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#and bounce back with happiness and love for others because they NEVER want people in their same situation.
wifeyoozi · 5 months
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Jeon Wonwoo : zip it, strip it
w.c : 2.2 k ┊ synopsis : Wonwoo can't stand his roommate's progressively slutty online shipped clothes anymore┊ content warning : smut , friends to lovers, slight degradation (/slutshaming?) kink, unprotected sex (wrap the willy guys) , Lazada shopping , big dick wonu agenda , reader has slight size kink , oral + fingering (f rec)
a/n : mdni !! not completely beta read and still a little sloppy (the smut part) 😭
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Wonwoo knows he is losing his mind. And it was solely and entirely because of you.
You, his roommate, best friend, and for quite a while now, his one-sided love.
Wonwoo wasn't exactly the most extroverted person. So the way you two became friends was only because you had once stumbled whole ten minutes late to the lecture in your first year college days once, and sat beside him for it was the only empty seat. And somehow you had engaged him in a conversation. And then somehow you had started sitting beside him everyday for the next four years. And then somehow you had just embedded yourself in his life (and heart) like that.
The reason you two decided to get one apartment together was because how much money you could save from rent and groceries with that. And it be fun. Of course it was your idea and your words. But Wonwoo was a sucker in love and he'd blindly agreed for it.
It was a little awkward at first. You always tried to keep your stuff to yourself and not make a mess of the whole house and not indulge too much in Wonwoo's personal space, knowing he was the one who loved to keep to himself.
But the initial formalities wore off eventually. It started with forgetting a half empty coffee mug on the coffee table, no coaster. And then leaving your books on the couch, promising to pick up later to never really doing it. And then mixing your clothes with Wonwoo's in the laundry basket.
But Wonwoo didn't mind any of it.
All of it was just so ... Domestic.
It almost felt like he was married to you. And as much as he tried to stop himself from indulging too much in that thought, it always creeped back up in his mind everytime you fell asleep on his shoulder after your routines sunday movie nights.
His ears grew red everytime he thought of it - you as his wife, in your little home.
And that's the whole problem. You kept making him have fantasies about things he knew he could never have. But he just couldn’t stop.
His patience had really only been tested since very recently. You had recently come across Lazada - the wondrous online shopping platform for cheap and the poor people. “Look the prices are so less, wonu-ya! For a dress that cute!” you’d exclaimed that day, bouncing as you showed him the phone with the lazada tab opened,a cute pink floral summer dress on display. “And the first order has free shipping!”
A few dresses had arrived and wonwoo saw you try out the new clothes one after the other, most of them perfectly fitting your figure. He loved seeing you smile like that, happy over getting good quality clothes at a lower price.
The real problem arose now.
The summer was getting only hotter. And Lazada was on your head like a fever. And you kept ordering increasingly more and more revealing clothes now.
Wonwoo told himself he didn't mind. You were not his something. You were not together. He shouldn’t be deciding what you wear.
But he also felt his jaw tighten everytime he saw you in a new and a more revealing dress ordered online. Saw you twirl on your toes as your little summer skirt flared, showing the sight of your safety shorts inside. Saw you wear a tight thigh-length shiny party dress when you went clubbing with your friends. Saw you sit on the couch with all of your friends in short denim shorts, riding up and up as you sat in all inappropriate positions.
He’s been trying to hold his thoughts a lot, he really is. But he has got a little bit of a limit too, and he really just wants nothing more than to put his teeth on your thighs and your neck and mark them up red and blue. You really don’t know how much power you were holding onto him.
But thats not even all of it.
Since it was summer, you had decided to roam around the house in little satin negligees. Fucking negligees.
The first time you wore it, wonwoo had to stop breathing and take hold of every muscle in his body to not get embarrassingly hard in front of you. It was so tiny, it was just like a little piece of cloth clinging on you. You had given him a little twirl show, “isn’t it so cute? I love its pink colour so much!”
Wonwoo itched to tear the pretty pink off you.
He didn’t though. Because he had a little self-restrain left in him.
He wondered if you were really as innocent as you acted or did you know the effect you had on him. He was a man after all. He swears its like you know how big a crush he has on you. You are just playing with him too much.
Thankfully you didnt wear negligees more often after that, at least when he was at home.
Right now, wonwoo is opening the door to your apartment slowly. It's quite late, he doesn't want to wake you up accidentally.
“Wonu-ya!” you call out from inside your room, “Wonu-ya, ah, great you're home! Can you come in for a bit, please? I need some help.”
Wonwoo hums, taking off his bag on the couch and going inside your room to see what you possibly needed help with and-
His breath stopped, eyes dilating, starting to feel his pants tightening a little.
You were wearing a lacy sheer negligee. Again. And it was even more provocating than last time. It was a deep purple colour, contrasting perfectly with your pretty skin tone. Your bare back was completely exposed to him, your hair pulled aside over your shoulders and the dress completely unzipped. You were looking back at him, a hand reaching back in a way that your pose wasn’t helping making it any less provocating. Your legs were slightly spread on the bed, your silky thighs on perfect view for him with your night shorts fitting you like underwear.
“Wonu-ya, can you help me zip? I can’t reach it!” you pout at him, your lips looking glossed up and puckered out and he wanted nothing more than kiss and bite them red.
No way he was misinterpreting this, no way you were not doing this on purpose.
“y/n, do you realise i am a man?” he wasn’t growling, but he was holding the urge of it.
“Hm, i know,” you say, looking at him with big not-so-innocent eyes, “but i trust you!”
So wonwoo gulps down, and sits behind you on the bed, beginning to zip your dress up. The lace hugs you tighter as he does, highlighting your delicate curves and features. You feel so small under his dark gaze, his big hands could hold the entirety of your waist. He can see your colourbones from this angle and he just wants to bite and kiss all over them so bad.
He unknowingly rests his hands on the curve of your back. His heart is beating loudly, he could feel it in his ears. You lean back into his touch like a satisfied cat.
“y/n,” his voice is angry and restrained, “what are you trying to do?”
You sigh, looking back at him, your gaze seductive from under your dark lashes, “are you really asking? Do i have to say it out for you?”
The grip on your hips tightens. “Are you sure about it?”
More and more you act up like this, more and more he feels like a lusty caveman with no coherent thoughts in his mind other than those of desire. He took a heavy breath as you twisted your your waist to look back at him, your hand snaking up to rest on his chest. He glanced down at your hand, and then involuntarily at your cleavage visible from the thing your call a dress.
“Oh, for fucks sake, Wonwoo, I have not been whoring myself out like this for you to not fuck me!”
“Mark your words,” that was the last sane thing Wonwoo would speak that night before crashing his lips with yours.
You moaned immediately, feeling his rough lips fight against your softer ones. You climbed on his lap, feeling his hardness pushing against your thighs immediately. He kisses you intensely and aggressively, his teeth grazing against your lower lip. His mind was fogging up, intoxicated by your taste. Your strawberry lip gloss was on his lips and on his tongue and your arms were tight around his neck, one hand tangled in his hair, playing and pulling it.
The more sounds you made into the kiss, the harder his bulge pressed against you. You pull away momentarily, catching your breath and panting. His glasses were fogged up.
“Shit, Wonwoo, what fucking monster are hiding in those pants,” you mumbled, looking down to his crotch and reaching to touch him, but he holds your wrist before you could.
“You did this to me, baby,” he said, pulling off his glasses, not caring to even see where he threw them, “and I'm gonna make you take care of it.”
You knew how strong Wonwoo was just by looking at his big and built body. But you didn't realise how much that would help making you wetter as he manhandled you and pinned you down on the bed. Both of his knees encaged your hips, as he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off swiftly.
You chest faltered looking at his gorgeous body. It's not the first time you had seen him shirtless - y'all have had enough beach trips in your friendship for that. But this was different, you could thirst over him now, touch him and feel him up. Besides, he'd built up so much more than when you had last seen his naked torso the time y'all went to pool together.
You mumbled a fuck under your breath, your hand reaching to touch his abs. He chuckled. “Like what you see, huh?”,
Wonwoo doesn't give you a chance to answer, holds your wrist down and hold you down as he attacked your lips with his once again. You whined in his mouth, and that just made him kiss you deeper, hotter, wetter. His kisses went south to your jaw, down your neck. He nipped on the sweet skin of the crook of your neck, sucking and biting and bruising it. Marking it. Marking you.
His hands left your wrists to travel across your body, slipping under your dress and touching your warm waist. His hands are cold against your skin. You hear a tssrrt, and you look down to see Wonwoo ripping off your slip dress, and pulling it apart to expose your bare breasts to the cold air.
He tears apart from neck to look at your tits, and you feel your nipples harden under his gaze. He licks his lips vilely, before grabbing your boobs in his hands. He shoved his face in between the valley of your boobs, taking a breath full of your scent there before taking out his tongue and devouring you like a starved animal.
He looked up at you like that.
And his once so innocently handsome face looking so damn sinful right now, his eyes staring at your with deep lust. “I can't even count the number of times I've secretly oggled at these beautiful things, wanting to do all the ungodly stuff with them. Fuck, y/n.”
You moaned as he took your right nipple in his mouth, sucking harshly as his hands reach to play with your left. Your hands snake up his hair, clutching a handful, tugging it.
You gasp when his hand suddenly slipped down your shorts and panties, touching the skin right above your cunt. “shit, wonu!”
“Fucking slut,” Wonwoo mumbled against your skin, “making me desperate for you for so long, just because you're a cockslut.”
“Only for you,” you mutter under your breath, as Wonwoo's fingers inch downwards.
Wonwoo chuckles, “say that again, baby,”
“I am only your cockslut, Wonwoo,” you said, face red with shame and lust.
Wonwoo chuckled more as he dipped his fingers between your folds at those words. You let out a loud and erotic moan, legs clenching reflexively. Wonwoo played around the sensitive skin for a while before he found the throbbing bundle of nerves which got him the reaction from you which he was waiting for.
His fingers continued to rub over your clit in circular motion, lips moving downwards to kiss and lick and nipples at the skin of your belly. He managed to make the entirety of your torso cover in his spit in absolutely no time. “Lift, babe."
He pulled your shorts and your panties off your legs in one swift motion. Your legs shyly closed instinctively, but Wonwoo spread them back apart by you knees, “oh, you're shy now?”
He didn't expect a reply, diving into the heat between your legs. He kisses your inner thighs and your outer folds and gave your clitoris a few kitten licks, making you moan like a bitch in heat. He shoved his tongue in your hole, licking up your juices like a starved child.
“Fuck, you're so damn tasty, my love,” he mumbles as he explores your cunt with his tongue. You yelp at how deep his tongue reaches inside you, tickling against your g-spot.
You pull his face away with all of your strength when you feel the tension in your lower abdomen starting to build, “fuck, wonu stop,”
He stops immediately, looking up at you with concern for second, “shit, baby, I'm sorry, did i overstep-”
“No,” you interrupt, too desperate, “no, wonu. I, uh, i am close, but I don't wanna cum like this,” you say shyly, watching the concern in Wonwoo's eyes turn into the dark lust again, “fuck, I want to cum on your cock, Wonwoo.”
Wonwoo smirked. “Scared me there, baby, and all for a cock? You want my cock, yeah? I'll give you some.” Wonwoo unzipped his jeans and wriggled out of them and his boxers, freeing his red angry cock which slapped against his toned stomach.
Your mouth watered at the sight. You just didn't happen to be kidding when you called that thing a fucking monster. You reached out to touch it but he slapped your hand away. Wonwoo pumped his dick a few times, coating it with your slick on his fingers, before lining it with your hole, wasting no time.
He trusted in deep, making you let out a choked sound. You winced at the initial sting as Wonwoo waited a second in you to let you get used to his size. He pulled out slowly, leaving only his top inside, before hammering back in, making you moan again.
He did it a few times before catching a stable pace, and you felt the coil in your stomach form again already. “ahh, wonu, need you to touch me,”
“Shit, nothing is ever enough for you, is it? Always begging and whining for more,” Wonwoo said, marking his sentence with a slap on your thighs before reaching his fingers to play with your clit, flickering and fondling it between his index and middle.
He bent down to kiss you again. You grabbed his broad muscular shoulders, your nails digging in as you reached nearer to your climax. It seemed so did Wonwoo, by the way his breath hitched in your mouth.
“Fuck, princess, where do I come?” Wonwoo muttered in your mouth.
You grabbed onto him tightly, legs squealing his hips as you were just on the book, “inside me? You could do that, I have the morning-after pills.”
You feel Wonwoo hum in your mouth as he increased his pace again, chasing both your orgasms.
You reach your high first, vision whitening and body going limp at the sensation, feeling the happy harmones release in your veins. Wonwoo comes soon after - you involuntarily spasming around his dick giving just the right amount of stimuli for him to cum deep in you, his semen hot inside.
He pulled out, hissing a little, and fell on the bed beside you. You rolled over lazily by his side, dumping your arm around his chest and resting your head on his shoulder. He scoots closer, cuddling you in.
“Shit, that was so…” you didn't even have enough words to describe a sex that good.
Wonwoo chuckled a little. “I tore your new dress, sorry for that.”
“Don't worry about it,” you giggle, “Lazada has a new sale coming. I'll buy many more for you to tear in the future.”
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chaostudee · 2 months
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ferrari part two , charles leclerc
summary : y/n is touring her new album whilst charles is fighting for the championship yet they still find the time to support one another. warnings : none a/n : you can read this as a standalone but if you want here is part 1.
y/nusername night 42 in los angeles last night, love you all dearly. can't believe that the next show is our last one 😭😭 these past few months have been the best of my life and i'm not ready for it to end. anyways next week las vegas <3
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liked by charlesleclerc, larray , sabrinacarpenter and 3,910,919 others.
user9229 okay charles i get it
y/nloverr you were amazing literally best night of my lifeee
charlesleclerc my pretty girl
y/nusername my pretty boy <3
f1fan_891 now that i've heard ferrari live i can finally die happy
sabrinacarpenter forever in awe of you
landonorris can't wait for this tour to end, acc can't bear listening to charles whining about how much he misses you 🙄
kikagomez my stunning bsf <3
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charlesleclerc disappointing day for me after a dnf after the first lap because of engine difficulties but well done to carlos for earning some well needed points. on to las vegas next.
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liked by y/nusername, carlossainz, landonorris and 5,820,001 others.
user9292 charlos forever ❤️
f1fan we love you charlesss
carlossainz we'll bounce back stronger 💪
y/nusername ily
charlesleclerc ily more angel
f1wagupdates i need y/n and charles to reunite already plsss i miss my parents
landonorris sorry mate but thanks for the free position :)
charlesleclerc i-
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y/nusername guess where i'm heading???
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》 user929 OMG ARE MY PARENTS ABOUT TO BE REUNITED
》 f1fan OMG OMG
》 y/nmyfave SCREAMING
》 kikagomez wish you were coming to see me :,(
》 y/nusername immm sryyy we have to meet up soon
charlesleclerc
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y/nusername recharing with ml before las vegas.
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liked by charlesleclerc, kikagomez, gracieabrams and 3,920,720 others.
gracieabrams why are you guys acc the cutest tf
kikagomez parentssss
y/nusername me with you and pierre
user929 i love them more than my own parents
f1fan oh that's not- user929 but in the sense that-
f1wagupdates yayyy finally something for me to post :)
y/nusername
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y/nusername tonight was the best and worst. the best because i got to spend it with my bestfriends and the worst because now it's time to say goodbye. this tour has changed my life and has helped me through rough times, i hope it did the same for you <3. i want to say and thank you to my team, all the people behind the scenes and especially to you my fans (my bffs). lastly i want to thank the most important person in my life @charlesleclerc, i love you dearly and your endless support for me makes me fall in love with you more everyday. you are my whole world forever. forever and always.
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liked by charlesleclerc, nicsturniolo, sabrinacarpenter and 5,910,929 others.
*comments on this post are turned off*
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y/nusername pookie is looking fire tonight 🔥
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》 charlesleclerc pookie looks fire all the time*
》 y/nusername true
》 user111 the way he looks at herrrr god he's so in love
》 f1fan ugh get married already
charlesleclerc great race today, definetly think that this was because of my lucky charm @y/nusername.
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liked by y/nusername, maxverstappen, carlossainz and 6,199,810 others.
y/nusername so fucking proud of you <3
liked by charlesleclerc
maxverstappen great race man
charlesleclerc you too mate justaninchident they are never beating the lestappen allegations.
carlossainz manifesting a charlos podium for the next race 🤞
user920 yayyyyy charles back on the podium
taglist ⭑.ᐟ
@lottalove4evelyn
@sweetestgirlintown111
@mxryxmfooty
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toruro · 1 year
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— ✧ the cake in the back
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pairing. choi seungcheol x reader
description. cheol is a regular at your bakery, and it's all because his son loves the banana bread you make—at least that's what he tells himself. it also doesn't hurt that you're cute. and polite. and totally someone he'd like to fuck.
genre. smut, fluff
tags. rich dilf cheol, bakery owner reader, or4l (f receiving), car s3x, kitchen s3x, pet names (angel), cr3ampi3, aprons ... hehe
w/c. 3.8k+
a/n. IGNORE THE TITLE OKAY I THOUGHT IT WAS FUNNY. look i know it's corny and i literally am writing this on a whim but happy father's day
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"soobin's not with you today?" your voice is cheery and gentle when you greet your regular.
mr. choi smiles and shakes his head. "shocking, i know," he laughs in that deep and velvety tone that has you bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet out of pure giddiness.
"a pleasant surprise," you reply, putting on some gloves as mr. choi approaches the counter. it's near closing, and it's around that time of day where people usually don't come in as much, so you've been alone and just cleaning up the space yourself. "what can i get you, mr. choi?"
the handsome man chuckles, flicking his wrist as he pushes some hair back, the reflective surface of his wrist watch (that you definitely don't want to know the price of because it might just make you pass out) glinting under your bakery's warm lights. "thought i told you to stop calling me that. seungcheol is much better considering ..." he searches for the words for a moment. "... we see each other so regularly," he concludes.
"i've got to maintain some level of professionalism, don't you agree, mr. choi?" you tease. "the regular, i'm assuming? two banana breads?"
"you already know it."
grinning, you nod and pull up a box. "how's soobin? i haven't seen him or you in a while. i'm starting to miss my favorite customer."
"i'm sure soobin would be flattered to hear that. he's doing well, i couldn't bring him today since he's got a swimming class this evening," seungcheol explains, pulling out his wallet that's donned in some brand name that looks so expensive you don't even know how to pronounce it. you move down the counter grab some of the bread which is on your far left, and he walks down on the other side to match you, keeping up the conversation.
"ah yes. he seems to be around that age to start learning. better now than never, honestly. my younger brother didn't learn until he was older and it did not seem easy," you say with a giggle, bringing out the tongs to grab two small loaves.
seungcheol nods in agreement. "that, and i'm planning on taking the two of us on a vacation spot in a few months ... not sure where yet, but soobin's been wanting to go to a beach location for ages," he tells you, and your heart swells.
the image of soobin and seungcheol, goofing around on a beach send a warm feeling through your body. it's also maybe an added plus that there's a flicker in your mind of what seungcheol would look like in nothing but swim trunks, skin shining from the water under the beaming sun, dark hair splayed across his forehead.
you wonder what he's hiding beneath that plain, beige t-shirt of his. his arms are somewhat exposed, and from just the little bit of muscle that peeks out and flexes when he moves around, you think you can safely assume he's got much more going on in the places where your eyes can't reach.
realizing he's still right in front of you, you blink down hard as an attempt to pull yourself back into reality, eyes flickering up at the handsome man in front of you.
"s-sounds fun," you say honestly, packing the bread and handing it to him over the counter. in this moment, seungcheol catches sight of the apron you've got on. it's light pink and hugs your figure so nicely, he can't help but comment on it.
"new apron, huh?"
shyly, you look down and nod. you hadn't expected him to notice. "uh, yeah. my employees got it for me as a birthday gift, actually."
seungcheol furrows his brows as he hands you his card so you can charge him. "it's cute. was your birthday, um, recent?"
you nod casually, tapping at your machine for a second before handing back his card, trying to ignore the way his comment first comment has your stomach flipping and flopping around. "yeah, it was a few days ago."
"i'm sorry, i didn't know," he says sincerely, causing you to frown.
"hey, don't worry about it. it's not something i expect my customers to know and—"
"let me treat you to something," seungcheol says abruptly, cutting you off mid-sentence. he realizes after that it's a bit rude, but something about the way you brush him off as just a customer makes him feel the need to prove you wrong.
"i—i'm sorry?" you ask, and for a moment seungcheol almost mistakes your confusion for apprehension, but then he drinks in the way you look up at him curiously, lips slightly parted, and he relaxes.
"you're closing soon, right? let me ... treat you to something," he repeats. "a coffee or something, if you don't mind."
"oh, i can't possibly impose like that, especially when you've got to pick up soobin and—"
"i wouldn't be offering if you were imposing. he's getting picked up by my friend anyways—his son and soobin are going to have a play date and stuff and—" he's rambling, seungcheol knows that, but he can't seem to care. "basically what i'm saying is you don't have to worry about that. seriously. wait—not that i'm forcing you. you can totally say no, i just ..." he sighs, "don't want you to say no because you think you'll be imposing. 'cause you won't be."
when you smile brightly up at him, eyes glittering and laugh cheery, a wave of relief washes over seungcheol. "i—thank you for the reassurance. i'd love to get coffee, but i do have around twenty more minutes before closing and i still have some stuff i need to clean up and i'm not sure if you—"
"i'll wait." he pauses, then adds, "and help."
you're a bit apprehensive at first—a customer helping you out with closing? but you're quick to learn that once cheol has his mind set on something, it isn't the easiest to pull him away from it—and right now cheol is determined to treat you, as he put it.
the next forty-five minutes is spent with you directing seungcheol around your bakery. he's a surprisingly fast learner and before you know it, all the pastries are loaded in the back, the dishes are cleaned, your floors are swept, and suddenly you find yourself outside of your shop with the doors locked, standing next to seungcheol who watches with you a clouded expression.
"thank you so much for the help," you say bashfully. "you're already taking me—" is it too soon to say he's taking you out? oh well, what's done is done. "—taking me out. isn't this a little too much?" you joke, wiggling your brows.
seungcheol chuckles and shakes his head, pulling his eyes out of his pocket and twirling around the chain around his fingers. fuck, he has really nice fingers—
seungcheol's voice interrupts your thoughts "do you have a car or—"
"i usually take the bus home," you explain, rocking back and forth on your feet. cheol frowns, but doesn't say anything. maybe he can fix that, but that's an thought for another time as he points at his suv, all black from top to bottom, with tinted windows and full black wheels.
there's a silence that envelopes the two of you when you slip into the passenger seat, placing your work bag on the floor. seungcheol is already in the driver's seat, key stuck in but not turning on the engine just yet.
you glance between the sight of your bakery out the window, and back at seungcheol who already has his gaze on you.
"you're going to have to be transparent with me for a second," seungcheol says seriously, locking eyes with you as you shift your body to face him. "and i want to make sure we're on the same page about ..." about whatever is going to go down.
you bite down on your lip, and even though cheol knows you're doing it absentmindedly, he can't help but feel his pants grow tighter at the way it puffs up when your teeth release it.
