#best restaurant in business bay | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kiwanopie · 7 months

Text

A Lucky Find.

Pure luck, isn’t it? (Geto Suguru x fem!sorcerer!Reader)

cw: yandere if you squint. mention of misogyny and inappropriate work place relationships, graphic descriptions of curses and body horror, death by mutilation involving a curse (Not you), mention of religion, only specifics about reader is that she’s visibly very attractive and may have long hair (no descriptors though, it could be a lace) Suguru is out of his mind. You will not be called a monkey in this one.

wc: 3.9k

You’re not a very talkative assistant.

Granted sometimes you’re inclined to wonder if talking would’ve made so much of a difference to the position you’ve been put in, but you’ve never been a particularly choosy assistant either. You’re great at handling quick business, the calls your boss can’t be bothered to take - studious in your evening planning and you can quick work a coffee run like nobody's business. — You don’t complain about the thin heels they put you in, or the pencil skirts. Mired businessmen with filthy smirks and wondering eyes, or the routine baby talk you get from your degenerate boss. You don’t blink an eye at it. - You sit when you’re told to sit and bark when Mr. Minoru decides to hold that pretty little bone over your head.

“You could use a bonus, huh?”

Today it’s a back rub.

You’re silent as your nimble fingers start to press little groves in his upper back, impassive when he groans. Mr. Minoru, your boss, is a very rich man. He’s the successor of a retired tycoon who was once the successor of another and so forth. He’s an amalgamation of power and fortune and a small legion of nepotism babies that regularly walk in through those mahogany doors just ahead of his desk. An investor, you think. Most conversations he has are about money and the best way to double it; fewer are the ones where he’s actually taking the time out of his schedule to distribute it.

It’s all elite talk. Big men following big men following a perv who believes he’s god. Long outstretched legs that extend as he relaxes himself in his seat and hopes that the movement is enough to encourage you to start on his shoulders.

You like to think you got this job out of pure luck. Met the right man at the right time and stumbled over the deal of a lifetime all for the small cost of a little bit of your dignity. — Not like it was much of a trade from your part time job busing tables at that high-end restaurant. Being yelled at by bratty celebrities at a fraction of the price and coming home smelling reminiscent of a meat locker. Now you’re standing on the top floor of a penthouse suite. Smelling of expensive perfume that your boss totally didn’t break worker/boss relation code for and looking down at the entirety of Tokyo from its bay windows.

Pure luck.

The creature hooked to the upper side of his shoulder unfastens its teeth with a firm graze of your fingers. The steam it emits as it fizzles away is sour.

Mr. Minoru has a pension for starting fights with the wrong people, it seems. With bitter people - scornful people. People who hate him and can’t do anything about it, other than wish him harm or hex him in some way. — Worst are the people who don’t hate him, who envy him. Step into his office with painted smiles and clenched teeth. Who curse his name the moment they leave and leave you to deal with these little “bugs.”

Your nose twitches as its rotten smell encombers. For a moment your pretty face is twisted up in a scowl.

The massages started from an offhand graze of your fingers during a dinner at your old job. Pretty little waitress bending over him in that little work dress and running your finger down his felted coat. You apologize for your familiarity, someone must’ve spilled something on his jacket. ~ But the weight on his back is gone from just that little touch and now he’s offering you a job. You don’t regularly make a habit of helping those you’ve already deemed “afflicted.” But the fucker making goo trails on his back at the time was just disgusting enough to hinder your train of thought, and there’s no way you could’ve gone through your shift without reviling every time you passed his table.

So, now you’re his assistant - and today it’s just a back rub. Thankfully not a request to play with his hair and try not to cringe at the way he shutters from it. A subtle pat on the cheek for his good luck kiss, or a request to sit on his lap while he tells you a story he doesn’t care if you’re listening to. Because you’re quiet.

His not talkative, non-fussy, no complaints assistant.

Like always he fills the empty air in place of your silence. “Ah. By the way, princess. We’ve got a guest coming around after lunch. A real traditional fella. So, we’ll need to be on our best behavior,”

“Apparently he’s got some sort of business opportunity for me in exchange for a few investments,” He sighs when your fingers dip a little under his collar. “Says that in his big fuckin’ haori. Probably cost a few thousand bucks,”

Mr. Minoru shifts his shoulders under your firm touches. “To be completely honest, I don’t really know about it aside from the gag of seeing him in person again. Guy has this weird energy about himself that gives me the creeps. — Says he’s avant-garde. — I just think he’s a weird fuckin’ guy.”

“But,” The exhale he lets out is tempered and whisky tinted, clears out the fresh space in his chest that usually frees up when you’ve got your hands on him. “My old man likes ‘em. Says he’d be good for my health if I kept him around. At the very least build some sorta relationship with him.”

“Too bad my health’s in tip-top shape! Eh, doll-baby?” Minoru twists his head to flash you an expensive smile. Faintly defined cheekbones turning rosy when you return it like you know you’re supposed to. “Got my little guru at my side!”

And your simper, although gentle, is forced. Distantly you wonder if you’re the reason these bugs have become so habitual.

——-

This man is very ill.

Though he walks in with his head held high and a particular spring in his step, your diagnosis is that he must be terminal. He must be diseased and irremediable. In a constant state of agony and so stricken with unwellness that he can’t even think straight. You’ve seen your fair share of “bugs” and rabid disfigured animals that grow out of their hosts like fungus. Some that trail behind like lost children with broken crackling legs - a stench that only accompanies the open wounds whose maggots reach out so helplessly. Disturbing things. For all of it you’ve seen, you’re lucky to say that those cases are few and far in between.

But this,

It has many hands and many faces.

Each accompanied by its own set of teeth. Curling lips that stutter as they rise, etched in lipstick and gum; you find mint leaves hidden in the valley of its tongue, coiling as it softly sings. Watching from afar as it hobbles on its haunches like a drunken man, or of fawn newly grazed. It is steady - and constantly moving. It buzzes like a million bees and yet the man standing next to it is seemingly unaffected.

And so are you.

Your gentility becomes you as you politely bow for the man who you’ve so gracefully led to Mr. Minoru’s office. A practiced curtsy is usually enough to get your usual guests commenting under their nose at your bosses taste in assistant’s, but this man is quiet as he walks past you. So above your head that it almost feels like he doesn’t even know you exist. And that feeling is… off putting to say the least.

You close the door behind him as your boss starts on introductions.

“Ah, so you’ve met my beautiful assistant!” He reaches out his hand. “Minoru. Nice to meet you.”

The genuinity in the man’s smile fastens his eyes into slits as he steps forward to return the shake. “Geto, likewise.”

“Geto, huh? I heard the old man sent you for an investment proposition. My guess is it’s something… traditional?” Minoru gestures toward his garbs.

He’s somewhat clinical in his attempt to look lighthearted, but the sigh he blows out feels trusting. “So this isn’t selling “contemporary” huh?”

Minoru laughs and the thing beside him whimpers.

Your fingers twitch against your work skirt.

You’re a distant shadow lingering behind the conversing men as you step to your post on the far side of the office wall, heels clicking quietly when you bend to fix yourself adjacent to Mr. Minoru’s desk. — You’re not expected to listen much to the conversation, or even understand the matters on which they talk about. Just straighten your back when your boss snaps his fingers and follow obediently when he coos an order.

But even if that weren’t the case, you’d say it’d be hard to pay any attention to anything other than whatever the fuck that is hunched beside the man standing just a few feet away. Singing quietly under its breath and repeating the tune like a prayer. Fearful, shaken, pleaful, dread inducing; overlapping in its many mouths. Your fingernails quietly scrape against each other in your attempt to remain neutral but from a keen eye you’re jarred. Disquietingly moving your eyes from the two men still talking adjacent from you and then it again.

It’s looking at you.

You force down a swallow when Minoru calls your name.

“Quiet thing, isn’t she?” Your boss comments amidst the conversation as you approach them. “Could almost forget she’s here if it weren’t for the eyecandy,”

You smile at him like he’s flattering you but it’s muscle memory. “Sir?”

“Gather up those papers from your desk over there, sweetpea. And hand it to the nice man.”

You almost don’t even wanna turn your back on it.

But against your own anxieties you do as you're told. Even with your nerves frayed as they are. You keep your posture as you hastily skirt to your desk and back across the room again. Nimble, slightly shaken fingers lowering to place it in Geto-san’s hand but he doesn’t acknowledge you even when you smile. Vacant eyes. Bored of you already. —- You don’t know if you should feel more offended or alarmed. But in your curtsy before backing away you decide to split the difference and go for disturbed.

Avant-garde. This guy just gives you the fuckin’ creeps.

He works in health, apparently. From what you’ve gathered in the continuing conversation, he’s a spiritual man who offers health by spiritual means. It’s not a very groundbreaking admission, especially from a man in traditional garb, but he assures that his practices have long surpassed ground theory and have been proven to guarantee actual results. From refractory diseases, mental illness, visible injury; his methods could completely eradicate the need for traditional medicine and take the health industry by storm.

But money is a long factor, longer in the doubtful and non-spiritual. “Non-worthy.” It sounds pointed the way he slips that in, but your red flags aren’t shared with your less than convinced boss.

“Spiritual healing sounds great and all, Geto buddy. But you’re directing services to a pretty biased market.” Minoru crosses one of his legs over the other from his perched position against his desk. “Even with the facts, the money’s in objectivity. You’d get more bang for your buck just saying any Yamada worth his salt can walk in and get rid a’ his sniffles for the right price. - Religion ‘ll just turn people off.”

Geto smiles patiently. “Ah, Minoru-san, we’re not religion based. Religion promotes powerlessness. Our services come from practical people.”

You watch as the creature messily swivels on its crooked legs when he invades its space by leaning back a little. “But to insert certain biases kind of sweetens the deal, doesn’t it? People like things that make them feel special. Even the most useless people should wanna prove themselves in some way, right?”

What a crooked way of thinking.

At your quiet displeasure the mass behind Geto wheezes painfully, wincing when you lock eyes with it. Its song pitches and warbles, chops a little like it’s weeping; but even in its effort to resume its discontent is palpable.

You could almost feel acknowledged by it. By its wandering eyes and its tightened misshapen shoulders. Almost as off put as you are from its spot in the middle of the room. The more you look at it, the more it starts to evoke pity. Even in its unsightliness, it looks misplaced and afraid. - Its song breaks like a cry for mercy and the closer you look at it the more recognizable its purpose becomes.

