad it almost hurt.

The pro hero growled, having had enough of waiting and finally climbed between your legs. He pressed needy kissed against your neck and shoulders, taking in the smell of you.

“Patience. I’ll make you feel better soon.” He mumbled, one hand gripping your thigh and hiking it over his hip. You felt his length grind against you, gasping as the underside rubbed against your oversensitive clit.

“You made such a good nest for us.” He praised you, a warm feeling blooming in your chest. You wrapped your arms around Kirishima’s shoulders, digging your fingers in his waist length hair as he kept talking. “You will be such a good mom for our pups.”

“Give me- I need-” you whimpered, hands now gripping fistfuls of his hair, making the hero growl low in his chest.

“I will, Omega. I’ll give you exactly what you need.” He spoke, a hand reaching down so he could line his dick up with your entrance. With one, smooth thrust, he was knot deep in you, your head tipping back and exposing your neck in a quiet show of submission. Kirishima pressed kisses up and down the column of your throat, sharp teeth grazing the delicate skin there. He seemed to revel in the feeling of you around him but you wanted - no, needed - more.

You whimpered, moving your hips in an attempt to get him to fuck you. Kirishima, seemingly hellbent on drawing things out, nipped at your throat, a non verbal warning.

His senses seemed to return for a moment.

“Are you okay? Can I-?”

You nodded, wrapping your legs around Eijirou’s thick waist.

“Please, I’ve been ready since you caught me.” you half whined, half complained.

That was all the pro hero needed, dragging his length out of you at a painfully slow pace before thrusting back in so hard he almost knocked the wind out of you.

The pace he set was hard and a little rough, his hands and mouth gentle as he held you close, pressing kisses against any part of exposed skin he could reach.

“You smell so good, Omega. And you feel like heaven. So good. So… So… I want to-”

Kiri was lost for words, all the blood in his brain having vacated and moved south. His teeth gently scraped over the junction between your neck and shoulder, the place he could mark you. Where you wanted him to bite down badly.

He seemed to hesitate, his mouth parting and teeth nipping but never committing to a bite. It drove you to the brink of madness. You both wanted each other, right? Why was he hesitating?

After the so manieth nip of pointed teeth, one of your hands flew to the back of his head, trying to force him down. His pace slowed, fucking you gentle and deep. It made your head spin.

“Please, Ei-chan. Do it. Please.”

“Are you sure?” He asked. “Do you want me?”

“I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.” You spoke with more clarity than you had since you woke up.

Something in him seemed to snap and Kirishima pressed a quick kiss on the sensitive patch of skin before his lips parted, sharp teeth sinking into your skin. You cursed, holding onto Kirishima, your Alpha, for dear life.

Every fiber of your body seemed to sizzle with pleasure as the redhead pushed his knot into you. It took only a few, slow grinds of the alpha’s hips into yours for you to plummet over the edge, Eijirou groaning into the bite as he followed shortly after, knot swelling impossibly fat inside of you. The burning in your gut slowly faded, Kiri pulling back from your neck to look at you.

He looked borderline feral, hair a mess and blood staining his mouth. You smiled, gently smoothing down the unruly locks with shaky hands. He grinned at you.

“My Omega.” he said, smiling before he leaned down, nuzzling his nose against yours.

“My Alpha.” You echoed, leaning in and stealing a soft kiss for your… Boyfriend? Yes. Boyfriend. You liked how that sounded.

“’m tired.” You mumbled, hissing as Kirishima slowly withdrew his knot for you with an almost cartoonishly wet pop that made your face burn. The pro hero pressed a soft kiss on your forehead, gathering you up in his arms and sinking back into the nest. You felt wonderfully small and safe, cocooned in an embrace of muscle and red hair.

“Then rest up a bit. Then we’ll get cleaned up and we’ll get some food in you.” Eijirou said, smiling to himself as you snuggled into his pec.

“I want omurice.” You mumbled, already drifting off as fatigue set in. Kiri chuckled, pressing a kiss onto the crown of your head.

“Then I’ll make you omurice. Anything for my Omega.”

You grinned like an idiot as you quietly drifted off, safe in the arms of your Alpha.

#kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #mha imagine #mha x reader #bnha imagine #bnha x reader #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #not sfw #morii's fics #omegaverse #abo fic #whoop there it is

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Broken trust

Summary: Finding out the truth about the Darkling, Y/N recounts the way they met only to realize she must say goodbye.

Warnings: angst

Series Masterlist

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Loving him felt like the most exquisite form of self destruction. She should have known sooner that he would be the source of the greatest pain she had ever known. Perhaps that's the problem, she never loathed the darkest parts of her that felt drawn to him from the first moment he had gazed upon her.

She never trusted anyone, not even her best friend until years have passed. She barely trusted herself for that matter. Trust didn't come easy for her, neither did love, but Y/N trusted Aleksander from the start, she didn't even question him and that is why it hurt so much, why it tore into her and ripped her to shreds.

She looked at him through a tear-clouded blur, her chest aching as her heart constricted inside with the iron fist of betrayal squeezing it tightly.

"How could you have lied?" She pauses, placing a hand on her chest, "To me?"

His jaw clenches, his eyes widening ever so slightly, "Would you have stayed?"

His voice is even, a calm in her raging storm and she can't help but hate him for it. While she is falling apart, he seems perfectly fine.

Her bottom lip quivers as her hands form fists, but when she speaks, she does so through gritted teeth, "When have I ever given you cause to question that?"

Aleksander steps closer, but Y/N is quick to take one back. His lips part, the way she can't even stand his presence inflicted hurt he didn't realize he was still capable of feeling.

"Do you remember when we met?" She asks, unsure why she's reminiscing now.

Walking into a Grisha tent wasn't quite a bright idea on Y/N's behalf, but sometimes you realize there are people worth risking your life for, and for Y/N, her best friend Mal was that person.

She had accepted a wager that would guarantee no one would pick on Mal, all she had to do was retrieve some grapes from a Grisha tent and this particular one seemed to be the only one unguarded.

She looked around at the dark colors inside with a frown etched in her face. She couldn't understand who'd enjoy living in such darkness. Isn't the world dark enough as it is?

Shaking her head, she looks to the table and upon the table she find the grapes that meant Mal would be safer. Wasting no time, her hand clutched the bowl and yet as she took it in her hand, a voice had startled her.

"What exactly do you think you're doing?"

Nodding, Aleksander pursed his lips. His eyes are dark, two pools of infinite darkness she had liked upon her before. She wasn't quite sure if she enjoyed his attention anymore.

"You were in my tent." He raised an eyebrow, "Uninvited.",

Gasping, Y/N turned around, her hands remaining behind her with the grapes safely hidden.

"I am sorry, I got lost." She came closer, her eyes meeting the intimidating black ones of the man much taller than her, much more powerful than she could ever be.

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes trailing her from head to toe, studying her as she realized he didn't believe her.

"I was just transferred back after a mission, I didn't realize the tents have been moved around. Mine used to be here", she managed a nervous smile, walking around him and toward the exit in hope of him letting her go.

"And yet you didn't leave once you realized it was not yours anymore", he spoke, his gaze following every step she takes. He steps in her way, blocking her from leaving. He's close, close enough for her to feel the faint smell of alcohol on his breath.

Swallowing thickly, she keeps staring at him as if he had chained her eyes to his, as if he had enchanted her. She doesn't even feel as his right arm moves around her, not until his hand plucks a single grape from the bowl, bringing it to his lips.

"Don't they feed you over in the First army?"

A faint smile forms on Aleksander's lips, just enough for the corners of his mouth to move, to capture her attention.

"You were stealing from me", he notes and she holds her breath as her heart, as treacherous as it is, jumps at the nearly lighthearted chuckle escaping him.

"And you stopped me from leaving", she adds, a sigh passing her lips.

"I should go" , Y/N blurts out, passing by the unknown Grisha as swiftly as possible. Just as she's about to reach the exit, to see the light of the day, cold, long fingers wrap around her left wrist, effectively pulling her back to face the Grisha.

A gasp escapes her once her eyes meet the dark shadows around the Grisha, more so when a light explodes around them. A warmth like she had never felt before spreads inside her, beams around her and the Grisha whose eyes are wide in shock, awestruck just as much as she is. The light encases them, her body shaking with the magnitude of their reality, yet she cannot comprehend where the light is coming from.

Breaking away from his eyes, she looks to his hand wrapped around her wrist, securely holding onto her. The glow of her skin, a thousand suns emerging from every inch of her makes her breathless. Her knees buckle and still, instead of the fall, she feels an arm around her, pulling her up and closer, much closer to the Grisha she had just met.

The shock of his arm around her dims the light, the darkness blinding her temporarily.

Only then does she hear the excited murmuring and whispers around her, only then does she look back at the Grisha holding her, keeping her from falling to her knees.

"Wh-what just happened?" She breathes out, her eyes flickering from his relentless gaze to his lips as they form a smile.

"You are a Sun summoner."

Leaning back on the table, Aleksander crosses his arms. "I had no intention on hurting you when I did. Your light must have felt it or it wouldn't have responded to me."

Scoffing, Y/N averts her gaze, "It was naïve." Locking her eyes on him once more, she adds, "And so was I."

"If I had told you, would you not think I'm evil from the start? Would you not have hated me?" Aleksander's eyebrows furrow, a single strand of hair falling to his forehead and it took everything in Y/N not to laugh. His disheveled look, if she could call it that, is still a thousand times more perfect than any other man.

"You could have trusted me." Tucking her hair behind her right ear, Y/N sighs heavily. "I trusted you. Now we will never know."

Unnerved, Aleksander comes before her in just a few strides, his hands cupping her face as she holds her breath, afraid of letting him know she still cares for him. It's an advantage she refuses to hand him.

"I don't want to lose you, Y/N. You're all I have", his voice is quiet, almost vulnerable, something she had only sensed in him once before and that was when he spoke of the burdens of his legacy. That was a lie, so was this not a lie as well?

She placed her hands over his, letting them linger momentarily before pulling them down, away from her with all her strength.

"I am not yours to lose!" She walks past him, just as she had done on that fateful day they met, and his hand catches her wrist just the same, pulling her back into his chest.

She pushes against him, trying to get away but his hold on her is stronger, unmoving like a force of nature.

"You may not be mine, but I am yours. There is no one like us in this world, Y/N", Aleksander's voice is softer, more tender than his embrace feels.

Shaking her head, Y/N croaks, "Don't make me hurt you."

"Hurt me?" His worry and pleas are replaced by arrogance, a smirk appearing on his lips. He could never imagine her to be powerful enough to harm him physically, but her leaving? That would break him.

Staying with him would undo her, Y/N knows that. She's tearing to pieces and not at the seams, it's much harder to heal when you break in an uneven patter where you can't stitch yourself up and move on. No...Aleksander Kirigan will be a gaping wound for a long time and then a nasty scar to serve as a reminded why she shouldn't trust easily, or anyone but herself.

"You once told me I would be your equal", she raised her chin defiantly, the smirk on her lips rivaling his. "You were right."

She raises her hand to his face swiftly, a light emerging from her palm in such bright intensity she could feel her skin burning with it.

It didn't last long, for her it felt like a few seconds, but his pained scream would remain in her head like an echo for a long time to come.

For Aleksander the pain was momentary, he healed rather fast. But when his vision cleared and she wasn't by his side, that pain would last a lifetime, fueling his darkness as he sets out to find her - the only light that can chase away the shadows he invited on the day the fold was created.

Y/N once believed he was worth loving, that he could be saved. Aleksander vowed to make sure she does again.

PART 2

#shadow and bone #the darkling #the darkling x reader #aleksander kirigan #aleksander x reader #general kirigan #kirigan x reader #the darkling fanfiction

[chateautae]

saudade | kth. (m)

saudade ; “a deep emotional state of nostalgic or profound melancholic longing for an absent something/someone that one cares for and/or loves.”

➵ summary : a demanding idol lifestyle was something taehyung and yourself were all too familiar with. it wasn’t so hard when considering your unconditional love for one another, but lately, taehyung wasn’t the same anymore; and you decide it's time to find out why.

➵ pairing : idol!taehyung x choreographer!reader

➵ genre : angst, smut, fluff (the holy trinity), idol!au, established relationship!au

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 16k

➵ warnings : sexual content, swearing, dom + sub dynamics, dom!tae, fingering, oral (f. receiving), lots of dirty talk, t e a s i n g because let’s face it this is tae, big dick!tae, cock sliding, marking, restraint (with his own hands), unprotected sex (wrap it up peeps), rough sex, mushy i miss you sex, lots of feels, tae undresses reader (it’s hot i promise), praising, name kink, slight body worshipping, slight brat-handling, forced orgasm, creampie, one spank, tiny impreg kink, aftercare

➵ a/n : wow, my first fic on tumblr!! i’m beyond excited to finally be sharing my stories and writing, hopefully i can let you escape into a whole new world and enjoy my works! comments and feedback are always appreciated <3

2:27AM. 

He still wasn't home. 

Texts on delivered, calls unanswered, radio silence on all social media. 

And it wasn’t just tonight, it was every night. 

Everyday. 

And it’s been a month. A long, grueling month.

A month where he only acknowledged your presence just once and called it a day. A month where he returned so late and left early enough the following morning you didn't see him. Somedays, he never even came home at all. You made suggestions to hang out together, and he declined them on the premise of 'too busy'. 

It hurt beyond comprehension. 

It's like he wasn't even there.

But you knew he was. 

He was the one who moved your sleeping body from the couch to your shared bed every night, a sweet gesture of his that gave you hope maybe everything wasn't so bad. Sometimes, though, you woke up on the same couch the next morning, knowing he most likely stayed the night elsewhere. 

You tried to remain indifferent to the treatment, figuring he was just stressed with his tightly-packed schedule that didn't always include you. 

But it was beginning to feel heart-breaking, disappointing, but most of all, so lonely. It was starting to feel like he was slipping away from you, like you were losing him, relationship tearing at the seams. It left you nothing but heartbroken and afraid. Afraid of where your relationship had gone, afraid of whatever happened to the never-ending love you two shared. You both harboured an array of feelings for one another that infinitely tethered you two together, kept you madly in love and nearly impossible to separate.  

So where was that now? How could it have all changed within the span of a month? 

You’ve survived comebacks with him before and he never entertained this kind of behaviour. Maybe you had a fight or two about someone cancelling on a plan or working too hard but nothing as excruciating as this. 

Your relationship began to feel empty, so meaningless. And the more he was distant, the stronger the pain grew and your love seemed to be losing its vitality.

Why would he do this? What's gotten into him? Did I do something wrong? Why doesn't he care anymore? you asked yourself repeatedly for weeks.

You’d think work was the issue, where your relationship had to be purposefully low-profile and subdued. But ever since the inception of your relationship, Taehyung never found any of that difficult. If anything, he loved it the most. You could easily leave it to the 'forbidden’ or 'looked down upon' stigma of you two dating to make everything 100x hotter, more exciting, and fuck, did you and especially Taehyung enjoy fiddling around with the concept as if you were some modern-day remake of Romeo and Juliet. 

The sneaking around, the thrill of moments only you two shared, the promises you kept, the secret kissing or displays of affection, your romantic status like classified information some were only privy to. 

But you didn't have to worry about suddenly losing your 'Romeo', though, because Taehyung wasn't as stupid as he was (no offence, Shakespeare). 

Taehyung remained business-like whenever he needed to be and tended to his work accordingly. He was always cautious of the consequences your relationship warranted, and worked hard to prove your love was worth it despite his chaotic life and the challenges everyone warned you of. 

Taehyung has also always been mischievous, a little rebellious, someone who doesn't always like following whatever he's told; so this relationship was just his cup of tea, making it hard to believe he would grow tired of it considering his well-precedented admiration. 

But now, you weren’t so sure. 

Now he seemed practically devoid of the fact that you two were even dating. He didn’t naturally gravitate towards you anymore like before, instead increasingly gravitating away from you. He didn't linger around to catch a moment with you anymore, didn't come looking for you, didn't spark conversation whether it was important or not, even stopped looking at you as a whole. It seemed like being in your presence was something he avoided rather than just didn't do, like he wanted to fill his time elsewhere and sometimes… you swore it felt intentional. 

As if he didn't want to be around you. 

You sought communicating with him about everything, pinning all the blame on his mountain-high stress and how busy he was thinking you could help ease his mind; but he stayed firm on the notion he was just fine. You obviously knew something was up and wanted to confront him, but you feared pestering or nagging him, never wishing to add to his stress.

And you get that, you really do. He has this demanding, grandiose life that you should understand is incredibly stressful and time-consuming. But you're going to be honest... you fucking missed Kim Taehyung. A lot. 

Granted, you saw him at work, even more so now with a comeback dawning on the group, but it wasn’t the same. 

You missed being home with him. You missed the way his big arms cuddled you when you watched a movie together, you missed 'attempting' to cook dinner with him, you missed your snuggly mornings where he wouldn’t let you go until he laid at least a hundred kisses on you. You missed him tickling you when you least expected it, randomly playing any track of jazz or slow music, swaying you until he made you giggle and you missed him never forgetting to kiss your forehead whenever he parted from you, even if he had to be discreet where work was concerned. 

The cute, couply things you missed, sure. But the one thing that consistently clouded your mind and bothered you nearly every second of everyday... 

Sex. 

That active as hell sex life you two had, you missed every damn detail about it and your body desperately yearned for its revival.

After a month's dryspell, you craved Taehyung so badly it wasn’t funny anymore. From all the times he eyed you suggestively, to the way his large, touchy hands ended up all over you, to the way he eventually laid you down, lost himself in his torturous but pleasurable teasing, maybe even tying you up or handcuffing you in the process, getting you dripping wet before he eventually fucked you just right simply out of his own desire.

Nope. 

You can't do this, it only made you hornier than you already were and fuck, did anything you try on yourself not work at all. You were feeling greedy. Going from doing it nearly three times a week during quarantine lockdown with him to suddenly having gone a month sex-free left you losing your mind. 

There used to be so much fire, so much love, so much passion between you two. It was intoxicating, so ardent that you could feel yourselves aching for each other in your bones.  But now, all of that felt either non-existent or buried so deep underground you couldn't feel much of anything. And of course, the absence of sex and the cute stuff collectively sucked, sure. But what scared you the most were your own thoughts. 

What if he's finally tired of you? What if he wants to focus on his career? What if he's found someone new, someone that isn’t staff, someone much easier and less burdensome than you..

You stopped. 

A dark web of assumptions swarmed your head, all seeming completely plausible and welcoming a dull, daunting sadness to loom over you. Your chest constricted at the thought of your fickle importance to him, wincing at the possibility it could be true. You sat in silence in your lonely home, leaving you to ponder when the apartment began to feel so forlorn in the first place.

The photographs he took framed the walls, the old albums he owned littered your shelves and even one of the many jackets he owned was currently sprawled across your couch. You noticed the way his presence was so deeply rooted in the home, yet he felt as distant as ever. 

You settled in on your couch, cradling his jacket at the thought of how much longer this would continue, forcing yourself to sleep in hopes of ridding the feeling of emptiness from your chest.

But you couldn't.

Your mind drowned struggling to sleep, giving up on shut-eye as a whole until eventually you began swimming, swimming through your emotions and one particular thought stood out to you; this wasn't fucking fair. 

It just wasn't, none of this was. You can't let him continue this, can't remain on the fence about doing something and you certainly cannot just let this go. It was your duty as one of the active partners in this relationship to fight for its life, so that's exactly what you were going to do—with one conclusion you were convinced would work. 

You should give him a taste of his own medicine. 

You decided to be upset, ignore him and see how he reacts. Respond with the same curt responses, not give him the time of day, 'naturally' gravitate away from him. Hell, you could start tomorrow by waking up earlier than him and seeing how he responds to your empty side of bed for once. 

That's if he even comes home tonight. 

This seemed like the only sure-fire method of gaining his attention. Maybe if you acted unreasonably, far from how you usually do he would finally pay you any mind, have to approach and confront you. You’d always let him off the hook on the account of him being an idol, but now he’s taken it too far. 

Your mind grew hazy somewhere in between thinking and shuffling on the couch, only the sight of a vacant apartment and the scent of his cologne lulling you to sleep. 

You groaned as your eyes fluttered open, the reality of last night resurfacing as you remembered the impromptu plan for today, cursing how early you had to wake up to avoid him. 

You lazily rubbed at your eyes as they landed on the clock on your bedside table, suddenly registering you were in a different room altogether. It was then you felt the softness of your pillow, the silk of your sheets, the familiarity of your room's walls coming into view—all of it blissful until you froze at the feeling of weight around your waist, a quick glance confirming it was an arm. It was then you felt your neck being fanned by hot breaths, your back flush against someone's bare chest and you felt your heart speed up. 

Is he...?

Thinking you're getting ahead of yourself, you're proven just right when you turn around to a face you knew all too well. 

Taehyung's soft figure rose and fell as he slept soundlessly next to you. 

You instantly softened, in a bit of shock because he was right there, angelic as ever as he breathed calmly and cuddled your smaller figure into him.

He still held you to fall asleep, huh?

A smile found your face at the thought as you admired the details of his; thick, pretty lashes pressed against the skin underneath his eyes, his large, veiny hand tucked under his cheek as the other draped you, his pink, pillowy lips sealed together in an adorable pout. You shifted onto your side and nuzzled closer into him, listening to his rhythmic breathing and watching his broad chest rise and fall. You melted into his presence, soaking in all the glory that was Kim Taehyung. 

You then remembered he was always here, he did give you his personal time; you just didn't see him. You knew he moved you at night, tucked you in, maybe kissed you goodnight. Maybe he had moments where he felt terrible for being away, whispered sweet apologies and promises into your ear.

But then again, you wouldn’t know, you didn't spend enough time together for you to know. 

A sudden movement of his arm and that eerie thought snapped you back into reality, instantly scolding yourself for getting distracted by him. You had to focus on how you felt, hone in your emotions and refrain from doting on your precious boyfriend. 