"i ... i think you know we're on the same page," you reply shyly, shifting a little in your seat to try and make up for the silence.
"you want this?" cheol clarifies, one eyebrow cocked up.
a feeling of pride swelters in his chest when you reply without hesitation, "i do." and then a bit more quietly, you add, "i, uh, have for a while."
now cheol usually likes to tread lightly; he doesn't want to mess around and is great at keeping his dick in his pants but there's just something about the way you look at him so cutely.
you look at him like you know all the nasty things he wants to do to you, and you bat your eyelashes like you don't care—like you'd let him. like you'd take every damn thing he gives you without a single word of complaint, and it's driving him crazy.
again, cheol is great at keeping his foot on the brake, but then you swipe your tongue over your bottom lip and suddenly he's slamming his feet on the accelerator.
wrapping one hand around your neck, he pulls you to smash his lips onto yours. it's a gentle kiss—tentative, as if you're both testing the waters. pressing against each other as your faces tilt, your hands find purchase in his hair when cheol laps at your bottom lip. that's where it all takes off.
the kiss turns from innocent and sweet to sloppy and fast within a matter of moments and suddenly you're grappling at his arms, his hands are searching for your tits, gripping at the flesh and before you know it, you're being thrown to the back.
seungcheol nearly slams your back down onto the seats, your loose shirt riding up your stomach in the process to reveal the lower half of your bra. "fuck," he mutters, low and under his breath in that raspy sort of way that has your clothes feeling too hot and your cunt too empty.
"seungcheol," you moan, unbuttoning your work pants and shoving them off your legs, along with your panties in one go, leaving your wet cunt open and bare. he doesn't take a moment to shuffle back and bring his face down to be level with your core, eyes looking up at you with some kind of mischievous glint that has your stomach churning.
with a bit of hesitance, he places a soft kiss over your clit, watching you carefully to see how you react. when you whine and arch your back against the leather seats, he figures that that reaction is good enough, and this time lets his tongue out, swiping it against the throbbing bad.
"sweet," he murmurs, lips moving down against your folds. the movement and vibrations send sparks through your core and up your spine, and you shudder at the feeling as one hand flies down to grip at his dark hair. "so fuckin' sweet," he repeats before diving his tongue back, swiping it up and down between your folds.
"ah-h-h, seungcheol—fuck," you whimper when he presses the wet muscle flat against your drooling hole, continue to circle around and tease you. fervently, cheol—to put it bluntly—makes out with your cunt. digging his face in between your legs, his nose brushes against your clit when he adjusts his neck to lap and suck against unexplored areas, leaving you mewling into your arm as you try and sit still for him.
there isn't much room in the back, and to be frank, your limbs are in an uncomfy position, and you can only imagine the strain cheol is feeling, bent over and legs in an awkward position when he holds your hips and pulls you closer so he can smother himself in your pussy. he doesn't seem to mind though, lifting his head every few moments to grin up at you with hazy eyes, glossy lips, and a drenched chin, off-handedly commenting something dirty about how nice you taste, how he could live between your legs, how you're driving him fucking insane.
it's the meticulous flicks of his tongue, the deep and guttural words that escape his honeyed lips, and the girth of his fingers when he finally plunges them into your warm cunt that bring you to your edge. it only takes a few rubs and curls against your aching walls before your shaking, crying out his name as you thrust upwards, holding his face down so you can grind against him.
and he whispers the words, "cum angel," so sweetly—a complete contrast to the way his tongue is scooping up all your arousal—and so you cum like you never have before.
fuck my life, you think to yourself as the waves of your orgasm finally hit you. cheol rides you through the high, and he does it good. so good, you're left breathless when he pulls away from your cunt with a dopey smile and feather light kisses all up your thigh and stomach, and then finally your lips.
"my place?" he asks, stroking your cheek gingerly as you blink up at him. and when you nod hazily, he pats you lightly, helping you back to the passenger seat before helping you slip on your panties and pants back on. this time, when cheol gets back into the driver's seat, he places one hand on the steering wheel, the other secure over your still quivering thigh. "relax angel," he murmurs, and you can't help but burn at the gentle words. this can't be the same man who ate you out like you were damn piece of cake just moments earlier.
the drive is quiet, but not uncomfortable. if anything, you're fucking enthralled. when he stops at a red light, cheol looks over at you and when your eyes meet you can't help but giggle together until you're cheeky, grinning mess by the time you pull up to his house.
parking in the lavish drive way, cheol tells you to hold on for a second, getting out of the car and making his way to your side, to open the door for you.
"i didn't know that this what you meant by coffee," you giggle, stumbling out next to him and letting him wrap an arm around your waist to help you up the steps to his house. it's a beautiful estate, really, but you aren't too focused on admiring the luxury right now—you're much more interested in what's to come between you and cheol.
and you're about to find out soon enough because as soon as he opens the door, lets you in, and closes it behind you, cheol's hands are all over you. with your eyes closed as you two engage in a hot mess of tongue and teeth and lips, your rocking back and forth in his arms, his legs leading to you to some place you're not really aware of until you feel something hard and cool press against your lower back.
"wear the apron," cheol tells you firmly when he pulls away, pressing you against his cold stone counter. you knit your eyebrows together in confusion, but let your bag that's still on your shoulder drop onto the counter, taking out your apron without hesitation.
it's now that you realize you're in his kitchen. if you weren't in such a ... intimate setting, you would have admired the design, the appliances—all of it. perhaps you'd even wonder what it's like to bake in here, cooking up soobin's favorite banana bread with cheol by your side and—you save those thoughts for another time.
"w-why?" you murmur in response to cheol's request, as you pull the apron out, pulling the pink strap over your head, tying it behind your back as the ache between your legs begins to creep up on you again. cheol's big hands find purchase on your hips again, holding down you down with a firm grip as he turns you around and pushes your back down.
"'cause," he grunts out, and you nearly moan when you hear the sound of his belt unbuckling and fabric rustling as he shoves his pants and boxers down. it hardly takes a second before his hands are at the hem of your own pants, yanking them down and giving you a moment so you can step out of them.
you wiggle your ass around for a second, turning to look back at cheol with pleading eyes and ask him to just fuck you already, but then he locks a hand under your jaw, cupping the underside of your face and pulling it up so your back arches into his touch. you can feel the angry, hard head of his cock prodding against the plush of your ass and the feeling of him brush against you has you whining.
"patience, angel," he coos, pressing his face next to the shell of your ear and placing a soft kiss on the crown of your head before easing his way through your folds. you can't even see him but you just know he's big—fat length rubbing up and down your folds as he coats himself in your arousal as you whisper incoherent pleas for more.
"cheolie ..." the nickname slips from your lips with out as much as a brainless thought but it has cheol's head rewiring.
"fuck, say that again," he demands, snaking the hand that's not holding your face down your back until it's gripping the cute little bow of your apron.
you hum as you feel him tugging at the fabric, jerking your body backwards and pushing your cunt harder against him, the fat tip brushing against your sensitive clit. "cheolie!" you mewl again, and you're really not expecting the way he jams his cock into you in one go. not that you're complaining of course.
'cause how could you complain when he's stretching you out so nicely? when his cock is so long it's already hitting kissing your cervix and hitting spots inside of you that you didn't even think were possible to reach? when he's so deep that his balls are pressed against your burning core and his pelvis is flush against your ass?
"you feel so good," cheol moans, and you squeeze around him even tighter when you hear the low, gruff words escape his lips. "this pussy was made for me, huh?" he breathes out with a chuckle, as he pulls out halfway before pulling the strings of the apron so your core meets him halfway, slamming his cock back into you.
"oh god," you moan loudly, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you try and swivel your hips against his for some added stimulation.
"gonna think abt this every time you wear this, won't you?" cheol grunts, twisting his fingers around the bow in the back so he hold onto it tighter.
the thought runs through your fucked out mind for a moment; you're gonna have to walk into work tomorrow, and if you're wearing the apron, you'll have to sit through the day knowing that you had cheol's cock buried inside of you under this same fabric—if you aren't wearing it, you'll have to come up with an excuse for your lovely employees as to why you're not wearing their precious gift.
which option you're going to go with, though, is swept from your mind when cheol sticks a finger into your mouth and presses down on your tongue as he fucks into you harder.
what a moment, you think. getting railed on the counter of a man who you always thought was out of reach. your insides feel like jelly as his fat cock runs against your walls, veins and curves pressing and dragging through you as heat envelopes you.
and as his thrusts increase in force, you start to realize that cheol is nothing if he is not relentless. just when you think you've whimpered his name so much you think you might lose your voice, he's ramming into you harder, punching the air right out of your lungs as broken moans and squeaks that have him losing his damn mind.
"what a fuckin' angel, creaming me cock so well," he praises, yanking you back and forth at an unforgiving pace to match his calculated thrusts. you feel like you're being thrown around in the best way possible, body throttling every time his hips crash against your ass and cause you to lurch forward and arch your back even more.
and as he goes on, the rub of his cock against you, the press of his balls against your clit, his hand in your mouth and pressing against your jaw—it's all so much and so fast and so good until you're shaking and thrashing in his hold.
"mmf—cheolie, wan' cum," you choke out when you feel his cock twitch inside of you.
"yeah? my pretty angel's gon' cum on my cock?"
"yeah-huh," you answer dazedly, body jerking back and forth as his hips snap more haphazardly now, but still hitting that one sweet spot that has your vision going bleary. "can i cum, cheolie?"
and you ask him so fucking sweetly, he can't hold it in anymore, dazedly grunting out something along the lines of, "yeah, angel, cum f'me," before he spills his hot seed inside of you. the sensation of his cum painting your walls white is the final thing you need before joining cheol with your own orgasm, clenching around him so tightly that it has him gripping down on your hips in a way that you know you'll have bruises tomorrow. not that you mind.
how could you, when you just had the most mind blowing orgasm of your life with the hottest guy you've ever met. as you twitch against him, cheol finally pulls himself out and you whimper lowly at the feeling of being empty even though you know you'd probably pass out if you had his dick in you any longer.
gently, cheol strokes your back and caresses the taught muscles, untying the apron that quite literally had you in a chokehold, letting it fall from your figure. "'m sorry," he murmurs into your neck, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder, "was i too rough?"
"n-no," you say, face burning when you realize just how croaky and fucked your voice has become. cheol only laughs at you as you dig your face into your hands as you mumble bashfully, "it was ... great." you're slightly embarrassed, yes, but when you catch the look of endearment on cheol's face, you start to think twice.
as you both attempt to even out your breaths, cheol looks down at you panting against the counter, cum spilling out of your fluttering folds. vaguely, he wonders what you'll look like in a bikini in the bahamas. huh, he thinks, maybe he'll have to ask soobin if it's okay to bring an extra certain someone with them on their vacation this summer.
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a/n. how i managed to get this out in one day i don't know. the cheol effect i guess. anyways, hope u enjoyed!
tags. @xcynthiaaa @synthetickitsune @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @blinkjunhui @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji @marzmeltdown @todorokiskitten (strikethrough could not be tagged)
5K notes · View notes
ssahotchnerr · 11 months
Note
Hey love, could you pretty please do an Aaron x reader where it’s there wedding day and she starts getting real bad anxiety about marrying him. Not because she doesn’t want to but because she feels like he is surrounded by so many amazing people who uplift him that she could never compare. Just in the mood for fluffy comfort Aaron 🥹
enough
cw; fem!reader, a LOT of angst but it's comforting??, heavy 5x9 references (i'm sobbing actually), anxiety descriptions, aaron cries 😭, comfort and a happy ending don't worry!!!! wc; 2.4k
"nervous jitters?"
"you could say that." you replied - while staring off into space, while bouncing your crossed leg, while kicking your slipper on and off your heel. your head moved downward as your fingers clutched onto the seat of the chair you were sat in, harshly enough for your knuckles to turn white.
jj pulled the curling wand away from your face an inch, "careful, try not to move."
"sorry."
yet another wave of guilt rippled through you, as this wasn't how you should feel on your wedding day.
last night, you were surrounded by the people you now consider family, celebrating a new chapter. or rather, a beginning. aaron's permanent grin was engraved in your mind; you've never seen him so carefree, happily conversing with his colleagues, gazing at you as if he'd won the lottery (to him, he had). you were positive there wasn't a second where his arms hadn't been wrapped around you.
before parting ways for the night, he had pulled you to the side, to a more secluded area. he gave you long, sweet, deep kisses, holding your body close to his, as you weren't going to see each other until the two of you officially, and finally, became one.
just as him, you had been on a similar high, more than ready for this next adventure, in pure disbelief that in less than twenty-four hours, you'd be a hotchner. so now, whatever this was, had quite literally come out of absolutely nowhere.
when you awoke this morning, rather than the excitement you had expected, you were greeted with an empty, terrifying pit in your stomach.
as the day carried on, pre-wedding activities in full motion, it followed, and the void within only grew and grew. it was gravely unsettling; you were more fidgety, on edge, you hadn't been your usual talkative self. and despite being surrounded by your newfound family - jj, penelope, and emily more specifically - you couldn't help but choose to remain alone in your thoughts.
jj studied your face through the mirror, before securing your hairpiece in place. "there." her hands found your shoulders, giving them a comforting squeeze. "sit tight, i'll be right back."
you nodded, blinking your eyes to prevent the budding tears from slipping - and to not ruin penelope's handiwork, mascara sure to stain your cheeks. she left, leaving you alone.
but as promised jj returned no more than five minutes later, only she remained at the doorway, her head peeking in. "someone's here to see you."
after giving you a consoling smile, as if she knew - profilers - she vanished, leaving door slightly ajar.
your hand had only just touched the knob when the door moved a centimeter back, slight pressure holding it still to refrain from opening fully.
"don't open it all the way."
"aaron?" at the sound of his voice, you fought the instant urge to sob. but the utmost amount of comfort filled you too. it took a second, but you found your voice, "you're not supposed to be here."
"well technically, i just can't see you."
"still." you insisted. your tone was flat, rather than being full of giddiness due to your future husband sneakily paying you a forbidden visit - like it should've. "they're going to be looking for you."
"then let them." aaron answered simply, not concerned about that in the slightest. "are you alright?"
you immediately fell silent, and aaron patiently waited a minute, but still - nothing. the extended period of quietness, scared him, given the day's event.
please, not cold feet.
and given the current circumstances, there was only so much he could do. aaron dropped his hand to his side, weaving through the small gap. "here, give me your hand."
your hand quickly found his, the promptness allowing aaron to breathe. the familiar weight felt like home; your hand always fitting perfectly within his. your hands always cold, his warm. yours soft, his rough.
his thumb drew circles on the back of your hand, an invitation to open up. "what's on your mind?"
you bit your lip in thought, taking a heavy enough breath aaron could hear it without straining his ears.
"honey?"
"first, i want to preface this that i do want to marry you. i don't want you thinking otherwise." your voice was firm, meaning every word.
"okay..." here was a brief hesitancy in his voice despite your promise; a tinge of worry, some question. however, he managed to keep his voice steady, for the most part. you, however, still recognized the waver of uncertainty.
"just," you released a breath, your voice small. "i envy you."
aaron was quiet for a moment, and when he did speak, the confusion was obvious in his voice. "you envy me?"
"you have," you took a breath, gripping onto his hand. "so many wonderful amazing people around you... i don't even know where to start. they've been with you, stuck with you, for far longer than i have. how do i compare to that? god, dave's practically paying for this whole thing. because of you, for you. no matter who you would've married, he would've done exactly the same. i'm not special."
"sweethear-"
"i want to be enough for you." tears pinched at your eyes, your hold on his hand lessening - which frighteningly felt like you were letting go completely. "you deserve," you took another breath, and this one rattled through you. "everything. and i'm afraid i never will be."
aaron only clutched onto your hand tighter, refusing to part. his eyes squeezed shut for a moment, taking a silent, deep breath. "are you wearing your dress yet?"
after all that, you weren't too sure of how he would respond, but you certainly hadn't expected that. "no? once-"
aaron released your hand. and after looking in both directions of the hall to be certain he was in the clear, he swiftly entered, the door clicking shut behind him.
"aaron." you stared at him, your eyes wide in alarm. you barely had the time to process him in his tuxedo, or have the thought to push him out. "you can't be-"
"enough?" aaron looked at you, baffled. exasperation, pain, and love all present in his eyes. "how can you say that?"
"i-"
"you... are everything. my everything." he moved to your left, pacing away for a moment, quickly internalizing a way to get it across solidly, so you wouldn't dare question otherwise again. he blurted out the first thing that came to mind, "did i ever tell you, what haley told me before she died?"
you blinked in surprise, but shook your head. while you knew the story, offered reassurances after nightmares and the topic of haley had never been off limits, aaron had never gone into detail over... the final moments. you never pushed, never asked - if it was something he chose to keep to himself, to have that part of haley close to him and only him - of course you respected that. they were vulnerable, painful memories, not easy to relive.
he sobered, his posture and expression changing before you, alight with a ghost of the past. a tender, solemn fondness was in his tone as he recalled the line. "'love is the most important thing.'"
your eyes studied his face, silently urging him to continue.
"and while our relationship had it's hardships, she wanted jack to believe in it - love - and had me promise her that i'd show him."
"aaron..."
"he believes, because of you."
"i-"
"i believe," his eyes found yours, full of a sincereness you've never seen from him. "because of you."
you opened your mouth to speak again, but no words came out.
"haley was right." he chuckled softly, with a small shake of his head, "honestly, and while i understand why now, for a long time i was furious she made me promise that. because i wouldn't be able to keep my word. before that... day, i'd already given up. lost hope that i could find it again, that it was even possible, or whether i deserved it. haley and i were together for a long time, you know that. being with her was all i knew, what i was used to, and part of me thought maybe someday, we'd manage to work things out. and suddenly, she was gone. it was too late - i was too late. i failed her, and i'd continue to fail her."
"and then you came into my life, and turned my world around completely. never did i think i would love again, let alone get on one knee and ask someone to marry me. but here we are. here you are."
aaron took your face into his hands, as delicately as he possibly could - as if he feared he would break you.
"because of you, i kept my promise to haley. jack knows, he sees the love i have for you every day. and although he 'ew's' at the sight of us kissing here and there, he'll grow up understanding. he'll know the importance, as promised."
"and you saved me. you saved from a looming downward spiral. i saw it happen to gideon, it's happened to countless others within the bureau, and i could've been the next. i told someone once; it's consuming, this job will eat you up if you let it. but instead of letting it, instead of ruining my relationship with jack, you managed to pull me from that impending darkness i was headed toward."
tears were continuously trickling down your cheeks, utterly speechless.
"you're enough. god you're more than enough. and if that doesn't... i'll prove it to you everyday if i have to. if you'll let me." a broken exhale left his lips, choked up. "i promise."
still unable to find the words, and actions speaking louder, your fingers grabbed onto his tux, pulling his body to yours and wrapping your arms around his middle, burying your face into his chest. in the back of your mind, you made a mental apology to penelope, and hoped you weren't soiling aaron's dress shirt too badly.
aaron's shoulders dropped at the contact, in relief. he pressed his lips to the top of your head, his arms wrapping around your shoulders and holding you close. next, he's the one who took a shaky breath.
"so, i'm the one who should be afraid."
"what?" your voice cracked, peering up at him, your chin on his torso.
"baggage." aaron sighed, tearing his eyes away from yours, his hands running along your back soothingly - or rather, to soothe himself. "i'm the widowed father. i'm the one who's never around. i'm the one who's scarred, in more ways than one. i don't want to limit you, to keep you from a life you've always imagined for yourself. like i did with haley."
"don't say that."
"every day, i wonder why i'm the one you chose to be with. wonder why you love me. i think that it's too good to be true, that i'll wake up. or someday, you will."
"aaron."
he sighed, tears sliding down his cheek.
"you are not scarred, aaron hotchner." you cupped his face and angled him so he was looking at you, wiping the droplets away with the pads of your thumb. "far from it. the life i imagine, is with you. this is it." you found it in you to let out a small laugh, refreshing after the morning you've had. "that's why i was so worried."
he also couldn't help but laugh gently through his tears. "you shouldn't be."
your hand slid to the back of his neck, winding your fingers through the nape of his hair. "you've, very unfairly, dealt with the unfathomable. the unimaginable. but that doesn't make you broken. i find it admirable actually, and it's one of the things i love about you. you're strong aaron. to go through something like that, and come out on the other side of it, both the tragedy and the recovery part of it. a lot of people wouldn't be able to do the same."
aaron looked at you, listening, his head tilting as he leaned into your touch.
"despite what you think, you're a good father. i adore you with jack. and with the horrors you see, every day, you still come home with a calm face. you never fail to give us your all - your sweet loving self. you're always present, even if you're physically aren't here. because you're out there making this world a safer place for so many others. for jack, for me. you really don't give yourself enough credit."
aaron remained silent, his gaze beginning to tear away from yours. but you stopped him, with a finger under his chin to direct his focus back to you.
"you may have scars, but they aren't you. they may contribute, but they aren't you."
"are you sure?" his voice fell to a whisper, eyes desperately searching yours, his own dampened.
you nodded earnestly, your bottom lip quivering a small amount. "i've never been more sure of anything. i promise."
and with that, aaron's lips found yours, kissing you even more deeply than he had the previous night. from the urgency that soon developed, it was clear just how needed this conversation was, on both ends. providing closure, clarity. the kiss sent a buzz right through you, instantaneously making up for the all the lost time you had spent brooding.
you forced yourself to pull away - only when air was needed, and to simply stop. you would've gladly kissed him longer, and aaron likewise, but the two of you were on a schedule.
his forehead fell against yours, a rather boyish, adorable smile on his face. "so, are we good?"
you nodded, your lips pulling into a smile as well, the giddiness you've been missing finally present. you reached up, gently blotting away any lingering tears of his. "we've always been."
"wedding still on?"
you rolled your eyes, gently smacking his chest and making him laugh. "duh."
"okay." he grinned, pecking your lips gently. "i better go. if someone catches me in here-"
"-you'll be in trouble."
"big trouble." he grinned, pulling your hands forward to bring you in for yet another kiss. "i love you. you never saw me."
you chased his lips - just one more. "never did."
aaron laughed, his brown eyes just sparkling. "i'll see you soon. you know where to find me, i'll be waiting."
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thehistoriccemetery · 7 months
Text
Companions React to Reader Sitting on Their Lap
It’s another pretty short one this week, as I’ve had terrible Minthara brainrot and I’ve been able to write nothing but filthy smut 😔
Anyway, this one is some family friendly head canons about the ladies with a bonus Dame Aylin and Isobel!
Shadowheart
Shadowheart doesn’t say anything at first, but you do notice her skin get slightly redder, and you watch a tiny smirk grow across her face.
She’s not typically one for public displays of affection, but something about lap sitting is different.
It’s like affection with plausible deniability. What else was I supposed to do? Sit on the floor?
After you’ve done it once, Shadowheart considers the barrier broken and takes every opportunity to sit on your lap.