There are knots in its balmy skin so engorged they bleed and tear. Fabric mincing over fictional scabbing and prayer beads hanging out of its gashes. Every twitch it makes reverberates ricey out of rhythm beats akin to maracas and its song, as out of key as it is, is reverential. Powerlessness. Anodyne through faith. You barely find yourself pitying the afflictions of affected people but in the context of this conversation - it’s watering eyes; you feel empathetic toward this thing and by extension Geto-san.

You assume something awful must’ve started that way of thinking.

Should you even stick your neck out for this guy? You’ve dealt with bigger, more violent ones in any case. But this creature seems peaceful. Following faithfully on its hosts haunches as it waits patiently beside him. You’ll have to be fast and unflashy about it, hopefully the stench from that thing won’t make you hurl on impulse. But if not out of mercy, it would be nice to have it out of your line of vision.

Your eyes cross it again. It’s many eyes well with anguish. You decide that at your next opportunity you’ll get rid of it promptly.

As luck would have it Mr. Minoru’s personal phone rings.

He’s quick in his apologies as he fishes it out of his pocket. Passing a smile to Geto as he quickly bows and makes the few long strides it takes to step out of the door and into the hallway, and a few short snaps in your direction as he points you to the concessionaires reserved for his clients near the door.

You’re practiced as you dip for the little fridge on your left, carefully sliding out a glassed bottle of water from the door and a plastic bag of sliced apples.

“Would you like a snack while you wait, Geto-san?”

He ignores you.

Through a quietly exasperated sigh does he slide his phone out of his hakama and pointedly decide not to acknowledge your awkward stance at the far end of the room. — You know he ignores you because the silence that otherwise permeates the spaciousness of your boss's suite is momentarily disrupted by the sound of your voice bouncing off the walls; followed again by that frigid silence.

This is the guy you’re trying to help.

Even so, your embarrassment is brushed aside in favor of making your way to the small coffee table between him and the other leather seat parallel to his. Thin pencil skirt riding a little as you take wide steps to the little spot that separates him from the empty seat - and you from the thin sliver of carpet standing between he and the now quivering mass.

You bend to place the treats gingerly beside him.

And when you rise you reach for it.

There are practiced fingers circling around your wrist before you can even touch it.

Your fear is potent enough to turn its broken hums into racking sobs as you freeze in his sudden grip. Firmly clasped onto you as he raises your arm over your head and forces you to jolt back with a stuttered breath. Faint greyed markings on the palm of your hand fade but they’re caught under his watchful eye, and through your shock you watch his expression switch.

From confusion, to intrigue, to pure excitement.

Your shock teeters on horror as his pupils dilate. “Now, just what were those pretty fingers planning on doing?”

He seems to revel at the sheer bewilderment that colors in your pretty face from where you nervously stare up at him. Doe eyes lit up by headlights, and the radiative heat of suddenly being this close to his predatory gaze. You stammer. “Wh-? Y-You know it’s-“

“Brought it with me, didn’t I?” He speaks lowly as he circles his thumb over your wrist. “Can’t say I don’t appreciate your concern though, sweetheart.”

You shrink. The absurdity of intentionally carrying a burden like this is as mind boggling as it is chilling. Dread inducing, even. With the kind of bad juju that thing emits there’s no other reason to purposefully let it fester beside you than for motives deeply depraved. Deeply disturbed. The way the air around him murkens and electrifies, and a glint in his eye that makes you feel like prey. — He’s looking at you like you’re dinner right now. And something about that feels trillions of times more frightening than any typical rubbernecking.

After being treated like a ghost by this man this whole time. Now he’s looking at you like you’re a slab of meat spread out for him. Succulent and tenderized, pliant under his fingers. Your soft eyes are rigid with fear as his other hand reaches for you blithely, larger fingers dipping in your loose hair and scooping it gently forward. You glance at it from the corner of your eye.

Smoke curls around his palm.

You suppress with a quiet intake of breath.

Geto-san’s cheeks pinken as he gleefully smiles, emboldened by a genuine tinge of ardor. You do your best not to flinch but it’s futile, his chilled fingers consolingly caress your face as he tuts; and gazes at you like he’s committing you to memory.

“Be patient for me, yeah? I’ll be done in a minute.”

You can’t even begin to guess what that means.

But before you can inquire he’s shushing you with a finger up to his lips. Playfully shooing you away as Mr. Minoru’s footsteps patter closer, and you clumsily re-fit yourself into your professional mask.

“Sorry ‘bout that, pal. Forgot about another meeting I was supposed to attend a little earlier,” He pockets his phone. “No one’s fault.”

He leans against the cliff of his desk where Geto-san’s planted himself again. Minoru glances at the unopened bag of apple slices. “Ah, _____, baby. You were supposed to hand him the good stuff.”

“I’m so sorry, sir.”

“No worries.” Geto laughs airily. “How could anything look nearly as appetizing when you’ve got an assistant like that walking around?”

Your ears burn as Mr. Minoru snorts in kind. “Yeah, fair enough,”

He rolls up his sleeves. “A’right, princess. How bout you hop on over to my lounge and break open the good brandy for my guest and I. Bring us the crystal set. Can you do that?”

—-

The decanter in your hand falls with a dull thump.

There’s no… logical explanation for what you’re looking at right now — Who you’re looking at right now. In any other circumstance deep purples would be expected. Blotched boysenberries and flossy reds, dotted with strained blues. You’d expect tearing - bleeding, audible ginger snaps of tendons and extended bone. A scream even, no matter how silent; all are logically expected. Death is logically expected.

But seeing your boss stretched out like leather, not a full five minutes after leaving him alone with this man, is not.

Your eyes frantically skirt over your boss's heaving corpse from your exposed position at his closing entrance. Watching in repulsed terror as his skin tears and bruises, familiar prayer beads falling out of his flesh like stuffing. - His eyes are rolled agonizingly into the back of his head, mouth opened in a scream. His blood sizzles against the maple of his desk and you can do little but stare in horror.

You flinch as the mainline on his desk starts to go off but you’re no sooner cringing at the way his arm breaks just to reach for it. Bloody fingers pushing the receiver, and cheeks tearing just to respond.

His unchanged voice somehow makes it all the more horrifying. “Hi, Souza. Thanks for getting back to me,”

“Yeah, do me a favor,” You back into the door. “Route about ten million to Geto-san’s organization under investment. And be a dear and sign the invoice for me, would ya?”

You’re gonna be sick.

“So, you’re out of a job now, huh?” You nearly yelp.

Geto-san’s standing just over you. “I’ve got a pretty similar position opened up,” He says casually. “‘Wanna work for me?”

You can barely push out a word. Which, kind man that he is, helps you out by deciding for you. “Ah, Great! I can break you in on Sunday. Here’s my card.”

He smiles kindly as you hesitantly pluck the laminated card from his fingers. Looking at you under mirthful eyes that chill more than they comfort.

“If you’re worried about pay, I can give you double of whatever that monkey gave you. Maybe a little extra if you’re as good as he says you are.”

But before you can recoil at the thought of being stuck under the same kind of boss, with the extra caveat of being a psychopath; he adds with a hint of challenge. “That is, if you can get rid of our friend for us.”

You follow his glance to the creature wearing your boss like a hand puppet.

Do you even have a choice?

Geto-san watches with a keen eye as you warily approach the blinking, bleeding corpse behind your late boss’s desk. Heels clicking slowly against his wooden floors, skin prickling at the thought of even getting close to this thing let alone touch it. There’s a smell that you notice as you move closer. A rotten, discrepant smell that pushes as much as it pulls. Aging, airless skin, barreling toward cell death; only marginally slowed by the alkaline smell of embalming fluid. Too old. Too sour.

But there’s something about it that almost — Hypnotizes. Evokes a kind of nostalgia that almost completely disarms you. Church pews and goatskin, leather hardbacks under frilly gloves; and those damn prayer beads. You can almost hear your grandmother’s voice. The minty sweet taste of stale candies tinted by the perfume in her purse. ~ Watching worship but not understanding it. A contact high of conviction. Your boss’s blood spills and it means something sacred, something reverent. And the closer you get, the more that sacrifice feels for the better.

You flicker a glance in Geto-san’s direction. This guy had this shit on standby?

It’s clammy when your fingers finally graze its skin. Sweaty and twitching, like every touch is a pinched nerve; like every stroke stimulates. There’s movement under the first layer, a hissing under the second. It’s mania seeps off of it in droves and the more you linger on it, the more your stomach twists.

You draw back your hand and rub over the difference in texture.

The room is temporarily endowed with smoke at the snap of your fingers.

They’re both gone when the vapor quickly dissipates, blood formerly staining expensive maple now replaced with its originally polished shine. As well as his chair, his area rug, and any other evidence that could connote what truly horrific fate the man in question had suffered in this very room.

Which is enough to send Geto-san into an ecstatic flurry of applause. “H-Holy shit. Where have you been all my life?”

He’s more focused on the way the weight in your lips shift rather than that being because of a frown. Regardless, you’re still a picture despite it. “You’re gonna fit nicely. — My address is on the card. Come by nine? I’ll have breakfast ready by then.”

He turns with a relaxed lilt toward the exit. “You and I are gonna have a lot of fun.”

The door clicks as the lock disengages.

“Don’t make me come looking for you.”

reblogs are appreciated <3

801 notes · View notes

aesthetic-bbyg · 1 year

Text

BEACON OF HOPE ~ Sanji

LA!sanji x fem!reader

Warnings ! : being yelled at, daddy issues bc it’s the best fanfic seasoning, angst, fluff, abuse from parental figure, double standards, misogyny (or sexism?)

Nattie speaks: a lil something to y’all fed + I need a man like Sanji to comfort me and my daddy issues🙏

ZEFF WAS IN SOME SORT OF MOOD that day. The harsh trudging of his footsteps as he exited and entered the kitchen while bellowing orders was more then enough evidence to prove your point. Nobody in the kitchen even dared to breath the wrong way, afraid of the ex-pirates response. Even Sanji had managed to bite his tongue and hold back any snide remarks to keep the Zeff’s anger at bay.

You avoided any trouble all day, not causing a disturbance when a costumer was being particularly rude. You simply did you’re job was a waitress, took down orders and dropped them off at the kitchen, later coming back to collect the food and give them to the diners. You’d refused to even think about slacking off just a bit, not going over to Sanji for a couple flirtatious exchanges like usual. The Baratie was flooded in a thick tension but all was well, for the most part.