You wouldn't be able to ignore him later if you didn't start now.

You were forced to leave his warmth, having to ready yourself for today's rehearsals and resolving numerous things for however long this would continue; you needed Taehyung to feel what you've been feeling all this time, needed him to feel the absence of your presence just as you had felt his. 

And you'll be damned if you were going to be easy about it. 

A couple hours had passed as you stretched, yawning after revising a rehearsal video, the murmurs of staff keeping you awake. Stretching for what felt like the millionth time, you slightly jumped at the sound of the studio doors opening just before the scheduled time. You watched it mindfully, your heart speeding up at the thought of suddenly seeing Taehyung so soon. 

Don’t let it be him first, don’t let it be him first, don’t let it be him first. 

You calmed down once your eyes set on 5 of the members ambling in, watching them greet people until you eventually spotted Jimin and Taehyung trailing behind, thankfully too occupied with giggling to see you. 

You rejoiced in the lack of eye contact until you decided to sneak a peek at Taehyung, mortified when you found his eyes suddenly locking with yours. The shock made you turn away instantly, swallowing what felt like your heart down your throat. 

Your ears were welcomed to the boys making conversation, playfully teasing the 95's for apparently being late and in the midst you managed to shyly greet everyone... except Taehyung.  

And this didn't go unnoticed by him, who already felt worried since he woke up to your cold, unoccupied side of the bed this morning. Taehyung instantly found it off-putting, since he usually knew your schedule and left him wondering what reason you had to disappear without informing him. 

Curiosity flooded him as the thought continued to bug him, what did she have to do so early in the morning? His inquiries turned into actions when he began passing through the boys, immediately stepping towards you. 

"Morning, Y/N. Everything alright?" Taehyung innocently reached for your shoulder once he settled beside you. You almost let him do it, making you reminiscent of when he actually gave a shit about you, but you remembered your little scheme and swiftly pulled away.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Taehyung immediately froze up, disbelief riddling his handsome features. You've never once rejected his touch so blatantly. 

You would never do that, he thought.

Taehyung paused his hand at the point he would have touched you, tugging at his bottom lip uncomfortably before rubbing the back of his neck. You internally winced at the hurt you could see on his face through the studio mirrors, forcing yourself to stand your ground as he feebly spoke again.

"You don't seem fine. Why did you wake up so early this morning? You didn't tell me about it..." He scratched his neck awkwardly, a hint of a pout in his tone.

"I don't know, I just couldn't sleep. I don't need to tell you my every move, Taehyung." You responded curtly.

"I know..but you could've told me, Jagiya. We could've spent the morning together in the apartment if you were up so early." Taehyung looked at you in protest, lowering his voice so others couldn't hear. 

The use of your pet name after a long time instantly ticked you off, even more so his proposal, he could say all that cute shit but couldn't act upon it? 

Irritation nestled its way under your skin, causing you to whisper dryly, “Just get to stretching, Taehyung, we have a lot to go over today.”

His jaw clenched as he swallowed, a troubled expression painting his face. He managed a small 'okay' before he unwillingly stepped away.

Taehyung was beyond confused; something was wrong, seriously wrong. It wasn't just your harsh tone or icy aura, but even in the way you addressed him so plainly as Taehyung. 

He didn't understand, he's seen you mad or annoyed before, but nothing along these lines and he couldn’t piece together the reason for your attitude. It seemed like nothing would ameliorate your mood either, leaving Taehyung cursing whatever evil thing was making you so upset. 

Despite experiencing that bitter demeanour, however, Taehyung was forced to watch you act friendly with everyone else during practice.. except him. 

And what was even worse, he watched you do so for the rest of the week. You had gone a whole week with your (what he found to be) ridiculous behaviour, everything about you so different with him he was left consumed with frustration. 

He watched as you continued to treat everyone else the same, getting a little too close to them than he liked. It was something he noticed in the weeks previous to this, but now silently pissed him off even more because this time you decided to purposefully exclude him; and he hated it. You barely spoke or tended to him over the course of the week, Taehyung's envy blooming in his chest at the way you acted so close to everyone yet treated him, your boyfriend, like a stranger. 

He didn't understand why he was the only one, you talked to Jimin about what he did on his days off, pretended to box with Jungkook, danced around with Yoongi and Hoseok and goofed around with Jin and Namjoon. Hell, he even found you socializing with other staff and dancers more than usual. 

Taehyung couldn't fucking stand it, what in the world was wrong with you? Not only did he figure something was clearly wrong, but that he clearly did something wrong. 

He was beyond confused, annoyed, but more so worried as to what was fuelling your actions. Taehyung didn't know what he did, and he couldn't manage not knowing anymore, most of all despising the feeling that he was suddenly losing you. 

He quickly resolved after a gruesome week he wasn't letting you go after rehearsals tonight, giving a fat fuck you to his evening plans and trading them in for confronting you. 

Your eyes stung from a week’s worth of waking up at the ass crack of dawn to avoid Taehyung, rubbing your eyes as you slung your purse over your shoulder to end another day at the studio. Thinking you were alone, you swiveled around to an empty room and surprisingly spotted Taehyung.

You jumped a little, not expecting him to still be here when you knew he had dinner plans tonight. 

Did he cancel them? 

Suddenly realizing this is the first time in over a month you’ve been in a room with him, alone, and especially after the week you've spent purposefully dodging him, anxiety flooded your chest. 

Your eyes flittered around, nibbling on your lip awkwardly as you pretended he wasn't there. You eventually met his eyes and he returned your hesitant gaze with an intense one, nearly peering into your very soul. He remained unbothered with his hands tucked into his pockets, and now that you were finally viewing him, couldn't help but swoon over his look for the day. 

He really chose to wear that damn grey hoodie with matching grey sweatpants that makes you weak, hair styled in the messy curls he's been sporting ever since his perm and wearing that one silver hoop earring you found incredibly hot. 

He looked like a fluffy puppy but also a full-course meal crafted by God himself. 

This isn't fucking fair at all. 

He noticed you staring at him and his head cocked to the side, studying you with a hint of a smirk. He raised an eyebrow tauntingly, like he wouldn't let you go after trapping you in what felt like shackles around your ankles. You could only swallow dryly, averting your eyes and reminding yourself you had to get out of his trance

His power over you was immense, especially when he flipped his curly fringe from his eyes, examining you with such a fiere, unreadable expression you shifted nervously on your feet. 

How is he so dominant when he's standing a whole 15 fucking feet away from you?

You watched a self-satisfying grin play onto Taehyung’s lips, loving the way you squirmed under his undivided attention until he suddenly began stepping in your direction, sheer panic overtaking you. You weren't ready, you didn't really think of the result of this plan and now that it's worked, you knew you were in trouble. 

Taehyung is unpredictable as hell, you never knew what was running through his mind and which idea he’d pick to entertain. You malfunctioned at the thought and your flight response kicked in, making you step towards the door at light speed. 

"I..uh.. I have to go." You stuttered and purposely ducked around him. You felt relieved once you passed his deep stare, until you felt his slender fingers suddenly grapple onto your wrist. 

Shit. 

"You're not going anywhere." His low voice reverberated in the room, sending currents through your body. You refused to look at him, knowing it would make you squeal, but you stabilized your voice to speak. 

"I..", you swallowed, "don't think it's your place to say." 

You felt his hold on your wrist tighten, knowing that pissed him off. 

A small moment of silence passed and you thought he'd given up, relaxing until he suddenly yanked you towards him, your smaller figure crashing into his chest. He held you against his tall body as his eyes locked with your timid ones, forcing the confrontation of your obvious issue with him. 

You took a stubborn step back instead of giving in, arms crossed. Taehyung had enough of you evading his look and gently lifted your chin with his index finger.

"My place? It's been a fucking week and you haven't even looked at me, Y/N. What is your problem?" He emphasized with annoyance, but his soft eyes gave away he was just desperate for an answer. 

"Nothing's wrong, Taehyung, I'm just tired."

"Oh really? Tired? Y/N, don't think I didn't notice you ignore me for an entire week. I thought something was wrong in general but clearly you have a problem with me and only me. What's your deal?" He vented in frustration, tone utterly displeased.

You only scoffed disbelievingly, looking towards the ground in search of something to hold back your piled-high emotions. 

Taehyung grew tired of your silence and sighed with dejection. He cupped your cheeks and looked at you seriously, "Look at me, bubs, what's so wrong? Did I do something?" the newfound frailty in his voice left you sucking in a breath of guilt. 

You really wanted to voice how you felt, teetering on the possibility until you suddenly became aware you'd be requesting demands from one of the busiest people on Earth.

 Your tongue habitually tied itself. 

"It's just.. It's not important, Taehyung. Let me go." You abruptly turned out of his hold, locking your jaw tightly. 

"Why in God's name would I let you go? Something's wrong, Jagiya, and that's always going to be important to me." Taehyung squeezed your arms affectionately, suddenly warming you to him. 

You could instantly feel your emotions conflicting inside, flooding your chest with regret yet frustration so heavy you needed air. Your eyes were beginning to reveal your vulnerability, trying to blink away threatening tears. 

"Taehyung, just let me go, it's absolutely nothing." Your voice sounded shakily unconvincing and yet, you were tugging yourself away as if he would believe you. 

"It's not nothing, I can clearly see something wrong. Why won't you just tell me?" 

"Because I don't want to tell you, Taehyung. It's really just nothing." 

"You keep saying it's nothing but I can see it in your eyes, you're upset, Jagiya. I know you." Taehyung spoke matter-of-factly, his grip and tone growing desperate.

"I'm not upset, I'm just exhausted." 

"Exhuasted..” Taehyung trailed, licking his lips. “Of course, because now you're waking up earlier than you usually do in the morning and on top of that without even fucking telling me why." His tone grew irritated as he scoffed, looking away from you.

You instantly grew annoyed. 

"And I told you I don't need to tell you my every move, Kim. Why are you even so pissed about it?” 

"Did you just.. family name me?" Taehyung narrowed his eyes

"So what if I did?" You deadpanned. 

Taehyung let out a deep sigh. 

"I’m pissed cause I got worried, okay? Not everyone has a situation like ours where anyone could do shit to you because of me, so I like knowing where you are." Taehyung stressed with a serious tone. "And listen, I’m not letting you go until you tell me what's wrong. I'm fucking serious, Jagi, you did not just ignore me all week only to tell me nothing's wrong." 

"And I'm not gonna say anything. I'm fucking serious, Taehyung." You mimicked him, hoping he'd let you go. 

Taehyung dragged his tongue along the inside of his cheek and chuckled dryly, your impossibility unbelievable to him. He pursed his lips before slowly releasing you, his hands up in mock surrender. 

"Fine, you can leave then." 

You took his words without a second thought and immediately turned for the door. You had just cracked it open before Taehyung’s hand suddenly smacked it shut from behind, making you turn around startled. 

He abruptly pinned you against the door with the weight of his body, locking you in with both arms. He leveled himself to your height and peered directly into your eyes.

"And I told you, I'm not letting you go, Ms. Y/L/N." Taehyung now mimicked you as you felt him dominate you with a degree of alpha-male that left you entranced and unable to move. He drew himself closer to your face, so close that he granted no room for you to breathe. You could only stand in defeat, your doe eyes wide as you flashed them to his lips and back to his eyes. 

Taehyung couldn't resist how much he wanted you anymore.

"I always forget how challenging you can be." He spoke in his deepest, sultriest tone, that damn bass paired with his dancing eyes causing you to bite your lip. 

Taehyung watched you do so and grew hot, finding you irresistible when you were acting impossible yet became putty in his hands. You balled your hands into fists against his chest as he dangerously inched towards your neck, his proximity shooting arousal through your blood. 

His scent was intoxicating, resurfacing the numerous thoughts you had of him in his absence. He manifested butterflies in your chest,  knowing you had to resist him yet found yourself giving in.

He finally ducked into your neck, anticipating the connection of his lips until he only ghosted your skin. He breathed against you purposefully to elicit a reaction, gifted his desire when he felt your body lean into him and breath hitch. 

You hated that you wanted him to kiss you already. You craved him so desperately, so in need of his touch that just the feeling of his body pushing you against the door was enough to make you press your thighs together. 

And little did you know, a month and a week without you left Taehyung dying to devour you. 

As if noticing you getting impatient, he pulled you towards him by your waist and his lips finally crashed onto your neck, a silent groan escaping you as his plush lips began mouthing sensually. You let out a breathy moan but gathered the courage to speak up, knowing full well the high creeping up on you and you needed to get back at him.

"Maybe if you were home more often you'd remember." 

A small laugh escaped Taehyung, "So that's what this is about?" The sudden puff of his breath made you want to jump him. He deliberately pushed his hips into yours, shooting jolts throughout your core once you felt the familiar prodding of something hard. He began sliding one of his hands up and down your waist, almost in an effort to distract you. 

"Of course it is, Tae. You're never fucking home." You spoke with vexation, growing both sexually and emotionally frustrated over the way he was pressing you up against the door and inviting a stirring feeling to constrict your insides. He brought his thigh in between your legs, slightly grinding against you as he added pressure to your heat and sucked your sweet spot.

"I'm never fucking home, huh? Who do you think moves you from the couch to our bed? Makes sure you're comfortable and tucks you in? Kisses you goodnight?" He asked rhetorically, letting his teeth bite at your supple flesh and embellish you with his favourite purple marks.

"T-that's not the point, Taehyung. I'm not awake. H-how does that count as you being home?" You retaliated as best you could, snaking your hands to grab the nape of his neck, fingers trailing into the curly ends of his hair. He groaned so audibly that you grew shamelessly hornier.

"Because I do come home. I sleep next to you in our bed, even cuddle you." He began sucking underneath your jaw, wrapping his arm around your torso to press you flush against him. He kissed down your throat trying to bite and leave more hickies, pushing you back for support.

"I-I just told you, that doesn't count, Tae. You... come home when I'm asleep and leave before I wake up. I-I never see you." You tried to maintain your composure, hands hugging his head close to you. 

"But we already see each other here, don't we? You see me at practice, meetings, in the building... no?" He suddenly came off your neck and his hand flanked to your chin, advancing for a kiss. But immediate annoyance flooded you upon registering his words, pulling your face back. 

"Are you kidding me? You count that as seeing each other? All we do is rehearse choreography and work together. How is that 'seeing' each other?" You asked, baffled at his audacity. 

"Because we're at least together, aren't we? Isn't that all that matters?" Taehyung looked at you as if you were the ridiculous one, ignoring your concerns and trying to kiss you again. You immediately removed yourself from him and pushed him back, his hands letting you go.

"That's not the issue, Tae. The issue is that you're really busy and I get that, but we literally haven't done anything together in the last month. And the reason that sounds insane to me is because we work and live together, you'd expect that somewhere in that time we would’ve done something... but we haven't." You emphasized as you pled your case. 

"Princess, we've been over this. I told you at the beginning of our comeback that our time together was gonna be limited. I remember you agreeing to that and understanding. Why is this coming up now?" 

"So going an entire month neglecting your ‘princess' is what you meant? Your 'limited' seems more like 'nothing at all'.” You air quoted and crossed your arms, becoming annoyed with his ambiguity and sudden use of another pet name. 

"Okay, that's not what I'm saying. All I'm saying is that comeback season is busy, it's one thing after another and I can't always keep up with everything. There’s a lot going on; our album, company business, don’t get me started on the mountain of work with promotions, concerts, filming and photoshoots. I'm even making an entire fucking mixtape. I’m trying my damn best here." Taehyung vouched for himself, holding his hands up to defend against your accusations.

"And I'm not saying you don't try, I understand that you're busy but what I’m saying is I don't even feel important to you anymore, let alone a priority. We barely interact, you never do anything with me or talk to me, but for everyone else you’ve got all the effort in the world to spare. I get that you're an idol, I always see you working hard and I'm proud of that. But you somehow make time for everything else.. why can't you just make some time for me?" You felt like you sounded selfish, almost faltering from revealing anymore but you felt so neglected it had to be said. 

"Wh-what about you? Oh my God, Jagiya.. you're such a high priority to me. Trust me, you really don’t know what I'd do for us and you should know I’d damn well do or sacrifice anything. It may seem like I'm not right now but I promise it's not like that. You'll always be important to me, how could you think otherwise?" Taehyung was perplexed by your sudden outburst, never having known of these feelings before. He reached his hands out to you but you abruptly denied him, snapping at the question.

“Then what’s it ‘like’, exactly? Because it seems very much to me like you want nothing to do with our relationship.” 

“No, that’s-that’s not it at all. Don’t worry about this, okay bubs? Overthinking this won’t do you any good, just trust me.” 

“Trust you? You're not even answering my damn question, Taehyung, what is it then? Why aren’t you telling me? Are you fucking hiding something?” You began speculating, his repeated vagueness irking you.

“Jagi, no, just listen to me. Know that I mean it when I say you’re important to me, you’re the love of my life and you'll always be a priority. Why are you thinking like this? Where is all this coming from?” Taehyung asked incredulously, getting on your very last nerve. 

"I don't fucking know, Taehyung, maybe because you ignore me for hours on end? Maybe because you leave me every morning without considering just waking up together? I know we can't make it obvious we live together, but we’ve always found a way before, what happened to that? Your texts and phone calls are so meaningless. You make time for your friends and other people but don't make any for me." Your eyes turned glassy, tears escaping as you recalled your terrible feelings over the last month. 

"Do you know why you find me sleeping on the couch every night no matter how fucking uncomfortable it is? Because our bed literally smells like you and it constantly reminds me of you but you’re not even there. Do you know how many times I've wanted to talk to you but you're too distracted and I know you'd just push me away? Or how scared I am of bothering you? How many times I've wanted you to come home? How utterly empty and lonely the apartment feels without you even though everything about you is riddled all over it? You don't get it, Taehyung. You just don't fucking get it." You found yourself crying and clutched your chest where it felt like your heart was on display for Taehyung, the reality of everything hitting you like a 16-wheeler. 

Taehyung did nothing but blink at you for several seconds, shocked at what he just heard. Were you seriously.. that upset? His absence was that prominent? It didn't even feel like a month to him, but it seems to you it felt like an eternity. 

Taehyung unfortunately only knew his packed schedule and making sure he didn’t fall asleep where he shouldn't. A multitude of things ran through his mind on a daily basis with his chaotic life; discussing outfits with his stylist, trying to purchase that new serum his makeup artist always reminds him of, meeting with a producer to review freshly composed songs for his mixtape or finally going out for that one drink he always promised a friend or two—and he suddenly hated it all. 

He especially began to loathe his demanding life when he saw the hurt on your face; the way your eyes glistened with pain, the loneliness in your voice, the way you tried physically holding yourself together. He couldn't fathom he was the cause of such pain, wincing at how utterly stupid he was for not noticing this earlier.

I really did do something to her.

He searched for anything to say, beginning to form words but quickly stopping himself from starting a sentence each time. He only examined your crumbling state and regretted not having talked to you sooner, but suddenly wishing you informed him about your feelings preemptively.

"I.. I thought you would've said something, Y/N, but you didn't. How am I supposed to know you feel this way if you don't tell me? You-you seemed okay to me." He inquired softly, tone riddled with guilt, but his words only made a disdainful scoff leave your lips. 

"Told you? Taehyung, you have always made it clear that you're a busy person and I've always respected that. You also made clear the importance of this comeback and that I just had to understand how limited our time together would be. Of course I had to act okay. How could you expect me to come and beg you for your attention after you tell me not to seek it?"

Taehyung was taken aback, falling silent. You watched him angrily, finding it unbelievable he really had nothing to say for such a crucial argument. 

"I was fucking embarrassed, Taehyung. I thought you'd get mad at me for hovering around you while you were busy and stressed. I didn't want to fucking suffocate you." 

"What? Jagi, no, this is important. I wouldn't have reacted like that at all. If you were hurting this much you could've told me and I would've done something. You can always talk to me, how could you not know that?" Taehyung inquired with a hint of accusation and it was like every cell in your body had set off.

"Oh fuck you, Kim Taehyung. Don't give me that bullshit! Of course I know, but I also know that you just get caught up in your own world and your extravagant idol life and I don't wanna fucking bother you when you’re living it without me!" 

"Y/N, don't. I'm not trying to pick a fight with you, can you watch your tone a little?" Taehyung asked with a frustrated timbre.

"You know what? I won't, Taehyung, let's fight. Only way to get your attention, isn't it?" Your feelings had reached its peak as you decided to egg him on.

"Don't do this, Y/N. I'm trying to have a civilized conversation." 

"And I don't want a civilized conversation, it's only making you ask me stupid questions." 

"They're not stupid questions. Can you not understand my side of this?" 

"Nope, I won't because I don't care about your side, actually." 

"The fuck? And you just expect me to understand your side when you won't even try to understand mine? I’m expected to know how you feel? Well news flash, Y/N, I can't exactly read minds.” He humorlessly tapped his head for effect, quipping at you harshly.

"I'm not asking you to read my mind, I'm just asking you to fucking pay attention for once in your goddamn life." You rolled your eyes dramatically, arms crossed tight as ever. 

Taehyung noticeably grew angry at the remark, his eyes narrowing in irritation. "Do not tell me of all people I don't pay attention. You know I've changed over the years but how attentive I am hasn't. Don't ever say that to me again." Taehyung's stern voice warned you of the line you were crossing.

You immediately softened and turned your attitude down a notch, only by a margin since you knew he would never grow angry enough to do anything to you.

"Fine, you pay attention, but clearly not enough." You acquiesced, looking away from him. 

Taehyung tried his best to reason now that he sensed you yielding. "Look, this is my first time hearing about this, okay? I had no clue, especially because you seemed and acted fine with me. Of course I'm going to tell you you should've just talked to me, I'm seriously not asking stupid questions." 

"Well, I didn't want to talk to you." 