Sometimes you think she must have a sixth sense that tells her when you sit down, because she simply appears on your lap.
If you cross your legs or do anything else to prevent her sitting in your lap, she gives you a little cough to let you know you should remedy that as soon as possible.
Depending on who’s around, she’ll sometimes lean back against you, pressing her whole body to yours.
She likes it when you wrap your arms around her and rest your head on her shoulder.
While she prefers to be the one sitting on your lap, she’s still more than happy to let you sit on hers.
Lae’zel
The first time you try sitting on her lap, she pushes you off. Why are you sitting on top of her? Weirdo. You roll your eyes and sit on the ground.
But then she decides that it’s weirder you’re sitting on the ground so she gives you her seat.
But then she doesn’t want to stand anymore. Tsk’va. Whatever. Guess she’s gonna have to sit on you.
Lae’zel only ever sits on your lap, never the other way around. She oddly never picks up on any of the possible implications of that.
If anyone calls Lae’zel a bottom she’s gonna throw hands.
She doesn’t lay up against you or anything. To her this move is strictly practical, or at least she acts like it is.
You let her have it. As far as you’re concerned, you have a lovely girlfriend on your lap so you’re not going to complain.
Karlach
The first time you nonchalantly sit down in Karlach’s lap, she’s so chill and unfazed.
At least, that’s the vibe she’s trying to give off. She can be cool about this. So cool.
It’s less than a minute before her body starts to betray her. Her legs bounce up and down excitedly under you. As soon as you turn to face her, her stoic expression cracks into one of pure delight.
After that, Karlach pulls so many tricks to ask you to sit in her lap without actually having to ask.
Oh no! There’s no more chairs! Wherever will you sit? Looks like it’ll just have to be in her lap again. Ignore those broken chairs hidden in the corner, this isn’t about them.
You catch on pretty fast. Only so many chairs can disappear before things start to get suspicious.
You sit yourself on Karlach’s lap, watching the goofy smile grow across her face. “You know you can just ask, right?”
Her skin flushes and she buries her face in your neck. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Unfortunately, she’ll never sit on your lap because she’s too afraid to crush you. Even if you’re bigger than her. You’re too precious to risk it.
Minthara
Minthara is always taking up as much space as she desires in any given situation, so it’s not uncommon that she takes up the space of more than one person.
Luckily she’s always got a place for you to sit, whether that be in between her legs or on them.
She’s never bashful about pulling you into her lap, even when there people are around.
If anything, an audience actually encourages her. You are hers, and that is most clear to everyone when you’re perched on her thigh.
Other times she will be slightly more subtle, tapping her inner thigh in a silent invitation, queuing you to join her.
There are very few scenarios in which Minthara will sit on your lap though. At least, in public.
If you try to get her to sit, she’ll shoot you an “I know that you know this isn’t how this works” look, leaving you to let her take your seat and take your position on her lap.
Jaheira
It really depends on the day with Jaheira.
Most days she going to tell you to get an extra chair. There is no need for you to be sitting in her lap right now.
Sometimes, even if there is no extra chair she would have you sit at her feet in front of her before she let you into her lap.
But on those particularly long and hard days, when you come back looking exhausted and beat, she will allow for some extra tenderness.
She’ll gently guide your head to rest on her shoulder or against her chest and stroke your hair.
If you’re in a more comfortable space she will even slide her hand up under your shirt to rub your back.
More often than not, you fall asleep almost instantly, even if everyone around you is still making a ruckus.
She’s still not going to carry you to bed though. You can walk yourself there.
Dame Aylin x Isobel
Isobel is a princess and Dame Aylin is her throne. It’s more common than not the Isobel is on Aylin’s lap.
For Aylin, it’s like displaying a beautiful trophy. She needs everyone to look at her beautiful girlfriend right now.
The notion makes Isobel blush, but she’s just as proud to have Aylin as Aylin is to have her, so she’ll allow it.
Aylin doesn’t sit on Isobel’s lap, nor would she ever allow her to give up her seat, but Aylin will sit at her feet and gaze up at her with awe and wonder while Isobel smiles down at her and runs her hands through the aasimar’s hair.
And Selune forbid there’s no place for Isobel to sit. Aylin would sooner get down on one knee and let Isobel sit on her leg than leave a tired Isobel to stand.
Aylin’s shoulders are also an acceptable option. She can hoist Isobel up there with ease. She’ll never have to walk for any longer than she wishes.
Granted, it makes them like 10 feet tall, so there’s only a few places it’s applicable before Isobel has to be on alert for low hanging obstacles.
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seresinhangmanjake · 6 months
Text
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Soap's Sister!Reader
Summary: You and Simon had been keeping your relationship a secret from your brother. You were happy, in love, but that all ended the moment Johnny found Simon in your bed.
Notes/warnings: Part 1 of 2. Mention of sexual acts. Angst. Fluff and smut in next part. Typos, I'm sure.
Words: 709
Part 2
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You were Johnny’s sister. That alone should have been enough to ensure Simon kept his distance. And that was the plan, as staying away from you would've been the right thing to do; the respectful choice to make concerning the sister of his friend. But once he saw you, all of those thoughts vanished. 
You’d greeted him and Johnny at the door of the Mactavish home with a huge smile spread across your face, illuminating the shade of your eyes, and that was it. Simon was a goner. And to think just seconds prior, he hadn't wanted to come to the annual Mactavish family gathering. 
When offered Johnny’s invitation, Simon had turned him down. He didn’t do parties. He didn’t do loud chattering or large groups—around fifty bodies, Johnny had told him—and he didn’t appreciate hoards of questions hurtling his way. It took a half-hour of borderline begging from Johnny before Simon agreed, simply to get his friend to shut up. 
The drive over was agonizing with Johnny practically bouncing from the excitement of seeing his family all in one place for the first time in years, as Simon sat in the passenger seat with his arms crossed over his chest, anticipating the worst. But then there you were. So beautiful that he forgot his hatred for organized events with people he didn’t know. So gorgeous, and he quickly discovered not lacking in wit and intelligence. While Johnny mingled, you had Simon’s attention in a chokehold—an arousing pressure tight round his neck he never wanted relief from.
He had met pretty women before; funny and smart women, but not like you. Nothing like you. However, it would've been better had you revealed yourself to be dull. If you were dull he could've walked away. He could've avoided the guilt that sunk in when he noticed how Johnny didn't bother to pay attention to the dwindling space between your body and Simon's as the night progressed. Johnny didn't bother because he trusted his friend to do the right thing, as he would trust any teammate that he shared a brotherly bond with.
But Simon was not Johnny's brother. He was not your brother. He was your admirer, your pursuer, and eventually, your lover, just as you became his. A lover that ignited a fire in his belly he’d only ever heard about from Price and Gaz when speaking about their women. He never wanted to let you go. But that bliss ended the moment Johnny found him bare in your bed while you were rinsing off his cum in the shower. 
As he shot up in bed, Simon had two thoughts: how did he not sense someone coming into your apartment, and how did he not hear the knock at your bedroom door that, after going unanswered, prompted Johnny to enter out of concern. But there was a simple explanation. Simon was too sated, too drugged out on you, too exhausted and half asleep after a long morning of sex to register any sound other than your soft humming from the en suite.
Johnny’s face had descended into pure anger—nothing like Simon had ever seen—and he knew there were no excuses to give. Not for the scene, the circumstances, or the lies told in the hope Johnny would never know about the time you spent together behind his back. There were no words as the best thing in Simon's life shattered to bits.
He’d lost his best mate that day, and because of the fit Johnny threw at learning Simon had been sleeping with you for months, he’d lost you as well. He had tried his damnedest to keep you—Love, you’re a grown woman; you can make your own choices; he’ll come around—but all you did was shake your head, tears streaming down your cheeks and dripping onto the floor as you reminded him that hurting Johnny was one of the deal-breakers. 
He’d left your apartment with his fingers fisted in his hair, knowing that was the last time he was going to see you. And that had proved true over the following three months. He’d not heard from you. No calls, no texts, no bloody emails. You were done, gone, and Simon was stumbling through a world without you.
A/N: Fluff and smut next part. Thanks for reading 🥰
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chimielie · 2 years
Text
girlfriend
summary: Iwaizumi x F!Reader. you might be his girlfriend—but she's his girl.
word count: 2.4k
cw: hurt/comfort. a lot of reader insecurity. fear/mention of emotional cheating but there is none
a/n: this actually fills @akimind's request for my 500 follower event one million years ago but the formatting is tooo hard so. here it is!!! iwaizumi + angst + college au + "that's not what i said." LOVE YOU SORRY HOPE IT HURTS AND IS ALSO ENJOYABLE. <<<<3333333
You didn't mean to fall in love with your boyfriend.
You hadn't gone into this expecting Hajime to become your boyfriend at all, actually. You liked him. Liked how easy it was to be with him. How warm he was when you let your touch linger on him and pretended it was more than a flirty friendship. You hadn't ever predicted it would become so, because Hajime was hung up on his ex-girlfriend.
They'd traveled over oceans to be together, coming to Irvine from the same prefecture in Japan. They had still been together when you met him, her head tucked beneath his chin, his arms wrapped around her waist. Your first thought was "oh, he's beautiful." Your second thought was "they look like they're made for each other." You shoved the first thought deep inside a secret crevice of your brain and stuck out your hand to introduce yourself with a bright smile.
The strain of new adulthood got to them, though, or so you assumed: you were never privy to the gory details of the breakup. They remained friendly, in the same friend group, and it just always seemed obvious to you that they would someday reconcile. It wasn't until two years after their break that you were able to start showing regular, platonic affection to Hajime without feeling like an attempted homewrecker.
It was just before graduation, having dragged him away for a late-night bite to eat so neither of you would starve to death studying for finals, when everything flipped on its head. Your plan to energize the both of you had backfired; you were yawning every other sentence and came close to laying your head on the table before Hajime put his palm down in front of your face.
"Come sit next to me," he'd said, so you maneuvered around into his side of the booth and been promptly pulled into his side. You had looked up at him, murmuring a sleepy question that was more wordless noise than actual English, and that was it. Something you didn't understand softened his gaze, and then he tilted his head to the side and brushed his lips over yours.
It was a perfect first kiss.
In the weeks following it, you had bounced violently between insisting to yourself that he hadn't meant for you to read too far into the kiss and your natural instinct to go after what your heart wanted. And the more he proved that it wasn't a one-off anomaly, that he could kiss you right out of drought into a superbloom, the more you were convinced. Iwaizumi Hajime wouldn't knowingly break your heart.
When Hajime asked you to be official, wildflower bouquet in hand, the lights of the now-empty graduation pavilion shining down on the both of you, you said yes, your whole heart and none of your brain in the matter.
As you entered your apartment hand-in-hand with him, greeting all the friends who had gathered there to celebrate the end of undergraduate school, you remembered that the key modifier in "Iwaizumi Hajime wouldn't knowingly break your heart" was knowingly. He seemed happy enough announcing the development to everyone else, and then she had walked in, carrying a bottle of wine that almost slipped from her grasp when she saw your proximity. He had dropped your hand—just for a second, but it had happened, and then picked it back up like his sentence hadn't died in his mouth at the sight of her.
He'd always gotten a little defensive when people mentioned their relationship, his features shutting down into a blank, tight expression. Though they obviously weren't as close as they had been for most of their lives, they were still both part of your friend group, and he always seemed to laugh just a little harder at her jokes, kept eye contact a little longer, got embarrassed more easily around her. You didn't want to be jealous or insecure or possessive, but it just felt more increasingly obvious that you were a rebound, a cheap, temporary dupe meant to fill in until Hajime realized and returned to the love of his life.
It was hard to be angry at him, though, because you knew with every fiber of your bleeding heart that he wouldn't do this to you on purpose. You knew he thought he cared for you, that he thought he had moved on. He did a good job almost every day coming very close to persuading you of it, enough to keep you from breaking up with him and leaving him behind, but never quite erasing your insecurities for more than a few weeks at a time.
One of the first mornings you woke up in his bed, well rested and sore in all the right places, he was missing. You got up, mourning the softness of his sheets and the scent of him on the pillowcases, and slipped into one of his shirts before leaving his room to explore.
He was cooking, shirtless in the kitchen, and if that wasn't one of the yummiest things you had seen in your life.
"Good morning," you said, leaning against his counter.
"Very," he returned, flipping an egg in the pan. "Looking like that. I think—I mean, it seems like that shirt always gets chosen to be the boyfriend shirt." He had narrowly avoided saying her name, but you had heard it threatening to tumble out of his mouth. You bit back a response, but your smile still dropped, and he spent the next hour making allusive, sorry overtures without either of you actually acknowledging the slip.
You never wore that shirt again. He gave you another one, you accepted it, and life moved on.
Except you had somehow become mired in the past with a relationship that was long over, and without university or a job to distract you—you were starting at the end of September, which felt aeons away—it was eating you alive, especially as Hajime left for a preliminary return trip to Japan.
"Did you hear how Mattsun and Makki greeted him when he landed?" You sit in the car on the way to the airport, packed in with Hajime's ex, successfully hyping yourself up to see him again until she addressed the group.
"Oh, yeah," you laugh. "So funny." You haven't had a conversation with Hajime that had more depth than "how are u? miss u" for the trip's duration. She's your friend, too, though you've never been close, but there's something unbearable about admitting it to her now, when you're so unsure of your relationship's current status. It has to mean something that he was keeping her updated and active in his life, didn't it?
You find solace in knowing that you don't blame her at all. If you could find an ounce of resentment for her in your heart, you would probably have left Hajime by now—isn't that the mark of a truly evil plot-pushing girlfriend?
You cry when you see him again.
"Happy tears," you assure him, and hide your face in his shoulder.
Later, alone in his apartment, you bite your lip when Hajime asks if you want to sleep over.
"Okay, babe, I don't want to pressure you," he says, and you can feel yourself tensing up as he speaks. "But I feel like you've been—off all day. Is everything okay?"
You blanch and focus on the cowlick on the right side of his head, the one that's endeared him so much to you, so you don't have to look him in the eyes. Too much is bubbling up in your throat, your brain thrown into overdrive, and he's staring at you with so much worry in his eyes it's just not right to leave him hanging:
"No."
Hajime makes a noise you don't understand, low in his throat. "Is it because I didn't call enough while I was gone? Because I can explain that, I promise."
"No," you rush to explain. "I don't—it wasn't you, exactly. I've just—ever since we started dating—I think you still love her."
You're picking at your nails, a bad habit you've had since you were small, and he takes your hands in his, smooths his thumbs over the torn cuticles.
"I don't," he says, finally, neutrally, though his face hasn't formed into the cold mask you're used to seeing when she's brought up. "Ever since we started dating?"
"Before," you admit. "I always thought you would get back together. You just seemed so made for each other."
"But we weren't," a little pucker between his eyebrows forms. "So—what did you think when we started dating?"
"When you first kissed me," you say, "I thought maybe it was a one-off. That you wanted something casual. And then it got more serious, and I thought maybe I could just suppress my insecurities until they went away, and I mean, I really thought you liked me."
"I do," his voice grows more agitated, his lips thinning out.
"Yeah, but..." You trail off. "You would do things that made me think, oh, he's just the perfect guy, they just looked so amazing because I was jealous, and then every so often I'd see you interact with her and it wasn't like how we are at all. I know the insecurity is my own fault, that's not on you, but I feel like it's holding both of us back."
"What do you mean holding us back? You don't think you make me happy?" He snaps, and you wince.
"Not like you are with her! Every time she comes in the room you get this look on your face, like you're speechless. Like-like the songs, Haji, I just..."
He lets go of your hands, crosses his arms.
"Do you really think I'd do that to you?"
"No, Haji, I know you'd never cheat. That's why I fell in love with you! You're a good guy, but I don't want you to wake up one day and break both our hearts because she's meant to be your girl and I'm just your fucking girlfriend." Your eyes sting, your chest heaving by the end of the sentence.
"You love me?" He's quieter now, giving you a little more space to breathe.
"What? That's not what I said."
"Yes, it is," he says, a little smile growing at the corners of his mouth, as though he can't control it. "You love me."
"I'm sorry, I don't understand why you're focusing on that," you wipe at your eyes with the back of your hand. "It's true, I just don't get it."
"Because you make me happier than she ever did," he promises, crowding you up against the counter and motioning for you to jump up to sit on top of it after you can go no further. "I'm weird when she's around because she's my ex, sure, but not because I still want her. It... ended badly. It's a miracle we didn't pull the entire friend group into it, and I never wanted to make her look bad to them, so I'm always trying really hard to look, uh, normal around her. We're on better terms now, but I haven't wanted her in years, honey."
"She knew about what you were doing when I didn't," you mumble, feeling small in the stormy release of emotions. "And she knows so much about you I don't in general."
"We grew up together," Hajime reminds you. "It would have been one of the guys. I know I didn't tell her anything. You can check my call history, my texts."
You shake your head. "I believe you."
"Really?" He arches a brow, and you laugh and push gently at his shoulder.
"Yes, really."
"You know how long I had a crush on you before I did anything about it? I thought you weren't interested, and then you finally started being even more affectionate with me than you were with our other friends, and I took the chance."
"Rookie numbers," you preen under his gaze. "I liked you... pretty much as soon as I met you. But I suppressed it 'cause I didn't want to be a homewrecker."
"You're sweet," he chuckles. "I promise, you have nothing to worry about there. I'm never gonna wake up and not be grateful to see you drooling on my bed."
"You're the worst, you know that?"
"Yeah, yeah," he looks at you fondly, swiping his thumbs under your lower lashes. "You love me, though."
"Oh," your lips part. "And the not calling in Japan?"
He scrunches his nose. "I was trying not to spoil anything. I wanted to, uh, discuss it with you first, but you should know my friends and family are all waiting to embarrass me if I have to turn everything around now."
"Okay? I'll consider your dignity, but I make no promises," you tease. He drops his head to your shoulder for a moment, taking a deep breath, and you wind a hand into his hair, petting him until he straightens.
"So, you know how I have that paid internship opportunity back home?" You nod, not wanting to be reminded. You'll do it for him, but... long distance sucks. "I went to their office and turned it down. I want to go through with my doctorate."
"Oh, that's huge!" You gasp. "That's incredible, I'm so happy for you!"
"So the part that has to do with you is, um," he says, "you're planning to stay here, right?"
"Yeah," you say, "my next step is like a twenty minute commute, thankfully."
"I want to finish my schooling in the States," he tells you, "and then after that, I want to go wherever you go."
"Hajime," you start, but he puts a shaking hand on your knee, and that shuts you up.
"I love you," he says seriously. "It's like I said, okay? You make me happier than anyone else. I know you're the one for me, if you'll have me. If not, I get—"
You grab his face and smash your lips into his, and if that doesn't get the message across? You don't know what will.
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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 7 months
Note
Hi!! Can i request a hurt/comfort hotch x reader?
Reader is starting to feel lonely in the relationship cause for the past 2 months hotch has only been home for a week total and she really misses him. They haven’t had time to themselves cause even when hotch is in virginia he’s in the office and him getting called out on a case during his day off happens more often than the both of them want to. and even when they text and call it’s not the same.
anyway hotch comes home in the middle of the night after a case and he just finds reader on the sofa crying cause she just really misses her boyfriend and the two of them finally talk about it.
You have permission to break my heart with the angst and put it back together. I know its long and i have no clue if it made sense so im sorry😭😭 enjoy your day💕
༉‧₊˚. 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭 || 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫
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― pairing: aaron hotchner x plus size!reader
― summary: you knew that being with aaron meant that his job came first, you just hadn't realized how badly it would actually affect you. now, your life and love is on the line.
― warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST!!! you have been warned!, thoughts of breaking up, established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, hints of depression.
― wc: 905
⋆ a/n: my first long fic back being angst LMAOOOO. i'm not going to lie, writing this kind of bummed me out a bit but that's how i knew it was going to be good LOL. but never fear, i got a few smutty things in the works, so keep a silly little eye out for that!! i love you guys so so much and thank you for your request!
masterlist | AO3
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The room felt melancholic. Empty. 
The sounds of laughter that had once bounced off of the walls of your home now rang silently, one of the only people that knew of the joy that once made your house a home was long gone on a case right now.
You don’t know what to do. How could you last like this? How could your relationship? How could Jack?
Jack, the precious little boy that you had taken under your wing even before you and Aaron had ever made it official. You knew he missed his father dearly, but with every large life milestone the boy had completed, Aaron had missed out on. It had gotten to the point where Jack doesn’t bother to ask you if he could call his dad to tell him about it, because nine times out of ten, he knew that Aaron wouldn’t answer.
So now as you sit here on the couch in the dark with your head in your hands, you can’t help but think that maybe this was it, that it was time to consider the very dreaded other option. 
You tried your best to make your relationship with Aaron work, God did you try, but having to sit there and endure weeks of radio silence, of not knowing whether or not he was alive was excruciating. When he did have time to text or call you, every conversation was more and more distant. 
Hot tears rolled down your cheeks, and your bottom lip trembled. You crossed your arms and placed them on your knees where you leaned on them, staring out into the abyss of your dimly lit living room. You had just put Jack to sleep, and you didn’t want to risk waking him up.
Your eyes solemnly scaled the walls where the pictures of your little family hung, frames upon frames of happy smiling faces. 
What happened?
It was the fact you were absolutely drowning in your thoughts that you didn’t hear your front door unlock – something that your boyfriend would deeply frown upon. 
Aaron wasn’t surprised to find the apartment quiet, what he was surprised to find was your silhouette illuminated by a single lamp. What really set off the alarms in his brain was your shivering shoulders, which could only mean one thing.
“Sweetheart?” His deep voice pierced the thin air hovering above you. You just shook your head, any happiness that would have left your mouth died in your throat, the words leaving you was, “We have to talk.”
You hated doing this, but who’s to say he won’t get called in tomorrow? No, you had to do this now.
Aaron felt his heart fall into his stomach as he made his way over towards you, gently sitting down on the cushion next to yours, almost as if he was afraid to scare you.
“Of course. Are you okay?” He inquired in concern. You just shook your head again. “This isn’t working, Aaron.” The pain lacing your voice was unmissable. “What?” He’s completely caught off guard, because this was the last thing he’d expected to come home to.
“I can’t do this anymore… unless – unless we can figure something out but even then I-” He rushes to grab your hand, and it lays limp and cold in his warm and calloused one. “Honey please, what’s wrong? Tell me what I can do.” Holy shit, he’s panicking. 
“You’re never here anymore! I - I can’t remember the last time in the past two months that we’ve been able to have any alone time together! Most of the time you’re either gone in a whole different state or stuck in the office!” You couldn’t stop the word vomit from leaving, all kinds of emotions that had been kept dormant finally coming up to the surface.
You heaved out a deep breath, your body slumping in defeat. “Did you know that Jack learned how to ride a bike today?” You asked quietly. “No.” Aaron gulped, “I didn’t.”
A heavy silence settled between the two of you.
“What do you need me to do?” Finally, you looked at him.
There were unshed tears in your eyes, “What I want you to do, you can’t make it happen.” His eyebrows furrowed. “You want me to quit my job?”