The business was booming with people, that certain point of the day where all the seats were filled with snobby, rich people. You’d been rushing between tables, taking down orders as quick as possible since these people didn’t recognize patience. It was overwhelming and overstimulating, making your temple throb in pain as you dragged you feet into the kitchen. You called out the order in a loud voice, sticking the scribbled notes onto the overhead where Carne cooked up a steak.

“Table 8 says they’ve been waiting for their drink for twenty minutes, y/n, hurry it up!” Zeff’s voice sudden boomed as he marched into the kitchen, you nearly flinched at the sound of his voice, swallowing down a remark about how those twenty minutes was actually a dramatized two minutes. Nonetheless you collected a few cups and took them straight out to table 8, some rich couple and their equally rich kids.

You gave them a kind smile, despite wanting to desperately slap their cocky smirks off their faces. “And are you ready to order?” You questioned in a chirpy tone, reaching for the notepad in your pocket and the pen tucked behind your ear.

“My, we just got our drinks, give us a minute to look over the menu.” The woman scoffed, you sucked you teeth in, blinking slowly and offering another wide grin.

“My apologies, I’ll be back in a bit.” You shoved the notepad back in its place, walking to a booth that was empty, though the table crowded in a mess of dishes. You reached for the sliver platter that held the receipt and a pitiful amount of berry left as a tip. “Assholes.” You mumbled, taking the money and collecting a few plates and cups.

The brewing storm in your head had begun to cloud your vision, sometimes you just wanted to quit and make a dramatic exit out of the shitty restaurant but you never had the balls to. The whole service you’d been good, held your shit together despite wanting to break down on the inside, bit your tongue, but the one moment you got vulnerable ended in tragedy.

In a fit of cursing out some of the customers out in your head, you didn’t take notice of the waiter coming out the kitchen at the exact same time you were entering. The collision led to the shatter of two plates, one cup and a mess of silverware clanking on the floor.

“Fuck.” You mumbled, watching as the waiter scurried away nervously, leaving you at the scene to deal with the approaching man.

“What the hell are you doing!” Zeff shouted, tone practically rumbling the whole restaurant as you stared up at him in utter shock. You felt like a kid again, having to guiltily stand there while an adult went on off on you. The man threw insults that he’d probably regret the next day, humiliating you over a few broken plates. You just stared down at the dirty floor, feeling tiny compared to him. “Clean this up and get out of sight!”

He walked past you, leaving the judging eyes of the kitchen crew to watch as you bent down, slowly picking up the larger chunks. You didn’t even realize that Sanji was approaching till the shadow of his figure loomed over you. You jumped, backing away in fear as you wide eyes met his. The boy frowned, taking notice at the tears pooling in your eyes and you’re quivering lip. You looked like a kicked puppy, that was enough for him to toss the shards of porcelain and help you up.

He took you out the back door, away from the staring eyes as he heard small whimpers escape your mouth. “It’s okay, darling, it’s okay.” He whispered, arms wrapped around your figure, his hand coming up to brush your hair. “The old man is just giving a hard time because he has a stick up his arse.”

You let out silent cries, tears dripping down your face and onto Sanji’s apron, his soothing tone helping ease the tightness in your chest. You felt stupid, and weak, crying over getting reprimanded for something that was your fault. Now your were taking valuable time away from both you and Sanji’s jobs, that’s all you thought about and it made you cry harder.

Funny enough, Sanji was thinking the opposite. He didn’t care about his job, or the broken pieces still laying on the kitchen floor, or even the fact that Zeff could come out any minute and yell at the two for slacking. All he cared about in that moment was you, making sure you cried all the tears you had, making sure that your trembling hands stilled. He placed chaste kisses on your head, standing there until your sobbing quieted down.

He slowly pulled away, hands still placed on your shoulder with a cautious look. “You look lovely, darling.” He chuckled at the sight of the black mascara that began to run down your cheek.

“Piss off.” You muttered humorously, taking the clean rag he offered and wiping away any evidence of your breakdown. “I hate today.”

“I know you do.” He whispered back, taking the cloth and gently swiping away the parts that you missed. “Beautiful as always.”

“Why are old people such assholes.” You shoved your head into his chest, words muffling as you did.

“Because they can’t get it up anymore without breaking a hip.”

You let out a chuckle, smiling against the material of his shirt, his chest vibrating with his own laugh and it calmed you down even more. You took in a deep breath, hands reaching down low, making the cook tense. You grabbed the pack of cigarettes he always had in his pockets, lifting the box with a sly smile.

“Get your head out the gutter.” He laughed quietly, reaching for the lighter in his other pocket as you shoved a cigarette into your mouth.

“Ready to go back in?” He questioned, watching as you puffed out a cloud of smoke.

“Yeah.” You replied quietly, taking a long drag while Sanji opened the door, allowing you to step in first. Gentleman, as always. “If Zeff smells this thing, I’m blaming you.”

The older man hated the stench of burnt out cigarettes that lingered in the air because Sanji had bad habit of lightening one every few hours. The ash tray on the extra table shoved in the corner of the kitchen was full, and Zeff always lectured the blonde on it, Sanji typically never cared enough to stop.

“Blame me all you want, darling, I’ll take the fall each time.” He winked at you, grabbing a dust pan and broom. He lazily swept up the mess, dumping it into the nearby garbage bin, something he knew Zeff would also yell at him about.

“He’s gonna kill you.”

“I’d like to that old man try.” Sanji smirked, giving you that classic flirty look that made the butteries flutter in your stomach. “Now, get back to work.”

You mocked a salut, rolling you’re eyes as you made your way to the kitchen doors, “Yes, chef.”

THE REST OF THE DAY HAD GONE smoothly, the sun hid itself behind the horizon as the dinning area emptied. Most of the guest had migrated to the bar, the party boomed at the other end of the restaurant.

You and Sanji were the only two in the kitchen, he was showing off some new dish he came up with, claiming it was the best thing on the VIP menu.

“We have a VIP menu?”

“Yeah, but it’s so secret that none of the guest know about it, not even the old man.” Sanji grinned, hand off the plate to you. “Now, the food critic decides.”

You rolled your eyes with a playful smile, picking up the fork and scooping up a bite into your mouth. The mixtures of taste were perfectly balance, unique flavors creating a wonderful sensation. There something about Sanji’s cooking that made you feel so safe and warm, you always teased that he was like a granny. He was able to create that familiarity in his food, something you eat every once in a while that reminds you of home.

You placed the fork down, dramatically folding your hands on your lap as you chewed down the food, “This dish, its…absolute shit.” You held back a smile, looking up at the cook.

Sanji glared at you, hands placed firmly on his hips. “You’re starting to sound like Zeff.”

“Ugh,” You groaned, “Don’t remind me.”

“I can’t believe he made you cry.” Sanji slid off into the seat right next to you, watching as the memory of his yelling flickered in your head, lips dipping into a soft frown. “Fuckin’ arse.”

“It really was my fault.” You mumbled back quietly, “But it was the fact that he yelled at me, you shoulda’ seen that look in his eyes.”

“I see it every day, darling.”

You didn’t like to reminisce on the past, especially since it was such a pain to even think about, both physically and emotionally. You didn’t open up about your family, or the crew you use to be a part of before running into the open arms of the Baratie. You were truly a mystery, you’re past locked up in a box and buried deep in the sand. Though sometimes, it escapes, poisoning you’re mind and breaking you down.

Zeff’s blow up triggered that poison, it spread like a virus, clouding you’re head for the rest of the day. Even now, you’d begun to dig up memories you didn’t want to remember. It was enough to make a fresh wave of tears build up, but you refused to cry this time, not allowing a single droplet to escape as you blinked them away. Though the quiet sniffle gave you away as Sanji glanced over at you, taking notice of the redness under your eyes, a silent confession that told him you were upset.

“You all right, darling?” He asked quietly, brows creased with worry, “Zeff isn’t here, he can’t make you feel like shit anymore.”

“It’s not that.” You whispered back, inhaling a shaky deep breath, “I’m just..thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” He asked, a comforting hand coming to hold yours. “If you need to talk about something you can talk to me.”

Silence filled the room as you struggled with making a decision, the truth was you’d probably start crying your eyes out if you opened your mouth. But the longer you held in these memories, the more toxic the venom became, it was tug-of-war between yourself and your conscious. Then again, the same trauma of the memories is what makes it such a hard task to open up.

You licked your lips, squeezing his hand gently and looking down. “I came from a pirate crew, but this pirate crew in specific was my family. Everyone on the ship was made up of all my relatives, mom, dad, siblings, cousins.” You saw the man nod from the corner of your eye, silently confirming his attendance. “My dad was the captain of the crew, and god he was a fuckin’ pain in the ass.” You voice cracked, words beginning to distort as you sucked in a deep breath. “My job on the crew was to basically be a maid, to pick up after the messes he made. Scrub the bird shit off the ledge, mop the deck, shine his shoes, serve him food, serve him drinks, anything a basic human can do I had to do for him.” You’re sadness had slowly began to turn to anger, your eyes lifting to finally meet his. “I got nothing in return, not even a few berry for the trouble.”

Sanji frowned deeply, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “Why would your father do this to you?”

His questioned made you scoff, because it was the same thing you asked the eighteen years your spent on the torturous ship. It wasn’t until you grew out of the naivety that you realized the answer. “Because I was a woman, and as a woman it was my job, my place, to provide service for the men. I was treated like shit all my life, and no one dared to say a thing.” You stood up, hand pulling away from his as you ran it through your hair frustratedly, moving to pace the kitchen. “The men believed that it was the job of a good wife to give and give, while they just take. I seemed to be the only one who didn’t believe this. But no one could ever speak up to the man, the captain himself, god forbid you disobeyed that asshole because he was never wrong, no matter the situation.” You finally sat back down, picking at your nails. “For years I was treated like nothing more then a slave, yelled at for being to slow, never praised for my work, only picked on what was wrong. It changed my way in seeing people, and it permanently left a scar on my everyday life. Hearing Zeff yell at me that way, it’s just..”

“I know, darling, I know.” Sanji cooed, for soft and tender, “That day, when you first arrived at The Baratie, you had a mark on your left cheek.” The cook swallowed thickly, recalling the day you’re feeble body came to the doors of the restaurant and begged for help. “Was that from him?”

The day before you escaped the ship you’d been refused food, as a punishment for not finishing your chores in time. When you spoke up about being hungry and the unfairness of it all, you received a harsh slap across the face. That was it, that was the last bit of disrespect you’d take. So you set off to steal a life boat and run away from the horrible treatment. “Yes, it was.”