"And how was that going to help you? It's only making us argue over something so easily fixable." He indirectly accused you and you returned your eyes to his, narrowing them at his audacity. 

"Wow, easily fixable, huh? Do you really think it takes that little to earn my forgiveness after neglecting me for an entire month? Am I that easy to you?" You smiled to yourself miserably, turning away as tears spilled from you. 

Your assumptions were correct, he really just thought of you as some easy pushover. Part of this was your fault, wasn't it? Being so quiet and passive about everything. You voluntarily let him get away with everything, let him slip away without a fight, and the frustration of that realization came washing down on you, hard. 

"No, wait. That's not what I meant. I just meant that if you'd let me known earlier, we wouldn't be fighting like this." Taehyung instantly softened at your tears with regret, internally facepalming himself.

"I didn't want to openly tell you, okay? It makes me seem...like an attention-seeker, and I was so afraid of bothering you." You wore your heart on your sleeve as your voice wavered, more tears escaping as you attempted to blink them away. 

Taehyung looked at you with overwhelming worry. His heart was beyond broken now, his desire to fix everything growing stronger with every tear that dared escape your eyes. 

He needed to make this right, fast.

"It doesn't make you a fucking attention-seeker, Y/N. Stop being so worried about how you appear to me, I'm with you for a reason. I accept you in any way, especially after how much we fought for this, for us. Your feelings too, they're all fucking valid to me. I really would've done something if you’d just told me how you felt." Taehyung practically pleaded, his pouty lips and devastated eyes making it clear he just wanted to reach some sort of consensus with you. 

"But that's the problem, Tae." You sniffled, wiping some tears. "You keep saying I should’ve told you, when you should've noticed on your own in the first place." 

Taehyung felt like someone had slapped him across the face, his lips parting as a deep look of realization dawned on his gorgeous face. "I…" He trailed, but couldn't let words out. He was realizing how stupid he was, how unobservant and ignorant. He hated it all, hated that he was so busy, hated that he didn't pay enough attention and hated that he hurt you. 

You gave up when his lack of words warranted a tense silence between you two, cut short when you hastily left the room. You walked in the direction of the parking lot angrily. You just needed some air, needed to go home and cleanse yourself of him for the time being. 

You thought you were being quick enough, until you heard laboured footsteps and Taehyung's low voice echoing in the hallway, tailing you. 

"Y/N! Wait, wait! Please, don’t walk away!" Taehyung practically begged as he rushed to your side.

"I'm not gonna wait for anything, I'm going home!" 

"Stop! My manager's gonna take us home tonight, okay? We're gonna talk about this." He stated with solidarity as he grabbed your arm, eager to patch things up.

"No we're not, and I have my own car, I'm getting myself home." You snatched your arm from him and marched on.

"You can leave it here for fuck's sake, and I said stop. We're going home together and sorting this out because I can't leave you like this, okay? We need to fix this."

"Awh, all I'm getting from that is you'll finally be home for once!" You chirped sarcastically, never looking at him as you practically stomped away. You saw him falter from your side, knowing he had to have paused at the heft of your comment. 

You both eventually made it through the building’s doors, you needing to be pretty much dragged into his manager’s car despite your vehement protest, stupidly shut into the back with him.

You were turned away putting on an Oscar’s worthy performance of pretending he wasn’t there, and Taehyung was left to canvas his numerous thoughts as the car drove. 

He realized he had said nothing to your comment earlier because.. you were right. 

When was the last time he sat in a car with you like this? The last time you were both home together? The last time you both lazily threw your things onto the floor once you arrived home and immediately smothered each other after holding back all day? The last time he held you in his arms while you two watched a trashy movie? 

Holy fuck, when was the last time we had sex? Made love? 

He could only think of memories from weeks ago in quarantine, nothing recent. His solemn gaze fell upon you as he thought. He could feel the prominent tension between you two, the gut-wrenching distance, leaving a black hole swallowing his heart. He felt no ease, no affection, no love. 

When did it fucking become like this? 

He was still struggling to stomach the fact that he hurt you. He watched you regretfully, tears pricking at his eyes as he saw you attempting to hold back your own. 

He then felt the sudden need to hold you, to comfort you. You had been pulling away from him for so long that he wanted nothing but to feel his large, warm hand cradle your smaller, colder one. Reassure you that while he's stupid, he's still here. 

Taehyung looked at you and leaned over, deciding to gently slide a reaffirming hand atop yours, gripping your fingers with all the love and warmth he could muster. 

He expected you to reject him, nearly giving up on a reaction until he felt your tentative hand just barely grab his back. Surprised, he took a relaxed breath. 

I'm going to fix this.

Taehyung shut the door as you two sauntered into your apartment and you disregarded your things, heading straight for your room. You thought it would make Taehyung leave you alone, but he caught your hand as you began stepping away. He didn’t yank you; simply held your wrist, still and remorseful with your back to him. 

A long pause passed as he stood in place, silence piercing the air until you spoke coldly, "What do you want?"

“I’m sorry.” Was all he could manage, his once powerful voice so incredibly small. 

You searched for a response, the air becoming somewhat suffocating as you sighed. “I know.” 

“No, you don’t. Jagiya, I mean it. I mean it with everything I have. I'm so sorry” Taehyung insisted with meaning, like he was seconds away from falling apart if you didn't believe him. 

You could hear the sincerity in his words and you could feel how heartbroken he was, but your exhaustion amassed with all the emotions that had been attacking you all week were discouraging you from participating in any conversation right now. 

“You may mean it, but that’s not fixing anything, Taehyung. You really don’t know how it felt to have you ignore me. To see you unaffected by our time apart. It felt like you were pushing me away, like I wasn’t worth your fucking time anymore.” 

“That’s wrong, Jagiya. You are always worth my time.” 

“Then maybe you’re just a contradictive jerk, Taehyung, I don’t know!” You threw your hands up as you broke his hold, turning around vexed. 

"Because one day you're telling me to basically fuck off because you're too busy but the next you're saying I'm worth all your time? Where the fuck was that the last month then? All you had to do was spare me a couple hours a week, just a couple. I wasn't even asking for much, you could've made the time!"

“I'm sorry, okay! I’m a jerk, I get it, but I had a reason! I have a fucking reason but right now I want to apologize and say I'm sorry. I’m sorry I made you feel like that, I’m sorry I neglected you and made you feel alone, I never intended that!” Taehyung sincerely implored, eyes worried and persistent as he reached for you. 

“Then what did you intend? Saying sorry after the fact does nothing. If you didn’t intend to hurt me then what did you intend to do?!”  You shouted, evading his touch again. 

“I was doing it for you! The reason was all for you, for us!”

You couldn’t help but laugh as anger seeped into your blood, unbelieving of whatever excuses you thought he was making up. 

“For me? Us? Really? Wow, did you suddenly quit your job as an idol to become comedian of the fucking year?” You quipped venomously. "How the fuck is you ignoring me for a month 'for our relationship'?" 

Taehyung was trying hard to calm himself down, thinking twice about how he was going to handle this. "Y/N, please, just try to trust me on this." 

You scoffed disbelievingly, shaking your head as you quickly made your way further into the apartment and over to your TV. Taehyung's eyebrows furrowed as he watched you reach towards the shelf underneath it. It was adorned with cherished photos of the people you both held most dear; family, friends, the boys. Most of them consisted of Taehyung entertaining his love for photography, having snapped stunning photos of scenery, people or a combination of both he adored enough to frame. 

But many were of you two, either in front of gorgeous landscapes or adorable candids. You picked up a photograph of you two in Daegu—Taehyung's big arms enveloping yours from behind as you hooked onto them, all smiles in front of his family's strawberry farm after his camera’s timer snapped the photo.

“See this? This is something you did for us, you told me you only take and frame photos of the most beautiful moments in your life, and you gave this to me telling me it was your favourite moment.” You placed the frame down, opting to grab the gray Sherpa blanket off the couch in front of you. 

“This? You got this for me after I was diagnosed with anemia during Christmas and had been shivering for months. You told me not to worry because you’d always keep me warm and whenever you weren’t there I could use this blanket instead, think of it as you. You did that for me.” You disregarded the blanket and held up your wrist. 

“This bracelet? You got it for our anniversary and made it our equivalent of promise rings because you know I hate rings. You even made sure your bracelet matched in a way that other people wouldn't notice and was only special to us." You watched as Taehyung slightly lifted his left hand to look at the mentioned bracelet. "You did that for me, for us.” Tears were brimming your eyes as you spoke, voice growing shaky.

“Taehyung, you did all those sweet and thoughtful things for us, for me. Those are the kinds of things you should be doing, not fucking hurting me by acting like I don't matter to you, making me question everything. What’s wrong with you? How could you scare me like that? Treat me like I’m nothing and say it’s for our relationship?”

“You're not, you're not nothing." Taehyung's voice caught in his throat, trying hard to dry his glassy eyes.

"I get it, Y/N. I fucking get it, what I’m doing right now may not seem as sweet as all those other things, but I promise it’s as thoughtful, it's still all for you. I’m serious when I say that, this is all because I love you. Why can’t you just believe me?” 

"And why can’t you just say what it is? Why won't you tell me? Are you hiding something? Taehyung, what you did felt like anything but love-" 

"That’s not true. The reason is insignificant right now because I didn't mean to hurt you, I’m so fucking sorry.” Taehyung's voice shook with genuity, trying once again to approach you, gingerly, affectionately. 

Your anger couldn’t subside with the way he kept side-tracking, however, your emotions growing erratic again. "Are you kidding me? Insignificant? The reason is the most important! Just tell me, why did you ignore me for an entire fucking month?!” 

"I said it's not fucking important right now. I want to apologize first, I didn’t mean to do it!" Taehyung was desperate to reason, eyes begging you to believe him. 

“It is important! Tell me what you’re hiding.”  

“It’s not important.”

“Yes it is!”

“No it isn’t!” 

“Yes it is!” 

“No it isn’t! I'm trying to earn your forgiveness firs-Y/N, what are you.." Taehyung’s eye widened in shock.  

He couldn't finish his sentence because he watched you grab a cushion from the couch and suddenly launch it in his direction.

"What the fuck? What are you doing?!” Taehyung exclaimed as he dodged, his large hands instinctively catching the object, looking at you like a confused puppy. “Did you just throw that at me?!” 

“I did! And I'll do it again until you tell me what you’re hiding!” You challenged him like a child and started reaching for throwable things. Pens, notepads, books, even a stray plastic water bottle all went hurtling towards Taehyung. 

You couldn’t stop throwing out of frustration, his unfair gift of ambidextrous hands and incredible catching skills making you even more frustrated. 

Did he really have to be made so fucking perfect? 

He continued defending himself from your attacks until he grew annoyed, “For the love of God, Y/N, stop throwing shit! Just put everything down and listen to me, you have to trust me before I can even explain myself!” Taehyung shouted more so with concern for you, dodging a bottle of vitamins. 

Now why the fuck was that just lying around? 

You snorted condescendingly, "Again with that, trust you?" You mocked as the TV remote came into your hand. 

"You know what, Taehyung? Let me explain for you, you’ve just found someone new who's not fucking staff, haven’t you? Our relationship got too difficult and you’ve finally had enough. You’re hiding shit to save my feelings, aren’t you?” You accused him much to your dismay, angry tears pooling in your eyes.

"What-no! Fuck no I would never do or think any of that!" Taehyung vehemently denied, finally having reached you and wrestled you for the remote. He eventually pried it out of your hands, throwing it away and holding your wrists as you resisted him.

 "It’s none of that, alright? I was just so damn stressed and I had way too much work. There’s so much going on, it fucks with me and I didn't want to make you my fucking mental care, unload my idol life crap onto you. You're working just as hard and I didn't want to burden you.”  Taehyung desperately revealed trying to reach you, upset that you could even think such ridiculous, lowly things of him. 

"Don't you dare use work as an excuse. I know you were busy and stressed, but you were making time for everyone else in your life except me. Just say it, Tae. I know you're tired of us!"

"Fucking-Y/N, it's literally not that at all. I was actually busy, okay? What I said is true!" Taehyung pleaded, he knew he was only telling part of the truth, but it wasn't exactly a lie.

"It can't just be that, there's no way. What are you hiding from me? I'm serious, I'll leave this conversation if you don't, I'll leave this apartment if you don't-” 

"No! Just-alright! You really wanna know so badly?” Taehyung inquired rhetorically, his jaw locking. “Fine then. You fucking got found out.” 

You stopped fighting him and blinked, confusion riddling all your features. Taehyung sighed deeply and continued before you could say anything.  

“We got too comfortable, okay? I'm still an idol and our team heard a shit ton of rumours spreading outside the company about me dating someone. They controlled most and knew any remaining ones would just turn into baseless gossip since nobody knew your identity. I’d just get talked about which I didn't care about. But people somehow started finding your face, your name, and your information was spreading fast. Management was scared you'd be made public especially with reporters and cameras so up our asses these days and watching us. I was terrified when they told me. I couldn't let anyone know you, not when they’d do or say shit to you just because we're together… so I had to do something."

Now it was your turn to stand in shock for several seconds, utterly wide-eyed at the bullet you didn't even know Taehyung was keeping from you. 

“What-what the fuck? What do you mean? When did this happen?" 

"The same time I started 'ignoring' you. Nobody pressured me to break up with you, but I was warned to dissolve the rumours asap. I took matters into my own hands by acting the way I did to get people thinking we were either broken up or never dating in the first place. I hated doing it.. but it started working. I didn't want to tell you anything because I knew you'd just say we could solve everything together when we weren't in a position to do so." Taehyung wasn't hiding his clear anguish, upset having to recall his awful memories of the ordeal.

You were still shocked at how little you knew, finding yourself at least understanding of his actions and reasoning, but crossed your mind better ways to have dealt with this; especially ones that didn't entail hurting you.

"But Taehyung, you should've let me known. If you had just told me I wouldn't have gotten hurt like this. Why would you keep this from me?"

"I just.. I couldn't tell you. It felt like I was breaking up with you and I couldn't handle it. Even when I finally had the balls to do it I ended up prolonging because I just got so busy and pushed everything away to focus. I felt like I could deal with it on my own, fix it all by myself. I didn't want to drop this on you when you were busy too." 

You exhaled harshly, hating how unfair this entire situation was. "You could’ve told me with something like this, Taehyung. I can't just let you carry the burden all on your own, this entire problem had to do with me. We promised we wouldn’t keep shit from each other especially considering the circumstances of our relationship. Why would you break that promise?" Your eyes welled up again, inhaling painfully. 

Taehyung paused, scoffing humorlessly. "Yeah? I broke that promise? Jagi...you broke that promise too." 

You blinked again, his eyes piercing yours poignantly as you could only look back at him in defeat. 

He was right. 

He was entirely right, you hid your feelings from him and never told him anything, a clear violation of that promise on your end. But you couldn't let his wrongdoings go either, not on this; the hurt, the doubt, the thoughts he made you think. That pain was making you fall apart and the reality of it all came crashing down on you. "An apology still can’t fix this, Taehyung. I want to go to bed, we'll talk about this tomorrow.” 

You pulled away and moved towards your room until Taehyung rushed in front of you, grabbing onto your arms.

“Wait! This isn’t over, baby please, just listen to me.” 

“It is for today, Taehyung. I can't do this right now.” 

“No, I don’t want tomorrow. I want this now, I want to talk to you now.” Taehyung insisted with what seemed like his entire being. He didn't want to spend tonight like this; he didn't want you to sleep upset, and neither did he. 

“Taehyung, you’re making me repeat myself. Let me go, please. I’m exhausted.” You choked on your words, swiping your tears. 

“No, I told you I’m not fucking letting you go, especially not now.” He gripped you stubbornly, searching for your eyes.

“Taehyung, for the love of God just let me go-”

“I said no!” Taehyung's volume suddenly pierced the room, his intense aura stilling you. 

He didn't sound angry. rather in need, like he was calling out to you with his entire heart and the tight hold on your arms gave it all away. 

You finally decided to pay attention to him. His tone beyond serious, his eyes swimming with worry. His miserable face and refusal to let you go regrettably softened you. You understood him, saw the desperation and concern behind all his actions. 

But he chose to neglect you. He made you feel alone, made you overthink numerous possibilities about your relationship and even question his feelings for you.

"You.." You exhaled with agony, swallowing hard. 

None of this was easy, the nights you spent curled up on the couch overthinking, lying to everyone that you were okay, working in the studio alone to get him off your mind, blaming yourself. The accumulated pain of all those days now manifested in your chest all at once, making your heart ache. 

"You made me feel like I wasn't important to you, like I wasn't worth your time. I.. thought you found someone better, easier.. that I wasn't enough for you." Your voice crumbled by the second, your mind jumping to the one conclusion you tried to avoid the most but couldn't any longer. 

"I thought you weren't in love with me anymore." 

Taehyung's heart shattered into a million pieces, overwhelming hurt piercing his chest so violently that tears instantly betrayed his eyes. 

He couldn't bear any of this anymore, the tension, the distance, couldn't bear that you ever thought such an awful thing. Small tears escaped him as he gently placed his hands on your face, looking into your eyes with insurmountable pain before colliding his lips with yours. 

He kissed you tenderly, passionately, like his mouth was dying to express how much he'd missed you, and trying harder to prove how utterly wrong your last words were. Before you could even reject him, you found your own lips mirroring the same longing, the same need after a painful month apart.

Your eyes fluttered shut as tears stained your cheeks, the sheer love you could feel in his kiss suddenly brightening any parts inside you that had grown dark because of him. He began working against your mouth hungrily, trying to commit every inch of your lips to his memory. 

The kiss was fervent, utterly desperate, your harsh breaths mingling together as his hands on your cheeks wiped your tears away gingerly and yours clutched his hoodie tightly.

It's like he was consuming all of you, attempting to deepen the kiss with every second that passed by as he pulled you closer. And for once this past month, you didn't feel like questioning his feelings for you, because he was now serving them on a silver platter, making it blatantly obvious he had never once lost his love for you and will never do so. 

He kissed you like he wanted you and only you, he kissed you like you were fleeting and could disappear at any moment, he kissed you like you were his home, like you meant any and everything to him, like you were the only galaxy he believed in and it did nothing but set you both ablaze.

His tongue swiped your bottom lip impatiently, wanting to taste you after so long and you permitted absent-mindedly, damning every emotion except love and lust to hell, welcoming him. 

His tongue entangled with yours sloppily as you slid your hands up his sculpted neck, a soft groan escaping Taehyung's lips once you tugged his hair. 

It wasn't until Taehyung caught your bottom lip between his teeth that you felt something ignite inside you. You both panted as you disconnected, gazing at his dark eyes for a mere second before impatiently crashing your mouth onto his again. 

This time you caught him for a heated make out session, pulling his hair aimlessly as Taehyung pressed you against him with his arms snaking around your waist, both of you moving perfectly in sync with one other. The feeling of your bodies so close ignited your arousals, currents running through both your veins.

Taehyung pushed you back against the nearest wall, hard. You nearly yelped at the contact but Taehyung swallowed it with his eager kisses, getting rougher, sloppier, growing high off the feeling of you wanting more, him wanting so much more.

He brought his thigh in between you, pushing his hips against yours and you felt his hardness through his sweatpants. Your panties practically soaked at the contact, your moans devastatingly loud and hot and only making Taehyung harder. 

He brought his hands down to cup your ass momentarily as he kissed you, sliding them to the back of your thighs. You kicked yourself off the ground into his hold, legs grappling Taehyung's waist as he forced you back up against the wall. Your hands grabbed his jaw tightly, wanting all of him as your tongues moulded together. 

Taehyung felt his urges to touch you overwhelm him, utterly dying to hear you desperately say his name and moan breathlessly into his ear. He had gone too long, far too long without feeling you lose yourself to him that he needed you now. 

One of Taehyung's impatient hands moved up to fumble with the button of your jeans, disconneting to look into your eyes, his pink, swollen lips irresistible. 

"Have you been touching yourself?" He breathed hard and asked mere centimeters your mouth, forehead leaning on yours. 

"B-barely. I couldn't get myself off the same way." You exhaled harshly trying to calm down, mind woozy from the sheer adrenaline he was pumping through you. "You?" 

"Tried, but nothing felt like you." 

Taehyung returned his lips to yours breathlessly and unzipped roughly, sliding his hand inside and finding your already sopping wet heat. His fingers made contact through the soaked material and you let out a satisfied moan, throwing your head back against the wall. Taehyung chuckled proudly, pressing his lips to your exposed neck as he began lewdly rubbing your folds. 

Your walls clenched around nothing, begging for something to fill you up. You shamelessly rode against his fingers, desperate for more friction and Taehyung absolutely adored how needy you were. 

He smirked to himself as he pushed your underwear aside, his fingertips suddenly touching your bare pussy and you automatically felt sparks, gasping. 

Taehyung felt your delicious wetness and a satisfied groan left his lips. He couldn’t stop rubbing you, playing with your folds like it was a game he mastered ages ago. His digits spread you all over yourself, teasing you. He purposefully brushed over your clit multiple times and you felt nothing but fireworks, the heat between your legs growing so hot you clutched onto his shoulders to stay sane.

"Fuck.. Taehyung fuck! If you go inside.. I can't.. I'll fucking lose it." You stammered out, trying to relax but Taehyung eyed your panting figure with a smirk so evil you wished he'd just fuck you against this wall right now. 

Taehyung brought his lips to your ear and spoke lowly, the bass in his voice sending chills down your spine. 

"Then fucking lose it." 

Without warning, Taehyung shoved his two fingers inside you, a smug grin decorating his gorgeous face as he watched you nearly cry out, gripping harder into his hair and shoulder for dear life. His fingers began sliding in and out, your walls welcoming him greedily as he pumped you, milking out every beautiful sound you could make for him as he relished in them. 