“No,” You said with a disbelieving laugh. “I just want you to be there.”
“Who says I can’t do that?” His head tilts, his eyes boring into yours, desperately trying to read you. It was like his profiler skills didn’t exist. “Every time you’ve had a day off you’ve been called into the office one way or another.” Your tone is hopeless, like your situation can’t be helped. 
With a harsh squeeze of your eyelids, the tears began to fall, but Aaron was quick to swipe them away.
“Honey, look at me,” He cups the side of your cheek, his thumb brushing away the liquid. Hesitantly you did, and you instantly fell victim to the warmness of his irises. “I will fix this, because I am not losing you. My behavior has been completely unacceptable, and I swear that I will be here for you and Jack more consistently, I promise.”
“How do I know if this won’t happen again?
“I’ll make sure of it.” 
It was the finality in his voice that fizzled out the anxiety in your gut, setting your nerves at ease.
“Don’t make me regret this, Hotchner.”
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ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus
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alexa-fika · 9 months
Note
Hi again first you're a teacher?? Me too soon 😂
Anyway I thought of another weird idea
A child that can see dead people 🏃‍♀️ and he sees corazon when he's with law
Or any other character
I will write a lot of ideas sorry if it's annoying 😅
🐼💕~
A/N:I am a teacher! Im a preschool teacher, that is why writing this in that aspect is really easy because I see their behaviors and shenanigans everyday. What grade will you be teaching??
Also, absolutely not! I love your ideas they are incredible, it will never be annoying trust me, receiving these makes me giggle and kick my feet like a little girl
Dividers by @/saradika
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Clumsy Ghostly Guardians ( Law x gn!child!reader x Corazon)
“Dad, Dad!” The child could be seen once again running through the hallways of the submarine, their screams bouncing off the walls as they ran towards their father
Law looks up from his reading as the familiar sound of his child's footsteps approaches him. He sighs, returning his attention back to the medical journal in his hands.
“What is it?”
“Dad, who is the tall ghost who always follows you around?”
“Tall ghost who always follows me around?”
Law puts down his book to give his child his full attention
“What do they look like?”
He watches as the child changes their focus from him to next to him, attentively staring at something
“He’s really tall, he has funny lips, he has a big coat, and he falls a lot too.”
Law's brows furrow as he is genuinely confused by his child's words. However, Law gets a strange feeling in his gut that what they are seeing is none other than Corazon
“…Did they tell you their name?”
“He said his name was Rosinante, but he said you call him Corazon.”
Law's jaw hangs open as he stares at his child. Law never told his child about Corazón, and the fact that reader knows his real name and even his alias...
When the child had eaten the yuta-yuta fruit, the possibility was always at the back of his mind, but he had always brushed it off, thinking that Corazon was either following Doflamingo or Sengoku.
“...how long have you seen him?”
“Since I ate yuta-yuta”
“Since you ate the....”
Law's face goes pale with shock. He has a look of disbelief on his face
“...did he talk to you?”
“Mmhm, he said dad was the cutest when small, said you still have a gloomy expression now.”
Law's expression softens, and he sits down next to his child, trying to process everything that has occurred. He puts a hand on their head, ruffling their hair
“...what else did he say?”
“He said he’s glad you’re safe, what does that mean dad?”
Law shakes his head, trying to keep his emotions under control. He did not expect to encounter such profound news today. Law turns his attention back to his child and gives them a tight smile.
“...he means that he is happy we are safe. Did he say anything else?”
Law strokes their hair with his thumb
“He said that he is proud of you
Law's cheeks blush as tears stream down his face.
“Ah! Dad, why are you crying? Corazon, do something! You made Dad cry, meanie!”
Law covers his face with his sleeve; he struggles to regain his composure. Eventually, his heart starts to slow, and the tears stop
“Don’t worry about it; I’m just happy, Reader-ya.”
“Ah, Corazon fell again”
“Seriusly?!” He groans
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So I did made this gender neutral but in Japan a Yuta is a female spirit medium and I couldn’t find a word for medium that would fall within that 4 or 3 alliteration format that the fruits have other than with yuta, and even that was stretching it but yeah, just wanted to let you guys know 😂.
Taglist:
@imaginarydreams
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megumishotgf · 7 months
Text
pov: megumi has a crush on you
summary: more megumi headcanons i fear… ya’ll like my texts way more so this is definitely written for me.
warnings: reference to catcalling? other than that sfw + gender non-specified!!
masterlist
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reserved! megumi who takes his time getting to know you. he studies all your qualities and aspects personality as if one day he’ll be quizzed on your features. megumi admires your ambition and drive but most of all your tenderness and selflessness. he’s drawn to people with good and expressive hearts. people who like to help others and perform nice gestures just because they can.
attentive! megumi who focuses diligently when you’re speaking, concentrating on every single trivial detail, even those that slip absent-mindedly past your lips without much thought. he listens to you ramble on and on about your interests yet it never bores him (and he gets bored of people alright). speaks so softly with you in a tone that surprises everyone around you (mainly nobara and yuji who have never seen him so interested in another human before… he’s always this soft to animals, though).
nerdy! megumi who prefers reading non-fiction but will pick up your favourite fantasy novels just because he wants to feel close to you. seeing your eyes light up when he mentions the titles to you makes his heart swell. highlights his favourite quotes and annotates in between pages. he’ll share them with you, gaze fixated on you as your eyes scan over all of this thoughtful comments. you feel such genuine happiness knowing he has gone so far to do this for you.
sappy! megumi who picks up one of your romance suggestions next, finding himself relating to the hopelessly enamoured protagonist. again, he annotates his copies and scribbles exclamation marks when he comes across passages that resonate with his growing feelings for you. doesn’t show you these ones, of course. at least not yet.
shy! gumi who admires your kindness from afar. all the little things you go out of your way to do just to help someone else. when you assist yuuji in the kitchen with his high-protein meals or paint nobara’s nails with great precision. when you’re the first to offer your seat up for an elderly woman on the metro or when you bounce out of your seat to help your teachers carrying piles of school documents.
observant! megumi who notices all of your little habits. the kind of things that make you feel so loved and cared for when he mentions them back to you. those things that no one else really noticed even if you badly wanted it to be seen.
love-sick! megumi would configures multiple playlists about you. one playlist containing all your favourite tracks and another with all those that you recommended to him directly. the type to listen to ‘i wanna be yours’ and fall asleep to thoughts of being with you. so many random romantic playlists often come up on his spotify profile. one time he made you a physical mixtape. yes, it was mostly just love songs… you swore it was just a coincidence. mostly.
insecure! megumi who constantly thinks he could never be good enough for you. dismisses your concern when you notice him distancing himself (because somehow you can distinguish between this and his usual quietness) but can never fully push you away. feels his heartbeat accelerate when you offer him physical comfort (with less reluctance than with anyone else). hugs from you are so comforting.
touch-starved! megumi who craves your physical affection all the time and it gets very noticeable. his arms instinctively circle around your waist whenever you greet him, rushing over for a hug. at first it was always you initiating the affection, but it’s starting to feel so natural reciprocating it. your hand will subtly slip into his when you are walking around central tokyo together or you’ll cling onto his side for comfort and warmth. he worries that you’ll be able to hear his obnoxiously loud heartbeat when you do so, but nothing could make him pull away.
annoyed! megumi who glares at his friends when they tease him about your physical affection (or when they hear your nicknames for him). but at least they have the decency to wait until you’ve left, he thinks. i give them one more week, yuuji says to nobara as megumi walks away in the same direction you just went.
if looks could kill… nobody would want to experience angry! megumi. even yuuji and nobara started to feel unsettled seeing him like that after some old loser started to catcall you. you had barely registered what was called out to you before he fearfully disappeared around the corner.
kind! megumi who opens his arms for you when he sees you’re upset. sometimes struggles with verbal comfort, but he remembers how nice it is to be hugged by you, so surely this should help. it does help - and he feels his heart swell when you thank him for being there for you.
even more nervous! megumi who finally musters the courage to confess his feelings for you. rehearses the speech in his head (and surprisingly to yuuji) tens of times only to be left astounded after you make the confession first. finally kissing you felt like the sun rising after months of darkness.
megumi who has infinite amounts of layers!! getting to know him is truly a magical experience. ultimate green flag he is perfect end of discussion!!
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haven’t published anything in so long… hey ya’ll. how is everyone doing. pls send requests i am out of ideas!!
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neversetyoufree · 2 months
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Since we'll hopefully be getting out of the VnC hiatus soon, and this new arc seems to finally be turning the spotlight back to Noé and calling out some of his more troubling traits for the first time, I've been thinking a lot about him recently.
I've talked before on this blog about Noé's inability to recognize or process bad things when they happen to him alone. He bounces back from and idealizes almost any experience as soon as it's over, even when he absolutely shouldn't. It's one of my favorite traits of his, and it's been lampshaded a couple of times in-manga. Louis calls out how weird his attitude toward his kidnapping is during the mémoire 9 flashback, and the "be a little bothered" from Vanitas and co in mémoire 57 has the same effect.
We also recently got a whole extended sequence of Vanitas and Domi complaining about how Noé also never anticipates harm before it might come to him. He waltzes into dangerous situations like it's nothing, almost as if he thinks he's unkillable. Combined with the above, this is just more of his strange brand of optimistic denial. Everything is fine in Noéland! It can't possibly not be fine! He always trusts and thinks the best of people and situations by default, never wanting to expect they may do wrong, and so long as a given event doesn't involve harm to external innocents and/or Noé's loved ones that he can't rationalize away, he compartmentalizes and denies harm once it's done. Thus he carries on in blissful ignorance, his past suffering having no effect on the blithe trust with which he treats the world.
But in addition to all that, Noé is also very notably divorced from the consequences of his own actions. It's not that he's *incapable* of considering his own effect on people, and he certainly tries to be kind and decent, but much of the time, it just doesn't seem to occur to him that people will have reactions to the things he does. He does as he sees fit, and when his deeds impact the people around him, especially if they produce a reaction that could upset him, it bounces off his mind in the same way that potential traumas do.
On the more lighthearted end of the spectrum, this leads to things like Noé never noticing when people are attracted to him. It may also have something to do with his airheaded messiness—the way he's always thoughtlessly making a mess of the hotel room and incurring Vanitas's wrath in bonus materials. On the heavier end of the spectrum, this causes a lot of genuine problems for the people around him. He's largely oblivious to the depth of Dominique's mental health problems until she's pushed to her breaking point at the amusement park, despite the fact that he's inextricably entangled in the cause of them. He also completely loses sight of Vanitas's reactions to him when he gets caught up in his protective rage at the start of the vanoé fight, and it takes an outside reminder from Jeanne and a literal mirror to make him realize that his own actions are part of why Vanitas has devolved to such a state.
This lack of self-perception on Noé's part feeds back into the other problems I laid out at the top of this post, his obliviousness toward his interactions with the rest of the world helping to facilitate his denial. It's part of the happy little insulating bubble that he interacts with the world through. And as the other side of that coin, his automatic, unthinking denial of things that could hurt him is part of what enables him to ignore his own impacts on the people around him. You can't reckon with or worry about harming other people when you live in Noéland where everything must be fine. I think the fact that he wants to be a good person that doesn't harm others actually makes it harder for him to confront the truth of how he impacts the world, because him hurting others is a Bad Thing that would cause him mental harm.
We've seen Noé mess up, understand his mistake, and apologize for it before. He apologizes to Vanitas for making assumptions about him after the bal masqué, he apologizes to Vanitas again at the end of the amusement park fight, and he apologizes to Riche for speaking with ignorance about dhampirs. However, I think the bigger a mistake of his is, the more harm it causes other people (and the more understanding would hurt him as a result), the harder it is for Noé to comprehend his wrongs. He's clearly trying to make things right with Domi, and he's told her that he values her, but I don't know if it's yet occurred to him to conceive of their mess as a situation where he's done her active wrong. He also literally passes out on her mid-conversation, leaving Domi and Vanitas to carry him back to bed when he was supposed to be comforting her.
But I think the most fascinating example, the moment where all this comes together into Noé's most feeble and blatant act of denial yet, is the first time he sees Misha after clawing up his face. The anime actually changes this detail, which is its own can of worms to get into, but in the manga, when Noé sees Misha's injuries in the light of day after attacking him, he immediately fucking turns around.
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At the end of his wits at the amusement park, Noé claws a child across the face in a fit of anger and protectiveness. I'm not interested in condemning Noé for this, especially given that the child in question was actively trying to stab Vanitas at the time, but I will say that his actions are quite extreme. Given Vanitas's response and the way Misha's injuries are portrayed, I think it's clear that the manga wants us to see how Noé hurts Mikhail as something troubling and extreme. He gives that kid a pretty horrible injury, and Misha will likely have scars on his face for the rest of his life.
And regardless of how justified he may or may not have been in hurting Misha in defense of Vanitas, it's clear that Noé himself is upset by the true extent of what he does to Mikhail's face. When he looks at him in the light of day, when he sees a numb-looking child with his face wrapped in still-bloody bandages, though we only get to see a small segment of his face in that moment, he looks sick. He knows that he's done something troubling, and I'm sure he feels all kinds of heavy and unpleasant emotions.
This is one genuinely bad thing he's done that Noé cannot deny. He can't rationalize this one away and make it all copacetic. He can't conveniently forget the emotional reality of suffering and harm, because that reality is standing ten yards away from him. And he can't just apologize for things either, because apologies cannot undo physical harm, and frankly, I'm not sure he'd be able to give an honest apology for his one. Sickness at the results of his actions doesn't mean he fully regrets hurting Misha, at least not at this moment when emotions are still raw.
But Noé, confronted with this undeniable source of guilt and pain, is still ultimately unable to look the pain he's caused in the eye. A problem piercing through the happy veil of Noéland and forcing him to acknowledge it doesn't mean he's capable of reckoning with that problem. Instead he just. turns away from it.
Noé, forced to acknowledge a harm he's done and unable to employ all the many layers of automatic insulation that usually protect him, physically turns around because he cannot bear to look at the person, the child, that he's hurt. He employs the very last possible form of avoidance available to him, even though it's useless in the ways that matter. Not looking at Misha doesn't mean he gets to un-know the fact that he maimed him, but he simply cannot bring himself to look.
Noé is extremely good at playing "I do not see it" with things that hurt him. He's good enough that I think he has genuinely no idea he's doing it a vast majority of the time. Whatever mental shield he has that's protecting him is automatic enough that the badness that could hurt him doesn't ever even seem to cross his conscious mind. But no matter how automatic and subconscious, this tendency of his is still, and the end of the day, nothing more than an unhealthy coping mechanism, and this moment helps to put that to our attention.
What's the difference, really, between him cheerfully acting like Jean-Jacques and Chloé's assaults never upset him and him turning around so he doesn't have to look at the wounds he gave Mikhail? Noé can't look at pain, can't acknowledge the things he finds upsetting (at least not things that cause him alone pain, as others' pain often triggers his savior complex and spurs action). This scene with Misha throws that into the light, forcing Noé to desperately cling to his avoidance in an obvious and physical way.
Even when there's no way to deny the harsh reality of having done something he finds horrific, Noé Archiviste cannot make himself look directly at a painful truth, be it others wronging him or his own wrongdoing. It takes an external hand to step in and force him to turn his head and acknowledge/reckon with a problem. And even then, who knows if intervention can always be successful.
The start of the dham arc so far has drawn a lot of attention to this pattern of behavior, with Vanitas having to sit Noé down and explain to him in detail why his words said in well-meaning ignorance make Dante so upset. This is Noé being forced to look at a harm he caused because he couldn't or wouldn't look at and comprehend the problem (his fellow vampires' racism) in the situation he was in. But upsetting Dante is ultimately a low stakes problem for Noé. He put his foot in his mouth and offended a peer; he didn't shred Vanitas's little brother. He's able to accept his wrongs and feel his discomfort without resorting to physically turning around and avoiding the issue.
I want to know what Noé will do if/when this arc forces him to confront a source of pain he can't handle in a context that's more high stakes than a social faux pas. I want to see what he'll do when something really forces him beyond his ability to believe that everything is fine. How badly would he have to be hurt to lose his ability to filter an event/events through rose colored glasses? How badly would he have to hurt someone else? Or is his instinctive shield good enough that he'll never get out of it on his own? And if so, who else might step in to make Noé own up to reality?
Teacher and the Archivistes are becoming plot-relevant now, and our attention is being drawn to Noé's issues. I think there might be something coming soon that even Noé can't turn away from and cheerfully pretend isn't hurting him. Teacher even ends his appearance at the amusement park with a little speech about having to "wake and face reality," which makes me even more certain that a wake-up call for Noé is imminent.
Either that, or Noé's going to mess up and hurt somebody even worse than he hurt Misha later this arc, and in that case, we might get to see a feat of denial even worse than him literally turning around to avoid looking at the wounds he caused.
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namfinessed · 2 years
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so close - m.yg.
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genre: major angst, fluff, second chance romance (13.5k)
summary: words are not enough for people who are so close and so in love, or a fic in which yoongi loses you but will do everything in his power to win you back.
note: writing after so long felt liberating, i hope you feel through my words.
this one is dedicated to my soulmate, @hopefuldreamlove​
masterlist 
“you know what? i’m done, i’m fucking done with your nonsense, i hope this stupid roof falls on your head!” your screams bounced off the walls loudly as you dragged your bags to the front door, you no longer recognized yourself.
when had it become this bad?
“i hope so too, at least that way i don’t have to hear you scream like a banshee on drugs, just get the fuck out already” yoongi huffs as he matches your vicious tone, but his chest tugs at him, begging him to move and stop you before it was too late, before you actually left and never came back. but his pride was stronger, he wasn’t going to beg you to stay, he was stubborn enough to pretend this didn’t affect him at all.
you don’t respond or even turn back to look at him one last time, you slam the door and trudge your luggage impatiently to the elevator.
yoongi couldn’t move, he watched the front door with pursed lips, he couldn’t believe that after all this time, this was how you two were going down.
he should’ve stopped you; he shakes his head at himself, he shouldn’t have even let the fight get so far, he should’ve stopped the second your voice wavered with unshed tears halfway through the argument but he didn’t, he waited for those tears to turn into simmering anger and yoongi didn’t do anything to make you stay. as always.
that was why you fought in the first place because yoongi had seemingly given up on putting any effort into your relationship.
halfway through the parking lot, you pulled your suitcases behind you with heavy steps, letting out puffs of breath with furrowed eyebrows, and then you paused. your heel stuttering as you narrowed your eyes, your hands loosened around the handles of your bags.
why should you leave?
you both were still owners of that apartment, both of you paid the rent and if you left now, you don’t even have a place to stay and you didn’t want to inconvenience your friends because yoongi was being an asshole, you also didn’t want to go through the trouble of finding a new apartment when you had a perfectly available one right above you (with three bedrooms!).
you smiled wickedly, if yoongi thought he was getting rid of you this easily, he was dead wrong because now, you were determined to make his life hell by living right next to his door and doing everything you could to make him uncomfortable.
yoongi didn’t hate a lot of things, but his personal space was always important to him and you were determined to make that space as worse as it could get and if he had a problem, he could always leave and find another place, he had the money to buy another apartment anyway.
with that happy revenge plan, you walked back to the elevator with a bounce on your step, you couldn’t wait to make yoongi’s life miserable.
yoongi, on the other hand, had been watching the clock since you walked away, it took every fiber of his pride to keep himself on that couch and not run after you but eventually, he knew that he needed you, he couldn’t ignore his sinking chest forever, so he ran to get his car keys, begging and praying silently that you hadn’t gone too far.
he reached for his phone as he made his way to the door, already texting your friends to see if you had gone to them.
imagine his surprise when you slam the door open just as his hand moves towards the door handle, he jumps back with a pounding heart and a rush of emotions fills him.
a mix of relief, remnants of his previous frustration, pure joy, and cockiness fill him as he sees you back in your home, his hands almost grab you into a hug but instead clench into fists and tighten beside his body.
“missed me already?” his lips curl into a smirk and your glare hardens, but you give him the sweetest smile in return, and yoongi’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion.
you looked furious when you left so, yoongi didn’t understand the smile on your face even if his heart jumped at the smile he hadn’t seen for a while now.
“don’t flatter yourself, min yoongi, i’m not back for you, i’m back for my apartment” you sing to him as you purposefully shove his shoulder on your way in, even running your suitcase on his toes accidentally as you walk past.
he winces and curls to grab his stinging foot, “what the fuck is wrong with you?” yoongi growls, any idea of needing you had left him swiftly as his anger returned with a vengeance.
“oops, sorry, didn’t see your foot there” you tried not to snicker as you said but you still had that shit-eating grin on your face and yoongi huffed, annoyance filling his every crevice.
“okay, what are you doing back here? i clearly remember you hoping that this roof falls on my head, did you come back for it to fall on yours too?” yoongi followed you as you walked to the guest bedroom, his footsteps speeding up to catch your pace but you remained one step ahead.
“you mean, what am i doing in my house? i don’t know yoongi, what do people do in their houses?” your voice was sickeningly sweet and yoongi ran a hand across his face in exasperation, “this is our house, can you stop being sarcastic for one minute and give me a straight answer?”
“as far as i remember and you are free to correct me, both of our names are on the lease, making both of us rightful owners, why would i go anywhere else when i have a home right here?” you level your glare with him as he stares back with an unreadable expression, “are you doing this just to be petty?” yoongi thought you had come back for him but now knowing that you didn’t, filled his chest with a bitter, ugly feeling.
“i have no idea what you are talking about, i am just choosing to live in my house” you shrug your shoulders as you put your clothes into the guest room’s closet, yoongi looks away with furrowed eyebrows, “stop calling it your house, it is our house” your hand paused at the longing in his voice but remembering all the nights you went to bed crying because of him, pushed you to just keep arranging your things.
“it is mine and yours, not ours,” you concluded and yoongi tried to shake off how heavy your words made him feel, “besides, i won’t even be bothering you anymore, think of us as roommates and nothing more until i find a new place.”
“roommates?”
“roommates.”
“you are going to find a new place?” yoongi asks, shifting on his feet, it was strange to see you occupying a different part of the house.
“of course, why would i stay here with you for longer than required?” you planned to just ruin his life for a little while and then leave to a place where you could finally breathe.
you just staying here would ruin it enough, you thought.
“you shouldn’t even be staying here right now” he bit back, masking the ache in his heart with insults he normally wouldn’t even think of uttering but that confirmed it for you that your decision to stay bothered him and that satiated your petty heart.
“if you have a problem with me staying, you can leave and find a new place” you gave him a large, sarcastic grin and yoongi’s eyes further narrowed on you. “i don’t give a fuck about you staying or leaving, just stay out of my way” yoongi mumbled and slammed the guest door shut.
you rolled your eyes as you continued shoving your belongings in place, you couldn’t wait for this lease to be over, just as much as he did.