“Bloody hell.” Sanji muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What was the name of your families crew?”

“The Calavera pirates.” You replied, Sanji leaned in closed, placing a finger on your chin to lift your gaze towards him.

“I’ll remember that name until the end of my life, and the day I find them, know that your same pain will be brought upon them.” His tone was so serious and low. His threat sent a chill down your spine, and not because you were scared of it, but because you knew he meant it. “You deserved so much better, darling.” He whispered, bringing you into his arms and planting a kiss on your hairline.

Sanji so desperately wanted to open his mouth and say that he’d treat you like a queen if you’d just give him a chance. But the man’s feelings were shoved down before they could tumble out his mouth. He chose to remain silent, allowing his actions to speak for him. With this new confession he made it his mission to take the extra step in making sure you were treated right. He would be your shoulder to cry on or someone to love, whatever you wanted. It was painful, the amount of love he held in his heart and he was unable to fully show you it.

But if he must wait all his life, he will.

sobbing but wanting to smash at the same time

lord pls send help.

#vinsmoke sanji #Sanji #blackleg sanji #Sanji opla #Sanji one piece #Sanji x reader #vinsmoke Sanji x reader #Sanji x you #sanji imagine #sanji live action #opla #one piece #one piece live action #one piece show #one piece fics #one piece imagine

451 notes · View notes

blossomwritesthings · 4 months

Text

𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞. | 𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐬 & 𝐰𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐬

⬷ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬

pairing: felix x fem!reader (afab) // chan x fem!reader (afab)

genre: nonidol/collegegrad!felix. waitress!reader. college au. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. smut - MDNI, 18+ only. reader pov. friends to enemies to lovers au. slowburn romance. lots of pining. cheating. abusive boyfriend/ex. drama galore. the sexual tension is REAL in this one.

content & warnings: brief depictions of violence/a person getting jumped, and the aftermath of that. smut that includes: unprotected sex, breast play, dirty talk, riding, slight breeding kink, creampie, lots of making out, y/n and felix are basally two switches in this ngl. please take care in reading.

word count: 6.2k

summary: ever since you were born, all you've ever known is living a simple life in the small australian coastal town of bridgeport bay. you're content with working at your parent's beachside restaurant angel waves for the rest of your life, and you're happy with your place in the world - you have good friends and an even better boyfriend. that is, until everything comes to a standstill when a familiar face from the past visits town for the summer. and in the wake of his return, lee felix upturns everything you thought you were content with here in your comforting little beach town.

a/n: you guys, I swear to GOD that I did not fucking forget about this fic!!! 💀 trust me, I see all of the msgs and comments in my inbox across my platforms. I've just been too busy and tired from my daily life to keep up with writing much these days. on top of that, I don't feel particularly inclined to write straight-coupled smut rn. plus, my long-distance girlfriend just left from her weekend visit, so besides uni and work, she's been keeping me quite busy. 🤭 anyways, I hope ya'll enjoyed the end of this small series of mine, and thanks for all of the love you guys have shown it over the past year~!! 💗

🌊 - ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ other cool stuff ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋread my rules & guidelines here! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋcheck out my skz masterlist! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋmy wip list! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ skz fic recs [sfw ver]! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋskz fic recs [nsfw ver]! :: 18+, MDNI! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋback to navigation! ࿐ྂ

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). do not copy, spin-off, or write inspired work based off of this fanfic without full permission to do so. ©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

The worst thing about the next two weeks after your moment with Felix in his bedroom was that the entire time, Chris didn’t even reach out once.

There were no calls, no texts, no emails, no letters.

Just… nothing.

And that hurt the most out of everything else.

Pretty soon after your night spent over at Felix’s house, you came to terms with the end of the relationship. With the cheating and all the other shit.

But the one thing you couldn’t shake was the fact that there was complete radio silence on his end.

He didn’t even try to fight for you.

Didn’t even do his very best to get you back.

Instead, he just kept living his life, while he continued to fuck your best friend.

Yeji, on the other hand, had texted and called you at least a dozen times. None of which, you replied to.

She was acting like you two were in a romantic relationship. Like she was Chris in the situation.

It took her showing up to Angel Waves on a busy Friday night to finally be your breaking point. You were fed up with her bullshit. What ensued was a huge blowup between the two of you at the front of the restaurant.

But mostly, it was just you screaming. You who was the one who yelled at the top of your lungs, the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

For the most part, Yeji stayed silent. Just standing there and taking the brunt of all your hatred and disgust. And finally, when you told her you guys were done… that the friendship was officially over, that’s when she started to protest.

Soon, she was yanking on your hands, begging you to ‘not do this,’ and to ‘think it over some because-‘ But you had heard enough. From the moment you saw that long-ass text thread between her and your boyfriend, it had been over.

And just like that, the friendship was broken, and you were having your father escort her out of AW. Before you knew it, he was telling her never to come back again, and never to grace the doorstep of your house, otherwise he’d press charges. Since you had told your parents about the breakup and everything else that had happened along the way, they were fully on board with protecting you from the people who had hurt you so much.

Thankfully, Yeji didn’t go any further. As quickly as she had shown up at the front door of Angel Waves, she was gone. Forever. Good riddance to her, you said to yourself as you watched her walk down the side of the restaurant and towards the parking lot.

Perhaps the worst part about those two weeks after the breakup was the fact that you hardly got to see Felix. Between you grieving the relationship alone late at night in your room, studying homework, and waitressing at AW, you hardly had any free time to yourself to reach out to him.

But because Felix was… well, Felix, he made it a point to text you every single morning and night. Checking up on you and letting you know he was always there, rooting for you. That his door was always open in case you wanted to talk.

And for the most part, you found that you were doing okay. You wanted to be left alone in your thoughts. At least, for a little while. Yet, late at night, when your eyes were puffy from crying and your throat was scratchy, you’d look out of your bedroom window and watch the dark tidal waves ripple in the distance.

The changes in the blue colors of the ocean felt like your feelings throughout that time. One moment they were crystal clear, the next they were the deepest shade of cerulean. Through it all, you were lucky to have Felix by your side. Silently supporting you from afar.

That’s why, when Han Jisung showed up one random Thursday night to Angel Waves during a lull, you were confused out of your mind. He had already been served and was chowing down on a huge burger and fries. When you walked up to him, already smoothing down your apron and dress, he didn’t even pay you any attention.

“Uhm- Ji, what the fuck are you doing here?” You asked incredulously. Because although you guys were friends, he hadn’t frequented the restaurant much, quoting that it was ‘much too bougie for his taste.’

At the sound of your voice, he looked up from his plate and flashed you a wide grin just as he stuffed a couple of fries into his mouth. “Goddamn- this shit is good… did you know that, Y/N?” He laughed as he took another bite out of the burger.

Rolling your eyes at him, you looked around the restaurant to make sure you weren’t needed elsewhere before you sat down in the booth’s seat across from him. “Yeah, because my parents own the fucking place.” You deadpanned, raising an eyebrow his way as he grinned at you from behind his burger. “But I don’t think you came here tonight to devour a burger. So… what’s up?”

He took a swig of his chilled bottle of coke before finally answering your prodding. “Did you know that Chris is in the hospital right now?”

And just like that, your entire world stopped.

Everything came to a standstill.

The noise, hustle and bustle. The energy flowing throughout Angel Waves honed down to a single point as you focused on Jisung’s words.

Because… what, the actual, fuck?

Leaning forward in your seat slowly, you could feel your heart beat wildly against your ribcage as your eyes grew in shock. “I’m sorry- what?”

Jisung shrugged nonchalantly like this news was completely mind-blowing. “Yeah, Jeongin texted me last night, guess he visited him in the ER yesterday. Rumor has it he got jumped or something…” Then he was leaning forward too, eyes floating around the room before locking onto yours and dropping his voice down into a whisper. “But c’mon, a jump in Bridgeport? No fucking way. My bet is, he got mixed up in the wrong crowd involving drugs or some shit.”

“Chris. Got. Jumped.” You said slowly, shaking your head in disbelief as your mind started spinning with millions of thoughts. But the one that came to the forefront, you blurted out immediately. “How bad is it? It must be pretty horrible if it landed him in the ER.”

Jisung was busy stuffing his face with more burger and talked between chewing. “Beats me- Jeongin mentioned something about a few broken bones and some really bad cuts, but I’m sure that fucker will survive no problem.” Since everything that had happened between you and Chris within the past few weeks, Jisung had also cut all ties with him and officially hated his guts. “Serves him right, honestly, from the kind of freakish shit he pulled with you and Yeji…”

After that, Jisung kept talking. But you couldn’t hear him, couldn’t pay attention to him any longer.

Because all you could think about was what Felix had told you a few days prior. How he had to go out of town for the weekend to complete some “interviews” for a dance instructor position he was interested in. He had mentioned something about it being a few hours away, but so suddenly, everything was clicking.

How he told you not to worry if he didn’t reply to your calls and texts.

How he said he’d be back late at night that Wednesday.

You were shooting up from your seat after that, checking the current time on your phone. It read just a little past eleven at night. Hopefully, Felix was still up. Hopefully, he was home.

When Jisung noticed you moving away from the table, he grabbed ahold of your hand to stop you in your tracks. “Where are you going?”

“I think I know who did it.” You began, giving him the look. Jisung’s eyes searched your entire face, and for a moment, you automatically knew when it clicked in his mind. When it registered, with stark clarity.

“He did what he had to do.”

“It’s fucking illegal, Ji.”

Shrugging nonchalantly for the second time that night, Jisung took a dainty sip of his coke. “I mean, if it was me- Chris wouldn’t even be alive at this point.”

You pushed on his shoulder, scoffing lowly. “Well then, good thing you’re not in the same position.” And with that, you were fleeing from the restaurant entirely, ripping off your apron and throwing it on a nearby barstool as you made your way out the back entrance.

Felix’s house rose against the horizon in the distance. You broke out into a run, turning breathless fairly quickly from the adrenaline and worry running through your veins. As you got closer to the white-wooden paneled house, you noticed how most of the lights were switched off.

Save for the one in his bedroom.

Taking in a deep breath of relief, you made to climb up the porch and hoist open his bedroom window. Just like he had taught you all those years ago when you’d sneak into his bedroom after curfew during high school.

The fucking pane wasn’t even unlocked - figured, since he trusted the police officers a little too much in Bridgeport - and soon, you were climbing through the window and sitting down at the edge of his bed.

The nearby bathroom light was on, the warmth radiating from the crack of the door near the floorboards, and you could hear water running just behind the door.