Taehyung was already the hardest man on Earth, his cock painfully tucked away in his pants and aching to be inside you. You brought your forehead against his for support as he went harder, your breaths melding as you panted fucked out moans from the sheer bliss of his long fingers, just something of his dragging inside you. 

Your body moved up against the rougher thrusts of his fingers, practically fucking you open and the delectable sting certifying you’d lost it for Kim Taehyung. 

You suddenly felt your insides beginning to stir around him and you panicked, not wanting to let go just yet, just on his fingers. 

"T-Taehyung.. shit.. I can feel but- but not just on this." Your head was so gone a coherent sentence seemed impossible. Taehyung's fingers curled up inside you as he pumped a little harder, faster, making you whimper against his mouth and he used every ounce of strength he had not to swallow them with kisses, just so he could hear you. 

"Taehyung, please.." You moaned loudly and held onto him so desperately that Taehyung finally snapped, his dick throbbing to have you wrapped around him and hear his name just like that.

"Fuck this." Taehyung pulled his fingers out and carried you straight into your room.

He threw you down onto the bed hurriedly, his eyes blown out as he positioned himself above you. You breathed unevenly as you looked up at him, his body rising and falling quickly as he tried to control himself and his hungry look made you push your thighs together. 

The sight of your flushed cheeks and panting body underneath him made Taehyung's dominant side thrive. He drank you in greedily, registering this as the first time in a month he had you all to himself. 

"You don't fucking know, Y/N. All those times I had to hold back. When you walked around the studio looking sexy as hell, moving your body like pure sin, and I couldn't do a single thing to you." Taehyung's dark eyes indicated something had awakened inside him.

"What do you mean?" 

Taehyung scoffed, "You just don't get it." He mimicked you from earlier. “I was putting on a front and none of it was true. Every fucking time I saw you I wanted to lose it. Every time I saw you concentrating with that look, working, seeing your exposed skin, all the times I caught you practically eye-fucking me and I wanted to eye-fuck you back." Taehyung breathed out, voicing his pent up tension. 

"But you know what was worse? The times I saw you laughing with fucking Jungkook, screwing around with Jin-hyung, the guys acting so close with you. Watching back-up dancers eye-fuck you, hearing all their fucking comments about how hot you are, people asking if you’re single now, and I couldn't do shit because everyone was always around, watching." Taehyung breathed frustratedly, dangerous eyes locked on you.

"You know I don't get openly jealous, but my blood still boils under my skin when I see or hear those things, especially when I can’t do anything about it. I wanted you.. so badly, just wanted to take you right there in front of everyone if I could.." Taehyung nearly growled as his head hung low, entangling his hands with yours and squeezing them on the bed. 

"Then why didn't you?" 

Taehyung's eyes flashed up amusedly, "Why didn’t-you wanted me to do something in front of everyone?” His confusion softened into a little smirk. 

“You wanted to be watched, huh?" Taehyung lowered himself to your ear.  "Wanted everyone see the way I fuck you? See the way I make you mine? Fuck you open for me?” Taehyung was setting your core on fire and you had to bite your lip. 

He noticed and hated that his lips weren't on yours, quickly planting them for a kiss. 

The weight of Taehyung's leg pushing against your throbbing heat started compromising your sense of control, wanting to rile him up so bad he'll have no choice but to give you what you want. 

"Fuck, this is what I've been waiting for. Teasing you under me, cumming just from my fingers and tongue, fucking you senseless until you’re cumming again." Taehyung's words were filthy as ever and you loved every syllable. 

"Then do it." 

He smiled smugly as his mouth moved to the one spot on your neck he knew leaves you squirming. Curses left your mouth the second you felt his teeth, Taehyung adamant on leaving deep, purple marks. 

“I'm gonna show everyone you're mine, only mine.” Taehyung’s authoritative voice came out breathy as he kissed and bit in between, obsessed with seeing the art he was creating. 

"Shit… Taehyung yes, I missed you, I missed you so fucking much." You desperately stammered out.

"I fucking missed you too, baby." He smiled, his dark eyes glancing from your zip-up sweater and back to you. "But first, off."

Your hands moved for the zipper until Taehyung caught your wrists and forced them back against the bed, obsidian eyes scolding you. 

"That's my job." Taehyung spoke dominantly, hot as fuck as he stared at you while bringing his mouth down to your zipper.

His teeth caught it and slowly zipped down your body, pronouncedly breathing against your bare skin that made you hiss, arching up into him as he held your hands down. 

Taehyung was welcomed by your bra-cladded chest, basking in the glory of seeing your body after so long. He began laying kisses in between your breasts, his every contact electric. 

"Taehyung, please.. don't tease. It’s been so long." 

"We'll see about that."

He reached a hand underneath your back to unclip your bra, practically ripping the clothes off you and chucking them. 

Taehyung was heating up drinking you in, cursing at how even the sight of your naked top was making him somehow harder. 

"Shit, Jagi. You're so fucking gorgeous." Taehyung stated with haste as his large hands found your thighs that rested either side of his hips. He then slowly slid them up your abdomen, cupping your breasts and fingering your nipples. Your hands reached out to hold onto him as you exclaimed but he roughly pinned them above you, restricting you. 

He lowered himself to your chest for hickeys, kissing, licking, nibbling the flesh of your boobs. You arched and groaned as he held you down, sexually frustrated as he torturously teased you. 

"Taehyung, please… you know what I want." You breathed out, your hands resisting but he kept denying you. 

"You’re so fucking hot like this, so impatient and needy for me." Taehyung groaned, lapping his tongue over the flesh of your breasts until the tip of his tongue finally glided over your perched nipple.

You gasped at the contact, whimpering as your walls clenched around something non-existent and you bucked up into Taehyung. You could feel heat pooling at your core, begging to be battered as he sucked on your nipples, tongue doing wonders.  

Marks now embellished your chest as he kissed down to your stomach affectionately and neared your lower half, exciting your opening. 

Your eyes darted down and suddenly caught his length, poking out from his sweatpants and practically begging for attention. 

He instantly took notice. 

"No, princess. It’s about you tonight, not me, no touching." Taehyung ordered seriously, looking at you with a sense of dominance that only left you more aroused. 

You made a whiny noise, "Why not? I want to make you feel good." You retorted, wiggling your hand out to touch him until Taehyung locked you down harder. 

He clicked his tongue as he began pulling your pants and panties down your legs with one hand, his dark eyes chastising you, "We'll get to me another day." He disregarded them and let his hand feel up your thighs, bringing his face to your entrance.  

"But right now, having you like this, begging-” he nipped at your inner thigh, “making those sounds-” he licked the marks, “wet as hell for me-” he sucked your flesh, “that's all I need." His tone dropped an octave, letting your wrists go and nearing your cunt inch by inch. 

"Taehyung, fuck-don't do this. Please, it's been too long, don't tease.." You pleaded, hating the way he was shamelessly working you up.

"Do you need me, baby?" Taehyung watched your breath hitch as he kissed around your nether lips. "Need to feel me inside you? Stretch you out? Fuck the shit out of you?" His low, dark tone made butterflies fill your abdomen and all you could manage was a light nod.

"Tell me, Jagiya. Tell me what you want from me, where you want me.." Taehyung breathed against your soaked pussy and you shivered, beyond impatient. 

"Y-your tongue, your cock, Taehyung, you. Please..I can’t do this.. just fuck me, make me come all over you.." You rambled and looked at Taehyung through hooded eyes. You grabbed one of his hands and brought him directly to your dripping heat, rubbing him against your slit unforgivingly.

Taehyung groaned proudly, "Good girl. I'll fuck you so good you’ll feel me for hours, so hard I’ll have to carry you to rehearsals myself." Taehyung's filthy words rang in your ears. 

A loud moan escaped you once Taehyung's pillowy lips and tongue pressed onto your pussy, your breath hitching as his muscle began licking into your folds. Taehyung hooked onto your thighs from underneath, parting your legs wider for him. Your hands found his broad shoulders for support and you tugged at his hoodie frantically, whining. 

"Taehyung, off.." 

Taehyung drew away from you to slide his top off. He threw the sweater mindlessly as he returned, deciding to sink two fingers inside you as his tongue began licking. His newly exposed skin made you feel more aroused, tugging his soft curls to manage the bliss he was supplying you. 

His tongue licked you like he was starving, sucking and flicking your clit occasionally as his fingers curled up inside your velvety walls. You felt like crying, after such a long time the pleasure was already building up inside you and so intense you needed to let go. 

"Taehyung-Tae.. I feel it. Don't stop..." You moaned weakly, your orgasm dawning on you as Taehyung quickened his pace. His dark eyes watched you through his fluffy fringe and it was intoxicating, had you throwing your head back against the pillow just to contain yourself. 

"Come for me baby, come all over my tongue and fingers. I wanna hear you.” Taehyung cooed at you as he pumped and the tip of his tongue played with your clit faster, soothing your thigh and adoring the wet mess in between you. Your loud moans and groans sent shivers down Taehyung's spine and blood straight to his cock. 

The familiar sensation of something coiling came to you, gripping Taehyung's hair until you saw stars and felt a fierce snap, the unholiest of noises leaving you as your back arched. You panted hard, bringing an arm up to shield your eyes, the pleasure of your high dizzying as Taehyung watched you, tasting and fingering out your orgasm. 

He kissed your entrance multiple times before he decided he was done. He straightened himself up and wiped your juices off his chin, licking your essence off him. Feeling you come undone on his mouth made him go feral, needing to feel your walls hug his cock just the same.

He positioned himself above you, gently moving your arm from your face. 

"Don't hide from me." he spoke softly, intertwining his hands with yours against the pillow to adore your fucked out expression. 

You admired him innocently in the moment, his honey-coloured skin kissed by the moonlight radiating through the windows. The expanse of his broad chest and shoulders looking more bulky now that he was working out, his thick neck, the beautifully visible veins in his arms that all created the art that was Kim Taehyung. 

Your eyes scanned over him greedily until you landed on his lower half, the tent in his pants looking so painful you again ached to relieve it.

Taehyung eyed you as you licked your lips, boldly reaching out for his dick. You touched sparingly, Taehyung instantly letting out a pleasurable groan until he caught your hand.

"What did I say? You never fucking listen, do you?" Taehyung brat-handled you, his alpha male on full display. 

��What if I don’t want to listen?” You disobeyed and reached out again, gaining full contact until he grabbed and forced your hand against the sheets. 

“I’ll make you regret that." 

Taehyung quickly shuffled his pants and boxers down and past his hips, disregarding them and leaving him bare before you. 

Your eyes began ogling the angry, red tipped cock that had sprung out, looking painfully uncomfortable and leaving you wishing Taehyung had just fucked your mouth just watch him suffer. He was already leaking precum, making you whimper at the thought of him coming inside you. 

Taehyung positioned himself in between your legs, bringing his dick to your entrance. He tried to bite away a mischievous grin before sliding his cock against your folds to mix your wetness with his.

"Shit, Jagi, you're so fucking wet." Taehyung moaned with you at the pleasurable feeling. 

"Fuck, Taehyung…I can’t, I need.. inside." Your sentence was mangled, his hot flesh against you heavenly. 

"Shit, saying my name like that..I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll feel me in your throat." Taehyung growled, gripping the base of his cock and aligning himself with your entrance. You readied yourself until Taehyung stopped, a thought suddenly popping into his head. 

"Wait, you got your shot this month, right? You're okay with raw?" He asked with no particular haste, concern glossing over his eyes. 

Taehyung's chest suddenly tightened realizing he didn't even know something as simple as you getting your shot, important to him since your phobia of needles was so bad you usually needed to hold his hand or talk to him on the phone. 

But he was so busy this month he couldn't do either.  

"Of course, Taehyung, of course I did." You breathed out erratically, trying to calm down after his tormenting cock sliding. You gave his hand that held yours against the bed a squeeze, wishing he would begin battering your insides already. 

"Fuck, I know how much you're afraid of needles.. I should've been there." Taehyung became disappointed in himself, eyes faltering from yours. 

You immediately grew soft, "Taehyung.. it's okay, if it's for you then I'm not so scared. Don't worry, bubs." You said as you let go of his hands to cup his cheeks, searching for his eyes. 

"But you get them just for me..even though you're so scared. I love you for that." Taehyung doted on you as he tucked your hair behind your ear, completely contrasting his cock about to abuse you. 

"Taehyung, baby it’s okay, I'm okay. I'm with you right now. I want everything you thought of, everything you want with me… I want you." You looked into his doe eyes tinted with guilt, offering him a smile. 

Taehyung returned a light smile of his own, pressing a feathery kiss to your lips before he grabbed the base of his cock again. He gripped your hand hard as his dick compromised your opening. 

He hissed once he sank in, the feeling of your pussy opening up for him eliciting a drawn out 'fuck' to leave his mouth. 

Taehyung could feel how tight you were after a month without him; you weren't as stretched out and he felt drunk. The way your walls hugged his rock hard dick so snug, so intoxicating he wanted to completely lose control but refrained with you in mind. 

You thought you were used to the pleasurable burn of Taehyung's gifted size, already aware of how well-endowed he is but you suddenly felt a harsh sting and forced your hands against his chest, exasperating. Taehyung immediately stopped, widening his eyes in concern. 

"Are you okay?" 

"Just-just give me a second." He nodded, feeling your breaths calm down as he soothed over your arm, your walls relaxing

"Y-you can move." You voiced weakly. 

Taehyung complied and moved in considerately, failing to suppress the low groans that left him. He finally bottomed out and hit your cervix, both of you letting out satisfied grunts at the feeling of him buried so deep. He could feel the way your walls pulsed around him to adjust, adding to his lists of reasons he was insane for you. 

Taehyung kissed you as he began fucking gently, slowly, wanting to feel the way you wrapped around him, craving for you to feel every inch, groove and vein of his cock. 

The feeling of him slowly and languidly thrusting inside you felt otherworldly, the longing, the care, the love in his movements so apparent you grappled the back of his neck to hug him closer. Taehyung rocked himself against you, laying deep kisses to your mouth.

"Fuck, baby.. you're so tight." Taehyung breathed out, unable to hold back his sense of control, gradually fastening his pace to fuck you better, feel more. 

"How does it feel, princess, tell me." Taehyung cooed into your ear, now kissing underneath your jaw. Your lewd noises grew louder as he began pumping faster and Taehyung looked at you. 

"Shit, Taehyung. I-I feel so fucking good. You fill me up so good… want more.” You practically whined, head spinning at his intoxicating pace, wrapping your legs around Taehyung's torso to feel him deeper. 

Taehyung weakened at the feeling, kissing your lips with fervor and now thrusting faster as his need to come undone racked his balls, but aching to treat you first. His skin was imprinted with your scratches, him only fucking you faster in response. 

"Harder, Taehyung, fuck me harder..!" Your voice trailed with a mewl, kissing him sloppily as your desire for more of him grew unbearable. 

Taehyung smirked against your lips, "You want it harder, huh? You like that? Want me to fuck up your insides? Batter this pussy up?" 

"Y-yes, Taehyung, please." 

Taehyung already felt fucked out, wrestling with your tongue as he wrapped his arms around your torso and pressed you flush against him. You both groaned louder as his pace turned unforgiving, 99% sure your neighbours could hear every lewd sound. 

"Taehyung.. fuck. I missed you. I missed you so much!” You spoke without a thought, light-headed but hyper aware of just how much you wanted him, needed him, not only with his cock buried inside you but just him, so close to you. 

"Shit, baby.. I missed you more. So much. So fucking much, you don’t even know." Taehyung growled desperately as he fucked deeper, kissed harder, his tone coated with sincerity. 

Both your confessions made for rougher fucking, nasty tongue kissing, tighter grasps on each other. You rutted against one another shamelessly, movements faltering in precision and more so in desperation as Taehyung shoved himself inside you. 

And he watched as he did, seeing the way he disappeared into you between your bodies and enjoying the way you bounced in response. 

"Taehyung, fuck, Taehyung.." You moaned out his name breathlessly as you gripped his shoulders, feeling your abdomen flood with heat as his cock kissed your cervix. 

"Jagiya, fucking-watch it, say my name like that again and I'll fuck the living shit out of you." Taehyung warned with a growl as he rammed into you. 

"T-Taehyung.."

“Such a bad fucking girl." 

His arms suddenly locked you down in place, holding you tight as he began the roughest, hardest thrusts you've felt all night. Taehyung deliberately pulled all the way out only to smash back in as he felt your body jerk up in response, swallowing your whimpers.

Your moans were loud, ringing in your own ears as you felt yourself losing your sanity. He snapped into your gut, filled you up so good all you could feel was him. Your orgasm was bubbling in your stomach, begging for release now. 

"Taehyung, I'm gonna- fuck, I'm gonna come!”  You warned him with a pitchy yelp, the tingling feeling unbearable as his body rubbed against your clit. 

"Come for me, baby, all over my fucking cock, Let me feel you." Taehyung encouraged as he desperately tried to hold his own load, wanting nothing but to witness the way you came underneath him.

And out of nowhere your second orgasm washed over you, barely noticing the snap as you ached from oversensitivity and protested him to a halt. Taehyung controlled himself as your walls continuously clamped down on him, watching you pant from fatigue. 

But he decided on your punishment and suddenly flipped you onto your stomach, instinctively settling on all fours as you felt him prod your entrance. He pushed you to arch your back and pulled your ass up, giving a nice smack before kissing up your back like the demon he is. He sank in with no warning and began drilling into you again, setting a merciless pace and angling himself to fuck you completely open. 

“T-Taehyung, what are you doing!”

“You’re coming for me again.”  

“I can’t- Taehyung I can’t!” Your hand quickly came down to entangle with his on your hip, his deft fingers boring into your skin as he mercilessly buried every inch of his cock into you.

“You can do it! Just one more time for me princess, let go for me.” He coaxed you as he felt your walls pulsating around him again, his arms hugging your body to his and mouth breathing unevenly near your ear. 

"Taehyung, Ah- fuck! C-come inside me, please!”

"Shit, I’ll stuff you with my cum, fucking give you my kids!”  Taehyung grunted as he continued bartering your pussy, reaching down to roughly rub your clit. You cried out, half from sensitivity but half from pure pleasure, gripping his hand hard. 

You felt the coil coming back for a third time and Taehyung’s encourgements were doing absolute wonders. "Taehyung-shit I’m gonna..fuck!”

Once he delivered a particularly hard, deep thrust with his hand on your clit, you gasped out his name as another orgasm released through your body, temporarily blinding you with bliss. Your legs grew weak as you buried your face into the pillow, trying to catch your breath. 

“Just like that, baby, just like that.” Taehyung spoke supportively as he thrusted one last time before finally coming inside you, helping you ride out your climax. He groaned into your ear as he spurted hot stripes of cum inside you. You squeezed his hand on your stomach that still held you up, feeling him milk himself of every drop he had racked up just for you. 

Once Taehyung felt completely vacant of his seed, relief washed over him as he kissed your upper back, both of your bodies lax and panting for air. 

"You're amazing." Taehyung tried steadying his breathing, beaming as he hugged you from behind, cock still throbbing inside you. "I fucking… I held that back for so long."  

"You didn’t have to… I would've thrown myself at you if you just came home." You breathed shallowly.  "Could've done whatever you wanted.. I planned...on treating you cause you were so stressed." 

Taehyung rolled his eyes at himself, "Ugh-don’t remind me. I already feel dumb as fuck." 

You turned your head back and scolded jokingly, "Don't call yourself dumb, only I get to say that." A soft giggle escaped him as he let you go. Taehyung slowly pulled out and watched as he did so, viewing the mess in between your legs with admiration. 

Taehyung swiped the cum dripping down your thighs back into your core, completely stuffing you with him until he brought his fingers to your lips. He watched you lick provocatively, his breath hitching at the sight until needing to pull his fingers out. 

He then quickly made off the bed and ambled over to the bathroom, retrieving a damp towel and cleaning you up gingerly. He plopped down next to you after discarding it and threw an arm over his eyes. 

You turned to look at him, feeling the butterflies of him next to you flood your chest. You wiggled closer and propped yourself on an elbow to gaze at him, your other arm laying on his chest. 

Taehyung felt your eyes on him and spoke without looking. "Hi."

"Hi," you moved his arm from his face, echoing him. "Don’t hide from me."

Taehyung grinned at you, lifting his arm. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" 

"Like you're madly in love with me. Don’t do that, I don't really deserve it." He stated dejectedly, evading your eyes to rather view the night sky. 

"Kim Taehyung, what did you just say to me?" 

No response. 

You sighed, "Bubs, look at me." requesting with a softer tone and he returned his eyes to you hesitantly. You wagged your finger at him.

"Don't say that, okay? Maybe you should’ve told me, maybe I should’ve been more vocal about my feelings, maybe we both should’ve just communicated. It's not only your fault, it's mine too so please don't say that." Your bottom lip jutted out and your eyes implored him, upset that he was insulting himself. 

He deserved every ounce of love in this world. 

"Maybe.. I just..Fuck, you need to know I hated doing it, okay? Every time I saw you in that building I was dying to be with you, but I had to hold back to protect you. I couldn’t bear something happening to you, and please, please don’t think I don’t love you anymore. I do, I love you more than you’ll ever know. If I could throw all of this away for you I would." Taehyung spoke sincerely, remembering the way he saw you admit such an awful thought and he hated that he was the cause of it.

"You really don’t know how hard it was. I’m writing lyrics for my mixtape and they all end up about you. We're out at a photoshoot and I always wanted to send you pictures. I didn’t use SNS, call or text you because I knew it’d just be harder for me to create that stupid ass distance.” Taehyung ran a hand through his hair as he sighed, frustrated about it. 

“Even when I was shooting commercials I thought about your reactions if you saw them. I missed you the whole time, more than you know. I just couldn’t risk anything, there was so much on the line with you and I wasn’t going to give you up. Work got in the way and there was so much happening and I just-" 

“Shh shhh.” You calmed him down reaching for his cheek. “Thank you for that. I'm sorry you had to do everything by yourself, had to carry all that responsibility alone." Your lips quivered, catching Taehyung's attention. 