-
the lease was supposed to be renewed after three months and you were hoping to find a place by then because as much as you taunted yoongi, you were planning to move out the next chance you get because you couldn’t stay around him and hate yourself for liking him still.
you spent the first two weeks, mostly staying out of home, you couldn’t stand seeing him working all day, even at home. that was why you two had fought and ultimately broken up over, and as much as you hated to admit it, you were hurt that he didn’t even try to change his ways.
your eyes glared at the eggs sizzling in the pan sitting in front of you as your hands tightened impossibly around the spatula you held.
were you supposed to cook eggs with a spatula?
were the eggs supposed to look that dark in color?
was whatever you’re holding, even a spatula?
your head tilted in confusion as you tried to rake your brain for things you learned from cooking shows and let out a sigh of frustration as the eggs you flipped had smoke coming out of them.
you never had to worry about cooking, as busy as yoongi got, he always made sure you at least had leftovers to heat up before he left for work but you would rather plunge yourself on a bed of legos than ask him to make your food.
besides, you could do this yourself, you have done much more difficult things than this in life, a couple of eggs and bread weren’t going to be that hard.
“are you seriously using a scooper?” you heard a low, groggy voice from across the room and you sucked in a breath, face heating up in embarrassment.
so, you weren’t using a spatula after all.
you stiffly nodded and yoongi snickered, “if you need a ride to the hospital after eating whatever you made, i will be happy to take you.��
you turned around with an annoyed huff, “as if you have time for anything besides being holed up in your studio, i will die before you even come and get me.” yoongi’s jaw tightened as you pointed your spatula (scooper) at him, and then, he released a long breath as another grin graced his face, “so, you agree? you agree that you will end up in the hospital after eating this?”
“even if i do, i don’t see how it’s any of your goddamn business, min yoongi, just make your fucking breakfast and don’t be such an insufferable roommate” maybe your words were harsher than needed, but you couldn’t stand being around him and not hurt him, as he had hurt you over the course of the past few weeks.
yoongi didn’t retaliate which only made you feel worse, but you held your chin high in defiance of your own guilt as he did exactly as you told, he kept quiet and made his breakfast.
and of course, he made a huge spread of everything from bagels to smoothies to chocolate pancakes, he put them right in front of you as he sat on the opposite side of the long island table as you stared down at your burnt eggs and bread with a clenched jaw.
for yoongi, work could wait right now but annoying you couldn’t.
“i hope you enjoy your breakfast, y/n, if you can call it that” yoongi gave you his brightest smile yet, the stretch on his face covering the otherwise sarcastic tone “because i know i will enjoy mine” he finished by shoving a forkful of the cream cheese and chicken bagel that he knows is your favorite. he knows how much you loved it when he made it for you after a night full of love and attention.
you glare at him with annoyance crawling up your arms and legs as he lets out a moan of approval at the bite, obviously putting on a show to piss you off more, your mouth waters involuntarily as he chews slowly with nods and loud hums of satisfaction but what finally drives you mad, is when he lifts his head from eating and gives you a cheeky wink.
your hands gripping the table's edge turn white as you forcedly push your body away from the table, abandoning your sad excuse of breakfast and stomping out of the room.
you hate that you can hear yoongi’s sinister laughter even after you slam your door shut.
-
this is what continues for you both, you accidentally unplug his computers, he accidentally drops juice on you right before you go to work, you accidentally break his speakers, and he accidentally puts your night plushie in the washing machine and reduces it to nothing but a shapeless fluff. the cycle continues, both of you determined to not let the other breathe peacefully, every night you slept while making a plan to destroy his day, and every morning you woke up to execute it.
it was childish, immature but it gave you the satisfaction you craved. seeing his usually passive face become irritated or waking up to his screams of frustration and curses filled you to the brim with joy.
you did start to question why you enjoyed it so much though, sure you wanted to give him hell but the whole process of planning it wasn’t what made you satisfied, it was purely his reaction to it.
“you just want his attention again” your dear friend, jennie, mutters as she glares at you while sipping her bubble tea. you immediately scoff at her; she had no idea what she was talking about.
“no, i want him to suffer” you correct her and she shakes her head at you, putting her drink down and leaning forward with furrowed eyebrows. “i worry about you, you know.”
“why? i’m perfectly fine” you shrug because you don’t see anything that she needs to worry about, you are moving on, you are making yoongi suffer like you wanted to, your work performance is still intact, and everything was smooth sailing. “no, you are not. i thought it was weird that you wanted to stay in the same house as your ex, but i didn’t say anything because you were in a sensitive place then. now, you have to admit that you are delaying staying away from him.”
“i’m staying in a house that i own and that i am paying rent for, it has nothing to do with min yoongi.” you jab a finger on the table as irritation fills you, but you also feel embarrassed? humiliation crawls on your insides as you try to maintain a passive face. jennie’s face softens and she reaches out for your hand, “i know how much he hurt you, don’t punish yourself by thinking you have to prove to anyone that you want to hurt him as he did you. your pain doesn’t need justification.”
-
you couldn’t sleep that night, all you could think of was jennie’s face as she uttered those words, her gentle hands keeping you anchored to the real world, the world where min yoongi shredded you to pieces without caring or knowing about it. before you know it, you feel tears escape down the side of your eyes and your hand shakily reaches out to muffle your sobs.
why couldn’t you just stop caring?
why couldn’t you up and leave?
what kept you tethered to a relationship that was void before you ever called it off?
and why couldn’t you just fucking stop crying?
you wanted to let your hand go, so yoongi can listen to your wails, to what he’s done to you, the damage he’s caused, the broken pieces that you struggle to pick up, maybe in some sick way, you want him to come and wipe your tears away, maybe you just want him to show up this once, to make up for all the months he didn’t. but you don’t let it go, you hold it tighter against your face because as much as you want him to know, you can’t. you can’t have him find out that your tears were because and for him.
-
you didn’t have to justify your pain but you did have to prove that you were moving on, so against jennie’s and all your friend’s better judgment, you decided a date night would just be enough to prove that you didn’t care about yoongi or whatever you had with him anymore.
you hummed lightly as you got your favorite dress out, it had an open back and whenever you wore it, yoongi couldn’t stop touchin-
this isn’t about him.
you huff in annoyance at your own thoughts as you lay your dress down on the bed, you are not thinking about him, not today and not ever, today is only about your date, you are going to have a good time, get lightly tipsy, and maybe even have a full-blown make out session if you get drunk enough for it and you will not think of yoongi at all.
you took a deep breath in as you started doing your makeup.
how long has it been since you got ready for a date? at least, a date that didn’t get canceled as soon as you were ready. your makeup brush slows in your hand as your heart starts feeling heavy again. you didn’t bother getting ready for anything if it was not with yoongi even when he canceled, even when he pleaded with you that he would be there and left you hanging.
you gave such little regard for yourself and you feel angry that you didn’t put yourself first, that you didn’t fight him right then and there, you feel irritated that you quenched your needs for as long as he made you wait.
 you start getting ready with more aggression after that, you were definitely going to put yourself first now, yoongi gets none of you. you don’t need him for anything anymore.
except for maybe one thing.
you stand in front of the mirror with a scowl, your arms awkwardly bent to try and zip your dress up but your fingers are just out of reach for it, you start to hop awkwardly hoping that somehow hopping around will magically zip your dress up and start to groan in frustration.
“are you auditioning to be a kangaroo?”
you pause with gritted teeth at his amused voice coming from the doorway that you didn’t realize was wide open all this time.
this can’t be happening right now.
“can you fuck off?”
“and you will go out with your zip wide open, got it, i will be taking my leave.” He snickers and starts to head out, only to pause when a whine comes up your throat, you bite your lip to swallow your pride because you don’t want to ask him, but you have no choice.
“yoongi, can y-“
“can i?” he turns around in a flash, leaning against the doorway with a smirk on his face, that you want to slap off.
“can you zip my dress up?” you mumble out in a rush and shift your feet to face him with half your body. yoongi whistles, looking away, acting like he didn’t hear you at all, and your eyes drop into a glare, you can already feel your irritation crawling up your skin.
“you heard me, stop acting like a kid.” you scowl at him as you stomp your foot.
“i did but a ‘please’ would be nice, you know, zipping a dress is tough work and i can’t just hand it out for free.” he was enjoying this way too much but his heart was dipping continuously as he kept looking at you from the corner of his eye.
when was the last time he saw you, all dressed up?
why can’t he remember the last time he took you out?
why can’t he remember the last time he fell asleep and woke up with you?
he clears his throat loudly as he makes his way across the room, your glare stays on yoongi as he approaches you but you don’t miss how his eyes stay downward as he walks with slow steps. you tilt your head in confusion as you push your hair to the side, to let him zip you up.
but he never does.
he stands behind you, looking in the mirror as you hold your hair up, he looks at you through the mirror, and your eyes meet his.
yoongi doesn’t look away.
you don’t look away.
your zip is long but forgotten.
and suddenly, you feel like the room is running out of air for you to breathe in.
you hadn’t been this close to yoongi in so long.
you can’t tell if he’s thinking the same thing, you can’t tell if he’s finding it hard to find air right now too, you can’t tell if his heart is beating as loudly as yours.
but sorrow fills you because, in all these months, yoongi has come this close to you, only to zip the dress that you’re wearing on a date with someone else.
“yoongi.” you whisper, so quietly, so delicately, as if you can’t bear to utter his name but you have to.
“right, zip.” he shakes his head at himself, quickly looking downwards and his hand’s ghost on the skin exposed to him, yoongi is suddenly unsure if he can zip you up or not, he’s unsure if his hands will let him only zip you up, he’s unsure of where that would lead to.
“where are you headed to?” yoongi tries to sound casual as clears his throat and his fingers finally catch the small zip at the dip of your dress, he takes his sweet time dragging it up, his eyes savoring every inch of skin he hasn’t touched.
you hesitate, you don’t want to tell him. actually, maybe you do, maybe you wanted him to know before but after the shift in the very air around you, it feels wrong. “a date.” your answer leaves you in a choke, just as he finishes pulling the zip all the way to the top.
he removes his hands from you like he’s been stung, and he steps back, yoongi doesn’t even breathe as he stands unmoving.
air rushes in your lungs once you notice the conflict in yoongi’s eyes, once you recognize the conflict forming a knot in your stomach and even air seems like too much for you.
the moment is over and you can feel your defenses climbing up too.
you are ready to fight him, you are ready to argue that you both were done, and that what you do with your time is none of his business and it never will be, and that you can kiss, fuck, do whatever you want with whomever you want.
because you two were done.
because you two were done.
that statement didn’t feel real until this second. something about the statement felt like the most incorrect thing in the world to yoongi.
but he won’t say it.
he won’t hurt you anymore.
he can’t hurt you anymore.
“have fun.” his words are low, and curt and they fall into the silence around you both in a loud thud as yoongi quickly walks out of the room.
you are left in your dress, with a date you were going to be late to and a heart so heavy, you feel that you will drop it at your doorstep before heading out.
-
“isn’t that so exciting?” your date beams at you.
he’s cute, well accomplished from what you’re told and he seems interested in you.
you wish you could say the same.
but all your responses to him have been one-line sentences and tight smiles.
along with your pre-existing obsessive thoughts of yoongi and that goddamn zip, guilt bleeds into your system and so does dread.
guilt, because your date is as good as dates come, and he already mentioned that he would be more than willing to take time out for you and that he will be available whenever you want, that the next date will be whenever you are comfortable.
which should excite you.
which should delight you.
it should make you the happiest person in the world that he’s so openly giving you his time even if you are meeting him for the first time, it should make you the happiest that he seems enamored by you, that he wants to know so much about you. your friend had mentioned that this guy had been asking about you for a while and that when she asked, he had jumped in joy at the idea of going on a date with you, this should make you happy.
but it doesn’t, it sits bitterly in your mouth that it doesn’t make you feel a single thing.
you felt a million more flutters, kicks, and tingles in that one-minute yoongi zipped your dress up than you have for the past hour sitting opposite to your date.
dread also, slowly but surely, starts to consume you from the inside out. it scares you that maybe you will never feel all of that with another person, that you have somehow run out of sensation when it comes to someone else, it scares you that this might be forever, that you will never truly move on, that you can ever only pretend to move on.
maybe if someone else touches you.
maybe if someone else feels you.
maybe you have a chance of forgetting the ghost that yoongi left on your skin, maybe if someone else kisses you, you will be able to forget how his lips felt.
maybe if someone else could be exactly like yoongi but not like yoongi at the same time, you can survive this.
there’s no one like yoongi.
and you can’t do this anymore.
you stand up abruptly, your mind too loud to let you sit and listen to one more word that didn’t come from yoongi. your date sits up alarmed, quickly reaching for your hand to ask you what was wrong, to check up on you.
he is touching you.
his hands grip your fingers tightly.
he won’t let go until you do.
there is security in his touch.
but.
nothing.
you feel nothing.
your breathing stills at the realization.
your body doesn’t even bother with his hands on yours, it doesn’t even register that a person is holding your hand, asking if you’re okay. your body hates you.
before you know it, you are rushing out a half-assed apology and running out of the restaurant leaving your date confused and hurt.
you wish you could turn back and tell him you felt the same.
you were confused and hurt too, just for someone else.
-
a defeated weight held your head down as you walk back to your home.
the home that you share with your ex.
if you were in a better mood, you would maybe laugh at the situation you’ve put yourself in, maybe laugh at how ridiculous all of this is but you can’t bring yourself to even walk without feeling like the world was crashing on you.
yoongi heard your footsteps out in the corridor and he jumps back from the door he had pressed his ear against, running to the couch before you reach the doorknob. and just as the door clicks open, he snuggles himself into the blanket on the couch and evens his breath to pretend like he’s just casually fallen asleep on the sofa with a movie playing.
he wasn’t pacing by the front door a million times, trying to listen in to when you would come back.
he wasn’t going to reach for his car keys and come to find you.
and yoongi definitely didn’t feel the jealousy burning in his throat since the second you walked out for a date with someone else.
yoongi hears a thud and opens his eyes to the smallest amount he can see.
and he sees you.
that dress still takes his breath away.
but he can hear your breathing too.
it’s uneven, rough, and too quick, just like how it always is when you feel overwhelmed or frustrated.
yoongi stiffens in his position, both concern and anger filling him and the blanket slips from his shoulder a little.
was it because of your date?
did he do something to you?
were you alright?
his heart thumps uncomfortably as your step near his figure, he doesn’t know if you can tell that he’s pretending or not.
then you sit right by where he’s laid, on the floor, another defeated sigh leaving your lips, and yoongi wonders of the ways he could kill your date for making you like this.
little did he know, it was because of him.
“i can’t do it, yoongi” you whisper, seemingly to no one even if you use his name like you don’t want him to hear and yoongi confirms that you believe his act.
“i can’t seem to move on” a sad and tired chuckle follows that sentence and yoongi’s skin burns underneath the blanket, he’s never heard you this way. “and i know you have, i know you moved on a long time, long before we ever broke up but i can’t. even if you have, i can’t.” tears build in your eyes as you try to blink them away, you felt ridiculous, talking to him when he was asleep.
but you couldn’t help it, there was so much you wanted to say but you never got the chance to.
“i can’t hate you for moving on, but i can hate our situation for making it so hard for me to move on, i can hate myself for ever loving you, i can hate a lot of things” you nod to yourself, yoongi’s fists curl on his chest, if only he could throw the blanket away and take you in his arms. if only it was that easy.
“i can’t hate you, i can never hate you” you finish, your head falls with the weight of every thought you had.
if only you could tell him this when he wasn’t sleeping, if only he made it easier for you to say it to him.
yoongi’s lips purse, out of all the things he thought you would end the sentence with, that wasn’t one of them.
he was prepared for you to insult him in the vilest way possible.
he was prepared for you to blame him; he was prepared to take the blame.
but he wasn’t prepared for what you said or how you said it.
he wasn’t prepared for the sad kind of joy that filled his heart.
his joy was a paradox, too many faces for him to feel it at all.
you got up, turning the television off and pausing to look at him before you disappeared into your room and prepared yourself for yet another day of pretending to hate him.
yoongi could feel the weight of your gaze on him. he foolishly wonders if his hair is looking okay today, if the pajamas he chose today looked good on him, if he was looking presentable.
he can’t help it, you are standing in your prettiest dress and yoongi knows no one can be more beautiful than you, in that dress, in any dress, or in nothing at all. he only wants to be worthy of you.
then you do something that makes yoongi choke back a long breath.
you tuck his blanket back in place and your hands make quick work to cover his ears sufficiently.
it’s a simple action but it makes yoongi feel everything he did for you when he confessed his crush to you all those years ago.
then you step back and pad away quickly to your room and once your door falls shut, yoongi sits up immediately, breathing heavily.
he buries his head in his hands as frustration and something so similar to grief run through him in waves.
was he really stupid enough to let you go?
why did he feel regret now, when everything was concluded?
why did you have to tell him all of that?
his heart ached, his fingers ached, all of it was for you. and he looks at your door longingly.
you were wrong, yoongi thought. yoongi would die before he ever moved on from you.
and he never really let up a chance to prove you wrong.
at your door, his hand pauses in the middle of knocking when he hears your sobs on the other side.
if someone ripped his heart out, it would probably hurt less than this.
how badly he wanted to break down the door and hug you until your tears became his.
how badly he wished to caress your hair until you fell asleep.
how badly he wished you would fall asleep in his arms.
how badly he wished, against his awareness of the selfish nature of his wish, to see you in that dress one last time.
yoongi could open the door, he could do all of this, he could grant himself everything he wishes for but the door wasn’t the only barrier between you two and he became painfully aware of all the invisible barriers you both held up now.
he can’t just leave and come back when he wants, it wasn’t fair on you.
so, yoongi, regretfully and slowly, takes a step back and disappears into his studio where he catches no sleep.
but hey, he could at least finish a song that night.
that night, yoongi knew he was lying to himself if he said that he didn’t love you anymore. but he was also on thin ice with you, yoongi was going to try his best to stay on the surface.
this would be the last song he would make for a while, he had more important things on his checklist.
-
the smell of-
was that cream cheese?
your groggy, half-asleep mind somehow registers the waft of bagels and cream cheese in the air, which is enough to pull yourself out of bed.
with tangled hair and puffy eyes, you pad into the kitchen with a narrowed gaze.
of course, it’s yoongi.
you glare at his back which moves constantly to put together a cream cheese and chicken bagel which was, as mentioned, your favorite. usually, you would appreciate this view, usually, you would go give him a back-hug as he cooked for you but you knew it wasn’t for you.
“do you have to torture me like this?” you whine out, and yoongi snickers, his apron tightening around his waist as he turns around to look at you, “good morning to you too, you look bright as ever this morning” he gives you his best smile and you return a sarcastic one.
despite his aloof attitude, yoongi was trembling on the inside because he knows there is no single right way to win you back, he would have to earn it, and he would have to work on it every single day.
but if it was going to take forever to win you back, yoongi would try forever.
you buried your pounding head in your hands as you took a seat at the table, wondering how you were going to cook for yourself again without accidentally setting something or yourself on fire.
then, a glass of water with advil comes into view and you look up to see yoongi immediately backing away to work on breakfast again.
“are you trying to drug me?”
“is it working?”
you can’t help the small smile forming at his amused tone, but you don’t say anything which makes yoongi sigh in failing irritation. “come on, it’s just advil. you don’t need me to drug you, you do that with your cooking every day.”
“geez, thanks for reminding me i’m not freaking gordon ramsay in the kitchen” you continue his banter, somehow, you’re in a good mood even after how terribly last night ended. you go mute when he places a plate filled with your favorite bagel, an omelet, bacon, and even mini jam sandwiches in it.
you just stare at the plate before dragging your gaze to yoongi who turns away once again, this time with a dust of pink on his full cheeks that you catch.
“your side of the table is that way” you point to the opposite side, albeit regretfully because it’s been a while since you have had a proper, not-burnt breakfast, but he must have mistakenly placed this beautiful plate of food in front of you.
it has to be a mistake.
there’s no other reason for yoongi to feed you.
but oh, yoongi’s just so full of surprises.
“that one’s for you.” he shrugs casually as if it was normal to make you breakfast, after he’s only eaten it in front of you for a few weeks.
“what?”
“do you have hearing problems?”
“do you have mental problems?”
“yeah, but a dining table is hardly an appropriate place to discuss those, don’t you think?” maybe it was his flat tone as he said, indicative of his sense of humor, maybe you were just in a more fantastic mood than you had anticipated.
but you burst out laughing. you couldn’t help it; your laughter took over your entire system.
you can’t remember the last time you laughed like that.
yoongi had always managed to make you laugh or smile; this magical ability made you fall for him hard and fast, and after a rough day, he was the reason you at least slept peacefully, when you were together.
when you were together.
right, that wasn’t you two anymore.
that realization slows your laughter to a hesitant chuckle, yoongi wishes he didn’t notice that shift.
"don’t try to cook ever again if you want this roof over our head.” he jokes again as he sits down on his side of the table, suddenly the table seems too long to him and he hopes you’ll laugh again.
"are you saying you'll kick me out?" you dramatically gasp at him with an undeniable smile on your face.
it’s all right, yoongi will take a smile too.
"I’m saying you'll burn it down.” he continues with a playful whine that has you giggling again, swinging your legs under the table, a true indicator of your happiness in that minute which yoongi doesn’t miss.
“don’t you have work today?” you ask, finally digging into your food as yoongi does to his.
god, that’s good.
you swear his hands are magic.
“i took the day off” yoongi shrugs again, the second time he’s shrugging over things that aren’t half as casual as he makes them seem.
as long as you know, yoongi only ever took one day off, which was on your first anniversary.
he was always late to the other anniversaries.
you try not to think of that now, especially when both of you were in a civil mood.
“why, are you sick or something?” though concern fills you, you don’t let it show as you stuff your mouth.
“nope, just like that.” you hum in reply with poorly contained surprise.
“i don’t have work today either.” you don’t know why you tell him but you do.
“i know.”
“okay.”
“okay.”
you feel embarrassed at the disappointment that filled you when he didn’t say anything about it, what did you expect he was going to do, ask you for a date? if he wanted to, he would have done it when you were together.
“do you want to watch a movie?”
you almost drop your fork.
yoongi is surely full of surprises because you don’t even process his request for a second.
“what?”
“do you really have hearing problems?”
“no, i just didn’t quite catch what you said. are you asking me to watch a movie with you?” you repeat his words in disbelief, the plate of food that you loved so much, completely forgotten on the table.
“yes, that is what i said.” he confirms and you tilt your head in suspicion that yoongi notices too quickly which causes him to rush out, “as roommates.” it pains him to say it but he can’t come up with anything else to convince you.
“as roommates?” your confusion only grows.
“as roommates.”
“but why?” you can’t help but ask.
“just think of it as me trying not to be an insufferable roommate” he offers his explanation and in theory, in practicality, it makes perfect sense.
but both of you know it’s not that simple.
nevertheless, you don’t pry anymore.
yoongi’s shoulders fall in defeat when you don’t agree or deny, he just watches you continue to eat his food with furrowed eyebrows.
he took it too far, he should’ve stopped with breakfast today and tried to convince you to a movie another day, when you’ve warmed up more to him. you are probably still stuck in whatever happened last night and want your space.