Holding your breath, your hands twisted together with your nervousness. The air suddenly felt so fucking stifling and warm, yet you could feel the gooseflesh running down the lengths of your bare arms as you sat there.

Perhaps you shouldn’t have worn such a thin white tank top when it was on the chillier side of a summer night. Looking down, you realize just how short your ripped shorts were. They rode up your thighs as you sat there across his bed, and you hastily pulled them down to save some form of modesty.

Before you could fix up any other part of yourself, the bathroom door was swinging open and the trapped light was flooding across the entire dimly-lit bedroom. The warmth cascaded across your skin, and when you looked up from the ground, Felix was illuminated by it.

He was… shirtless.

With… messy, dripping wet hair and a pair of loose black sweatpants haphazardly thrown on.

“Y/N- uh, what are you doing here?” He asked hesitantly, running his hands through the back of his hair in the way he always did when he was taken aback. “I just got back from a swim, I didn’t-“

“Is it true?”

“Is… what true?” He raised a dark, perfectly manicured eyebrow your way as he neared his desk. Reaching out, he squirted out a tiny bit of lotion onto his delicate fingers and gently patted the product onto his skin.

“The fact that Chris is in the fucking hospital right now.”

“Oh. That,” he didn’t even seem surprised to hear your words, meaning that he had already heard about it. He rubbed a small amount of emulsion onto his cheeks before flashing you with a tiny grin, staring at you through the mirror. “Minho told me this morning. Heard it’s pretty bad.”

“Show me your hands, Felix.” You said, voice low and icy against your tongue. For a moment, Felix stopped his movements at the desk. He just stared at you from the mirror that was hung on the wall in front of it. And when he made no sign of moving, of heeding your words, you pressed again. “Felix. Show me your fucking hands.”

Felix raised an eyebrow your way, as he closed the bottle of lotion and placed it back on its glass holder atop his desk. “I’m at no liberty to do what you say. You can’t tell me what to do, angel… As much as you probably want to.”

The way the pet name sounded coming from his mouth did something funny to your insides just then. The way it twisted around his tongue and came out softly yet a little bit harsh, too, twisted up everything inside of you and made you want to scream out loud.

But you didn’t know if you wanted to scream at him, or for him.

And before your heart could catch up to what your brain was doing, you were standing up from the bed and your legs were stretching across the floor. The length between the desk and bed frame wasn’t long. And before you knew it, you were just beside Felix, taking ahold of his hands and bringing them into your line of vision.

They were…

Bruised.

Badly cut.

And various shades of violent reds and purples.

Half of his hands were bandaged up, the other halves were completely open.

“Felix… what-”

Yanking his hands out of your hold, he ran them through his unruly blonde locks, sighing heavily. “He’s lucky I didn’t fucking kill his sorry ass. I almost did, that night on the highway- when I saw him hit you like that.”

Reaching out, you grabbed onto one of his hands again and squeezed it slowly. “You could go to jail for this, Lix. Chris- he’ll… he’ll press charges. You know he will.” Your voice sounded strained and desperate. And you could feel the tears pricking at the corners of your vision at the sheer thought of it all.

Of Felix going and seeking out your ex just so he could beat him to a pulp so much, he landed the fucker in the hospital.

Because no, not your Lee Felix.

Not the boy who was known throughout elementary middle and high school as the sweetest human in the entire world.

Not the boy who couldn’t hurt a fly.

Not your sweet, pretty… Felix.

Shaking his head slowly, Felix’s eyes met yours through the reflection in the mirror. “He won’t press charges, trust me. I made sure to fuck him up enough that he wouldn’t. Chris is too much of a coward to ever show his face around these parts again.” He flashed you an easy grin, squeezing your hand faintly in reassurance.

And you actually believed him.

Because if it had been bad enough to land Chris in the hospital, and leave such nasty wounds and scars across Felix’s entire hands, you were pretty sure your ex would never face either of you again.

“But… why? I don’t understand why you’d do something like that?” You began, getting choked up again. Chest heaving slightly, you leaned into his side, breath hitching in the pit of your throat at just the thought of Felix being taken away from your side because of a stupid fight and breakup. “Why would you do it when you know the risks? I can’t fucking lose you, Felix, I- not again. Please.”

At that, Felix was turning completely. So that he was facing you. And then he was pulling you towards him, wrapping his arms around your waist as you buried your face in his bare chest. His warm skin against your lips lit a fire in the pit of your stomach, but at that moment, you couldn’t see or think about anything past your tears. That were steadily flowing down your face.

“I’m not leaving you, Y/N. I’ve done that once, I promised you I wouldn’t do it again.” He said in a soft voice, as he carded a few fingers through your hair in a soothing gesture.

“Why? Why did you do it?” You cried out softly, nestling your face into his naked skin. Your body was seeking out any kind the warmth, from the way that the fright was wrapping around all of your senses in that moment.

For a few beats, everything was silent. The only sound in the entire bedroom was your quiet sniffles. And Felix’s breathing. Then, he spoke in that deep voice of his. “Because I care, angel. A little too much, it would seem. I care way too much to sit idly by and let a man like that walk this earth without having any consequences.”

“Us breaking up was a punishment enough.”

You could sense Felix shaking his head above you, as he held you close to his half-clothed form. “No. He never deserved you, from the very beginning. That’s why I got so angry- on graduation night. Because you couldn’t see what I saw in him… which was absolutely nothing.” As he spoke, you could feel him tensing against you. And only then, did you realize that the tears had stopped. And instead of listening to your sobs, you were listening to what he was telling you. “I couldn’t stand the thought of seeing you with him when I knew he was a horrible fucking person. I couldn’t stand the thought of hearing you talk about him on our calls once I went to Korea. I couldn’t stand the thought of any of it. That’s why I cut everything off.”

Moving away from his chest just slightly, you stared up at him and met his gaze. “You could’ve told me all of this, you know. And I would’ve understood.”

Raising a noncommittal eyebrow down at you, he scoffed lowly. “Really, Y/N? Because your actions from the past say something very differently.”

And without even thinking about it, you were raising your hands, brushing a few strands of his loose blonde hair behind his ears. “Yes, really. Because I love you and I value your opinion so fucking much.”

“No, don’t say that.”

Felix’s words came out deathly quiet, making your heart stop beating in the pit of your chest for a few seconds. Frowning in confusion, you pressed your lips together in a displeased line. “What do you-”

“Don’t say you love me, because we both know that if you did- you never would’ve been with him in the first place,” Felix said slowly, in a breathless kind of way. But despite his words, he was already moving slowly. Hands reaching up, his slender fingers tracing the line of your jaw. Eyes watching the way you breathed out in a shuttering kind of way at the movement.

“So tell me that you don’t. Tell me that you don’t love me.” He continued, even as his hand was slipping behind your neck and his other hand was finding its way onto your hip. He yanked you a little closer to his form.

Swallowing down a mixture of a moan and scream, you met his gaze. And there, you found a myriad of emotions. His eyes were hooded and searching, as they wandered across your face, picking up on every one of your emotions. There, you found love and… desire, too.

“I love you, Lee Felix.”

“That’s not what I told you to say. That’s the opposite, actually.” He said in a gravelly voice, the sound of it rumbling out of his chest and cascading down your entire body.

Shrugging just a tiny bit, you offered him a sly kind of smirk. “Guess it’s opposite day then- because I-”

Instead of words, his mouth was the thing that cut you off next.

The kiss was so abrupt and sudden, that your brain had hardly any time to process it. Then, all of a sudden, you were melting into the feeling of it all. Of his lips pressed against yours, fervently seeking you out. You nearly fell into his arms, if it wasn’t for the fact that he was holding onto your waist with one hand, and the other was wrapped in your locks at the nape of your neck.

“F-Felix-” You moaned out softly in the split second that he pulled away to allow you time to breathe. Then his mouth was back on yours with a searing vengeance, as his tongue prodded at the line of your lips.

And just like that, you let him in. His warm tongue slipped between your teeth and soon you were exploring each other’s tastes in a heated, frenzied kind of way. Almost like, without the two of you even realizing it, your mouths had been craving each other from day one.

Felix pulled on your hair a little bit harder after that, tilting your head back just enough as his lips parted from yours. And when you were about to protest from the lack of his mouth, he trailed his head downward, making a path of gentle kisses down the side of your cheek, across the line of your jaw, and towards the column of your neck.

When he stopped just above your breastbone, where the top of your ruffled tank top started, he stared up at you with wide, imploring eyes. “Too much?” He asked in the gentlest of voices you had ever heard come from a man.

But already, you found yourself shaking your head vehemently. “No- never.” So you let him take control. You let him move you two backward until he was sitting down on the edge of the bed and you were cradling his hips with either of your legs, sitting atop his lap.

“I’ve wanted you like this for so fucking long, I don’t even know what to do with all of the thoughts I have right now…” He whispered, hands coming up to your shoulders and massaging the skin there.

You dipped into his presence, pressing a few feverish kisses against his lips. “It’s okay- I can tell you what to do,” you mumbled in between kisses, tasting him and catching his scent of body wash and salt water. “Take off my top, Lixie.”

And surprisingly, he did what he was told. Soon, he was helping you shed your white tank until you were down to your light purple bralette. Sitting there, on his lap, you watched all the emotions dance across his brilliant face. “You’re so fucking beautiful- I have no words anymore-” He mumbled, eyes roving across your half-exposed chest and catching on the way that your hands stretched behind your back.

Soon, you were unclasping your bralette and throwing it off to the side. You stared back at Felix, your gazes locking. Almost like, he couldn’t bear to move his focus anymore downwards. Like if he did, the moment between you would break and he’d wake up and realize all of it was but a mere dream on the horizon.

“Kiss me, Felix,” you whispered, but the deep, cloying tenderness of your voice suggested to both of you that you weren’t talking about your lips. And just like that, he was leaning forward, beginning to pepper featherlight kisses down the column of your neck and onwards.

Carding your hands through his damp, shaggy blonde hair, you pushed his face a little closer to your skin, guiding his mouth until his lips were hovering over your chest. Then he was looking up at you again, eyes gaping wide open almost like he was asking for permission yet again. If he didn’t get the all-clear from you for the millionth time that night, the entire thing would be ruined.

“Open up, baby,” is all you said in a soft voice. The whispery sound of it floated out into the darkness of the room, wrapping around the two of you just as Felix did what he was told. Like a good boy.