"No, it's okay. I'm the one who made you think all those shitty things. I do find you annoying, but I could never find you that annoying." Taehyung quipped to lighten the mood and you smacked his chest. 

"Hey!" 

"I'm kidding, Jagi." Taehyung chuckled before letting out a long, hard sigh. "I was just so swamped with this comeback, I’m working really hard for it and got too focused." He explained regretfully, tucking his hands underneath his head. 

"So you just thought fuck me for a little while, right?"

"Wha-no I didn't, I mean.. I did just fuck you but-not like that…shit, just come here!” Taehyung suddenly turned onto his side and threw his arms out, you scooted over to him instantly, giggling. He tightly wrapped his arms around you and hugged you close, pressing his lips to your hair and you kissed his shoulder.

Your hand absentmindedly found his and you intertwined them, causing a warm and comforting feeling to spread across your chest. 

You found yourself becoming smaller in his hold, clutching his hand to compose yourself because you didn't feel like ruining a passionate night with tears. 

Nonetheless, Taehyung sensed you growing vulnerable and pulled you on top of him, your naked bodies flush against one another. Taehyung immediately showered you with comfort, clutching you close to him.

"I’m not going anywhere, you’re with me for a lifetime, Jagiya." The smooth bass of Taehyung's voice eased you, reverberating from his chest as he senselessly soothed your back.

"Please, don't do that again. Please just tell me next time when there's a problem, I'll tell you too and we can work it out together." A hint of desperation tinted your tone, shutting your lips together to prevent yourself from crying.

"I won't, baby, I promise." Taehyung hugged you a little tighter, running a hand through your hair. 

"I love you, Taehyung." 

"I love you, Y/N." 

#taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #kim taehyung x reader #bts smut #taehyung scenario #taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung #first fic #thebtswritersclub

[deancaspinefest]

Long Haul

Author: justholdingstill | Artist: mybelovedcas Posting on Sunday March 20

Quarantine is a bitch and lockdown is worse, but Dean's got new neighbour with a balcony across from his who's about to make things a lot more interesting. 

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

Little does Dean Winchester know: today is his lucky day. On a normal day, he starts at the garage at eight AM sharp, which means that six days a week he leaves home before seven thirty, which means that only rarely does he ever get to observe the building complex stirring to life around him. He’s been learning that it’s nice just to watch Mrs. Aguirre puttering on her own patio, watering her mini jungle of plants, deadheading her begonias while she sings to them in her rasping voice. He’s learned that Mr. Benson down the hall likes to begin his day by listening to opera with all his windows open. He’s learned that the Adeyemi twins downstairs regularly perform some kind of combative, bed-jumping jiu-jitsu drill as a precursor to getting dressed in the morning, much to the exasperation of their parents. He’s learned, for better or for worse, that Jody and Donna, veterans of the night shift, sometimes have a shockingly creative and energetic pre-dawn sex life, about which they are not audibly shy. And, on this particular Thursday, he’s learning that he’s got a new third-floor neighbour he’s never seen before, situated directly across the courtyard from him. Better yet, the new neighbour is hot, the kind of hot that’s scruffy and windswept and maddeningly casual about it, the kind of hot that makes Dean’s mouth dry in a way that has nothing to do with the liquor. Best of all, he’s doing yoga on his balcony in the sunshine in nothing but a pair of soft, slim-fitting navy boxer briefs. Which, hell yeah. Hot Guy is not only hot and bendy, but he’s hot, bendy, tattooed and mostly naked. Score. This is the best thing that’s happened to Dean in at least a month. Maybe longer, if he’s being genuinely honest, because he wasn’t exactly burning it down out there before the rest of the world started coming apart at the seams. Hot Guy seems singularly focused on his practice--stretching slowly but intentionally into each each movement, each pose flowing smoothly and serenely into the next, his eyes mostly closed in concentration as he moves through a routine that seems like second nature to him--so Dean’s fairly certain he hasn’t taken notice of Dean out-and-out ogling his downward dog. He’s gonna count that as a blessing, because the dude’s got these thick, lusciously-muscled thighs that strain the legs of his shorts and make Dean want to weep at their absurd perfection; he couldn’t tear his eyes away if his life depended on it, and don’t even get Dean started on his arms. Dean’s fairly certain he hasn’t noticed, that is, right up until Hot Guy brings the routine to a close, eventually rouses himself out of the little nap he takes at the end, stands to roll up his mat, and then turns to shoot Dean what is unmistakably a wink accompanied by a little wave before he heads back inside. Fuck Dean’s life gently with a chainsaw.

 [continue reading on Ao3 on Sunday March 20]

#DCPF 2022 #DCPF Previews #destiel #deancas #COVID-19 Lockdown Meet-Cute #Neighbours AU #Socially Distanced Romance

[wkemeup]

Sunrise (10)

summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU) pairings: bucky x reader chapter word count: 6.9k warnings: smut (18+), angsty angst, this time I dont leave you with a cliff hanger 😉 🧡 series masterlist / series playlist

“Come on, Bucky! I know you’re in there!” 

You hit your fist on the door again. Perhaps you would have been more mindful of the the hour, but you’d heard glass shattering as you raced up the stairway just moments ago. You’d heard him shouting himself hoarse and heavy footsteps as he paced inside his apartment. You’d heard the cracks in his voice – the consumption of grief and fury and shame swallowing him whole.  

One of Bucky’s neighbors had rung Sam the first time Bucky’s screams could be heard through the thin apartment walls. It was the fifth time in as many nights and Sam promised Bucky would get it under control before they went to the landlord with noise complaints. He made no such promises that he would be the one to do it. 

An elderly woman in a nightgown peeped her head out into the hallway, scowling at you as you continued pounding on the door. Her beady eyes narrowed and you only spared her a moment’s glance before you returned to the door. 

“I’ll wake up the whole building! I swear to—” 

The door was pulled from under your fist. In its frame, stood a ghostly version of the man you knew. Dark circles hung heavy under his eyes. His hair was disheveled, blood dripped from a cut in his palm. Behind him, furniture was turned on its side, glass on the floor, magazines and unopened mail littering every surface. He'd torn his place apart.  

“What are you doing here?” 

You swallowed, forcing your voice stronger than you felt. “Sam called me.” 

Bucky’s grip on the doorknob tightened. “Of course, he did.”  

He paused only for a moment before he turned his back to you and walked inside the apartment. The door was left open in his wake and you took it as permission to enter. 

Cautiously, you took your first steps into his apartment. You tried to ignore the dust lining the curtains and the fleeting thought wondering when the last time he’d allowed the sun to touch his skin. The latch clicked behind you and you winced at the intrusion to the silence.  

Bucky meanwhile was staring out into the mess of his living room. His gaze rested on the couch turned on its side, then to the box of trinkets spilled on the floor by the mantel, then the broken glass by the window. His shoulders sagged; his expression unreadable. Slowly, he knelt down to the edge of the couch to flip it back on its legs.  

You watched him carefully, not uttering a word or daring to move closer until he finished. Once the couch was right side up again, he exhaled a tired breath and leaned against the edge. Exhaustion flickering through his eyes, though you suspected it had little to do with the exertion of moving furniture.  

As Bucky moved to throw the cushions back to the frame, you realized suddenly how he was dressed. Plaid blue pajama pants hung low on his waist. Bare feet prodding over hardwood floors too close to where broken shards of glass waited. His chest was exposed; skin glazed in the dim glow of moonlight as it peered through the small slit between the curtains.  

You could see his shoulder blades move along his back as he tensed. The lines of his spine and the dips along his hipbones. When he turned to face you again, your eyes were drawn to his shoulder and the frayed mess of scar tissue and burns. It was mesmerizing, the intricate patterns and the markings on his skin. Pink and red and faded with time. You wondered if it still hurt, if he could feel the nerve endings there or— 

Your gaze flickered back to Bucky’s. He was watching you, barely taking a breath. So vulnerable as he stood in front of you and he had no time to prepare for it. He probably didn’t realize how exposed he was until he noticed you staring. You’d imposed on his home, on his space. He couldn’t have known he’d be confronted with this tonight. 

All the effort it took for him to simply remove his jacket and now he was left standing before you without a single layer to protect him.  

You could see the doubt swimming behind his eyes. No matter how hard he tried to pretend like this connection between you was something he could easily push away, like he could let go of it without much of a second thought or a single word in his own defense, you could tell he was ripping himself apart at the seams, wondering whether you found him as repulsive as he saw himself to be. 

He shook his head, his features hardening over again. He gripped at the side of the couch until his knuckles turned white.  

“You should go home,” he said, breaking the silence. His voice was thick as gravel. “Sam shouldn’t have bothered you.” 

“Shouldn’t have—?” You scoffed, stunned. “Bucky, look at this place!” 

“I’m fine,” he replied flatly and you almost laughed if it weren’t for the deadpanned look upon his face.  

“You’re clearly not fine!” You dared to take a step closer, aching to remind him of the lightness he carried weeks earlier, only for him to retreat. He rejected the contact on instinct – a flinch throughout his whole body. Your heart clenched as if a hand had slipped in past your ribs and squeezed until it burst.  

Your breath was tight in your lungs as you tried again, a little softer this time, “you’re not fine, Bucky. You’ve kept yourself held up – alone – in this apartment for days on end. You’re pushing away the people who care about you. You’re not sleeping. You... You look like you’ve been through hell.” 

Bucky’s jaw was clenched so tight, you wondered if it might shatter. His gaze was unfocused, staring down at the floor by your feet.  

“You don’t have to put yourself thought this,” you eased, though the tension would not fade from his muscles. They remained locked as stone. You inched forward, a hand extending to him, an anchor to ground him. “Bucky, please... let me help you.” 

Something snapped – as sudden as a rubber band pulled taunt until its breaking point – and Bucky’s cold eyes met yours.  

"There is NO helping me!” he roared, startling you enough to flinched back a few paces, your hand curling back against your chest protectively. He curled his shaking hand to a fist. “I can't escape this shit! Even when I thought I could—when things were finally bearable again and I had a reason to get out of bed in the morning and I actually wanted to live through the fucking day— it all came back anyway! One word and I’m right back to where I started! I’m a fucking nightmare to be around! Don’t you get that?!” 

His breaths were coming in ragged, too quick. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes red. He hit his knuckles against the edge of the couch, on the wooden frame under the spine. Bucky barely took in a full breath.

“I can’t keep my shit together and I’m -- I’m only going to hurt you, okay? You shouldn’t want anything to do with this. I—I mean, look around you!” He kicked at the glass near his exposed feet, angry tears burning on his cheeks. “This is what my life looks like! Is this—is this what you want for yourself? You really want to sign up for this? This—this fucking endless parade of night terrors and panic attacks and anxiety? Huh?” 

He was brimming with pain. It was spilling over the surface and coating the floor. You were drowning in it and all you wanted to do was cross the room to him, to hold him, to soothe even an ounce of that suffering away because it would consume him whole if he let it.  

Bucky’s right hand was shaking so badly, tremors wouldn’t cease even as he clenched his fist. His body betrayed the stone he etched into his features. It was crumbling under the weight.  

“You really want to throw away your life for that? For me?” he spat as if the very idea itself carried venom in its implication, as if it were nothing more than a fool’s errand to spend a lifetime by his side, as if choosing him would be choosing to tie a noose around your neck.  

You’d never seen the evidence of his self-loathing before—not in full view and smothering the man you adored. He was expecting you to recoil, to run, to fight and argue and ultimately accept that you could never love a man so broken. It was a reaction he could wait a century for and still never find even a glimpse of hesitancy on your features.  

You steadied your breathing. Focused on the heart of the man standing in front of you, determined to push past the destructive fog he’d surrounded himself in. You took a step toward him, and this time, he did not run.  

“You’re not going to scare me away, Bucky.” 

Shame quickly spread through his body, replacing the threads of anger with something much crueler. His eyes fell to the floor, his chest rising unsteady and he stumbled back a few paces to give you space from the rage he wasn’t able to control. He looked about a decade younger as his features softened again, cowering back into the shadows. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” you eased, daring another step. 

Bucky shook his head, reflective lines along his cheeks. His lower lip was chewed raw.  

“You don’t deserve this mess. You should—You should be with someone whole. Someone who can give you a better life than I can.” He could barely choke out the words.

“I don’t want someone else.” You took another step closer, determined to close the space between you. “I want you.” 

The tips of your fingers brushed against Bucky’s hand and a shiver cast up his spine. His eyes were transfixed on your touch as you slowly encased his hand in your own, easing the tension through his body and crumbling the stones in his chest with a gentle slide of your thumb against his palm. He started to sink against it, his whole body caving in to the very thing he’d been keeping at an arm’s length. He was suffering withdrawal.  

“You don’t know what I’ve done,” Bucky whimpered, tears slipping past his eyes as he shut them tight, as if he could cast away his demons if he were blind to their shadows over his shoulder.  

You tugged gently on his hand, pulling him down to the couch. He followed you easily, his body moving of your accord as if he were made of clay. When you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, you felt the slight tremble along his spine, the shakiness in his bones. His head laid against your heartbeat, his right arm snaking around your waist in fear of letting go.   

“I don’t need to know what happened. I don’t need the details,” you sighed against his ear. “I know you. I know you’re a good man, Bucky.” 

Bucky was quiet for a minute. The silence hung thick in the air. 

“What if I’m not?” 

You tried to ignore the twist in your chest. “Oh honey, please don’t say that.” 

“I lost eight people, Y/n,” he muttered out, holding onto you a little tighter. You could feel his heart pounding as you raked your fingers through his hair, hoping to ease him if only a little. “Eight of my unit. My friends. If I... If I had said something sooner... We were sitting ducks and... and...” 

It was impossible to draw the pieces together. You couldn’t see the vivid image he held in his mind, but the details of that day weren’t necessary. He trusted you enough to outline the frame, to provide glimpses into the worst day of his life, even if they were messy and blurred. His body shook as he spoke, like maybe it was the first time he was saying the words aloud.  

You ran your fingers along his spine, drawing patterns along his shoulder blades. He shivered. 

The gentle glow of the moonlight caught the reflective edge of something on the floor. A medal. A Bronze Star. You pressed a kiss to his forehead, remembering what Natasha had told you about its merit for exceptional bravery.  

“Were there any survivors?” 

Bucky held his breath and slowly he nodded. “He was... He was just a kid when it happened. Peter. I think... I think if it wasn’t for him, I would have died out there. I would have given up. Woulda been easy enough. My arm would have bled out pretty quick and the sky... the sky was so beautiful that day. I don’t know why I remember that. Not a cloud for miles. It would have been a nice last thing to see, you know? I would have been okay with that. But Peter... Peter was so young and I... I wanted to bring him home.” 

Tears were openly streaming down your face and you were thankful Bucky couldn’t see them as he laid against your chest. You tried to stifle the sob as it broke through. You kissed at his hairline again, holding him as tight as you could manage. 

“You saved his life,” you stressed, hoping he might be able to hear it.  

Bucky swallowed, tears brushing against the thin fabric of your t-shirt. “I lost eight others.” 

“Yes, you did.” There was no disputing that. Eight lives had been lost and he was grieving his friends, his team, blaming himself for each life he didn’t save. His body tensed and you were mindful to draw pressured lines along his back to ease the rigidity there.  

“You did everything you could, honey.” 

Bucky shook his head. “No, I could have... I—I should have...” 

“Some things are just outside of your control.” 

“But I—” 

“It wasn’t your fault.” 

Bucky froze, the recognition present in his body as he slowly lifted his head from your chest. “That’s....” He blinked a few times. “That’s what Sam always said. Those exact words.” 

You smiled, brushing the hair from his eyes. You wiped your thumb along his cheekbone, drawing away the tracks of tears on his face. “Sam’s a smart guy.” 

Bucky searched your eyes and you could tell he was wondering how you’d come to know Sam’s mantras, how they’d become words you often repeated to yourself in your darkest moments, but he couldn’t quite find a way to ask. He pulled himself from your lap and propped himself up beside you, your hands intertwined. He squeezed it lightly and an aching smile pulled at your lips.  

"Sam used to have to write it on paper for me,” you admitted at the bittersweet memory. “I couldn’t say it to myself and he figured if I could read it in his writing, maybe I’d believe it if it were coming from him. After a while I started to say them out loud and hearing it my own voice... I don’t know. Sam kind of tricked me into healing, I guess.” 

You laughed under your breath and you felt Bucky ease slightly beside you. He squeezed your hand again, a silent reminder that he was there. You focused on the feel of his grip, the callouses on his palms and the warmth of his skin. Real and tangible. Your Bucky.  

“Sometimes I think Sam’s the only reason I survived after I lost Riley.” 

A slight pinch formed at Bucky’s brows, his eyes narrowing—a subtle sort of curiosity, though he waited patiently for you to continue. The silence didn’t seem to frighten him as much as he focused on you, his eyes darted to your lip as you dug in your teeth.  

You hadn’t let yourself be vulnerable next to Bucky before, afraid to take away from his own suffering in favor of your own. But you had known pain of a different kind. 

You knew what it was to crave comfort, to silently beg to be held. You knew how it felt to be rejected by a man too shattered to offer any piece of himself away without breaking apart entirely.  

The way Bucky was watching you, even through the dark circles under his eyes, the exhaustion pulling him in... it settled the twists of nerves in your stomach. His thumb traced at the edges of your palms, gentle sweeps to ease the tension away. His back straightened, a determination returning to his features, a sense of belonging – of purpose – in his comfort of you.  

“He was a pararescue in the Air Force,” you continued after a moment and a flash of realization crossed over Bucky’s features. You pressed out a sad sort of smile as you said, “you remind me of him a little.” 

You thought of the t-shirt you’d lent Bucky the evening you’d gotten caught in the storm together, how it clung to his chest. Bucky’s shoulders where broader than Riley’s had been. It was slightly bigger on your frame the next night you wore it. The logo had faded with constant washing, the soft green of the fabric muted to a grey. You’d worn it to sleep nearly every night for weeks after Riley left for his final tour, longer after he’d been killed.  

It was the most cherished thing you owned. Lending it to Bucky that night had taken a strength you hadn’t allowed for yourself in years. It brought back memories you’d left untouched and an ache in your chest you’d forgotten. But somewhere, under it all, it had released you. 

Riley would have liked Bucky, you thought, might have considered him a friend. You hoped he wouldn’t mind being the bridge that allowed you to move onto a new sense of peace, a new comfort. Even in Riley’s darkest moments, he only ever wanted you to be happy. You desperately hoped he meant that.  

“I loved him so much,” you told Bucky, your mouth feeling suddenly dry at the admission, “but the war had hurt him beyond the scars on his body. Most nights, he woke up screaming. I tried... I tried to comfort him, to ground him back to what was real, but Riley was always so stubborn. He insisted he was fine, as if I didn’t notice the dark circles under his eyes or that he started drinking coffee in the evening before bed. He never told me what happened. I know he wasn’t trying to hurt me, that he was just doing what he could to hold himself together, but... the truth was, I lost Riley long before the officers showed up at his parents’ house.” 

Bucky nodded, watching you intently, though he didn’t say a word. You could feel his eyes on you as you kept your stare ahead, focusing on the imperfections laced into the brick of the fireplace across the room. You studied the curve of the cement, the nicks in the mantel, the divots of the stone. It was the first time you’d uttered Riley’s name in years. 

“I know you think I can’t handle this stuff, that it’s too much for me, but this isn’t the first time I’ve been around someone with nightmares, Bucky, or panic attacks,” you said, memories flashing over Riley sinking to the floor with his hands pressed to his ears, tears streaming down his face, images of him turning his back on you and disappearing for days on end. You had hoped he’d open up in enough time, but he never did. He couldn’t, he’d said, or it would consume him whole. Even years later, you still wondered whether it was under the weight of his pain that he suffocated, not in the prospect of its release.  

“Riley struggled after his first tour,” you continued, a lump burning in your throat. “He... He came back different. He couldn’t adjust to civilian life. I could tell from the second he got home that he was itching to go back. Despite all the pain he endured, all the nightmares and the guilt, all he wanted to do was go back.” 

You glanced over at Bucky to find his jaw clenched in understanding. It wasn’t an uncommon feeling, for soldiers who waited so tirelessly to be reunited with family and friends to feel isolated and insignificant when they returned home, to want to return to the one place they felt like they belonged.  

“I tried to stop him,” you continued, wiping your eyes as unshed tears started to blur your vision. “I begged him to stay. He was out of his contract. He didn’t need to go back but...” You sighed. Bucky’s hand gripped yours and you drew on the ounce of strength he was offering. “The worst part was that he was better when he was over there. He was smiling again and laughing and making jokes like he used to. He was promising things for our future I hadn’t even allowed myself to consider before then. Being over there... it offered him something I never could and I was... I was glad for that. I was thankful he’d gone. I was... relieved. I’d missed him so much and I was just happy he was himself again, even if he was a world away, even if it broke my heart. Seeing him happy again... it was enough.” 

You brushed at your eyes, the calloused touch of Bucky’s palm sliding along your jaw to gently wipe the wet from your cheek. His breathing was even again, the shakiness in his hands subsided. He waited for you to gather your thoughts again, not uttering a word in favor of the crickets chirping outside the window – unparalleled kindness in his patience.  

You swallowed back the lump in your throat, urging yourself to continue. Your eyes met Bucky’s, finding comfort in the warm shades of blue and the encouraging glimpse of a smile that barely rose at the edges of his mouth.  

“When Riley died, I blamed myself for a long time,” you said. “I told myself I could have stopped him from going back. I could have done more to convince him to stay, to get him the help he needed. I could have fought harder for him—for... for us. But Riley was his own person. He made his own choices and I couldn’t have done a damn thing to stand in his way. Sam helped convince me of that.” 

Bucky’s face slacked. “That’s why you started volunteering at the VA.” 