“there’s this new horror one i saw on instagram the other day, i must have the link somewhere, i’ll put it on in a bit.” you look away with heated cheeks as you struggle to swallow your food.
oh.
you just agreed to the movie.
yoongi believes he could fly.
-
“man, this is not as scary as everyone said it was” you complain through a mouthful of popcorn, and yoongi nods in agreement, stuffing his face with a handful of popcorn too.
“by the way” yoongi sits up after hours of slouching on the couch and you signal for him to continue. “how did your date go yesterday?” he mutters, as casually as he could, reaching for more popcorn to avoid the tension surrounding the question.
last night comes back in flashes, your cute date, running away from the cute date, coming home to yoongi and confessing you would never get over him, covering him with a blanket and crying yourself to sleep.
shit, did he hear you?
“it went well, i came home pretty late though.” the lie tumbles out of you in lack of a better response.
yoongi knows you’re lying but he’s happy to play along with you because last night did a number on him too.
“glad to know it went well. i wouldn’t know when you came, i fell asleep watching some documentary” he munches on his popcorn loudly, he misses the error in his lie.
he wasn’t watching a documentary.
he was watching ‘finding nemo’.
and you know that because you were the one who shut the tv off.
you know that he’s lying. but instead of confronting him about that and that possibly leading to a conversation about what you uttered into the night, thinking he was asleep, wasn’t a risk you were willing to take.
“right, i did see you asleep.”
and i poured my heart out, right next to you.
yoongi in unaware his lie is caught; you prefer that he stays unaware. because if anything you said last night is what prompted him to act the way he did today, you are glad it didn’t all go to waste.
“we should sleep” he slouches back on the couch, too close to you, he’s hyperaware of your arms pressing against his but now that he’s already fallen back, he can’t quite get up as easily anymore.
he doesn’t want to get up.
“we should.” you agree.
neither of you moves a single inch.
laughter explodes into the room at that, both of your heads falling to the side to look at each other with squinted eyes full of happiness.
but when the laughter dies down and you are left to catch your breath, you are suddenly too aware of yoongi’s face being so close to yours, you don’t move away.
yoongi knows you know that you two are far too close.
he doesn’t move away either.
you start to lean in, your body is on autopilot as your hands sneak up to sit on the top of his knee, yoongi shudders from your touch.
how long had he gone without it?
how had he survived for so long?
how did his heart continue to beat without yours in his hands?
he panics internally as his hands come up to grab onto the sides of your face, like he won’t let go, like letting you go once was enough pain for him.
and when your lips touch, every bit of control you had left on your body evaporates into the air around you, you are grabbing his hair, and he is pulling you closer, and not once do you stop to take a breath.
because you know that when this moment is over, both of you won’t speak a word about it.
you can’t remember the last time yoongi kissed you this way, like his hands would disappear if they weren’t holding you, like his entire life purpose was to take your breath away and never give it back, like every part of him had been aching to do this.
and then it does end, painfully, too slowly, you pull away before your chest burns away, he pulls away because he has to.
you were right.
you don’t speak a word about it.
-
there was no ‘good night’ after that, there was no ‘see you later’, there was nothing left in that moment except the hope stored away in yoongi’s eyes. you pretend you don’t notice it as you, once again, eat the food he makes you in the morning.
yoongi knows he has to say sorry though, he hadn’t planned on that happening, he was just another lucky idiot that night, he was aware enough to know it wasn’t right for two to do that even if you’ve been together for years.
things were different and yoongi always hated change but he had to overcome this change instead of walking away from it, if he wanted to even dream of having you back.
so, he is the one who starts the uncomfortable conversation that you’d been anxiously waiting for.
“about last night-“
“you don’t have to worry about it.” you answer, as quick as lighting, and you even surprise yourself with your speed.
“oh?” yoongi raises an eyebrow at you.
what the fuck was he supposed to understand from that?
“come on yoongi, it’s not like we haven’t done it before” your chuckle following your words, is uncomfortable, tight, and completely unnatural.
“right” yoongi drawls, still not quite getting what you were hinting at.
were you okay with it?
were you not?
would he just have to kiss you again to find out?
“it was just a mistake, it happens, it’s not a big deal, i’m still moving out, you are still very much in love with your career, we don’t have to discuss it anymore” you eat as you speak, trying to bury the longing and bitterness in your voice with cold cereal.
so, that is what you meant.
yoongi doesn’t reply as his head stays down, he gets up soon after, cleaning up after himself and you, he doesn’t speak a single word or spare you a glance and disappears into his studio.
you are all too familiar with this scene.
you only watch as he does all this, you wouldn’t admit to another living soul that your heart grew heavier than it had ever been and that your chest felt tight enough to snap.
yoongi angrily walks around his studio, you could think it was a mistake but yoongi would break his computer before calling it a mistake.
but he realized he still had a long way to go.
yoongi had to be patient, he had no other choice.
but he doesn’t realize every second he goes by without telling you what was weighing on his heart, was another second your already dying hope vanished.
he can’t help but think back on the day he overheard you talking to your friend about your relationship, he subconsciously never really let go of that day, that day, he concluded that it was out of yoongi’s hands to do anything.
“i can’t believe you called, it’s been way too long” he heard your sigh of happiness outside the door, and yoongi paused, he doesn’t exactly know why he stayed to listen but he does.
your relationship, by then, had already been on the rocks, but neither of you acknowledged it.
“i wasn’t going to call, but rumi was telling me you were on a date with a certain someone” your friend sang from the other side of the speaker, clearly trying to tease you but you don’t say anything to that.
yoongi knows why you went silent, making him dig his heels deeper and listen closely to see what you would say.
“yeah, about that” you let out a hesitant chuckle, your voice struggling to keep your cheery tone. “hey, you good? what happened?” your friend’s concern was palpable and yoongi almost scoffed at her, he cared about you too, it wasn’t just her.
but yoongi couldn’t deny the weeks you both had gone without so much as exchanging a proper conversation.
yoongi would never take the blame for it, though.
“we didn’t end up going” yoongi peeks through the door to see your face turned away from the camera and he hated that he noticed the pain etched in your furrowed eyebrows. your friend stayed silent at your simple, but heavy answer, she could tell this wasn’t the first time it happened.
“but today is your anniversary?”
“it is.” you agree with a gulp, still refusing to meet her gaze.
“how long has this been going on?” her voice comes softly, so softly that your chin starts to wobble.
“nothing’s been going on, yoongi and i are fine.” you wanted to believe your words but anyone with two eyes and ears could see nothing was fine with you two.
“is that what you are telling yourself?”
“what else am i supposed to do?” your glare turns sharp and angry, you were fed up with everyone coddling you, you felt claustrophobic enough when you were with yourself.
“you know, if you want to cry, you can. none of us would judge you, you know that very well.” she tries to comfort you and yoongi’s breath turns impatient.
why was she trying so hard to convince you something was wrong, when you were telling her that everything was fine?
why did yoongi feel like she was trying to start a fight?
why did yoongi, a small part of him, feel like a fight was inevitable?
“there’s nothing to cry about, my boyfriend is just busy for an anniversary that might come again, it isn’t as important as what he does.” as you say it, a dread falls over both you and yoongi that there might not be another anniversary.
his heart free falls to his feet.
he had been busy; he wasn’t lying about that but yoongi hadn’t checked on you all this while. he can’t remember how many dates he canceled.
but that wasn’t his fault, that was life, that was his life and you knew about his life before you entered it.
it couldn’t be yoongi’s fault, it had to be yours.
yoongi’s eyebrows scrunch in bitterness at the defeat in your voice, at the absurdity of the situation he never thought you two would have to be in, at the world for keeping you apart.
he looks away just when your sobs break the silence in the room.
“i thought i couldn’t breathe without yoongi, but i am, i am living many days without him, with only glances of him, i am living and breathing.” yoongi’s head leaves the doorway before you finish your sentence. if you wanted to live without him, he would let you go, he didn’t need you to stay out of pity.
“but it all hurts, and i don’t want to do any of that without him” is what he fails to catch in his anger.
yoongi looks back at the day mournfully now, he should’ve taken you out right then and there, he shouldn’t have given up just because it seemed like you did, his head falls in his hands as he rakes his hands through his hair in agitated motions.
he wasn’t sure if he could win you back.
but he wasn’t going to give up, he wasn’t going to make that mistake again.
-
your days continued, as usual, he made you breakfast and packed you lunch, did your laundry and set them aside, he made sure you ate after you got off work and you both watched a movie or listened to songs together, or anything at all, together at the end of the day.
you were feeling good.
too good.
things were going well enough to make you nervous because suddenly, everything you knew from your breakup to the two weeks of enmity that followed those two weeks, changed drastically.
it felt like everything went back to the way it was and as much as you should be enjoying it, you didn’t, without confirmation of where you both stood, you couldn’t.
and soon, there came a catalyst that changed everything once again.
it was a mistake.
yoongi would never intentionally do this.
he took your pile of clothes as he usually does, placing them in a bucket and preparing to do your laundry along with his.
yoongi’s heart thrums in satisfaction as he places them in the washing machine, he always felt good doing chores for you, he doesn’t know why and with how well things were going, he dances and sings his way to the laundry detergent and whistles happily as he pours it heavily over your clothes, making sure to add extra fabric softener.
he leaves to do some light work in his studio, not knowing the mistake he committed.
yoongi was gunning to ruin your life, you were so sure of it.
nothing else could explain your sopping wet blouses, supposed to be white, at your feet.
you gape in horror as you pick the pile apart frantically to search for any blouses that could be salvaged, after all, these were all you wore to work, and your head falls in defeat once you see all of them in multi-colors instead of their usual stark white.
your hands tighten by your side as you feel hot all over with pure rage, you quickly grab the ex-white blouses and storm into the living room where yoongi scrolls casually on his phone, his pout whistles out tunes which fade away as he catches sight of your heavy steps towards him.
you throw your blouses at his feet and your nose flares, yoongi jumps in his seat.
“what the fuck happened?” he gasps out, not understanding the anger in your eyes.
“yoongi, this isn’t funny.” you manage to say beyond gritted teeth and he scrunches his eyebrows.
“what isn’t funny?” he frowns in confusion.
“stop acting dumb, i will fucking force detergent down your throat” that raises concern in him, he looks down at the pile of clothes by his feet.
none of the whites were whites anymore.
fuck.
“okay, listen i swear this is an accident, i’ll get you new on-“
“i wear these to work! what is wrong with you?” you point down at the pathetic pile of clothes by his feet with hands shaking from anger.
“you know, i wouldn’t do this intentionally, i am aware you wear these to work, let’s go out now and get you new shirts, i’m sure some shops will be open” he gets up from his seat, searching for his keys.
“don’t act dumb yoongi, it doesn’t suit you at all.”
yoongi starts getting frustrated, why don’t you believe him?
“let’s go and get them before the shops close” he tries to remain calm.
“i’m not going anywhere with you.” you stay rooted in your place and yoongi’s patience starts to run thin. “i’m telling you, it was a mistake, i’m not crazy enough to do this intentionally, now let’s not fight and get you shirts you need for tomorrow before we can’t.”
“don’t act like you are some hero, you are the one who ruined them!” you don’t understand why you are so angry or why you can’t seem to move from where you stood.
“and i’m trying to fix it.” he grumbles out, slamming the keys on the counter beside him.
you stare at the keys with heavy breaths and he stares at you, his anger melting as quickly as it came to the surface.
“let’s go.” he takes the keys in his hands again.
maybe it was the confusion that finally manifested with an ugly head.
maybe you hated how comfortable you got around yoongi again.
maybe you are seeing nothing but all his mistakes until that minute.
maybe you aren’t being fair at all.
but you snap.
“you think you are the only one who does important work?” you didn’t mean to get personal or bring up the topic that broke you both up again, but you couldn’t help it. your arms cross against your chest as yoongi spins on his heels to turn back to you.
“what’s that supposed to mean?”
“you clearly think you are the only one in the entire world who does meaningful work, the rest of us are just slaving away for money and security, but of course, the great min yoongi works for the greater good, for the comfort of many, for millions who adore him, that is why any work that is not his, is not valuable” your voice drips with venom and mocking as you take slow steps towards him, yoongi’s face falls into his usual glare as he watches you speak.
you poke your finger against his chest, your voice quivering with poorly controlled fury, “who the fuck do you think you are? do you think that writing a few songs and getting some records will erase how horrible you make people you are supposed to love, feel? do you think that you can get away with everything because your name is not just a name, but also a brand? i can at least say that my name belongs and serves only me, can you? you are nothing but walking merchandise that anyone can buy.” again, you never meant to say all of that, you know better than to call anyone an object but that was the thing about your anger, your anger had the power of making you say the most vicious words in the world and you had never learned to control it.
“you don’t mean that” yoongi forces himself to say because those words from anyone else, wouldn’t mean jack shit to him but coming from you, they speared his heart over and over again. he waits, he waits with his sinking heart that you would agree with him, he doesn’t believe in god but at that moment, he wished for every power to let you agree with him.
the air grew heavier around you both as you let out a sarcastic laugh.
“i have never meant anything more. you fucked with my work life, you know how much of an asshole my manager is about dress codes but you did the one thing that could ruin weeks of work for me, and you did it all by yourself, so congratulations min yoongi, you have once again proved to be the worst thing to ever happen to me” you clapped slowly as you stepped away from him, your face grim and dark as you turn away.
yoongi’s heart clenches as your words circle his body in a dangerous tornado.
walking merchandise that anyone can buy.
walking merchandise that anyone can buy.
walking merchandise that anyone can buy.
walking merchandise that anyone can b-
your glare slips as the words you uttered sink into your skin, and by the time you turn back around, yoongi’s eyes already gathered enough tears that they run down his face.
“is that what you’ve thought of me till now?” his voice breaks and so does your heart. “yoongi, no-“ you step towards him but he backs away, his defenses climb back right infront of your eyes as his body suddenly looks too far away.
“that’s not fair, you don’t get to tell me now, that you thought i was merchandise, that i keep hurting everyone i love, when all i’ve done these past weeks is try and win you back.” your world stops spinning as yoongi admits to his trials.
you feel like the biggest asshole in the world.
“yoongi, you were right, i didn’t mean-“ you walk over to him with hesitant steps, he doesn’t back away this time but he doesn’t let you finish either.
“i know i’ll never be worthy of you, i know i can only try but i’m trying, god knows i’m fucking trying because even if you can live and breathe without me, i can’t do any of that without you.” your own eyes start to tear up as you reach to wipe the wetness of his cheeks and yoongi takes a shaky breathe in as his face involuntarily cuddles into your palm.
“and you were wrong that night, i will never move on from you, i am simply not capable of moving on from you, because i have never loved anyone more than i’ve loved you, i’ve never wanted someone as much as i have wanted you, every bit of me belongs to you, none of me is mine anymore. and it took you being away for me to realize that.” yoongi’s confession stops time and space. he feels exposed like someone stripped him naked and threw him into traffic but he finally lets you know everything he’s dreamed of telling you.
you press your forehead against him with a wobbling chin and cup his face with shaky hands.
“did you ever think, that by loving me, you were hurting me too?” you needed him to know the extent of his pain, the depth of his scars. yoongi lets you tell him, he needed to know as well.
“every day, i waited.” the ball in your throat gets tighter as you speak and yoongi hates that he’s the reason why.
“every single date you canceled, every night i fell asleep without you, every meal i had without you, all those days i went without seeing you, i need you to know that it killed me slowly, that it made me a shell of the person i am.” yoongi felt shame rushing through him at your words, at the pain he caused you.
he would understand if you didn’t let him in again.
he wouldn’t try again if you didn’t want him to, he has too much respect for you.
“i love you too much to not give you a chance, heck i would probably give you a chance even if you don’t ask for it.” he looks up with blurry eyes.
“but i need to believe that it will be different this time, not just know that it will be.” you step away at that, staring at yoongi who was left standing with a burden that suddenly fell on his shoulders.
how was he supposed to make you believe that?
could you not trust his word alone?
but then again, his words haven’t exactly ended things well for you both.
“how do you want me to show you?” he needed to know, there was nothing he needed to know more.
your breathing stalls at his words.
“please tell me.” his voice breaks as he whispers that, yoongi’s eyes gathering tears again and your heart falls to your feet at the redness coating his eyes.
you wished none of today would have happened.
“yoongi.” you whisper back but you don’t even know what he could do to mend things, you are not sure he can but you can’t deny him a chance.
you don’t have an answer for him.
“i am going apartment hunting soon” you confess finally, and he feels his breath get knocked out of his chest. “oh really?” he asks, sniffing as he looks away.
“my friend knows this real estate agent person who set me up for a few tours, you have to understand why i had to do it.” he knows exactly why you had to do it and he hated knowing that it was all because of him.
but he wasn’t going to give up after ripping his heart out for you.
“i’ll come with you.” yoongi nods and you frown at him, “yoongi, you really don’t have to, i know you are bus-“ he cuts you off, “i am not busy, let me come with you, i want to at least make sure you move into a nice place.” that was a total lie but it wasn’t like yoongi had a lot of options left.
you ponder for a while, and yoongi waits patiently for your answer, he won’t push you if you deny but he will be as stubborn as he can be without frustrating you.
“fine, i’ll let you know by tomorrow.” you finally give in and without another word, go back into your room. you close your door with an exhausted sigh, your face aligning with your reflection across the room.
your eyes were redder than ever and all the energy had been sucked out of your face, making you look sick and you felt sick too, your entire body was aching and you wondered if yoongi felt this way too, if he was as tired, if he felt like the world was pulling his body down, if he maybe wanted to give up because of this feeling.
you stay several minutes this way; you hadn’t thought you would call yoongi merchandise. you, of all people, knew how stressful his job got but you no longer wanted to use that as an excuse for how he treated you.
“how do you want me to show you?”
those words sent a shiver down your spine at that moment, it was the desperation that drenched his voice, the way his hands were shaking beside his body, and his eyes that looked through every inch of you, trying to find ways to convince you.
a slow knock drew you out of your mind, your hand locking around the doorknob to pull it open, and there stood the reason for all your pain and yearning.
yoongi held a tray of hot soup with ginger tea, and a bunch of chocolates, his gaze settling everywhere but at you, as he stood with shifting feet.
“you didn’t eat anything.” you didn’t realize you hadn’t eaten all day but apparently, yoongi had and that tightened your chest around your heart a little more, suffocating you with the love you held for him a little more.
with trembling fingers, you hoped he wouldn’t notice, you take the tray from his hands and place it on a table, and yoongi turns to leave, he didn’t want to bother you too much, he just wanted to make sure you ate.
you pulled on his wrist, not exactly sure of what you will do next but somehow, you needed to touch him, feel that he was real and that you both were here, so lost but still together.
“t-thank you.” you stutter out, every other word you had woven all these months stayed trapped in your mouth. yoongi stared at the hand that held his wrist, he had almost forgotten how out of breath this used to make him feel. how he used to lose nights of sleep imagining you and him, in a house, waking up next to you, falling asleep with you, long before you had both ever committed, yoongi had imagined every day in his life with you in it.
he can’t believe how close he is to losing all of it.
“we should talk, yoongi.” you feel tired but you won’t be catching any sleep in the state the both of you were in, he would spend all night worrying about you, and you would spend all night worrying about him.
yoongi silently followed you into the guest room, it was still strange for him to see you in another part of the house, he eyes the makeup that was scattered on the vanity, the clothes lying around on the sofa, your socks at the edge of the bed and as silly as it sounded, he hated that none of this mess was in the room you two shared.
“i’m still going to see the apartments” you start off awkwardly, taking a seat on the bed and yoongi stood at the corner of the bed, hating that it felt wrong to sit next to you at the moment.
when had it become so bad?
“and i’m still coming with you to see them.” he concludes and gathers all his courage before plopping down next to you. if today didn’t go the way it did, you would laugh at the distance between you two and pull him closer and tell him to stop acting funny, but none of that felt right.
“i think you understand you fucked up” you say, finally looking up at his figure next to you and you shouldn’t have, your resolve already was spread thin, and looking at yoongi didn’t help.  “i do.” he agrees and nods shamefully.
“what are you going to do to fix it?”
“anything you want me to.” his answer is quick and firm, he was prepared for anything you would ask for, but you were tired of asking.
“it’s not about what i want, yoongi. i need to believe that you want this as much as i do, and that you’re prepared to fight for it, asking me about what to do is you just handing over the responsibility to me instead of at least trying to figure it out by yourself.” he listens intently, and puts himself in your shoes.
“i took a break from work.” your eyes widen at him and you have to force your jaw shut because you could’ve imagined anything but not those words leaving yoongi’s lips of all people.
“you, what?”
“work is good, very good but it was keeping me from you and it was hard to make that decision but i can always work, i can’t lose you. i can lose millions of dollars, this house, all my clothes, everything but nothing mounts to losing you.”
you have to force yourself to look away when he says that, because you never could have imagined that you were worth all of that and more to him and you are well aware of his deep affection for his work which makes it all the more sentimental that he was taking a break for you.
“i want to be worthy of you again, i want to spend time with you, i want to take care of you, i want to be anywhere around you as long as you want me. i thought i was working for us, for us to be comfortable, but i got selfish in the middle, and i ignored the person who kept me going when it got too hard.” he pauses, his breath shaking as his eyes fall shut. he remembers the exact second his chest almost blew up at the sight of you leaving home, he never wants to experience that again.
“it’s all on me, i should’ve never let you feel like i didn’t love you, loving you is one of the only things i can do right.”
“besides music.” you add in hopes to lighten the mood and you are successful when a full grin grows on yoongi, one that has your cheeks warming up with joy.
“besides music.” he agrees, “but i’ve done it for enough time now, i just want to love you, in the way you deserve to be loved. which is why i’m asking, no i’m begging for you to let me do this right, one last time.”
“what will change? if i say, yes?”
“all my time will be yours; all of my attention has always been yours and it will remain yours, i will make your food like i always have, we will go on dates whenever we want, and we will watch all the movies we’ve wanted to watch but couldn’t, we’ll do everything we used to do but better. it won’t go back to how it was but i don’t want us to stay as the shadow of who we used to be, because we’re meant for more than that.” he says sincerely, with his heartbeat echoing in every word and you couldn’t just pretend like you didn’t hear it.
“as much as i try to will this feeling away, i can never stop hoping for us.” in the next second that he utters those words, you throw yourself in his arms, and your final resolve breaks as his shaky hands snake down the length of your back like he can’t believe he gets to hold you like this again.
the first tear slips without knowledge, secretly and it disappears in his shoulder, his tear disappears in the crook of your neck. the tears that follow, fall shamelessly, without any intention of stopping and none of you say another word, not another ‘i need you to stay because i’ll lose the important piece of me if you go’, not another ‘i love you, like i’ve loved nothing else and losing you scares me like nothing else’, all of those remain unspoken but they hang in the air around you.
“i believe, with everything in me, that we’re meant for more than this.” yoongi braves to look at you, his eyes zeroing in on the curves of your cheeks, he hates that he was the reason for the tears that have fallen on them.
he can’t let it ever happen again.
“do you?”
-
“this one has beautiful floor-to-ceiling windows, i heard you have a passion for reading, so the sunlight will be perfect.” your agent says enthusiastically as he walks you through the sixth apartment you’ve seen today.