Unhinging his jaw just the tiniest of bits, he easily fit his lips around one of your pebbled nipples. And like magic, like some devilish sex faerie took ahold of his mind, he was sucking on your skin within the next breath. Sucking so good, soon you were throwing your head back in pure ecstasy. Fingers wrapping around his blonde locks a little more, you pushed his face closer to your form.

His teeth grazed your goose-flesh skin, licking every part of you that he could get his mouth on. And when he came up for air, the sound of saliva popping off of your cool tit, Felix was smiling a devious kind of smirk. “Your skin tastes so fucking good…” Then he was eyeing your other nipple, that had been left untouched as of yet.

Peering down at him with a slightly raised brow, you moved across his hips. The single shift in position made him groan out loud in pure agony, a tinge of crimson bursting across his cheeks as you ground down against the hardness between his legs. “Then why the hell did you stop, Lexie?”

And just like before, he was heeding your words. His mouth came around your other pert bud, sucking and licking and kissing. Meanwhile, his hands were busy roaming across your entire body… tweaking your other nipple, grasping onto your hip before skirting up the length of your spine. The entire time, you slowly moved your waist against his, feeling the tent growing just beneath the thin fabric of his black sweatpants.

Each time you danced a little bit closer to where you needed him most, he let out a string of filthy groans against your skin. Your movements prompted him to suck even harder, to drawl out as many heavy sighs as he could from deep inside your chest. His bare chest heaved with breath, as he rarely came up for hair. Muscled pecks and abdomen flexed, constricting every time you edged him a little bit closer to the edge.

When it finally became too much for him, he was pushing away from your wet, pebbled tits. “N-Need to be inside you, right fucking now.” He was practically whining, in that deep voice of him. It was really adorable if you were to be truly honest with yourself. “Please… need to… I need to…”

But the words didn’t make it out of his mouth in time. Instead, you were pressing up into his space, imprinting kiss after heated kiss to his swollen lips. And when you were done, you pulled away just slightly to tuck a lock of messy blonde hair behind his ear. “What do you need right now… baby? Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”

“Need to fuck you,” he started, breathing heaving so deeply that his shoulders shuttered with it. Sparkly eyes peering up at you with a wide, deer-in-the-headlights kind of resemblance. “Need to breed you- fuck you raw, for Christ’s sake…”

He said the last of his words with a kind of venom you had never heard from him. Almost like…

“Felix… are you, jealous?”

Surprise dawned across his entire face then, as the crimson of his cheeks only deepened the freckles smattered across his skin. “W-What? No! Why would you even-”

“Lee. Felix. Are you mad that Chris got to fuck me raw?”

“Well now, how could I be when I don’t know if-”

A tiny smirk started to pull your lips upwards, as you said “Oh no, we definitely did. Most of the time, actually.”

Utter shock burst across his face at your confession. And for a few moments, you felt somewhat embarrassed. To admit such an intimate detail about your sex life with your longtime boyfriend. Especially to the best friend you had known since you were a little girl.

Flabbergasted for a few seconds, Felix raised a finger in the air in a snooty kind of way. “First of all, that is incredibly risky. Second-”

“And like you wanting to do it now isn’t incredibly risky and dangerous too?”

Your snarky comeback threw his argument right back into his court. And he glared your way, rolling his glittering eyes dramatically. “Okay, but this is fucking different. I’m not gonna-”

“Cheat on me with my best friend and then slap me across the face when I try to break up with you?”

“God- will you let me finish, woman?!”

You liked riling him up. It was fun and you had always taken great pleasure in it, ever since you were a young child. So you sat back a little bit, pushing away from his hips somewhat and folding your arms across your bare chest. “I mean yes- eventually, I am gonna let you finish tonight. But okay, make your argument.”

Running a frustrated hand through his silky, damp hair, Felix’s eyes searched the room for the words he wanted to say. “I don’t wanna fuck you because I think you’re easy and then I’m gonna be done with you after tonight. I wanna be with you because I fucking love you. I have, since day one. Since we were little kids, I had a raging crush that grew into an uncontrollable fire and then into a monster.” By then, he was staring right back at you again. Gazes locked, it was like he was searching into the depths of your very soul. You could see so many emotions written across his face then… love, anger, passion… “The only reason I wanna- wanna come inside is because I wanna make sure you know you’re mine and that I’m yours.”

For a few beats, everything was completely silent. Save for the heavy breathing on both of your ends.

Then, a sly kind of grin was flashing across your face as your hands hastily made their way down to your hips, ripping off your shorts at record speed. Way faster than your fingers had ever done in the entire time that you had been intimate with Chris.

And before you could even say anything, before any words were even spoken between the two of you after Felix’s passionate tyraid of love, you felt movement underneath you.

Between your legs, you could feel hands moving. Across your thighs, they danced- spreading, opening, caressing. Until they were pressed up to your very centre, drawling a loud moan from you as they played around your clit. In mere seconds, Felix was slipping two digits into you, opening you up gradually.

“Fuck, your pussy is stretching so nicely for me…” He grunted, leaning into you and pressing feverish kisses to your lips. He bit down on your bottom lip just slightly, and each time he hit his fingers up into that gooey spot inside of you, you swore you saw stars. “Gonna be fun to fuck this tight, pretty thing.”

You twirled your hips across his fingers, shivering in pure bliss each time his thumb caressed your enflamed bundle of nerves. “L-Lix… I… need…” But all semblance of forming words fled from your body entirely, as the heat of arousal overtook your entire form.

“You need me, hmm?” Felix mused in a deep voice, the one he knew drove you up the fucking wall in a subtle kind of way. “Okay then.” He said, and soon, his hands were yanking away from your cunt altogether, as he pushed his sweatpants down and off of his hips.

In mere seconds, he had his fingers gripping your bare ass, nails digging into the flesh there as he helped move you into position. Holding your breath after that, feeling it widen across the expanse of your ribcage, you slowly began to sink onto his cock, which was glistening with precum. The tip sunk in with ease, and when you finally sunk to the base, a deep wave of pleasure ran across the length of your spine.

He was a lot bigger than you had originally thought, and you could feel the tip of him reaching into the very depths of you as he slowly helped guide you back up his length.

“Shit- you feel so goddamn amazing, princess…” Felix panted out loud in a thick tone, and with that, he was gripping your hips and helping you sink back down onto his cock with keen precision.

With each movement of your hips, he thrust up into you, nails digging into your ass cheeks while you leaned into him, grasping onto his chiseled pecks with the force of each long drawl you took. Nothing else needed to be said between you, as you focused in on the passion that was both thrumming through your veins.

Every hit of his cock up into your tightness made the blood in your body boil, and each breath that you took through your constricted lungs brought you a little closer to that blissful cliffside. You cracked your eyes open just a tiny bit to watch Felix’s gaze. The way it was serious and pointed towards the point where your bodies met.

The sounds of skin slapping against skin, of your wetness mixing with his girth, almost sent you over the edge countless times. And each time he sheathed himself back inside of you, you could feel his length growing tighter.

“I-I’m really close, Lix- fuck…” You cried out in a broken tone, throwing your head back as you danced ravenously across his lap. His tip reached up so far into you, that you could practically feel it in your tummy.

Felix shuttered in a deep, cloying breath. And when your eyes widened to focus on him again, he was smirking up at you. Pearly white teeth flashing against red lips, he made to kiss you through the wave of pent-up arousal that was flooding your entire system. “Let go for me, my perfect, pretty princess… it’s okay, you can cum around my cock. I don’t mind.” His words made your eyes cross a little bit in bliss.

And just like that, your body was moving on its own accord. Thigh trembling around his hips, a strangled kind of scream ripped free from the deepest parts of your soul. Within seconds, you were crashing down from your high, the orgasm lighting every part of your closed vision. Otherworldly visions and galaxies splashed across your mind, taking you to another place as you rode through your high.

The entire time, Felix soothed you with beautiful words of praise. And when it was finally time for him to cum, you were only pushed further over the edge of your orgasm. The feeling of him shooting himself deep inside of you made your eyes cross and made you bite your lip in pure ecstasy.

“Goddamn- your pussy feels so fucking good pulsing around my cock like that- milking me dry-” Felix was spewing half-nonsense as he rode out his own high, thrusting up into you and fucking the cum back between your walls. You were incredibly glad that you hadn’t used anything for protection because you knew that your first time with Felix wouldn’t have felt as special if there was plastic between the two of you.

When the two of you finally came down from your highs, it was only a matter of time before Felix was pulling out of you. Groaning at the absence of him, he positioned the two of you so that you were both lying down on his bed.

“Was that… too much?” He asked, turning onto his side to peer into your eyes.

Mimicking his posture, you traced a few fingers across his freckled cheeks which were still warm to the touch from arousal. “Baby, no. It was perfect because you’re perfect.”

He giggled like a little schoolboy at that, grabbing ahold of your waist and yanking you close to his form. He brought his face close to yours, whispering in the lightest of voices, “I’m so lucky to have you in my life again. From the moment we first time, I never wanted to be parted from you, Y/N.”

“You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, Felix.” You murmured, just as he leaned in to press fleeting kiss after kiss against your lips. Then you were pulling away from his affection, offering him a smirk. “Now help me clean myself up.”

“Why? You don’t wanna carry my baby?” He was pretending to be offended, furrowing his brow and frowning in a sardonic kind of way.

Punching his bare shoulder playfully, you rolled your eyes in only a slight bit of annoyance. “Not right now, stupid.”

“Okay, but that leaves the future up for interpretation…”

For a few seconds, you let the silence fade between you. And you could feel the tiny smile crack across the corners of your lips as the realization entered Felix’s mind. That quite possibly, one day, when the two of you were much older, you’d want to carry his babies.

Then, in the blink of an eye, he was grasping your hands and pulling you up from the bed. Leading you open to the bathroom with a bright grin flashing across his lips. “Let’s get you cleaned up, princess.”

And you let him take the lead.

You let him, knowing in the back of your mind that no matter what- he would always have your back.

No matter how much time you spent apart and how much shit happened between the interim.

He had always been the only person there for you, and we would continue to be for the rest of eternity.

Through thick and thin.

First, as a best friend.

And second, as a partner and the love of your life.

Fin.

🌊 taglist: want to be added onto my taglist? well then, comment below on this post/reblog it, and indicate your interest in my taglist and i'll add you... or, you can send me a msg and request to be added!! to be removed from the taglist, please send me a msg and i will promptly take you off of the list.