You nodded. “Sam and Riley were partners. They had some sort of pact to take care of the other’s family if something happened. Sam held up his side of the bargain whether I liked it or not. He dragged me to the open house that year and I haven’t left since. I do it for Riley, but... I don’t know... I think I do it for myself, too.” 

You exhaled a heavy breath, turning away from the fireplace to face Bucky. His eyes weren’t as red as they had been, a frown no longer etched into his features. His gaze full, though heavy, and he watched you as if you carried the entire world in the palm of your hands.  

“So, you have to understand... I can’t lose you to this war, too,” you choked out, squeezing at his hand to feel the firmness of it, to remind yourself that he was real and sitting right beside you and not an ocean away. “I won’t survive losing you, Bucky. I need you, okay? Please.” 

He looked as though he was about to argue, but he quickly held his tongue as he watched the tears slip down over your cheeks. Reflective in the dim light from the window.  

You took in a long breath, straightening your spine as you met his eye, your voice stronger than it had been since you started. “Not everyone comes home, but you did. You survived and you wandered into my life and somehow, you made me believe in love again. Even on your worst days, just being near you is the best part of mine.” 

Bucky’s lips parted, a semblance of shock flashing over his eyes. You smiled at him through your tears, a hand sliding along the side of his cheek. He sighed against the touch of it, sinking into your embrace as if hadn’t ever expected to be held like that again. Your sweet Bucky, still so surprised that you could adore him as much as you did.  

“So, I will take your nightmares and your panic attacks,” you told him, smiling through the trembling in your lips. “I’ll take your bad days and share the weight you carry on your shoulders. I’ll take every ounce of shame and self-loathing you have until the day comes you can hardly feel it at all. I’ll take the empty side streets with you and we’ll drive so far out into the country side we’ll never hear a firework again.” 

Bucky chuckled at that, a smile pressing up along his cheek until you felt it under your palm.  

“I will take anything you throw at me,” you sighed, your thumb brushing over his lips, “as long as you’re mine. As long as I’m yours. That’s all I want, Bucky. It’s all I ask. Just you.” 

Bucky stared at you, a strange mixture of awe and disbelief on his features. You could see the hope burning behind his eyes, how badly he wanted to believe you, but doubt crept in and sunk its talons into his spine.  

His smile sank. “You’ve... you’ve already been through so much. I don’t know if I’m worth all that.” 

“You are.” You slid both hands along his cheeks, holding his gaze, until you leaned in closer, inch by inch, and pressed your lips to his forehead. Slow, lingering, you kissed his temples, his cheekbones, the tip of his nose, his jawline, pausing only when you found yourself a breath away from his lips.  

“You are, Bucky,” you said again, brushing your thumbs along his cheeks and catching a tear in its path. He bowed his head, a slight trembling in his jawline. It took everything you had not to collapse into him.  

“Honey, I promise you, it won’t always feel like this and I’ll convince you every day that you are enough, if you need me to,” you told him, your voice shaking as you held back tears. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? You’re not alone. Not now. Not ever again.” 

You leaned forward to kiss the crown of his head and his whole body seemed to sink in response, lightening, as if he’d let go of a boulder strapped upon his shoulders. His muscles softened, the tension slipping from his spine, until slowly, he began to lift his head, hair parting away from his eyes. Though they were strained and red, a crystalized ocean current stared back at you.  

You could feel the ease in his body taking over, a realization and a determination present in his stare, in his body.  

His lips parted, a steady breath in. “I love you.” 

*** 

It was the easiest thing he’d ever said; slipped from his lips as if the words had simply tumbled out on their own. Lost in how tenderly you touched him, how your hands never once left his body even as he held himself firm as stone, how you entrusted him with the most painful parts of yourself, how you gently coaxed him away from the shadows threatening to drag him back into a darkness he’d never recover from – he’d never been so certain of anything in his life.  

“I love you,” he said again, just wanting to hear it one more time. His voice was stronger this time, steadier, and he could feel his cheeks curving up into a smile. It ached from disuse, but it was a pleasant feeling. A kind one.  

He slipped his hand to rest on yours as it laid against his face and gently pulled it back just enough to kiss at your palm. It wasn’t often he found you at a loss for words, but it he didn’t mind the silence, not like he did before. He could still hear the slight hitch of surprise in your breath, the nervous laughter carrying in your exhale. You were smiling so wide, he wondered if it were even possible to love you more than he did in that moment.  

“Really?”  

God, you were so beautiful when you looked at him like that. Starry eyed and so full of hope.  

He nodded. “Yeah. I do.” 

You kissed him then, full on his mouth, arms thrown around his neck, and he had to stifle a laugh against your lips. He could feel the smile growing against him, laughing in between every kiss as the tears dried on your cheeks.  

“I love you, too, Bucky,” you beamed, drawing him in to kiss him again. 

He shouldn’t be surprised after all you’d said to him tonight, but it still fluttered in his chest, still caused butterflies to swarm in his stomach, still cast a blinding light deep into his heart that pushed out the remaining darkness lingering behind. His arm snaked around your back, holding you as tight against him as he could manage. He was breathless by the time you pulled away.  

“Will you stay?” he asked, suddenly feeling nervous as his eyes flickered over to the bedroom door. “I know it’s a mess out here, but—” 

Your lips were on his again and he swore he’d never talk again as long as you kept kissing him like that. Slowly, you began to stand from the couch, tugging him along with you. He pulled away from your lips just long enough to navigate his way to the bedroom, stepping over broken glass and the remnants of his nightmare on the living room floor.  

His bedroom was untouched, at least. The sheets were thrown haphazardly off the bed, but other than that, it was pristine in comparison to the damage he’d done out there. A shame tried to work its way deep into his chest, but he felt your hand slip into his, carefully drawing him close to the bed, and it released him to your care.  

His back bounced against the mattress in tune with the sweet sound of your laughter as you crawled over him. Thighs caging his hips, you straddled his waist and he looked up at you, certain he’d find a glimmering shine of a halo behind your head. The moonlight touched over your shoulders as you leaned down against him, kissing his lips. 

He’d missed you so much. Those two weeks left him in a hole he couldn’t possibly dig himself out of on his own. He was scraping at the bottom, nails filled with dirt, digging himself deeper and deeper until he could no longer see the sunlight as it touched over the surface. It wasn’t until you jumped down into the pit with him that he noticed there were notches in a wall once perfectly smooth, allowing him to crawl his way back up to the top.  

You leaned back a little, breathless, as your hands slid along his chest. It was the first time he’d been so exposed in front of you, the scars and burns on full display, and he was surprised that there was no hesitancy in your touch, no reluctance as you brushed your fingertips over the corners of the damage to his skin. But you paused, eyes flickering to him.  

“Can I?” 

Bucky sighed, his heart aching. You knew how difficult it was for him, for you to see this part of him. He hadn't even taken off his jacket once in the first few weeks of knowing you. But now, he nodded eagerly, wanting to feel the tenderness with which you handled him upon the broken remains of his left side.  

Your hands slid up over his shoulder, brushing along the bumps and ridges in his skin. Hardened tissue and raised edges. The way you touched him, like he was something beautiful and adored, made his heart swell. It wasn’t until you leaned down to press a feathered kiss to his shoulder, just over the burn marks and the glimpse of what he’d lost, that he choked back tears.  

“Is it too much?” you asked, noticing the trembling in his lower lip, but he quickly shook his head. 

“It’s perfect,” he replied breathily, drawing you back to his lips. “You’re perfect. I don’t deserve—” 

“Hush,” you warned, kissing him to cut him off, “don’t talk about the man I love like that. You deserve every ounce of love I can give you, you hear me?” 

He stared at you for a moment, studying the sincerity on your features until the gravity of what you said sank in, and slowly, he nodded. It would take time to believe that, but he hoped the more you said it, the easier it would come. He’d believe just about anything if it came from your voice.  

“Let me show you.” 

Bucky stilled; his throat suddenly dry.

“Let me show you, Bucky,” you asked again, your lips against his neck. He shivered. You sucked at his skin, drawing a map along his collarbone. You tongue licked at the indent by his neck. “Please.” 

When you met his eyes again, Bucky wondered if maybe you saw him with the same wonder and enchantment with which he saw you. It only took the slight tilt of a nod before you crossed your arms over your waist and slowly pulled your shirt up over your head. Your bra came next and Bucky shifted uncomfortably, realizing you were still straddling him, his hardening length prominent against your thigh. 

He stared up at you, studying over the curves of your breasts, the dips in your hips, untouched and exposed – so incredibly beautiful.  

He stopped himself as the thought entered his mind, the wondering whether he deserved such beauty in his life, wondering how he’d managed to trick the cruel twist of karma to allow him to love a woman like this – to love you like this. 

He cast away the doubt, forcing it back to the shadows where it belonged. It was easier to do that when you smiled at him like that, like he was truly worth something.  

You laid down against his chest as his hand slid up along your spine, feeling for the slight dip in your back and the goosebumps following in his wake. You shivered under his touch and for the first time, Bucky remembered what it felt like to be wanted.  

He couldn’t stop kissing you, even as your hands slipped to his waistband. It was like you breathed new life back into him; reviving him with every touch.  

He helped you push down the band of his pants until you could easily drag it down his legs and drop it to the floor by his bed. It had been a long time since he was so vulnerable in front of a woman, but he didn’t mind when you looked at him the way you did. There was no ounce of judgement in your eyes, no cautious glance to his shoulder and the absence there. There was only love.  

You slipped the remaining clothes from your body and Bucky held his breath as you climbed over him again, straddling his waist, bare. 

Bucky was trembling as he reached for the drawer at his bedside. Blindly digging around for a box in the back of the drawer, he felt for the edge of foil wrapping. He brought it to his teeth, careful to rip the packaging, though as he held it in one hand, he let out a heavy sigh.  

“Would you...?” he asked, a blush creeping up into his cheeks.  

He didn’t know why he was so embarrassed, given that you were both naked, but this was one of those things he couldn’t do for himself. It would have felt emasculating if it weren’t for how eagerly you nodded and how good it felt as you placed the condom on his tip and slowly rolled it down his base. He closed his eyes, sinking back into the pillow at the feeling, wondering how he was going to survive this. 

“You alright there, honey?” you called, giggling under your breath and, damn, if it wasn’t the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.  

“I won’t last long,” he admitted, his hand sliding up along your waist, thumb brushing over your breast. He tried to catch the whimper as it left his lips to no avail.  

You smirked. “I think we’ve waited long enough. Don’t you think?”  

You sank down on him and he choked back a moan, embarrassingly loud, but it only seemed to spur you on as you rolled your hips, giving him little time to adjust. You were so tight, squeezing around him, and – holy shit – when you dragged yourself against him, using him as you sought out the angle you were looking for, he’d never felt anything like it. 

He held his breath, focusing on the ceiling as he listened to the sweet sounds you made as your hands curled against his chest, hair falling down into your face. He knew he wouldn’t last as long as he wanted— hell, he would have stayed in you like this for hours if he could have – and it was taking near everything he had to hold out long enough for you to finish.  

Thankfully, you were just as riled up as he was – high on missing him, aching in the distance – and Bucky gasped as he felt your walls clench around him with the rushed circles between your legs. You picked up in pace and Bucky found himself meeting you half way, thrusting up into you as he braced himself on the headboard.  

“Oh God – Bucky,” you whimpered, your chest falling down to his, unable to hold yourself up. He kissed your neck, his hand sliding from around the wooden of the baseboard to grip your hips.  

If he could, he would have had a hand on your breast, teasing at the nipple, the other sliding down to the space between your bodies, rubbing circles on the nerves that left you so breathless you could hardly hold yourself up. But he was learning again, getting used to his body and his limits, and all he could focus on was holding you, guiding your hips, giving him leverage to fill you whole.  

Judging from the sounds you were making, your body molding like puddy against him, you didn’t mind at all. 

“I’m close,” you gasped, breath hot against his neck. “Ah, God, Bucky... I’m-- I’m--” 

He could feel it before the words left your lips, the clench in your walls, the spasms in your muscles that left you weak against him, overstimulated as you pulled your hand away from your clit. Your cries gave him the permission he needed to let go, only a few more thrusts was all it took, and he shuttered as he came.  

Breathless, hardly able to control the laugh as it bubbled in his chest, Bucky could hardly believe that he started this night in the darkest place he’d been in months, only to end up lying here with you, so full of light and love he could hardly stand it.  

He didn’t let you go at first, just wanting to hold you a little longer. He felt the sweet touch of your lips as they trailed along his neck, smile brimming against his ear. Then slowly, you rolled off of him, gently removing the condom and tossing it to the bin. A shiver slipped up his spine at the touch.  

“I’m sorry I pushed you away,” Bucky confessed as you laid against his chest, curling up to his side. He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. “Don’t let me do that again, okay? I can’t stand to go another day without you.” 

You smiled against his chest, your fingers tracing along the lines on his shoulder, touching over old scars and burns. You traced them as if they were simply lines on his body, just another piece of him worth loving, worth memorizing. He wondered if the next time he saw them in the mirror, he might remember this moment and see them for something more than the evidence of his loss that day. Maybe, he might see them the way you did – as evidence of his survival.  

“I love you,” you sighed and Bucky felt his heart swell; it grew and expanded so wide inside his chest, he wondered if his bones might bend to make room as it split him so lovely at the seams.  

“I love you, too.” He curled his arm tighter around your shoulders, drawing you close to his side. Over your shoulder, a cast of moonlight seeped in through the windows, touching over your skin, illuminating the room in a gentle glow. He closed his eyes as sleep drew him near, comforted by the patterns you drew against his shoulder. 

When he fell asleep, he fell willingly – protected in your embrace, safe, from the nightmares laying in wake.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you

[cherryriotcrash]

Consider the following:

Dom!Deku who likes to play fuck-fuck games with you in bed

Dom!Deku who’s specialty is putting you in positions where the only real thing keeping you restrained is the desire to be a good girl.

Dom!Deku who, most importantly, has a playlist that sets you up to know what kind of scene/evening you’re in for.

18+, minors DNI below the cut.

Some nights there’s a playlist filled with songs like Had Some Drinks and Her, and those are the nights he takes his time. Those nights, you have one rule: Hold still so daddy can spoil you.

And spoil you he does, touching and kissing every single part of you, spaces you never thought of starting at the tips of your fingers all the way down to the dips in your hips, leaving a mark where your soft tummy melts into your pelvis. You wiggle in place, painfully aware that the only “restraints” keeping you in place are flimsy paper cuffs, but you know that if you break them, the scene is over on the spot, regardless of whether or not you’ve been satisfied. By the time he finally presses a soft kiss to you clit, you’re whiny and needy, tears slipping down your face and into your hair as you babble helplessly for more, and he’ll give it to you…when he’s ready.

Other nights the music is faster, more explicit, songs like Acquainted and Hatef���k thrumming through your veins. Your primary rule this evening? Silence.

You’re blindfolded and bound, and you feel like you’re vibrating before you ever even feel the bed dip under his weight.

Nothing about tonight is going to be gentle, the soft dom tucked away in favor of commands and authority.

Knowing this, you’re egging him on, actively resisting attempts to maneuver your body where he wants, trying to press thick thighs together only to have them ripped apart to make room for the giant of a man you call a lover. He gives your inner thigh a sharp bite, making you keen before laving his tongue over the bruise and giving it a soothing kiss.

He flips you unceremoniously onto your belly, dragging two fingers through your dripping heat before bullying them inside your wet heat, setting a brutal pace. You feel soft curls tickle your skin as he kisses down your spine with a gentleness you didn’t expect from him in this state, all the way up until you feel his tongue, scalding hot and wet lick a stripe from where his fingers were pumping into you up to your tight asshole. He rips his fingers from your cunt, using your slick to ease his fingers’ entry elsewhere as you bite back a whine.

“Oh, pretty baby. I don’t know what’s gotten into your bratty ass tonight, but by the end of it, it’s going to be me.”

Your favorite playlist, however, was one of your own composition; the sound of bed springs creaking wildly, skin slapping against skin as your moans gargle up from the press of his hand on your throat. His back is covered with scratches, your moans and wails of his name are the lyrics to the rhythm he sets. The headboard beats against the wall loudly, making the neighboring apartment knock back and their irritation only seems to egg him on.

These are the nights where work was awful, where he lost an innocent or a villain managed to escape, where a peer was injured or worse. These are the nights where if he didn’t fill the emptiness with sound and fury, with your cries of ‘s too much, too big ‘Zuku interlacing with pleas for more deeper faster, he would be trapped in his own head. These are the nights he fucks into you, sucks bruises wherever his teeth can find purchase, whines back at you when you claw at his shoulders and mutters incoherent praises into your skin. He is fraying at the seams, coming undone and your fingers tracing up and down his sides puts him together again.

These are the nights he needs you like air, the nights he’s drowning and you are a life raft.

If everything else is going wrong, he knows he can do this right; he has never failed to fuck you into oblivion, infuriate the neighbors until you get a noise complaint, make you cry and cream on his cock until you’re sobbing out his name and your voice is gone in the morning.

He angles his hips, fingers on your clit as you try to push him away and he instructs you to stop fucking running from it and let go. You obey, ruining the towels he instructed you to place in advance and the half shucked hero costume he never bothered to take off completely. He ruts into you once, twice, three times and his vision goes spotty as he paints your walls his color, his own shout ripped from his throat.

The neighbors knock again. Izuku knocks back twice as loud before collapsing into bed next to you.

After all, the Number One Hero should be able to make a racket here and there.

You giggle and clean the both of you up, wiggling him out of his hero costume to chuck it in the wash with the towels, and when you come back, his soft snores create a new melody, an acapella performance backed only by the sounds of cars outside and you think this might be another favorite.

The city is still awake, but your lover, protector, husband, world is fast asleep.

For once, his thoughts are away from work. For once, he rests peacefully. For once, you see the furrow in his brow slack, face fully relaxed, lips that are usually pressed into a straight line are slightly parted as he snores.

You grab your phone from where it was knocked off of the bed, dial the agency and call the both of you out of work before pattering to the kitchen with a yawn to start his favorite dinner, dishes clinking musically as you work.

Right as you finish, you hear the syncopation of bones cracking, the heavy drumbeats of his footsteps as he enters the kitchen behind you, still exhausted but less stressed.

“You called us out?” His voice is baritone, still laden with sleep.

“You need rest,” you hummed, “and so do I.”

Dinner is silent save for the soft, tinkling melody of the both of you eating, the soft shuffle of you two cleaning and heading to bed, and your soft soprano sigh as he throws an arm around you and snuggles in for good this time, fingers drumming a beat on your rib cage until you fall asleep.

#mha smut #bnha #mha #zuku 🥦 #dom!deku #drabble #tw: mind games #dom!deku supremacy

[doiefy]

upcoming works

navigation / masterlist

This is a list of my wips and upcoming fics (at least, the ones I see myself posting in the coming months. The real wip folder is coming apart by the seams... but we choose to ignore it).

All expected release dates are tentative; I'm a full time student who writes like a madman on select days and suffers most other days.

If you'd like to be on the tag list for any of these, feel free to DM or send an Ask!

Last updated: January 29, 2022

ORIGAMI // KIM DOYOUNG

genre: rock band au, childhood friends, unrequited love, fluff, angst

pairing: front man!doyoung x songwriter!reader (gn.)

expected word count: 15k

expected release: february 2022

The best thing about working with Subsidence has always been the people. When Johnny invited you to his band’s very first gig at a cheap bar in your hometown, it was more so a night out with your childhood friends than anything else. When he asked you to write lyrics for them, it was a fun little project that kept you busy on the weekends—until suddenly the songs were going viral and the boys were breaking into your apartment at midnight to tell you the news.

But the worst thing about working with Subsidence has always been the people too. Because when you accidentally let slip the fact that you had the teeniest, tiniest crush on Kim Doyoung—the band’s brooding, charismatic front man—leave it to a bunch of man-children to make the biggest fucking deal out of it and ruin just about everything they started.

FIGHT OR FLIGHT III. DYSTOPIAS (FINALE) // KIM DOYOUNG

i. dynasties ii. downfalls

genre: sci-fi, cyberpunk, hybrids, mutants, crime, contract killers, enemies to lovers, angst

pairing: contract killer!doyoung x middleman!reader (gn.), johnny x reader

expected word count: 15-20k

expected release: march 2022 (parts 1 and 2 have already been posted)

note: taking a small break with this one because the exposition and character development for this last part has been unbelievably hard for me to figure out.

In which the compromised anonymity of the city’s most wanted kingpin sucks you and your best contract killers into dangerous territory: crime syndicates parading as high societies, black markets fueled by tyranny, illicit substances meant for those who are more animal than they are human. In which the only way to escape with your lives is to tear it all down from within.

Dynasties (finale): new allies, new enemies, and new thrones built from the toppled remains of the last.

GO FORTH // MOON TAEIL

genre: slice of life, crime, sci fi, cyberpunk, psychological horror, angst, spin-off for 'fight or flight'

pairing: taeil x f. reader periodically, mostly taeil standalone

expected word count: 20k

expected release: may 2022

Moony spends his days rotting away in the grimy Neo refineries of the under city, working a job that he's definitely not qualified for, and habitually crawling out of the hole to visit an all-you-can-eat wings place.

Dal's wife left him. He thinks. He's not too sure after the accident. He's got two adopted kids and three golden retrievers. He barbecues sausages for neighbourhood block parties every Saturday and watches baseball every Sunday.

Taewoo's rich. Filthy rich with a fancy sports car, private villa, and connections to just about every influential figure in the city. Spoiled rotten and endlessly arrogant, he answers to no one. Except his creator, and a delivery truck driver who arrives at his door every Monday morning with instructions for the following week.

And there's a fourth. The control centre of a united body, and the beating heart of a masterpiece. The one with authority, who calls the rest to go forth.