“she also has a passion for sleeping so that won’t work.” yoongi groans as he walks behind you, your face grows red as you slap him on the arm.
“if you’re going to complain about every house, just stay outside, i will look through them.” you grit your teeth at him but your heart softens when his mouth pulls into a whine, “our house is perfect, i literally don’t understand why you’re moving.”
all yoongi has done since he’s stepped out of home is complain about every single house you’ve been to.
“the closet won’t hold half your clothes.”
“a big kitchen is useless for you.”
“this literally looks like a druggie’s hideout.”
“it’s too white.”
no, you are not sure what he meant with the last one either but all you know is that he’s whisked you away from all of them before you could even consider them as options.
“we’ve talked about this, and we agreed that space could do us some good, and no, our house isn’t perfect, my bookshelf has no space left.” you complain lowly so that the agent doesn’t hear you but lo and behold he does. yoongi, on the other hand, can’t remember when he agreed that space would do you good, hell that’s the last thing he wants.
“which is why this house would be perfect for you, the bedroom offers a stunning full wall bookshelf that you can stock up with all of your reads without compromising for space!” he cheerfully chatters and yoongi’s jaw tightens, he hates this agent with all his body and soul even if he’s known him for an hour.
“i can build a bookshelf from scratch” he mumbles grumpily but he can’t help the way his heart flutters when he sees you catch sight of the bookshelf. it’s everything you ever want in a bedroom, a proper vanity, a low-set bed, perfect lighting, and of course, the majestic bookshelf.
your smile grows as you trace your fingers over the plush vanity and the bookshelf and yoongi’s face breaks into a half-smile.
it’s bittersweet, to have you, but in a different house, not the home you’ve built for years but yoongi would never deny anything that grew that smile on your face.
“i really like this one.” you beam at the agent who sighs out in relief but maintains a professional smile, “if you’re all set for it, i’ll get the paperwork ready.” he offers immediately and your eyes pass on yoongi’s figure in the doorway. he smiles at you encouragingly, as if he’s okay with it, but you know he’s not.
just then, yoongi’s phone rings and he excuses himself to step out to take the call, right before he leaves, he hears you say, “i’ll take this one” in a lovely, sing-song tone that he knows you only use when you’re truly happy. his shoulders slump but he knew that this would happen today, he had told his heart all night to not give up on him.
he answers the phone with an irritated tone, he didn’t know how to feel, he could barely listen to the person speaking to him on the phone, he wanted to be happy just for the fact that you agreed to give him a second chance, and that you were excited to spend time with him, but he couldn’t help the sinking in his chest at the thought of waking up and not seeing you.
“no, i am not coming in for work next week, i already told you this, don’t call me again.” yoongi says in a calm but stern manner, the person tries talking again but you were out of the house, and yoongi could care less about anything else.
“did you sign the papers? did you need a pen? i think i have one in my car, let me go grab it.” he rambles and hastens to make his way to the car but you bite back a smile and grip onto his hand.
“yoongi.” you step into his open arms and hug his torso, yoongi is confused but his arms wrap around you, and unconsciously you both are swaying in each other’s embrace.
the house was great but being in yoongi’s arms for these two minutes felt more like home than any house in the world and every corner of the house reminded you of the lack of his presence.
the kitchen, where he won’t cook, where he won’t make fun of your dishes.
the couch, where his headphones don’t lay carelessly.
the bedroom, where his side is neatly arranged while yours stays a mess.
the balcony, where he won’t sip his coffee dramatically at sunset to amuse you.
and the bookshelf, that he won’t help you fill with all the books he gets home, just because they reminded him of you.
you had wanted a home and space but you could find both of those in yoongi.
“you can build a bookshelf, right?” yoongi’s eyebrows scrunch at your question, he almost feels offended that you have to ask that.
“um duh, you know i can.” he whines and you giggle into his chest.
“then, i’m not moving.” yoongi’s arms almost fall away at your words, a strange mix of relief, gratefulness and content fill his every crevice as he tries not to hug you tighter, a punishment for even thinking of keeping you away from him.
and he will take this mix of emotions and remember it forever, the day you gave up on space to stay with him, he will remember the favor you did for his heart for as long as he breathes.
“i will build a million bookshelves if that’s what you want, all you have to do is stay, forever.” forever is a big word, a word yoongi never believed in, always saying that everything in life was on borrowed time but with you, it feels like too short of time.
you knew how he felt about forever so for him to say it to you, rushes into your chest and spreads with a warmth that makes you feel all things giddy and good.
he says nothing, no words, just keeps you in his arms after time had kept you away for too long.
“let’s go home, yoongi.”
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peppermintquartz · 2 months
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"Evan?"
"Yes, babe?"
"Were you ever interested in Eddie?"
Buck nearly chokes on his juice. Coughing, he waves aside Tommy's startled concern. "Uh, I kinda need to. Okay. Are we talking in general or, like, specifically romantic attraction? Sexual attraction?"
Tommy shrugs. He's still shirtless at the moment, which means the morning light gilds his chest (and chest hair) in gold and bronze. Buck has seen this sight for months now, and he still utters a silent thanks to God for making Tommy's nipples ultra sensitive.
"Evan?" The older man tilts his head quizzically.
Oh, right. Buck sits back in his chair. "I guess I did kinda feel some way about him when he first showed up? I mean, he's good-looking. And he has very pretty eyes."
Tommy is chewing on a bite of sausage. "So how come you never made a move on him?"
"I don't know. Never thought about it, really. I mean, once he showed me Christopher, I just wanted to know more about the kid." Buck takes another careful sip of his guava juice. "And after that, either I was dating someone or he was dating. We were just punks trying to get through our own stuff. I never even considered it." He frowns at Tommy. "Why? What's got you asking?"
Tommy glances at his scrambled eggs and shifts in his seat. "Last night, when I was out with Hen and Chimney, they talked about you two being best buds. And Hen said that she'd thought you two would've made a cute couple." His cheeks flush a dark pink. "That was after several rounds of drinks, but, uh, it stuck in my head."
Feeling annoyed at Hen, Buck reaches under the table to pat Tommy's knee, knowing that it will be restlessly bouncing. His boyfriend, Mr Tommy "So Cool" Kinard, needing Buck's reassurance before he can once again be at ease in his skin. It makes Buck feel warm and protective.
"Maybe only in appearance," says Buck, thinking through the issue. "But our personalities would clash if we dated, I think. I mean, I'm not good at giving people space. I'd have smothered him by week two. You don't mind telling me if you need to be alone for a bit, and I like that you always let me know when you're ready to be us again. I don't think Eddie would ever say that until he's fed up, and then he'd shout it or give me the cold shoulder."
"You two seem to do well together as a unit though. And you love Christopher."
"Christopher is lovable because of who he is, not because I know his dad," Buck says, a little sharply. He squeezes Tommy's knee. It stops moving. "Eddie and I are best friends, and we love each other. But... I've seen him almost die, twice, and I would think that if I felt romantic love for him, that would have been the moment, you know? Buried in mud. Almost losing him to a bullet. But all I felt was terror of losing a friend I trust, and having to tell Chris about it if the worst happened."
Buck can't hide the tremor in his voice, and now it's Tommy's turn to hold his hand.
"I'm sorry you both had to go through that," Tommy says sincerely, his gaze soft.
Taking a deep breath, Buck exhales and smiles at his boyfriend. "With you, I just wanted to, I don't know, I was curious about you, about everything that had to do with you. I thought I only wanted to be your friend, and yet I was so upset after Eddie and you took off to watch the fight in Vegas, I kinda... Well, I was actually angry at Eddie, looking back on it. Irrationally so. I've never felt that sort of jealousy. And, yes, I did think it was because of Eddie that I was jealous, but the moment I saw you on the basketball court I wasn't angry at you at all. I was... Well, I was happy to see you."
Tommy chuckles. "I was trying not to show how happy I was to see you there too."
"So, yeah," says Buck. "Long roundabout way to say that yes, I did think Eddie is attractive, because I have eyes, but I've never felt giddy and light the way I do when you smile at me. Both of you make me happy, in different ways." He leans over to peck a kiss on Tommy's stubbled cheek. "I'm the luckiest man in the world."
Tommy relaxes. "No, I am." He takes Buck by the chin, exactly how he did it that first time, and draws Buck in for a proper kiss. "Thank you. Didn't know I needed to hear that until I did."
"I'm glad you asked," says Buck, "instead of stewing over it until it drives you mad. And I'll always be honest with you, okay? I promise."
"Ditto," replies Tommy, kissing Buck again, just because.
--
edited on AO3
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multi-fandomfuckboy · 2 months
Text
Stranger Than Fiction
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Part 28: Games
Billy Hargrove x Reader (Slowburn)
Part 1,... (Masterlist)...Part 28, Part 29 (Coming Soon)...
AN: lol I'm back on my bullshit. Word Count: 3,874 Warnings: allusions to abuse
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It’s a short ride. Neither of you speak, allowing the music to fill the space between you. It’s comfortable. You listen to each song as the cassette plays through the specific mix curated by its maker. Max had shown you a few of these ‘mixtapes' Billy had made the day you waited with her. You don’t fully understand how he’s able to get each song to seamlessly blend into the next despite the variation in artists and rhythms. 
Then a song comes on that grabs your attention. It’s the same loud tune, a guitar continuously strumming along with the beat of drums and bass. The thing that stands out to you are the lyrics. 
“People think I’m insane,  because I’m frowning all the time…  I need someone to show me the things in life that I can’t find I can’t see the things that make true happiness,  I must be blind.”
“Who sings this?” You ask, glancing sidelong at Billy. 
“Black Sabbath.” He tells you, keeping his eyes ahead. “It’s one of their older songs but it still holds up.” He explains pulling to a stop in front of his house. When he moves to cut the engine your hand reflexively grabs his wrist, stopping him. 
“Wait. I want to hear the rest.” You tell him, using your other hand to turn up the volume.   Billy doesn’t fight you, watching you in silence as you listen to the rest of the song. 
“Make a joke and I will sigh And you will laugh and I will cry Happiness I cannot feel And love to me is so unreal… I tell you to enjoy life I wish I could, but it’s too late”
Your heart gives an uncomfortable squeeze for a beat as the song ends. There is a tense moment before the next song begins where you notice Billy's pulse under your fingertips. You don’t know why you're squeezing Billy’s wrist so tightly. You slowly uncurl your fingers, sitting back in your seat. The lyrics bounce around in your mind as you sit there. Billy finally cuts the engine, ending the music as well. 
“You okay?” Billy finally asks, lifting a brow. You nod.
“Yea, it’s just weird. How something can sound so loud and angry but under it all it’s actually really sad.” You explain. “Like a cry for help.” Billy’s lips quirk up slightly.
“Maybe that’s what they were going for?” He says. “Music is just another way to tell a story. I’m surprised you’re not more into it.” He tells you, moving to exit the car. “If you thought that was good I’ll have to show you some Bon Jovi.” He goes on as you follow him out of the car and up the steps towards the house. “I’m assuming you have no idea who that is.” Billy says with a smirk. 
“Yea yea, save it. Max already thinks I’ve been living under a rock for the past 17 years.” You reply with an eye roll. Billy huffs a laugh. 
“That little shit wouldn’t know dick about music if it weren’t for me.” He says, pulling out his keys. His words are harsh but there is no heat to them. 
“Well this is a first.” You quip as he unlocks and opens the front door, stepping to the side to let you enter first. “A whole different experience than coming in though the window.” You joke, stepping into the house. 
“We can always go around back if you’d feel more comfortable.” He jokes back, following you in. You take a moment to really look around as Billy closes and bolts the door behind you. You’ve never been in this part of the house, only glimpsing at it through windows. It’s not a large space and it’s clear that 4 people occupy the small domicile. Bits and pieces of everyones lives are scattered around. 
“I think I’m good.” You reply. You notice that there is a clear clash in interior design through the house. The free weights contrast with the decorative rug under them. Beer cans stacked next to decorative shell decor on the mantle. Someone had tried to make this house a home, but there was something off. It felt like two personalities were struggling to mesh into a comfortable middle, it was unstable, chaotic. 
Billy moves around you to lead you deeper into the house but before you can move any further Max’s voice calls from her room. 
“Billy, I need to go to the arcade! Where did you-oh.” She stops short seeing you in the living room. For some reason it feels like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t, a pit of anxiety taking root in your stomach. 
“Hey Max.” You greet, giving her a half wave. She just watches you skeptically. Her narrowed eyes dart between you and Billy. 
“What’s your malfunction?” Billy snaps after the silence lasts a moment longer than is comfortable. 
“Are you two dating?” Max asks bluntly. 
“What?!” Both you and Billy ask in unison. You share a confused glance before turning back to Max. Your face heats exponentially. 
“Mind your own business you little shit.” Billy bites at the same time you try to explain. 
“He’s tutoring me in history.” A smirk, eerily similar to Billy’s, spreads across Max’s face. 
“Is that what they call it these days?” She asks, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall, a taunting lift in her brow. 
“If you want a ride, I would shut the hell up.” Billy says sternly, narrowing his eyes at the redhead. 
“Jeez, learn how to take a joke.” Max huffs with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. She ducks back into her room, leaving you and Billy in the living room. Billy just shakes his head, clenching his jaw as he heads for his room. 
“I swear if her attitude gets any worse Neil is going to lose his shit.” He mumbles, pushing his hair back from his forehead. “Be ready in 20 minutes!” He yells after her. The only confirmation that she heard him comes in the form of a dramatic groan. 
“That’s how all kids are at that age. I was so argumentative my mom and I didn’t have a pleasant interaction for weeks at a time, and don’t get me started on Hopper. I’m pretty sure I took years off his life with my attitude.” You chuckle fondly at the memory of your painful growing years. 
“Sometimes being a kid isn’t a good enough excuse.” Billy replies calmly. Your stomach twists uncomfortably remembering how Neil had looked at his own son that night not so long ago. 
“Neil and Susan are in Indianapolis Christmas shopping, so I’m playing chauffeur for the day.” Billy explains, entering his room and heading straight for the bed, flopping down on it. 
“I don’t mind helping watch her.” You offer without much thought. You hover in the doorway, suddenly nervous about being in his room alone with him. It’s not like you had never been in his room alone before, you spent many nights sitting across from him on the bed pouring over history lessons, keeping your voices low to not wake anyone else in the house. But something about being here in the daylight, not sneaking around, it makes your stomach swirl. You glance around, his room looks the same as it always does. Bed half made, cigarette butts stamped out in the ashtray next to the cassettes on the nightstand. You do notice that there is now a small dent in the wall next to the mirror, but you can’t be sure that it wasn’t always there.
“Neil would kick my ass if he knew I pawned my responsibility off on you.” Billy explains, propping himself up on his elbow to see you. You absentmindedly skim your fingers over the outside of the doorframe.
“It’s not ‘pawning’ them off on me. We would do it together.” You reason with him. Your fingers catch on something cold and metal on the outside of the doorframe. Leaning back to glance at what you’re touching you see the latch of a lock. Glancing at the outer side of the door you see the other half of the latch. Something cold prickles down your spine.
This isn’t just a teenager wanting privacy, the way this latch is set up, it would function to lock the door from the outside. Why would anyone need that? Your mind struggles to make sense of it. 
“He wouldn’t see it that way.” He tells you flatly. 
“Then don’t tell him.” You say simply, stepping fully into the room. “I’ll help you out today and I’ll be gone by the time they get home. “ you explain, sitting gently on the edge of the bed next to his legs. “Just like when we painted the porch.” You remind him. You watch something dance behind his eyes at the memory from this summer that feels like a hundred years ago. “Consider it part of my tutoring payment. I know the food isn’t a fair trade.” You insist. When he finally nods, giving in, you have to smile. 
“Fine. But only because the idea of dealing with a prepubescent she-devil by myself makes me want to stick needles in my brain… and leaving her alone is not an option.” He tells you, sitting up next to you. His thigh presses against yours, and the proximity sends sparks over your nerves. 
Remembering the promise you made yourself before leaving home you try to scoot away to put some distance between your bodies. Billy notices the movement immediately. 
“Oh sorry, am I making you nervous?” He asks, leaning in even closer, one of his arms going behind your back. He’s not touching you, but he’s close enough that you can feel him if you lean back even slightly. You struggle to hold his gaze.
“No.” You say simply, not trusting your voice to say more without shaking. 
“You sure?” He asks, lifting a brow. You feel him lean in even closer, you swear you can feel the heat coming off of him. You force yourself to hold his gaze and remain still, fighting the urge to pull away. Like a game of personal space chicken.
“I’m fine.” You practically whisper, your voice sounding too loud with how close he is. When he chuckles you can feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek. His eyes shift between yours. You can see the flecks of green in his sky blue iris. Your breath mingles with his and you smell his last cigarette mixed with spearmint gum. You swallow thickly, gritting your teeth together in defiance. 
“You can tell me if you’re not.” Billy insists, his voice just as soft. He’s flirting but you can hear the seriousness laced in his tone. He’s making sure you know he’ll stop, if you ask. Something about that knowledge eases the panic in you. Shifting slightly you tilt your chin up, watching him the way he always looks at you.
“I’m okay.” You say more confidently. You see his adams apple bob as he swallows, his eyes seeming to darken. His gaze flickers to your parted lips so quickly you think you imagined it. Your mouth suddenly goes dry, your stomach flipping at the memory of what his lips felt like against you-
“Right, that’s what ‘not dating’ looks like.” Max’s voice calls loudly from the doorway. You feel like a bucket of ice water has just been poured over your head as you pull away from Billy. Embarrassment floods through you as Billy leaps from the bed lunging towards the door. 
“Fuck off!” He yells, slamming the door closed. 
“I still need a ride!” Max yells from outside the door, pounding on it for emphasis. Billy’s shoulders are tense as he stands with his back to you, his arms braced against the door. You see him take a deep breath, then another, bowing his head as he lowers his arms, slightly adjusting the waistband of his jeans. 
“You sure you want in on this shit show?” He asks, turning to lean back against the door. Max pounds on the door again, shaking its frame. You manage a dry laugh, trying to shove all the mortifying shame you feel into the back of your mind. 
“Oh this is nothing. Try telling Mike Wheeler a campaign needs to end early. Kid turns into a gremlin.” You tell him, pushing yourself off the bed. Billy lifts a brow. 
“I’m more surprised that you know what a gremlin is.” He admits teasingly. You roll your eyes. 
“I do have a life outside of this room you know.” You tell him. You won’t admit that the only reason you know the plot of gremlins is because Steve insisted on catching you up on all the big hits you had missed while you were in the hospital, not that you had actually seen it in theaters. 
Billy watches you approach with a healthy dose of skepticism. 
“Come on Hargrove, put on a brave face. I hear they can smell fear.” You joke, clapping a hand on his shoulder. 
“I’m going to be late!” Max yells, pounding harder. 
“Be my guest Loca, I always knew you had a death wish.” Billy says with a smirk. Your heart pounds at the memory of your first meeting. It feels like a million years ago, like you were an entirely different person, and looking at Billy’s confident smirk, the teasing glint in his eyes, you wonder if he’s a different person now too. 
Without another word, Billy whips open the door to reveal a very agitated Max.
“Finally!” She exclaims, turning on her heel striding towards the front door, her bag already slung over her shoulder. Billy shoots you a look over his shoulder before following after her. 
“Hey, Max?” You call, slipping in front of Billy to catch up to her. She only glances at you, still heading for the door. “Do you mind if I tag along to the arcade?” You ask. Your words cause her to halt, turning to face you with the full force of her scrutinizing glare. You feel Billy come to a stop behind you, her eyes dart to him before returning to you. 
“Did he ask you to babysit me?” She asks indignantly. 
“No!” You say, throwing your hands up. “I just thought you could teach me some stuff. I’m not very good and I hear you kick the boys' butts on a regular basis.” You explain, hoping it comes off as genuine. She studies you for another beat, seeming to weigh the pros and cons of allowing you to come with her. Finally, she shrugs. 
“Fine. But don’t try to talk to me while I’m playing. It throws me off.” She instructs, turning for the door. When her back is turned you quickly give Billy an enthusiastic thumbs up, earning another eye roll. 
The three of you climb into the car, Billy turning the volume up to his usual bone shaking level as he whips out of his spot, speeding down the road. It’s a short ride into town, especially with how Billy drives. When he comes to a stop outside the arcade you climb out, pulling the seat forward to allow Max out. 
“I’ll meet you in there.” you tell her. Needing no explanation, Max jogs to the doors slipping into the dimly lit building. You can see the boys' bikes already lined up outside. “You coming?” you ask Billy, leaning back into the car. 
“Hell no. I can babysit just fine from here. You couldn’t pay me to go into that dork pit.” He scoffs. You roll your eyes at his stubbornness. 
“Oh come on, tough guy. Where is your sense of adventure and whimsy.” you ask, only receiving an unimpressed look in return. 
“Whimsy?” He asks, his lip curling at the word. 
“I’ll buy you a coke.” you offer, hoping that bribery will soften his resolve. Billy’s lips press into a firm line, you can see his jaw tick as he grinds his teeth. 
“Fine.” he says after a moment. “But I have to run an errand real quick.” He tells you. Thinking this is some kind of trick to get out of coming in, you narrow your eyes. 
“You promise to come in when you get back?” you ask, extending your pinky to him. He lifts a brow, a dry laugh escaping him.
“What are you 12?” He asks. When you don’t show any signs of joking he heaves a sigh, linking his pinky with yours. “Fine, yes. I promise I’ll come back and watch you be terrible at dig dug, dork.” He promises with a teasing smirk. 
“Good.” you smile, letting his pinky go and stepping back. “And I’m not that bad.” you clarify, closing the door and allowing him to pull away from the curb. 
It turns out that you ARE that bad. 
Max allows you to take the first turn, even offering you pointers, but by the end of your third turn she takes over explaining that she can’t stand watching you throw away quarters like that. You’re a sorry excuse for a gamer, your brain having trouble communicating quickly enough with your hands on the controls. It’s alright though, you have more fun watching Max and the boys take turns trying to beat each other's scores. 
The longer you observe the group of adolescents the more you note the change in dynamic among them. Max and Lucus are openly interested in each other but don’t seem to know how to navigate this new realm of relationship. Mike appears distracted, constantly glancing at his watch. You assume he’s anxious to see El. You know that Hopper has started allowing the two to hang out at the cabin and though you’ve pushed for El to have more social time, Hopper's old habits die hard. His paranoia is persistent. You can’t say that you don’t understand where he’s coming from. 
Dustin and Will seem more irritated than anything with the new shift in priorities within the group. 
After roughly 30 minutes of watching Max wipe the floor with the boys scores, you venture to the opposite side of the arcade. You want to give the group space but also stay close enough to keep an eye on them. You scan the games, searching for one that you can play without too much instruction. Ms. Pac-Man seems to be simple enough, and it’s located in a spot that allows you to watch your group bounce from game to game. 
Inserting your first quarter you begin the game. You’re able to keep up at first, but when the ghosts start to speed up you can't seem to evade them quick enough. After your 4th quarter your pride is stinging. 