🌊 tags: @sleepyleeji :: @if-spearb :: @hyunes4ngel :: @drhsthl :: @seosalad :: @toomuchtellyneck :: @endzii23 :: @smally97 :: @ana-marais98 :: @sherryblossom :: @priincehoseok :: @biribarabiribbaem :: @/leyknxw :: @linovely :: @lolqxv :: @linonyang :: @morningstardada :: @taeriffic :: @day6andetcetera :: @hyuka-luvbot :: @linohumina :: @urmomma0324 :: @poisonivy2 :: @nappynapnaps :: @/annsunakai :: @bellamuerte1987 :: @julciaqwerty :: @abbiestearsricochet :: @leeknowsramen :: @maeleelee :: @cb97breathing :: @/wealwayskeepfighting :: @armystay89 :: @drhsthl :: @skzcollision :: @noellllslut :: @skz-streamer :: @hello-2-u-from-me :: @h0p3l3ssromantic :: @bangchanbighandsome :: @imastraykidsfan :: @feellikecinderella :: @hyundumpling :: @/weirdkoaladuck ::@hyunnieshannie :: @astralis-is-typing :: @ivyisnotokay :: @alyssa1000

a blue tag means that there was an error in tagging you. please check your settings for further information.

120 notes · View notes

topguncortez · 1 year

Text

Even More Experience | Bradley Bradshaw

part 1 | masterlist

synopsis: You decide to take the next step with Bradley

word count: 3.1k

warnings: SMUT, virginity loss, p in v, unprotected sex, cream pie, age gap, oral sex (f receiving), a dash of corruption kink, a lil bit of daddy kink. Bradley is big, alright. This is porn with a dash of plot.

Rooster was proud of you. He knew how awful finals week could be, and from how you described your classes this semester, he was glad that chose an “easy” major. He had watched you for the last two weeks be in total study mode, going to bed at random times in the morning, living off of redbulls and granola bars, falling asleep with your contacts in and a highlighter in your hand. One too many mornings, he’d walk out to see you drooling on your business communication notes.

If you would’ve told him six months ago, he’d be standing outside of a lecture hall, with a bouquet of flowers waiting for his girlfriend, he would’ve laughed at you. But here he was, waiting for his girlfriend outside of a lecture hall. He had been nervous at first, dating someone so much younger than him. There of course was the difference in maturity levels, but also the difference in experience. Rooster had been around the world, traveled faster than the speed of sound, almost died and live to tell the tale. The most you had done was move from Missouri to California for college. But Rooster loved you, and that was all that mattered to him. He hadn’t said those three little words yet, still scared that what he had with you was all a dream, but he knew that you could feel his love for you.

You were wearing a simple white sundress with a jean jacket as you walked out of the lecture hall. The feeling of relief and happiness cursing through you like waves on the sand. You wouldn’t ever have to step back into this cinderblock hell and listen to your professor drone on about transtheoreticl theory. Bradley straightened up at the sound of your laughter and pushed off his bronco, grabbing the flowers from the drivers side. He met you halfway on the sidewalk, greeting you with a soft kiss on your lips.

“What’s the occasion?” You asked.

Rooster just shrugged, and put his arm around your shoulder, “Can’t get you flowers and pick you up just ‘cause I like you?”

“Mm,” You looked up at him, “Nope!” He booped your nose as he opened the passenger door for you. He made sure you were secured in the bronco before jogging to the other side and getting in.

Rooster drove right down to the beach, one of your favoirte places to be at. He grabbed your hand and lead you to your favoirte restaurant. He didn’t even stop and check in at the hostess, giving her a wink before leading you to your favorite table, right in front of a large bay window that looked out at the ocean.

“My favorite restaurant, and my favorite spot to sit. . . What are you doing, Bradshaw?” You asked.

Bradley, again, just shrugged, “You worked your ass off these past two weeks and I thought we should celebrate. And what better way,” He reached across the table and grabbed your hand, running his thumb over your skin, “Than with the best mac ‘n’ cheese on this side of the US.” You blushed and leaned halfway over the table. Rooster closed the distance and met your lips.

And Rooster was right about the restaurant having the best mac ‘n’ cheese on this side of the US. The second best had to come from Bradley’s kitchen, a receipe that his mom had sworn by. You were glad that you met someone who could cook and had a strict schedule of eating every four hours. It was sometimes annoying when you’d be studying and he’d place a plate of apple slices and peanut butter right on your calculus homework.

When your belly was fully and Bradley had paid the bill (much to your dislike), he took you for a walk on the beach. The sun was starting to set, filling the sky with beautiful oranges and pinks. You always loved the sunset, but you loved it even more with Bradley by your side. The vibrant colors made his eyes look like pools of honey and you could see the streaks of blonde in his hair from the California sun. His skin also seemed to glow with that sunkissed tan he seemed to always have.

You were standing in his arms, your back against his chest, when you felt that familiar feeling settling between your legs. It had been happening more often since you and Bradley had started getting intimate. You still hadn’t gone all the way, but you were letting him go down on you pretty much anytime you wanted it. But, it was starting to not be enough for you.

There was still that itch that needed to be scratched. And you were ready for it.

You turned in Bradley’s arms, placing your hands on his chest. He looked down at you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You didn’t say anything, but placed your lips on his. His lips were always so soft, probably from the vaseline he put on them every morning and night. One of his hands snuck up your body, and rested at the base of your neck, holding you to him. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling his large body closer to your own.

You pulled away first, letting Bradley lean and try to chase your lips. You giggled, and moved one hand to his chest, resting right over his heart, “Bradley.”

“Sweetheart,” He hummed.

“I’m ready,” You blushed, looking down at your shoes before looking up at his honey brown eyes.

“Ready?” He asked.

“Yeah. . . for you to uh, for sex,” Your ears were ringing and you knew that you were as red as a tomato. You felt Bradley tense and youou closed your eyes, not wanting to see any sort of rejection in his eyes. But he cupped your cheek and lifted your head up a bit.

“Look at me, sweetheart,” Bradley said softly, and you opened your eyes, “Are you one hundred percent sure, that this is what you want?”

“Yes,” You said without hesitation, “I have thought about it a lot and I lo- I mean, I trust you,” You gulped and hoped Bradley didn't catch your near slip up. You grabbed Bradley’s hands and ran your thumb over his knuckles, "I'm ready."

Bradley nodded and pulled you in for a kiss, “Let’s go home.”

— — —

The ride to his house was filled with an exciting buzz. Ever the gentleman, Bradley kept his hands to himself as he drove, fighting every urge to reach over and place his hand on your thigh. He didn’t want to be handsy, in case you changed your mind. But you reached over and grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers and settling it in your lap. He glanced over at you ever so often, trying to guage your emotions. You had a small smile on your face as you hummed along to the songs on the radio.

When you pulled into his driveway, you weren’t sure if you could maintain the same level of calm. You wanted him to take you right then and there like you had seen in all those pornos. Bradley let you go into the house first, kicking off his shoes and locking the door. It was a little awkward as you stood in the doorway, looking at each other, but you knew that he wanted you to make the first move.

“Where is your room?” You asked, surprised that your voice didn’t crack.

“Upstairs,” Bradley swallowed, “Second door on the right.”

You nodded and grabbed his hand, leading him to the stairs. He watched your ass as you walked up the stairs in front of him. You puhsed open the second door on the right, like he had said, and stepped into it. It was a plain, light grey room with a king sized bed in the middle of it. There was a nightstand on either side, both with pictures sitting in frames and lamps. It was a stark contrast to your room, which showed off your personality, but the room still felt like Bradley.

You stood awkwardly across the room from Bradley. He quietly shut the door, and emptied his pockets of his wallet, phone, and keys. You weren’t sure what the protocol from here was; do you sit on his bed? Do you just lie down on it? Do you take your dress off?

Bradley must’ve sensed the nerves rolling off your body, cause he turned and walked right over to you. He gently tilted your head up with a hand on your cheek and pressed his lips to yours. Your hands tangled in his hair, while his other hand wrapped around your back, pulling you closer to him. You could feel his hardening length against your stomach, making your heart start to beat erratically. Bradley’s lips went from yours to your neck, kissing and sucking lightly. If it weren’t for his strong arms holding you up, you surely would be a puddle of want and need on the ground.

“What do I do next?” You asked. Bradley grunted and pulled away from you. He could see your nipples straining against the flimsy fabric of your dress.

“Can I take this off?” Bradley touched the thin straps of your dress. You nodded and lifted your hands above your head, a smile on your face. Bradley chuckled, and grabbed the bottom of your dress, pulling it above your head. You were bare on top, wearing only a pair of white lace panties, “Fuck, sweetheart,” Bradley’s finger trailed down your body, to your naval, touching the top of the flimsy panties you were wearing, “White. . . for a virgin.”

“Mhm,” You nodded, biting your lip, “For you, daddy.” Bradley’s eyes fluttered shut at the sound of that little word.

“All for me,” Bradley’s voice sounded as if he were in awe of you, something so precious and all for him, “Fuck. . . Get on the bed for me?” You nodded again, and climbed on the bed, sitting in the middle, leaning up against the pillows, “Looking like a goddamn gift straight from heaven. How did I get so fucking lucky?”

“I think I’m the lucky one,” You blushed and Bradley shook his head. He gently crawled on the bed, up your body so he was hovering over you. He looked down at your body as if he were committing it to memory. You felt exposed under his brown eyes, and you lifted his eyes back to you, touching his cheek.

“Am I making you nervous?”

“A bit,” You mumbled, “I’ve just. . . I’ve never been naked like this- with a guy.”

“We don’t have to do this,” Bradley said, caressing your hip, “If you want to put one of my shirts on, you can. Whatever is going to be the most comfortable for you.”

“But you like me naked?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Of course,” Bradley kissed your cheek, and squeezed your hip reassuringly, “But if you don’t want to be naked in front of me, you can wear one of my shirts, or I think you left a bra here.”

You shook your head. If you were giving yourself to Bradley, you wanted to give your whole self to him. You grabbed his hand and brought it to your lips, kissing his knuckles, “I’m okay with being naked. You make me feel safe.”

Bradley looked up at you, and you knew what he wanted to say. It was so clearly written in his eyes, and it was ready to slip off his tongue, but he withheld it. It nearly pained him to hold back those three little words, but he swallowed them by kissing your lips.

“I’m gonna get you ready for me,” Bradley said.

“Gonna go down on me?” You asked, leaning up to chase his lips as he moved to kiss his way down your body. He nodded and felt the excitement roll through your body. He swore that there was nothing you loved more than when he was on his knees for you. And it was a good thing that Bradley loved doing it.