AT DUSK // KIM DOYOUNG

dawn to dusk series

genre: modern vampire, crime, murder mystery, death games, horror

pairing: no pairing, doyoung standalone

expected word count: 30k

expected release: june-august 2022

After centuries of hiding and oppression, the vampire underground now sees its darkest days: blatant animosity between people of the same kind, twisted schools of thoughts, cultish covens, all of which have led to bloodshed around every corner.

A series of unsettling disappearances and the murder of a friend have Doyoung searching through the pits of hell for answers. Out of morbid curiosity and his unrelenting pursuit for vengeance, he vows to dig up the entire underground, to play in the sickest, vilest games if it means unmasking the mastermind behind it all—but in a split second of weakness, he might just become the very people he’s hellbent on destroying.

It's a lot of doyoung. I'm well aware of this and I do not apologize for it.

#nct #nct fanfic #nct fanfiction #nct angst #nct fluff #nct smut #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct drabbles #nct blurbs #nct timestamps #nct masterlist #nct au #nct doyoung #doyoung #nct taeil #taeil #doyoung fanfic #taeil fanfic

[mischievoushiddleston]

Hard to Get

Plot: Being the host of the Golden Globes has some very attractive advantages, or rather a very attractive advantage on two legs ... and the after party is not bad either...

Warnings: Public Fingering, Sex in Bathroom, light Dub-Con, but not really

Words: 1.4 K

Masterlist here!

"A big round of applause please!" Y/N shouted into their microphones as the actress left the stage with her Golden Globe and the room applauded. "Wasn't her dress wonderful, Tom?"

"Not quite as wonderful as your dress looks on you, you drive me and the male world crazy with that slit down your leg." Said Tom and the audience laughed out loud. It wasn't the first time he flirted with her during the evening, but to anyone watching it just seemed like normal conversation.

"Tom...I'm blushing already..." Y/N pretended to look away from him shyly.

"That color suits you." He smiled and walked around her. The audience didn't notice how he gently caressed her waist with his hand and leaned towards her ear. "It would look especially nice on my bed with you moaning my name and my cock inside you." Her breath caught at Thom's words and her cheek was already flaming. Although he had already flirted with her, this was the first time he had spoken to her like this. "Thank you for this wonderful evening, ladies and gentlemen. See you at the after party." Tom winked at the audience, but Y/N had a hunch that the wink was meant for her. She quickly tried to leave the stage without drawing attention to herself. The stage assistant followed her and gave her a bottle of water. She looked at herself in the mirror, her cheeks visibly flushed, despite the makeup.

Y/N closed her eyes and tried to clear her head. What is this man doing to her? She was an independent woman, successful as an actress and in her life. But just a look or a cheeky comment from him was enough to tear her world apart at the seams.

"Are you okay?" She startled out of her thoughts, and with a glance in the mirror, she realized that Tom was standing less than a foot behind her.

"Um...yeah." She said, trying to sound normal.                                                      "You were off the stage so quickly." Tom looked concerned for her."I was a little warm, that's all." She turned and leaned against the table as Tom walked closer to her, smiling mischievously.

"I certainly hope my words didn't do that." He gently stroked her bare upper arms and a shiver ran down her spine. "Although I must confess I meant every word I said, you completely naked on my varnishes. I would enjoy it and I'm sure for you I would always have time to see you on my bed."

"Tom. Please, let's keep this professional."

"Then tell me you don't want this, that you don't want me." Tom leaned closer to her, his lips inches from hers.

"The after-party starts in half an hour." Said the assistant as she hurried around the corner, staring at her clipboard. Tom instantly moved away from her as if nothing had happened between Y/N and him moments before.

"Thanks, we'll be there in half an hour." Tom stated politely. She pushed herself away from the table and went to the assistant to create space between him.

"I'm already ready." The assistant nodded and began to walk away. Y/N followed her and looked over her shoulder one last time, Tom was looking the other way, his hands were braced on his hips and his jaw was tense. He seemed visibly upset at the interruption. It was a short time later when Y/N arrived at the party and it was already in full swing. She looked around and was relieved not to see Tom in the crowd, she didn't think she would be able to resist him again if she met him again tonight. As one of the waiters passed her, she grabbed a glass of the champagne and drank it down in one gulp.

"Are you trying to get drunk?" Y/N's body froze when she heard his voice beside her.

"No." She replied curtly, trying not to look at him as he moved to stand in front of her. She regretted standing in a corner now, but she had hoped not to run into Tom that way. But that now proved to be ineffective. He leaned his arms against the wall right next to her head.

"Look at me, Y/N, please." He asked her gently. She looked up at him and immediately regretted complying with his request. "That's better. Why are you hiding from me?"

"I'm not hiding from you." She stuttered, her determination to resist Tom beginning to waver.

"No? Yet you act as if you don't want me." One of his fingers stroked her collarbone seductively and a smile formed on his lips. "Yet we both know the truth, you want me to fuck you until you only know my name."

Y/N looked away from him shyly. "You want me to use you in every way you can imagine. I want to take you out of your shell. I know you crave my cock in your pussy. If I let my hand wander into the slit of your dress right now, would you be wet for me?" As he said this, his hand moved down into the slit.

Tom didn't wait for her permission, he didn't need to, because even if Y/N didn't admit it she craved him. He kissed her neck and groaned when he noticed she wasn't wearing panties. "No panties? You were just waiting for that, weren't you?"

She couldn't hold back a soft moan as he rubbed his index finger over her wet pussy. "Tom please..." Y/N moaned, but she wasn't clear if she wanted him to stop or if she wanted him to continue. He pushed a finger into her pussy and began thrusting into her. She began to moan and Tom quickly put his hand over her mouth.

"We don't want anyone else to hear what's just for me, do we?" He added another finger and began to fuck her faster with his fingers, his thumb began to rub her clit. His lips were on her neck and no one could see his hand on her mouth and his body was blocking anyone who passed by, it just looked like they were kissing. Y/N's pussy grew wetter with that thought. As she tightened around his fingers, he knew she was about to come. Tom pulled his fingers out of her and licked his fingers with a grin. She had her eyes closed and he looked around, no one seemed to have noticed the two of them.

His arm wrapped around her waist and he pulled her with him down a thin, dark hallway. He opened a door and entered the bathroom with her, closing the door behind him. Tom gently pushed her toward the sink and Y/N held onto it with her hands. She looked in the mirror and met his dark gaze. He slid her dress over her waist and she heard the metallic sound of his belt.

The tip pressed against the wet entrance of her pussy. "Are you on the pill?"

Y/N nodded slightly and Tom thrust his whole cock into her in one hard, fast thrust. "Oh God...Tom." She moaned loudly and her grip on the sink tightened.

"You're really tight around my cock." After a few moments, he began thrusting into her. She leaned on the sink with her forearms as he quickly began thrusting into her. Her body thrust forward a little from the force of his thrusts. "Do you know how long I've longed for you? God...Yet you were always too shy to even exchange a word with me." He took her hips in his hands and pulled her against him, in sync with his thrusts against her. Her back arched and her moans filled the small bathroom.

"Tom...Ah..."

"I was actually going to be shooting a new movie in Los Angeles at the moment, but when I found out you were going to be here as well..." The rest of the words were left unsaid, he didn't need to say them. His hand wandered down and began rubbing her clit. "Come for me."

Tom pulled her up and kneaded her breast through her dress and nibbled on her neck. It only took a few more thrusts before they both orgasmed at the same time, Tom filling Y/N with his hot cum.

"Let's get out of this party, after all I promised to make you blush on my bed."

Tag-List open!

@smoke-and-sunset @everybitch @coco-puffses @fa-me

#tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston #twhiddleston #smut #golden globes #Thomas William Hiddleston #tom hiddleston imagine

[bonny-kookoo]

👹Bad Habits (JJK x Reader) 💜☁️🔞

👹Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

👹Genre: (Twisted)Romance, Angst, Smut, Psycho!JK

👹Warnings: Size kink, Body worship, biting, rough manhandling, JK accidentally hurts her a bit (but apologizes dw), mildly disturbing themes (blood, guts, bones cracking...), criminal activities such as theft (mentioned) and murder (not actively stated, but heavily implied), panic attack, psychotic episodes, psycho!JK because holy shit I actually got scared what did I create, degrading names (he calls her a whore in his mind like once..), possessive JK, strength kink, reader is unable to conceive (chances are very slim), unprotected sex (please wrap it before you tap it folks), impreg kink, dead dove do not eat 🕊 manipulative Koo, Dom!Kook, therapy talk, relapses, horrible anger management, emotional koo, emotional reader, look mom I actually wrote a happy ending

👹Summary: Oh monster monster under my bed, you’re the only one I have left, come out and play ‘cause I need a friend.

Jeon Jungkook is sick.

You know this, you are very aware of it if the very much still gaping holes in the walls of your apartment, left from his most recent violent episode is anything to go by. He's got anger issues, that much is very apparent to anyone who genuinely knows Jungkook. Somehow he just can't keep himself in check, it's like he just needs the perfect trigger to simply go off like a bomb dropped from ten feet. It doesn't take much to rile him up. It takes a lot however to get him back down again.

Now, this would be the perfect moment to explain that you are the sweet and kind ray of sunlight calming his temper and cooling his ever violently burning mind- but that's not the case. There's nothing that can tame the young man at your side, nothing that can snap that collar around his neck and chain him up to a wall until he's safe to be around again. You can't do anything more than watch and pray that he will keep his promise to never ever hurt you. At first, you were worried. Anyone would be.

But then the first outbreak came.

Then the second.

And you were fine.

He would wreck the apartment, throw furniture, or beat someone to a bloody mess in an alleyway next to a nightclub simply because the guy had looked at your admittedly short skirt the wrong way. While for the longest time he didn't care about anyone, you've become his possession, in every way that the word stands. He owns you, every single cell of your being is his, and he's ready to push anyone's eyes back into their skull just for looking at you weirdly. No one is allowed to lust after you but him. No one's allowed to even think about you but him.

It's quite bittersweet, the reasoning behind his obsession with you. You're not scared, you're never running away, you're always so gentle, so delicate, such an angel around him- and in one way he fears that one day he's gonna be the wolf eating the sheep in a frenzy. In the other however, he's weirdly amused by it; the way you still look at him so innocently as if you didn't know that his hands could snap your neck like a twig between his combat boots he's typically sporting. It's a very twisted story with you two, and in a sense, he's certain that you have to be just as sick in your head as he is for genuinely loving him and his bad habits.

Just like now.

You're not saying anything. Even when you can hear the young mans ribs cracking underneath the steel toed black boots of your boyfriend, you're quiet, watching, unable to tear your eyes away from him- and you don't even know who exactly you're watching. You have already forgotten what the young man looked like- your eyes unable to reconstruct his facial features back to what they were before Jungkook had thrown his fists into them until the stranger couldn't even open his eyes anymore, face bloody and bruised to the point where you're hoping he won't survive it. You're also simply watching as Jungkooks pretty long hair, drenched in a mixture of sweat and rain from above whips around violently as if to mimic the way his muscled leg stomps into the man's chest over an over again, face holding a determination that should scare you. It's all over after a moment however, as your boyfriend seems to grow a bit tired now, slowly calming down as his anger ebbs down, waves finally evening as he breathes heavily. He runs a hand through his hair as he looks at what's in front of his feet; unable to quite realize that this was actually him. He turns, looking for you, and his entire facial expression suddenly changes.

While he looked absolutely terrifying just moments before, he's suddenly holding such a sweet and calm glint in his eyes as he takes off his jacket, putting it over your head as he smiles down at you, inner demon now fed again as it seems to crawl back behind his actual soul it consumes daily. You smile back, and he leads you out of the alley, giggling like a teenager when you playfully start to run towards the car, calling him a sore looser when he doesn't let you win like he usually does.

Jeon Jungkook is sick. But he's just a young man as well, deep down.

He's got you sat on his lap as he greedily licks at your neck, teeth suddenly clamping down on the skin as you mewl underneath his touch and actions. He's grinning like the devil in person, his large-in-comparison palms holding your behind as they suddenly sneak underneath your shirt; his shirt, actually, and the main reason he suddenly got hungry to devour you. Your hair is still slightly damp, but he doesn't care as he lifts you up, placing you underneath him on your shared bed, hair falling into his eyes as he pulls the dark grey carharrt shirt over your head, immediately kissing your collarbone, hands kneading your breasts needily as he seems too eager to slow down anytime soon. He grabs your ribs and its as if he doesn't know where to touch- he wants it all, wants to feel it all, all at once, because it drowns out all the bad things he usually does. You're an outlet for his pent up aggression, only that he lets loose differently with you. He's got no hunger to make you suffer, to give you pain or to have you look at him in fear. No, he simply craves the way you writhe underneath him, ready for him, wanting, needing him. Such an angel, such a whore, so needy for his love and affection.

Something he wasn't sure he was capable of.

But he is, and it shows; while he usually moves with his jaw clenched, his brows furrowed, ever so agitated by the simplest of things, his face is calm now, relaxed, eyes however still feral- his gaze enough to make your core ache and your skin tingle. He's chuckling as he moves you around, suddenly impatient as he noticed your panties won't leave your legs as fast as he wants them to. It irritates him to the point where he just rips them as the seams, the fabric now ruined, but neither of you care as his hand instantly finds its way down to cup your heat, ring- and middle finger collecting your slick to bring it upwards to your clit, thumb running in circles over it as you squirm and whine, making him smile.

You're so sweet like this, and he can't help but move your legs, pulling you closer to him in his usual rough manner- he's not capable of being all gentle and sweet, after all. He tries, he really does, but Jungkook is like an overgrown puppy; he doesn't know how much strength he actually has. And it shows, as you squeak, painfully so, as he had gripped your legs a bit too tightly; fingerprints already an angry red on your skin, and he cooes at you, apologizing. "I'm sorry, so sorry.." He hushes against your skin, placing sweet kisses on the pulsing marks on your leg. "can't help it baby.." He muses, and you simply nod your head, hands reaching out for him as he smiles again, kissing your lips, finally.

He's never been fond of the gesture before, not understanding why something as unsanitary as this could be meant to signify any romance at all. But eventually he's gotten to know the intimacy of it, and had decided for himself that he'll never kiss anyone but you in his life. He doesn't want anyone but you anyways. You're his, for now, and forever.

"You're so sweet angel, you know that?"

He humms it against your neck as he finally rids himself of his own clothes, erection hard and proudly waiting to bury itself into your sweet cunt. "Hmm.." He humms again, amusement in his voice as he continues to draw patterns over your sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs. "I still can't believe how I fit inside that pretty body of yours." He says, as you suddenly feel the hot skin of his length against your middle. "Can't believe you can take it so well princess." His hand leaves your core finally, as he slowly enters you, making you mewl as he groans.

He doesn't have much self-restraint, but every time you're together like this, you're both amazed by how much he can control himself. The way he plays you like an expensive instrument makes you hang from his hands like a puppet on its strings. And you love it- the simple fact that he's able to do anything he wants with you, yet he'd never use you just to throw you away. He'd never hurt you. You know this.

He grins as he places his hand over the slight bulge forming underneath your skin where his cock is moving inside you, all warm and swollen, impatient as he can't help but move more vigorously, harder than before, as your body moves along with the beat he's giving you. He's in control, its impossible to lie about that and you don't see any problem with that. Your mind is empty, only pleasure remains as he bites down onto your skin again, hands roaming as if they can't decide where they want to stay; because it's the truth after all. He can't decide what he loves most about you, if your body is whats the most desirable or if its your soul locked inside of it and chained to his own like a prisoner. He gets a kick out of this feeling, out of the way you're speared on his cock like the doll you are, and if he desired to, he could simply snap your bones like those pepero snacks you always eat, and it would be just as sweet as they taste. Yet he doesn't- he's being oh so generous with you, letting you live beside him, keeping you as safe as he could at his side, never to let anything come close to you. You're his.

Jeon Jungkook is sick. But he's also head over heels in love with you.

You don't know what it was this time.

You only know that he's currently in your shared apartment, having returned from Job hunting, and by the sounds of crashing glass, he's probably having another one of those days. You know you should just leave him, but ever so often your own curiosity gets the best of you, and you sit up on the bed, dressed in nothing but a shirt, your panties, and socks to keep your feet warm, since the heating in your apartment broke months ago. You carefully open the bedroom door, peaking around the wood to spot him as he currently kicks his shoes off in an ever so violent manner. He spots you, eyes dark and feral, but this time it's not lust in them. "Get back inside." He barks out, and you know why he does it.

He wants to keep you safe.

Against all odds he knows what he is. He knows he's sick, knows he's a danger to himself and others, and that's why he's always telling you to stay away from him whenever his anger is boiling over like this. It's his way of keeping you safe, keeping you protected and you know better than to go against his own judgement. He knows himself best, after all.

Only as you can hear him hiss in pain do you go against him.

As the apartment grows quiet, you slowly step outside the room again, eyes searching for the form of your boyfriend, before finally spotting him near the kitchen table, one hand on it, while the other is held close to his chest. You can see blood on the white cracked tiled floor close to him, and you immediately grow worried for him. You slowly creep inside the bathroom, retrieving some stuff from the first aid kit, as you walk back outside, spotting him on the couch now. "..kookie?" You carefully ask, wary of any signs of his body that he's not yet down to earth yet. But he doesn't move at all. You slowly walk around the couch, squatting down in front of him as your hands carefully reach out for his inked arm, and he lets you, his eyes eerily not looking at anything at all. You hiss a bit and sit down on his lap as he doesn't argue with you, almost delicately treating his wounded skin. He's probably somehow cut himself on the broken glass from the photo frame he broke. He seems awfully exhausted, which isn't a new sight to you. He usually is after a day like that.

"We're gonna loose the apartment." He says darkly, yet you don't stop what you're doing, simply humming an acknowledgement at him, while you don't look up at him. "Are you even listening?!" He suddenly barks out, grabbing your wrists as you look at him; not in fear however. You simply wait for him, like you always do, until he suddenly looks down onto his hands, letting go of your now red wrists with a look on his face like his favorite puppy has just been killed. "They simply said because of my criminal record they can't employ me-" He began, already getting riled up again as you kissed his cheek to distract him before he could slip again. With you situated on his lap like that, it could prove fatal.

"I'm gonna get a job, from home maybe. We'll figure things out." You softly say, and he doesn't seem like he quite believes you. He doesn't need to, at least not yet. It takes time, but you'll take yourself the time you need, even if its someone else's. Its not like he ever really cared about whats who's after all. "I still love you, you know?" You say, and that's when he breaks.

For the first time in those years you know him, he falls to the ground, crashes onto concrete with full force, and it wrecks through his entire body as he pulls you close, sobbing into your neck as he hiccups and chokes on his emotions, his hug painfully tight, but you don't complain. You're too shocked by his state to react much, other than running a hand over his back in a hopefully soothing manner. He doesn't stop for a moment, and you don't have a good feeling for time, so you cant tell how long you both sit like this, until he's finally exhausted to the point of simple slumping down, asleep as his body finally gives up. You carefully stand up, letting him somehow softly fall to his side as you struggle to pull his legs up to properly lay o the couch. Walking into the bedroom you retrieve blankets for him and yourself, as you crawl underneath his arm to lay against his chest, underneath the blankets, as you try and think of a way to help him.

You can't get a job. Not only because he won't let you, but because you get sick too easily. You're not allowed by doctors advice to work in any field that requires direct customer contact- and sadly that's all your educational level would allow you to work in. It never bothered Jungkook however, if anything he welcomed it as a good reason for you to stay at home, and at his side at all times. For him however, there were different reasons he didn't have a job. He couldn't keep one, with his short temper making him unfit for any job that required him to handle other people. He was a bomb ready to explode any moment at all times, and it was hard for him to land a job at any interview he somehow got. And nowadays, as word got around, no one simply wanted to employ him; stories of him going off at complaints and always being ready to throw hands made him the talk of the town in terms of who to look out for. He also had a criminal record- which didn't make the situation any easier.

Jeon Jungkook is sick. And it's a serious issue.

You somehow made it another month concerning rent.

With you selling some clothing you made yourself for a reasonable price, you somehow had at least a bit of an income, yet Jungkook didn't really seem like himself these days. He didn't leave the apartment much, and seemed much more grim to everything around him. You somehow thought that maybe he was just in a bad mood- but it seemed like this time things were a bit more serious than that.

"Princess?" He calls, as you rub your hand over the side of your neck, having laid on the couch weirdly as you had been taking a nap recently. You perked up at his call, walking out of the open kitchen to meet his gaze in the living room, his eyes serious as he pats his thighs; an invitation for you to sit down. He likes having you seated on his lap like this; it makes him feel all comfortable, knowing that you're so close to him. "I.." He starts, and visibly struggles with finding the right words for what he wants to say. "I want to get therapy." He states, and its quiet for a moment. You need to process his words for a second, as he never spoke about his issues like this. You never really thought about this option at all, and it makes you feel bad, deep inside, as you now realize that this was something you should've thought about as well, from the start on maybe. But you never wanted him to change for you; making you kick yourself in your thoughts. It never occurred to you that he wasn't changing for you, he didn't need to change for you, he needed to change for himself as well. You simply started to smile, and your arms snaked around his neck as he breathed in your scent, happy that you take this so well. He had struggled with the acceptance of it for a long time, and with you at his side, he knows he can somehow maybe change.

Even if its just a bit.

"I want to be a better man. For me, and mostly for you." He starts, and you attempt to speak, but he smiles, and kisses you instead, successfully shutting you up. "Don't say I don't need to. We know I do." He explains, and you nod. You're curious on why he suddenly realized it, but you decide not to dig too deep, as he currently seems vulnerable enough to you. So you simply let him hold you like this, quietly, calmly, while outside the thunderstorm continues, rain hitting the windows with as much force as the wind sees fit. Its ironic, really. Typically the situation is the opposite.