“Fuck…” you curse to yourself as once again you are cornered by the little red ghost. Before you can insert another quarter, you feel someone approaching from your left, coming too close to just be passing by, tensing your hand itches to lash out but you stop yourself when you realize who it is.
“Hey.” Keiths’ monotone voice greets you. You know him from school, and to your knowledge the two of you had never actually spoken to each other. 
“Hi Keith.” you reply politely. You aren’t sure why he’s approaching you. You know that he works here so possibly you were doing something wrong. “What’s up?” you ask. Kieth seems to swallow past something in his struggle to speak. 
“I see you around sometimes.” he tells you, unable to meet your eyes. You don’t know what to say to that.
“Yea, I babysit so I come in to keep an eye on my kids sometimes.” you tell him. 
“That’s cool.” he mumbles “You know I could help you with some of the games if you want. Are you alone today?” He asks. You know he doesn't mean for it to sound as creepy as it does but you can’t help your slight cringe. 
“No, I’m actually with-” you move to gesture towards Max but are cut off when Billy appears next to you, casually draping an arm over your shoulders. 
“Me.” He finishes for you, keeping his eyes on Keith who looks like a deer caught in headlights. 
“O-oh, cool.” Keith manages to mumble, taking a step back. “Nevermind then” he manages to get out, obviously resisting the urge to turn and run. Understandable with the way Billy is glaring daggers at him.
“I’ll see you around.” you offer Keith a kind smile. He only nods sheepishly before retreating further into the arcade. Sighing, you swat at Billy’s side, causing him to drop his arm from your shoulder with a chuckle.
“What was that for?” he asks, doing his best to look genuinely confused. You see right through it to the self satisfaction he's really feeling. 
“Did you have to mad dog him? He was just saying ‘Hi’.” you tell him. Billy scoffs, moving to lean against the game. 
“Yea, right.” He says, sarcasm dripping from every word. “You didn’t see how he’s been eyeing you, trying to work up the courage to come ‘say hi’.” he tells you, throwing air quotes around your words. 
“And how long were you watching that?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. Billy shakes his head, his curls falling across his forehead.
“You’re missing the point.” He tells you, deflecting the question. 
“What point is that?” You ask, shaking your head as you dig a quarter out of your pocket and lean over to place it into the game. When you straighten up Billy has taken a step into your space. You could take a step back to give yourself some room, but you don't. You stand your ground, tilting your head up to meet his stare head on. 
“The point is that you’re playing a game you don’t know the rules of and guys like that-” he jerks his chin in the direction Keith had run off. “Will take advantage of that.” he tells you, his voice low. You know he’s too close. That you should take a step back. That the way he’s looking down at you is too personal. That either one of you could close the distance between you with a breath. 
“I’m not really good at games.” you admit, feeling the heat rushing to your face. Still you can’t seem to look away. Billy’s sharp gaze seems to soften slightly at your admission. 
“I know…” He says softly, his eyes shifting between yours. “I just watched you die 4 times and not even make it past the first level of Pac-man.” He says, his teasing smirk overtaking all the gentleness that had once been in his eyes. Finally, you pull back shocked.
“You stalker!” you accuse, Billy just chuckles turning to face the game. “And I was multitasking.” you try to defend your abysmal performance, gesturing to the group now huddled around galaga. 
“Sure, sure. Let me show you how it’s done.” he says confidently, starting the queued up game. 
“Hey! That was my quarter!” You protest. Billy only chuckles again.
“I’ll get the next one, crazy.” he tells you, keeping his eyes fixed on the screen.
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AN: sorry this took so long... again!
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202 notes · View notes
wileys-russo · 9 months
Text
baby’s first christmas II m.earps x reader
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part of the a date to remember universe series
baby’s first christmas II m.earps x reader
"this is nice, isn't it?" you chuckled at your wifes words, the two of you cuddled up on the sofa watching a movie, well you were.
"is it? because you haven't stopped bouncing your knee, checking your phone and looking out the front window since delilah was picked up." you smiled knowingly, mary burying her face in her hands.
"i'm trying!" mary whined with a pout, sinking down further into the lounge. "she's with your mum mary she's going to be absolutely fine. you need to get over this anxious attachment love its going to rub off on her." you moved to straddle the keepers lap with an empathetic smile.
"i know i know. i just worry baby, she's so little." mary sighed, hands resting on your thighs. "she is and i know you are fiercely protective my love but you need to trust she's okay when shes with someone other than you or i." you ran your hands through her hair which was down for once, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips.
“you know one day she’s going to need to go to school, get a job, move out-“ your words were cut off as your wife practically tackled you down onto the sofa, covering her ears and yelling loudly to drown you out. “mary! you’re such a child.” you squirmed beneath her with a shake of your head. “she’s never ever allowed to grow up that is a disgusting illegal incorrect thought shes going to be our sweet little angel forever and ever!” the keeper warned sternly, pointing down at you with a menacing look.
“when?” your wife looked confused at the question. “what what?” she countered with a frown. “when did you learn to control time? you know normally that’s father times job, you might need to grow a beard or something to fit in. don’t know if I’d be into that babe.” you reached up to stroke her chin as she rolled her eyes and pushed your hands away.
“whose being a child now?”
"okay but in all seriousness it's her first christmas my love, this is supposed to be exciting!" you shook her lightly as she finally perked up. "okay okay mary slow down!" you laughed as your wife rattled off a million and one things she wanted to do with your daughter during the holiday season.
"oo when she gets back lets take her for a walk to look at some lights, and have hot chocolate, and watch a movie!" the keeper lit up as you nodded your agreement, tugging the taller girl down into a kiss.
"i'd also like to finish this movie if you'd sit still and stop stressing for another...hour and ten minutes." you chuckled checking your phone, marys mum due to drop delilah back off at five.
“you’ll go grey at your age if you’re not careful about your stress levels baby.” you teased, squealing as her fingers dug into your sides. “watch it, cheeky.”
to marys credit she sat mostly still, though as soon as the clock ticked five she was back into the routine of checking her phone and glancing out the window every thirty seconds, the bouncing of her knee shaking your own body which was curled up into hers.
"mary! for god sakes she's probably stuck in traffic or enjoying her time with her granddaughter." you snatched the girls phone off of her and slid it into your hoodie pocket, smacking her knee to stop it bouncing.
"you're being ridiculous, if anything was wrong we would be the first people your mum would call. now if you want to keep busy and get your mind off of it, go and get the rest of the decorations you've been promising me you'll grab in 'just a minute babe'!" you mocked, raising an eyebrow as the girl went to argue your point.
"yes love, whatever you say love." mary sighed in defeat, kissing your cheek and getting to her feet. "remember; happy wife happy life earps." you smirked as she flipped you off over her shoulder with a sarcastic smile, disappearing upstairs.
she returned a few minutes later with boxes piled high in her arms, depositing them onto the carpet near the tree as you dropped to your knees and started sorting through them.
"that was exhausting." mary complained as she collapsed onto the lounge. "baby you went up the stairs, into the spare room, into the closet, grabbed the boxes, came downstairs. you didn't even train today!" you laughed at your wife, though her chance to respond disappeared as the doorbell sounded and she was on her feet in seconds flat.
"hi julie!" you greeted the woman warmly as mary flung the door open, snatching delilah up and out of her pram cooing at her, completely ignoring her mum as you elbowed her harshly. "yeah hi mum." mary mumbled dismissively, attention completely locked on the squirming baby in her arms.
"would you like to come in for a cup of tea? it's freezing!" you offered, the woman thanking you for the offer but declining, giving you a tight hug and rolling her eyes at mary who waved but otherwise continued to ignore her.
"mary! that was so rude.” you scolded your wife, smacking her shoulder making delilah giggle once you'd put away her things. "oh did you like that bubba?" you cooed, punching your wife again and grinning at the adorable giggles that followed.
"oi! stop teaching her to be violent." mary warned, kicking you away with her foot as she hoisted delilah onto her hip and returned to the living room. "she can learn that from you sweary earps." you teased, earning yourself a filthy look.
~
"look at those! aren't they pretty lilah." you bounced delilah up and down as mary tickled her chin, both of you melting at the giggles which followed. "god she laughs at everything now!" you sighed happily, mary pushing the pram around as you wandered the streets looking at lights.
"i'm surprised she can even see given all those bloody layers you've got her trapped in, like a little burrito!" mary smirked as you pushed her with your free hand, delilah again giggling in delight. "its the middle of winter mary of course she's bundled up. don’t pretend as if you would have dressed her any differently and you've got about five layers on yourself!" you pointed out, your wife holding her hands up in the air unable to argue as she sipped on her hot chocolate.
at her request you swapped, you now pushing the empty pram as mary wandered beside you chattering away to delilah, pointing out house after house and trying to get her to speak. "say santa, santa!" you laughed at her efforts, the poor girl barely able to speak much more than a few words among her baby gibberish.
"babe i think my toes might drop off and her cheeks are quite pink, lets head back yeah?"
~
"oh that is so cute." mary squealed as you balanced a santa hat on delilahs head, the baby crawling about on the ground in front of the tree as you and your wife snapped a hundred and one pictures.
the three of you had spent the rest of the evening after dinner dancing around the house to christmas music as you finished putting up the rest of the directions, mary offering up for the two of you to host your families for christmas dinner this year which was sure to be an interesting experience.
"oh! baby i forgot have a surprise." you raised an eyebrow as your wife jumped happily to her feet with so much eagerness that she tripped on the edge of the carpet, racing off as you rolled your eyes. "mama is so silly sometimes! yes she is, yes she is." you cooed to your daughter who was sat up on the carpet in front of you with an adorably lopsided smile.
you snapped another photo of the santa hat perched on her head with her little candy cane pyjamas and sent it to both ella and alessia, getting an influx of texts back demanding more pictures as you rolled your eyes and tossed your phone up on the sofa.
between marys national and club team mates and your own friends and families there was already a small village of presents for delilah stacked under the tree, then add in yours and marys inability not to spoil her rotten and you'd needed to move half of them into the other room to save space.
"close your eyes please beautiful!" you heard your wife call out from another room as you did so, hearing her footsteps return to the room and the floorboards squeak a little as she sat back down on the carpet.
"hands out." she ordered, snatching up your daughter and sitting her in her lap as you hesitantly opened your palms. "baby its nothing bad! do you not trust me?" mary huffed at your obvious hesitance making a smile curl onto your lips.
"okay, open." you felt something round and smooth dropped into your hand as you opened your eyes again. "oh my god mary." you breathed out, the small golden bauble reading 'babys first christmas' in beautiful calligraphy.
"its perfect. i love it!" you sent her a soft smile, leaning over to reward her with a tender kiss, a pair of tiny hands wrenching their way between your mouths as you broke apart with a laugh, both of you attacking delilahs little face with kisses instead.
"i thought we could get her a new one every year and then when she's older she'll have all these little baubles and ornaments to pass down to her own kids." mary admitted as you could have melted into a puddle then and there.
“i love that idea. once she’s a bit older she can even make some of her own!” you tickled under the girls chin making her giggle adorably as both you and your wife swooned at the sound.
"not that you're allowed a boyfriend or a girlfriend or anything until you're at least thirty missy!" the goalkeeper warned the small girl seriously making you laugh. "lets get her to hang it before she goes down." you suggested, the two of you standing with mary holding delilah.
grabbing her tiny hand you held the bauble between your finger tips, guiding her hand to hang it on the tree. "perfect! just like you." mary blew a gentle raspberry on delilahs cheek who let out a tired giggle and a yawn.
"you're it! i put her down for her nap at lunch time." you patted your wife on the back and kissed delilah goodnight, collapsing back into the sofa as mary disappeared to put your daughter to bed.
you busied yourself making the two of you another hot chocolate before flicking through christmas movies as you awaited your wife to return. she did so a half hour later, having changed her hoodie as you grinned knowing exactly what that meant.
"load of washing tomorrow then?" you teased, the older girl mocking you under her breath and flopping down on top of you, her body laid out between your legs as her head rested on your chest.
"oh you know me so well." mary sighed happily as you selected the holiday which was forever her favourite christmas movie. “no quoting it word for word or you can sleep on the sofa.” you teased, carding your hands through her hair with a smile, mary grabbing a blanket off the back of the sofa and draping it over the two of you.
"our first christmas as mothers." the keeper beamed, moving so her chin was resting on your sternum and she smiled softly up at you. "the first of many baby, i love you mrs earps." you smiled softly.
"i love you more mrs earps."
571 notes · View notes
keyotos · 1 year
Text
swear to be overdramatic and true
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summary ⎯ different wedding scenarios w/ the hsr men. like they are all different. none of you are getting married in this tho. modern!au
includes ⎯ dan heng, gepard, blade, sampo, & jing yuan
notes ⎯ i want to go to a wedding so bad after tiktok kept on showing me crazy rich asians-esque venues (i love crazy rich asians)
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dan heng
⎯ you promised him you’d go for the food (dan heng is not one for parties), you ended up staying for everything else.
⎯ a close friend of yours was getting married and invited you to their wedding. you were so excited and ready while dan heng was like ehhhggggg
⎯ dude is not a party-goer. but you really put your all into convincing him to go. you brought out puppy dog eyes (didn’t work), pros and cons list (didn’t work), 15 slide google slideshow (didn’t work), and finally: begging on your knees (worked).
⎯ so now, you guys are here: sitting at a table by yourselves (everyone else was dancing/mingling) and sharing a slice of wedding cake.
⎯ secretly, dan heng loved weddings. he loved the joy everyone felt and he really did enjoy the food.
⎯ he would never tell anyone this, but he was taking notes for his future wedding (preferably with you). he takes note of the theme, the food, the venues. he’s very observant of these things.
⎯ the one thing he did not like about weddings was the partying afterwards. call him boring, but after sitting in a cathedral for two hours got him exhausted.
⎯ but he could make exceptions for you. you seemed to love the party aspect of weddings: you bounced to the music and you waved your fork around like a microphone when there was a song you liked.
⎯ dan heng wished he could have your loud and exciting spirit and love for after parties, but he found himself done for the day. so now, the two of you were eating cake while most people were on the dance floor
⎯ dan heng felt bad about it; he felt like he was holding you down from your happiness because he was not the party type. he didn’t want to burden your enjoyment.
“if you want to dance, you should dance,” dan heng let go of the arm he had wrapped around you.
“what?” you furrowed your eyebrows. you took another bite out of the shared cake.
“you don’t have to worry about me. i’ll be fine. you have go have fun,” dan heng repeated himself with utmost seriousness. you almost burst out with laughter.
“i don’t need to dance to be happy,” you chuckled and interlocked your fingers with dan heng’s, “as long as i have you around, i’m perfectly content,” you grinned.
⎯ yeah. dan heng definitely enjoys weddings.
dan heng returns your smile and wraps his other arm around you once more. he pulled you closer to place a kiss on your temple. as long as you’re around, dan heng is more than perfectly content. he is overjoyed.
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gepard
⎯ you two are executives for a wedding planning company; it’s not your company, it’s pela’s. you two are friends of hers and just so happen to work there together.
⎯ you two are the best in the wedding planning game. you two are also rivals.
⎯ you guys are practically trying to outdo each other with every plan. the theme, the decorations, the music: whatever it is, one of you is striving to be better than the other.
⎯ you and gepard bicker so much that some of the maintenance people think YOU GUYS are the married couple.
⎯ gepard blushes so hard that you would think he just had a heat stroke. he quickly brushes of the comment and gets back to work.
⎯ you two are just so… different. but you’re the SAME. whoever’s idea it was to put you two together on an assignment needs to be fired bc most of the time you two are bickering 😭
“why would you make that the theme?” you questioned gepard, “that doesn’t match the wedding venue at all.”
“technically it is apart of the venue. they have two,” gepard corrected you. smartass
and also, “don’t you dare move that. it’s perfect where it belongs,” you ordered.
“it’s actually not,” gepard counters, “it’s not centered.”
⎯ you end up getting so frustrated that you have to walk off the scene and run to starbucks.
⎯ but there are some points where you see gepard in a different light. like when he helps you set up the fairy lights. also when he helps you lift heavy things.
⎯ oh yeah and the fact that he caught you when you fell from a ladder.
you didn’t know how you managed to slip from a ladder, but you did. you thought you were about to face imminent death until you felt strong arms wrap around your thighs.
“what were you thinking?!” gepard exasperatedly asked.
“uhh, that i could reach it?” you brushed him off, trying not to acknowledge the position that you were in at the moment. you were also trying to ignore how fast your heart was beating, but that was blamed on adrenaline.
⎯ even though you and gepard argued for half of the time, there were a few (many) accidents, and someone spilled punch on the ground; the wedding venue ends up looking nice thanks to you and gepard!
⎯ at the end of this tiring and long day, you sat down at one of the tables and ate a few bites of leftover cake. that is until gepard randomly comes up to your table.
gepard extends his hand to you, “would you like to dance? as a way to celebrate the happy couple?”
you raise an eyebrow and give him a sly smirk, “you deign to touch the hand of your opposition?” you joked.
“i’m full of surprises,” gepard looks away from you to scan the venue, “just like this venue. it's beautiful by the way. you did well.”
you take his hand into yours; gepard’s hand is calloused and warm. “give yourself some credit,” you pull him out to the dance floor, then you pull him closer to you, “shall we?”
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blade
⎯ you two are some WEDDING CRASHERS
⎯ you first suggested the idea as a joke; you’ve been wanting to go to a wedding after your tiktok kept showing you wedding venues.
⎯ you never expected to actually be wrecking a wedding so soon. you didn’t even know how blade found a wedding to crash.
“are there apps for these things?”
“um… no????”
⎯ you two sneak in undetected and you arrive just in time for the after party!!
⎯ you guys end up sitting in some randos’ seats that never showed up. so for the time being you two were the married couple mr and mx anderson.
⎯ luckily, the people you sat by had no idea what the andersons looked like. they had questions, and surely they will be confused by the end of this night, but you will never see these people ever again!! so you guys answered their questions
“how’s your newborn? we heard you guys just had a baby,” the couple next to you pointed.
⎯ psa for my gn!readers or male!readers, you guys just had a surrogate
⎯ BABY??????? you nearly choked on your food. chivalrously, blade took the opportunity to answer for you.
"we did," blade smiled and rubbed your stomach, "we're hoping for another one soon," he smirked when he looked at you.
⎯ your eyes popped out of your skull and you turned to him. you took the rest of your food down with a gulp and you turned to face the couple across from you.
⎯ once they left, you elbowed blade in his ribcage. or, you tried to anyway, you doubt he felt anything from it.
"what was that?" your eyes went wide. you tried to hide your embarrassment.
"what was what?" blade asked. his tone with filled with mock-confusion. the bastard knew what he was doing.
"please, don't make me say it out loud," you hide your face in your hands, trying not to smile. to say you haven't thought of a domestic life with blade would be a lie.
blade rubbed your shoulder and then slid his arm over your waist, pulling you closer, "it was funny," he chuckled.
you unmasked your face to punch him in the shoulder, "it was mortifying," you laughed.
blade planted a kiss near your ear, "'m sorry," he was not, "let's go dance. enjoy yourself. before the next one comes," he added. you almost shoved him off of you after that.
⎯ blade is NOT funny.
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sampo
⎯ here you were surrounded by so many couples, yet you are alone. you are alone at the bar and you've had waaaaay too many margaritas to be thinking straight.
⎯ you were almost about to leave when a mysterious blue-haired man slid into the seat next to yours.
⎯ sampo had been watching you for the entire wedding. maybe watching wasn't the right word: he had been observing you. that is not the right word either. simply put, he was entranced by you. you were stunning; you lit up the entire room. it's strange how someone like you had no one by your side.
"care if i bought you a drink?" sampo asked, leaning towards you.
"i think i'm too drunk to drink," you slurred. you were tired and single and lonely. not even this random man could console you.
⎯ when you laid your head down and groaned, sampo was a little concerned. he was concerned for two reasons: for your wellbeing and for what he might've accidentally gotten himself into.
⎯ sampo has fallen victim to hangovers multiple times and, judging by how wasted you are right now, you are about to be the next victim.
⎯ he asked the bartender to get you a glass of water. now, he just had to wake you up. or cheer you up.
“hey, you might wanna drink think,” sampo pushed the drink towards you.
you raised your head up, surveyed the drink, and then pushed it away. “nice try buddy. i know you put something in that.”
⎯ sampo’s jaw went agape. he completely forgot about that possibility. of course you wouldn’t take a drink from a stranger that randomly came up to you.
“uh, how about we just get you another glass of water,” he grabbed the cup back and ordered another one, this time with you watching. once you made sure nothing happened to your drink, you gulped it down.
“thanks,” you set the glass down. “i’ll be needing that in the morning,” you groaned.
⎯ even when you’re miserable you’re beautiful, sampo thought
“i get it,” sampo laughed. you two exchanged names and you started to tell the story of why you were so drunk in the first place
⎯ when you finished, sampo remembered every detail of your story. he wanted the sound of your voice to be imprinted into his brain; he wanted the sight of you burned into his eyes.
⎯ and by the end of that night, after you two exchanged phone numbers, sampo was sure to make his dream a reality.
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jing yuan
⎯ best couple alert??? you guys are just there for fun and relaxation
⎯ everyone knows you two are the couple that’s getting married next. just the love that you two have for each other is enough evidence to prove their theory.
⎯ you two are there for the reception, the actual wedding, the after party. like you guys EAT WEDDINGS UP.
⎯ it’s a sweet and silent love. it doesn’t overshadow the wedding couple, but everyone can tell that it’s prevalent and it’s most definitely there.
⎯ everyone can also see the immense love jing yuan has for you just by looking at his expression. as a general, most would think his mind is preoccupied on strategy and tactics. that is not true though; jing yuan would argue that, half of the time, his mind is on you. he wonders about you, thinks about you, wishes about you.
⎯ and his actions?? the way he always pulls out a chair for you so you can sit before him. the way he carefully tugs you to the side if someone were about to hit you. the way his hand rests coyly on your thigh.
⎯ don't get me started on when you two start dancing.
cliche as it is, sometimes i does feel like the world is shining it's light on the two of you when you two dance. you two aren't master dancers or anything. with jing yuan's lifestyle, there is no time for trivial activities such as dancing, but for you he'd always make an exception.
⎯ you two are both awful. omfg you guys actually suck at dancing. like get off of the dance floor LMAO. since you two probably have very busy lives, there isn't much time for fun like weddings. that's why the two of you try to embrace weddings and other fun activities as much as possible
"you keep stepping on my feet," jing yuan laughs. he tries to guide the two of you to an empty slot on the floor, but fails.
"i'd be able to dance properly if someone stopped knocking me into others," you jokingly retorted. even though jing yuan was a general, all his poise and prosperities was washed away on the dance floor.
"i highly doubt that," he twirled you. you leaned closer into his chest this time, melting into his body. he was warm; a good contrast to the chill of the room. even with his shitty dancing skills, you think that you could never be sick of him.
⎯ yeah u two are definitely getting married in the near future. jing yuan is sure of it. after all, he's already gotten a ring.
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