But somehow it feels like everything is changing, right in that moment. Just a few words have been spoken, but the ones that did make it out were a promise, a vow, a sentence of hope to finally get a hold on the future you both had dreamed about before, tangled in sheets and each others limbs. He's always said he wanted a family, as cheesy as it sounded to him back then, and then he'd laughed about it as if it was a joke. It somehow was, at least during that time it was; how could he be a better father than his if he was just the same? He didn't want his story to take a turn like that, to end up hurting you in the process of his own selfishness just to get what he wanted. No, he wanted something different in his life; he wanted his children to look up to him as a person they could be in awe of not because they were scared, but because they were proud to have them.

Jeon Jungkook is sick. But he's also finally realizing it.

Therapy never goes smoothly from A to point B. It's never a smooth ride, never a straight line connecting the start to the goal. And Jungkook is feeling that as he walks through the door, fuming after an in his eyes pointless session with his therapist. Why the fuck would they want to know about his childhood? That's his business and his own only, it doesn't concern anyone other than himself. Hell, he never even talked to you about it- and he sure as hell won't start chatting away with a stranger like this. He can't control himself as his fist connects with the wall next to the door, drywall cracking underneath the force as you stand in the middle of the living room, looking at him like a deer caught in the headlights. He's disappointed in himself in that moment; he was supposed to get better. He was supposed to have himself in check by now, it was supposed to end; yet here he is, just the same as a month before he started. You try and walk towards him, and he's ready to tell you to turn around and leave him alone, but he doesn't. For some reason, this is not pure anger he's feeling.

It's frustration.

And it leads to his eyes watering, as he lets you hold him close, your warm palms running over his back as best as you can with the height difference, and he simply lets his forehead rest on your shoulder, breathing while you softly count next to his ear. He concentrates and lets go of his emotions all at once, taking his time to feel them before he opens his mind up to letting them go. It sounded stupid to him when he was told that this could help him, but now that he's doing it, he gets why its being taught. It helps. Its like a bandaid being taken off after your cut has heeled. It hurts a bit as its being taken off, but the fresh air on the newly connected skin feels so good that the short sting before is more than worth it.

He sniffles, and you giggle, making him chuckle as well, as he runs a hand over your head, a silent sign that he's okay now. "Try again next week. You're doing so great now, Kookie." You say, and its this small encouragmenent that makes him grin brightly.

Because as you both stand in the kitchen, making homemade pizza for the first time in ages, he feels at ease with his surroundings. He calms down rather quickly even though some things don't go as planned, and laughs more freely at his own mistakes as you smile brightly at him. Sometimes you feel like crying, seeing him change like this, but you're strong enough to hold it in until he leaves during the day. You're still unsure how the future will be changing, still a lot unknown to the both of you, but for now, you'll continue to keep each others heads above the waves with your sewing, while he does his best at getting better. You know he can make it, you're certain he can, and will.

Because Jungkook is sick. But he's finally getting help.

You don't know what has happened when he bursts through the door, uncaring to either take off his shoes nor to close it behind him, as he picks you up, spins you around, grinning so much his eyes crinkle at their sides, and you laugh, even though you don't know why he's so happy. "I got a job! Baby, I finally got a job!" He yells, screams almost, and it makes your eyes water; not because he's taking a huge weight off your shoulder, but because this has been one of his biggest goals ever since he started this journey of getting help. He's so happy about it that this time you can't keep it in, you can't stop the tears as they flow out, making you hiccup and wheep into his shoulder as you struggle to get your words out. "Baby- Princess, hey hey-" He says, setting you down as his hands wipe away at your eyes, the letter confirming his acceptance still in his left hand as he worriedly looks at you. "Why are you crying angel? hm?" He cooes, admittedly a bit amused, because he can imagine what's happening.

"I'm so happy!" You squeeze out, before another wave hits you, and he kneels down, holding you tightly again, as he doesn't let go of you, his love for you overflowing inside his veins as it fills his entire body. He's so thankful for your existence in his life, and he will never be truly able to properly tell you that. It's impossible to put it into his words how much he appreciates you staying at his side through this entire endeavor. Every time he's asked why he does this, his answer is always your name on his lips, always spoken with a slight smile, nowadays a bright grin he's not ashamed showing.

You don't let him go until he chuckles. "Will you let me close the door at least?" He asks amused, as he feels the slightly cool breeze coming inside from the complex' hallway. You disconnect yourself from him for a moment, wiping your eyes with your sleeve as he closes the door, finally taking off his shoes at last, as he walks back, running towards you with a playful growl that makes you laugh as you try and run away from him. But he catches you easily, carrying you over his shoulder into the bedroom, where he bites and licks at your neck, hands pinching your sides making you squirm around and laugh, desperately trying to get away from him. He'll never let you, and you know this, so its unsurprising that he's suddenly pulling your sweater over your head, needing to be close to you. It's cold inside the apartment, and you shiver as the almost icy air around you nips at your skin. "Can't wait until we can use the heating again.." He murmurs against your skin as he shifts around a bit, carefully undressing himself before he crawls underneath the heavy covers with you. "then you can flaunt around in your pretty underwear all day without getting cold." He chuckles, as you hit his chest playfully at the remark. "What? Its always so cold I never get to see you in it." He whines, as he reaches between your legs, inked hand easily working you up as you squirm around. "I never get to see your pretty body properly because we have to hide away like this." He complains, and you simply whine at him, as he suddenly enters you. "For now I'll just warm you up like this, hm?" He humms out, and you nod, not really understanding what you're agreeing to, but you do it anyways.

He's awfully slow and soft, you notice, as he' way more collected as usual. "I love this." He suddenly presses out, eyes closed in bliss as he kisses the side if your neck, trailing down to nip at your collarbone, while his hands find yours, intertwining your fingers in a gesture you can only describe as awfully romantic. "I love being able to make love to you." He explains, as you open your eyes a bit, meeting his as he watches you underneath him. "Though I think you don't mind me being a bit rough with you, no?" He playfully suggests, and your cheeks grow a bit red at that, before he laughs, head dipping down to properly kiss your lips, tongue instantly searching for entrance as he doesn't pick up the pace. "Can't wait until you're all round with my baby." He suddenly suggests, and your eyes open wide as you open your mouth to correct him, but you shut up as his eyes meet yours, determination in them as he suddenly grabs the behind of your thighs, positioning them a bit differently to hit even deeper. "I know, I know-" He chants, as he picks up his pace. "I don't care." He presses out between his own heavy breaths. "I'll just-" He begins, loving the way you mewl under his touch, "I'll just fuck you over and over again until it works." He promises, and you simply nod, unable to deny him. The chances you'll ever conceive are slim- but as he states, never zero. "I'll just- I'll just fill you up until your body can't help but give me a child." He muses, as you start to clench. And he knows, notices, how much this idea is just as enticing to you as it is to him. "You gonna cum? Hm?" He asks, and you nod vigorously before you arch your back off the mattress, making him groan as he shoots his load as well, the visual image of your pleasure underneath him combined with the way you clench his aching length inside granting him his release as well.

As you lay on your sides, all snuggled up underneath the covers after cleaning up, he kisses your bare shoulder, eyes closed. "I mean it, you know." He says, and you humm a reply, before he explains further. "I want a family with you. Someday. When I'm ready." He says, and you nod. You'll somehow make it work, you know this. If he can overcome his demons, you can overcome your own cursed body as well. You deeply hope, at least.

Because Jeon Jungkook is sick, but he's starting to see a future.

"Jeon!" His coworker yells in the big hall he's working in. "Why, pray tell, did you never tell us your girl is that fucking pretty, aye?" He barks in a playful manner, as you walk inside beside the old man, carrying a small plastic bag with what he assumes is a lunchbox. The view of you next to that man stirs something inside him, as he slowly gets up, wrench still in his hand, brows furrowed.

"Because your filthy hands should stay six feet away from her." He responds, with his brows still furrowed, before he finally sneezes.

"Bless you, hah! I'll let you have your break earlier-" The old man winks at you, then gives Jungkook a firm hit against the chest, taking the wrench away from him. "But only because she's cute!" He laughs, as he walks into the hall, Jungkook now walking towards you.

You're proud of him.

Months ago, this would've never been possible; neither the simple fact that he had a job, nor the small incident with his coworker just now. He still got easily irritated, but he worked through these emotions way more easy nowadays. His coworkers and boss know of his past, know what he was like and know that he's still deep in therapy, but they don't judge. They simply accept him, tame him back into his cage whenever he's close to boiling over again. You love the fact that you can walk inside the breakroom with him, eyes sparkling with newfound childish playfulness as he peaks inside the bag you brought him. He's still very careful with you leaving the house, but its not anymore just for his own gain- he's more open to his surroundings, he's starting to think about how he and his actions can affect others. He doesn't care much still; but he's realized that pretending is enough for now. Small steps.

"The handyman was there today." You say, as you watch him dig into the fried rice you brought him, his interest now gained. "They turned on the heating again. Can you imagine? I didn't even know we had floorboard heating!" You exclaimed excitedly, and Jungkooks eyes widen as well.

"Really? I didn't know either. Fuck, can't wait to come home now." He says, swallowing his bite before taking a sip of his canned soda. "Did that label contact you yet?" He asks, and you shake your head. Recently, you had gained the interest of a bigger clothing label, who wanted to collaborate with you for this season's designs. "Ah, that takes time I guess. We'll wait, its fine." You know he's not only saying that for you, but himself as well. He still gets agitated over small things, but he deals with them a bit more easily. "I'll be home in a couple hours. Do you wanna wait here, or go home?" He asks, and you stand up, packing his now empty food container as you smile.

"I'll take the bus, don't worry." You say, and he furrows his brows playfully.

"Mask?" He asks, and you hold it up proudly, well aware of the precautions you need to take to make public transport safe for you.

"Good girl. Text me when you're home yeah? I'll get us takeout for dinner." He says, as he kisses the top of your head. You nod, and wave him goodbye as you two go separate ways, at least for now, until he's finally free of work.

Jeon Jungkook is sick.

But he's slowly healing.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts smut #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions #dom!jungkook #dom jungkook #Bad Habits!AU

[ashintheairlikesnow]

For Kauri and Chris: it doesn't work as well as you hoped, does it?

(follows Time Apart)

CW: Former pet whumpee, past noncon references, fucky headspace around consent and SERIOUSLY misconstrued response to assault, some hardcore angst going on here, internalized victim-blaming

Chris feels fingers move through his hair, gently sweeping the shaggy copper to one side, and opens his eyes to see Kauri leaning over him. His wide blue eyes are warm, understanding.

"I saw Laken leave," Kauri says, gentle, and sits next to where Chris has curled up on his side on his bed. His fingers continue to run through Chris's hair, tingling over his scalp, a soft and subtle reassurance, words he doesn't have to hear. You are good, you are a good boy. "You want to tell me what happened?"

Chris closes his eyes again, turning his face to his sheets, to the faint scent of laundry detergent and the soft rustle of them against his skin. He tries not to see Laken's face, reddened and wet with tears, as they walked away. "We, we broke up."

Kauri's fingers pause - and then start up again, the moment so barely-there that even Chris almost misses it. "You broke up? Did they break up with you, or you with them?"

"Um. I, I, I thought they broke up with, um, with with me but then when they came over, they hadn't? But we just-... I, I broke... I broke up with them." His voice trembles, throat threatening to close up around the words, and he exhales, rocking himself forward and back where he lays, rubbing his hands reflexively over the seams of his pants, seeking out the soothing feeling of the texture there. "I told them I, I, I can't be with them anymore. I made them go."

This can't be the end, Chris. Not like this. Laken looked like he'd slapped them, their face pale and red both at once, eyes wide, dark pools demanding he take it back. This can't be the end of the line for us.

Then, then, then what is? Just, just go. I don't-... I don't, don't, don't want this any longer, for you. You shouldn't-... I, I, I'm... just go home, Laken. You shouldn't, shouldn't have, have wanted a whore anyway.

Chris. You know you're not-

I know I am! I, I, I almost had-... I almost-... I almost cheated on you last night!

Laken had swallowed, lips barely moving. You what?

I let, I, I, I let someone touch me, and it felt good, you know? It felt good. I, I, I got-... I, I got turned on by it. Like a fucking- He'd heard Handler Petrus in his mind, felt him against his back, the weight and heat of him, whispering into his ear while he sobbed. I'm still just a fucking slut. I'm, I'm, I'm still what I was, and it won't ever stop and-... just fucking go, Laken! Just get out and, and, and and and and-... and, and-

Chris, please-

Just fucking go home!

Chris-... baby, god damn it, I don't care if you-

But I do! Get the fuck away from me!

They'd left. Chris had listened to their footsteps running down the stairs and out the door, heard their car pull out of the driveway, and he'd cried into his pillow until it was damp, until he couldn't hear their car any longer. His phone buzzed twice, a text from Ben and another one from Akio, but he didn't answer.

He didn't answer when they called after that.

He didn't answer Jake calling to him from downstairs, he didn't answer Antoni in the doorway, he didn't answer any of them at all. He just stayed right here, on his bed, and knocked his head into a pillow he held against the wall until he calmed down enough to stop.

And then he cried more.

His head pounds, a dull throb, and he feels dried out from all the tears. Like he'd been crusted with salt, like his professor who told the story about Lot's wife and Orpheus and Eurydice. Don't look back or you'll turn to salt, you'll go back down into the empty places alone.

He can't not look back.

He groans, smacking himself on the thighs reflexively, repeatedly, as if he can stop his thoughts that way.

Kauri doesn't try to stop him, only pulls his hand back to give Chris the space to move. "Did you want to break up with them?" He asks, simply. His voice is calm.

"No. Yes. I, I don't know." The seams of his pants aren't enough, and Chris breathes against the sense of a chaos inside of himself, a swirling mix of self-hatred and grief. His hands move up to tap on his stomach. Finger-twist-tap-tap-tap. It doesn't help as much as he needs it to. "I didn't... want them to, to, to have to be with me."

"I think Laken is capable of making that choice for themself." Kauri sits slowly back against the headboard, breathing out, his eyes moving over the messy contents of the bedroom. The pictures Chris has taped haphazardly up on the walls, the shelf with his stim toys on it, his computer on the desk half-buried in a pile of clean clothes he hasn't folded. "If they want to be with you, that's their decision. Do you want to be with them?"

Chris wants to say yes, but the word sticks in his throat. His heart pounds inside him, all out of rhythm. He just nods against his sheets, and feels Kauri brush fingers through his hair again. "But, but, but, but I'm, I'm not worth it, I'm t-too hard, I'm still a, a, a pet too much."

There's a silence. Then, "Is that what you really think?"

He'd love to be able to say no. He'd love to be able to say he's being dramatic. But instead, in a small, soft voice, Chris whispers, "I just. I just. I, I, I don't know a-any-anymore. I... Yes."

Kauri is quiet, and then his hands are on Chris's face, wiping away with his thumb a tear Chris hadn't even realized had escaped. Chris had flinched from the same gesture when Laken did it, but he holds for Kauri.

"Oh, honey. I used to think that, too." Kauri sighs, and Chris opens his eyes, looking up at him, seeing a faraway expression.

He shifts, moving to rest his head on Kauri's thigh, a silent request for the petting through his hair to begin again.

Kauri smiles, a little faintly, a little sad. His fingers move over Chris's scalp, settle over the top of his scar, start again. "I did that for years, Chris. I told myself I was a pet, just another Romantic, that I deserved everything I did to myself and I didn't deserve anything better. I woke up in alleyways and on park benches and sometimes in the beds of guys I couldn't remember meeting. I got... I got hurt by some of them, and I told myself it was what I wanted. I got drugged a few times, I drugged myself a bunch more. I tried to make myself not want to be cared about anymore."

Chris thinks about the taste of gin and olives down his throat, throwing back dirty martinis until he threw them back up again, until he couldn't stop hearing Sir's voice inside his head, feeling his lips against the back of his neck. Hands on his hips, phantom ghost touch, moving him into position.

"It... didn't work as well as I'd hoped. Every time I told myself I didn't deserve love, even when I believed it... that didn't mean I didn't still want it. Need it, even. But I wanted, so badly-..." Kauri's voice catches, and his eyes close, briefly, as he steadies himself. "I wanted to make sure everyone around me hated me as much as I hated myself. But God, Chris, it hurts so much to live that way. Don't... don't be like me. It took me years to realize I didn't deserve that pain, that I didn't deserve to be punished for leaving Owen."

Chris is silent, now. Kauri's voice is always almost hypnotizing, deep and a little melodic, and it settles some of the buzzing awful noise inside of him.

"I had to learn-... to accept... that what happened to me makes up a lot of who I am, because it was the thing that made me, but it isn't all of who I am. And if I keep repeating the patterns I came up with to protect myself... I'm not really protecting myself at all." Kauri smiles, a little. "I'm only laying siege to myself, and I'm the only one who starves inside the walls. I-... I built those walls, and Jake kept trying to knock them down, and I kept building them higher. And Nat would throw food over the wall, and I'd throw it back. And... I think I got a little off track. My point is that... is that I shattered myself, over and over again, because shattered is what I was taught to be. But eventually I had to admit that breaking myself into pieces was just cutting me up, not anyone else. Do you understand?"

Chris swallows, his throat opening a little bit, and he hums. Kauri's leg is warm against his ear and his cheek, his hand is warm over his hair. Chris grips onto the silicone feather he wears always on a cord around his neck and runs it over his lips, feeling the carved vanes move against thin, sensitive skin. "Kind of."

"You try to see the light in everything," Kauri says, and the love in his voice makes Chris smile despite all his pain. "That's always been what made you stronger than me, Chris. You saw the world as full of good things you were here to discover. You never hated yourself like I did. I don't want you to start now."

"How... how did you, um, did you learn to to to stop?"

Another long exhale. Outside, two birds are singing in the trees. "Time, mostly," Kauri says, finally. "And... that guy I went home with once, when I came back all... fucked up. Remember that?"

"Y, yeah."

"I realized... I realized, when Jake was helping me up the stairs, that every time I tried to push him away, he was still there. And every time I hurt him, or Nat, or Antoni, they were still there. And that you were-... you were so new, Chris, and I was teaching you this really awful idea that you can't get better, and I couldn't do that any longer. I couldn't. It's not instant, and there are backslides, and some days getting out of bed is the hardest thing I've ever done. But I do, because I love the life I've made, and I know you love yours. You worked so hard for this, Chris, for everything you are and you've done since you came to live with Nat. Don't give that up because... because you're struggling. Don't let them win by convincing you you can't be anything else."

"I'm so-... it feels like a shell," Chris says, and pushes himself up to sitting, legs out to one side, tucking his head into the crook of Kauri's neck. The older man's arms move around his waist, holding him close, one hand moving up to keep stroking through his hair as he bites down on the feather, chewing on the familiar plastic. "Like I, I, I built a shell, and when Nova-... it cracked."

"Yeah. I know how that feels." Kauri turns his head, pressing a kiss to the top of Chris's hair, easy and comfortable. Chris hums around his feather, rocking just a little. The rising tide of grief inside him threatens to become a wave he can't withstand. He pushed Laken away, too far away, he made them leave him.

He broke up with them.

He made them go.

He can't take that back.

"Listen to me," Kauri whispers, lips against his scalp. "When I was at my lowest, when I hated myself the most, when I demanded Jake abandon me to what I kept telling myself I wanted... he didn't. He was still there. He was still there, and even if we weren't going to be together, he was still willing to help me stand up as a friend. When I was nothing but pieces drawing blood, he still loved me. He loved the pieces as much as the person, and he helped me put myself back together. It's not perfect. It's not overnight. And you'll still have hard days. But it's worth it, Chris."

"Why? Why, why, why is it worth it?"

"Because the world is beautiful," Kauri says, repeating his own long-ago words back to him, and Chris almost smiles. "Because I love the world, now, Chris, and I decided to try as hard as I can to love myself. I learned that from you."

"What if-... what if, if, if it's too late? What if I can't t-talk to them, or-"

"Then we'll stand you back up from there, and start moving forward again. You'll never lose us, we're family, Chris. But I think you should talk to Laken, and tell them what you're feeling, and let them decide how to react instead of deciding for them. They love you." Kauri puts a hand under his chin and lifts it, so their eyes meet. "Let them love you hurting just as much as they do when you're not."

"What if I don't... want to try any longer?"

"Then we'll be here to help you through that, too. All of it. Any of it. For better or worse, Chris, I'm your big brother - and so is Jake, and so is Antoni - and you're stuck with us whether you like it or not."

Chris tucks his head back down so Kauri can't see the tears well back up and run down, even as they soak into his shirt. His teeth grind down on the silicone plastic between them.

"I, I, I fucked up, Kauri," he whimpers, and then starts to sob. "I didn't-... I, I, I just don't w-want to be in m-my body anymore..."

Kauri holds him close.

"I h-hate it, I hate it, I hate it," Chris wails, and Kauri rests his chin on Chris's head and lets him cry. "I hate being p-pretty, I hate my, my, my, I hate that they made my body like this, I hate that I g-get scared and and and, and, and I can't stop things from happening to me, I h-hate that I hurt Laken, I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it!"

"I know," Kauri whispers. "I know, honey. I know."

"I h-hate myself-"

"Sssshhhh, I know."

Chris doesn't know how long he cries for.

But eventually he falls asleep in Kauri's arms.

-

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @whumpfigure @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears

Playlist for this piece:

Lewis Capaldi: Hold Me While You Wait Rob Thomas: Pieces Vienna Teng: Between Aerelie Brighton: Breathe Josh Ritter: Girl in the War Beth Crowley: Runaway Train

#whump #bbu #box boy universe #chris the strawberry blond romantic #erase to control #angst #angst angst angst #caretaker and whumpee #whumpee turned caretaker #recovering whumpee #past noncon references #ptsd tw #noncon survivor #internalized victim-blaming #references to assault #heavy angst #hurt/comfort #so much hurt though #emotional whump #trauma recovery tw #box boy