Bradley kissed both of your hip bones before he licked a stripe from your hole to your clit. You gasped, arching your back and tangling your fingers in his hair. His name fell from your lips like a prayer as he ate your cunt. His nose was nudging at your clit, as his tongue fucked your opening. You felt your thighs beginning to shake and close in around his head. Bradley pulled back from you, placing a kiss on your pussylips, before leaning over to the bedside table and getting out a bottle of lube.

“What is that?” You asked.

“Lube,” Bradley said, giving you the bottle so you could read it over. He learned that from early on, that you liked to read about the things he tells you, “You’re wet, but this is gonna help. Nothing wrong with using a little lube to help make things slide easier.”

“Ew,” You scrunch your nose, “Sounds dirty when you say ‘slide easier’”

“Sorry, honey,” Bradley chuckled, as you handed back the lube, “You ready?”

“Please, Bradley,” You nod.

Bradley kissed you before sitting back on his heels, taking his dick into his hands. You watched him pump his cock a couple of times, before taking the lube and spreading it over himself. He let out a guttural groan at the feeling. You never realized how big Bradley was until you saw his hand wrap around himself.

“Bradley,” He lifts his head to look at you, “Is it, will it fit?” You squeak out.

He looks down at himself for a moment and then at you, “Yeah, I think,” He took his fingers and swiped them over your cunt, spreading the lube around and pushing some into your weeping hole, “And if it doesn’t, that’s okay. You tell me if it hurts, or if it’s too much,” He leaned down on his elbow, and with one hand, he guided his cock to his entrance. Ever so slowly, Bradley pushed his tip in. You sucked in a breath, feeling yourself being stretched. Bradley watched your face, your eyelids slowly fluttering to relax your body.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” Bradley’s voice was strained as he pushed the tip of his cock into you, “Good girl.”

“More, Bradley, please,” Your hands gripped his body, trying to pull him in closer.

“Gotta go slow,” Bradley grunted, pushing into you slowly.

He took his time with you, not wanting to go too fast and hurt you. You were tight, squeezing Bradley oh so well as he broke through that precious barrier, seating himself inside you. You felt stuffed to the brim with Bradley’s cock inside you, whimpering not only from pain but from pleasure. His hips moved in fluid strokes, pulling out and pushing back into you. A wanton moan left your lips as you tilted your head back in pleasure. Bradley’s rough hand moved down your side, grabbing your thigh and hooking it over his hip, giving him an even deeper angle.

“Oh my god,” You moaned, your nails digging into Bradley’s back.

“Fucking hell,” Bradley grunted. He wasn’t going to last. There was no way he could with the way you were gripping him so tightly and the sounds you were letting out. He squeezed his eyes shut as he buried his face into your neck, breathing in your scent, “I-I’m not gonna last.”

You nodded your head, your mind clouded in pleasure, “Okay, Bradley.”

Bradley couldn’t hold back his release any longer. His grip on your hip tightened as he closed his eyes, and pushed his hips as far into you as he could get them. You let out a gasp as you felt his cum coat your walls, his grunts filling your ears as he fucked himself through his orgasm.

“Oh shit, honey, oh my god,” Bradley groaned out, his hips stilling. You looked up at him with wide eyes, as if he had just handed you the world on a silver platter, “I’m sorry, baby.” Bradley kissed your lips, “I didn’t think I would cum that quick.”

“Why are you sorry?” You asked, running your fingers through his hair.

“Cause I should’ve gotten you off first,” His lips trailed over your collarbones, “I wanted to make you finish before I did.”

“It’s okay-”

“No,” Bradley pulled back from you, shaking his head, “I know you might not cum every time, but you at least deserve an orgasm for your first time.”

You smiled and kissed his nose. You wrapped your arms around his upper body, taking in a deep breath and relishing in the feeling of his body on top of yours. Being with Bradley was like having a weighted blanket around all the time.

“I gotta pull out now,” Bradley said against your skin, “It might hurt. . . and there might be blood,” You nodded, “Take in a breath,” You did as he told, “And breath out,” When you took your breath out, Bradley gently slipped out of your cunt. You couldn’t help but whimper at the loss of contact. He tried to bite back his smirk, but it was useless, “Stay put, I’m gonna get a towel and clean you.”

You giggled as you watched Bradley’s bare ass shuffle to the bathroom, quickly grabbing a washcloth and wetting it. You sat up on your elbows and looked down between your legs, finding light red blood and cum leaking out of you. Instantly you felt guilty and embarrassed about the mess that was leaking out of you and onto Bradley’s duvet.

“Hey,” Bradley said softly, making you look up from the mess, “It’s alright. I need to wash my sheets anyway,” You still had a frown on your face as Bradley kneeled between your spread legs, “Y/N, look at me.” You looked up at him, and he gave you a soft smile, “This isn’t something to be embarrassed about. I’m not scared of a lil blood and some cum, a’right?”

Your ears felt hot as you nodded and Bradley kissed your cheek, before gently cleaning up the mess in between your legs.

“How about, I start you a bath, and I’ll change the sheets and get us some snacks?” Bradley asked.

“Sounds like a dream, baby,” You said softly, “As long as you add in the bubbles and the pink bath bomb.”

Bradley scoffed, “How could I forget?” You let out a squeal as Bradley picked you up bridal style. You leaned your head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat as he walked to the bathroom. Bradley felt his heart clench in his chest, as he placed a kiss on the top of your head. Before he could walk away, you grabbed his hand, stopping him.

“What is it, baby?” Bradley asked, his eyes filling with worry.

Those three little words were right on the tip of your tongue. You wanted to say them, you really, really wanted to. But when you opened your mouth to say them, no words fell out.

You closed your mouth and gave Bradley a tight lipped smile, and shook your head, "Nothing, just make sure the water is hot."

Bradley nodded and kiss your cheek, "Always."

taglist: @damrlova @shanimallina87 @phoenix1388 @desert-fern @mygyn @cherrycola27 @yanna-banana @seitmai @topgun-imagines @bradleybeachbabe @startrekfangirl2233 @xoxabs88xox @atarmychick007 @bradshawseresinbabe @munsonswhore86 @happypopcornprincess @Sophiaslastbraincell @bradswolfe

taglist form

note: should I keep going with these two or. . . cause I got some ideas

450 notes · View notes

quitealotofsodapop · 6 months

Note

since in the Cicada Lily AU Macaque turns into a street cat to play with Bai He, was there a moment where she noticed that one of his eyes is gone and thinks that her cat friend is hurt and needs help (cause she's a little kid and doesn't understand that the injury is healed) so she just drags cat Macaque inside and tells her parents that the kitty is hurt and Macaque just kinda has to deal with being dragged around by the kid?

I imagine they probably take him to a vet or Sandy, and he has to get all the shots for strays and this is his first check up since he's been dead so he probably needs a few of them

referencing this post.

Oh gosh XD

Macaque does his best to play an "aloof but kind alley cat" (he's an actor deep down) so he can keep an eye on LBD's host, only to underestimate how much the little girl comes to adore him.

Bai He is like four when she tries to befriend the local alley cats around the resturant, most often getting swatted or hissed at or accidentally scaring the animals away (loud toddler = cats going "no thanks"). She gets really upset; cus why dont the kitties understand that she wants to be their friend?

Then she hears a deep "Meow?".

Standing at her feet is a long-tailed cat that looks like it's made of pure shadow. A single orange eye staring up at her with curiosity.

Bai He squeals so loudly that Macaque nearly jumps out of his glamour. She scoops the cat up, even with him being almost her size, and cuddles him like he's the best thing she's ever seen.

Macaque feels a sense of warmth at giving the child that was destined to be a demonic host a friend.

Then as she's looking over his features one-by-one ("Fluffy tail! Big paw beans!") the little girl makes a gasp!

And goes running inside the restaurant with her new friend in tow.

Bai He, sobbing: "Baba! Kitty hurt!!" Pigsy, busy cooking: "Huh?" *sees weird cat* "Oh!" Tang, leaning down: "How is he hurt, sweetie?" Bai He, inconsolable: *points at the cat's missing eye* Pigsy & Tang: *share a look* Pigsy: "Sweetheart, it looks like he was hurt a long time ago, but it got better." Tang: "Remember when your big brother scraped his knee really bad and it was under a bandage for a long time? And when the bandage came off, it left a little pale line? It's like that." Bai He, trying to understand: "Really???" Tang: "Yes really, bug." Bai He: "Oh." Pigsy, realising: "Wait, where did you find this cat?" Bai He: *points to the backdoor to the alley* Pigsy: "...Oh we are so getting that thing vaccinated. Probably has fleas or something." Macaque: *insulted growl!*

And cue them taking the weird alley cat (now named "Mr Moonlight" via Bai He) to the vet to get him all his shots. And Macaque having to play "nice kitty" the whole time, even as he's getting weighed, given his shots, and a flea bath. The topic of "fixing" comes up at some point but Macaque quickly glamours himself the tell-tale TNR scars to avoid further mutilation.

In the waiting room they run into Sandy, taking Mo in for his regular check-up. This leads to the old friends reuniting, and Bai He meeting her favorite uncle ever.

"Mr Moonlight" is very protective of Bai He, and spends a large amount of his day lazing around, watching tv (he enjoys joining Pigsy for "Cooking with Chang'e"), and slipping outside for his regular walks.

To everyone other than the noodle shop fam tho, Mac is far less accomodating...

One time Bai He got hassled by kids at the park, and Mr Moonlight seemingly appeared from the shadows and started screaming and scratching at her bullies like a tiger. He got many treats that night.

MK whines about his baby sister being allowed a pet, but his parents are firm that Mr Moonlight ultimately chose them. MK isn't alone for long however, as a large sunshine-orange bird takes a liking to him and becomes his frequent companion. MK names him "Mr Sunshine".

Gee, I wonder who that could be...

#cicada lily au #gif warning #lmk aus #lmk bai he #six eared macaque #liu er mihou #sandy being the best uncle #lmk sandy #lmk mk #qi xiaotian #lmk pigsy #lmk tang #freenoodles as parents #freenoodles #freenoodlesshipping #lego monkie kid #lmk

82 notes · View notes

atrwriting · 1 year

Text

the bee, the bird, the bear -- uncle!carmy x babysitter!reader

ok y’all full disclosure — i think i was super annoyed there was very little writing on carmy because i’ve had this AU idea for so long and i wasn’t sure if i was like… imposing or not, if that makes sense. anyway, i decided that, hey, it’s my blog, i can do what i want

therefore… uncle!carmy x nanny!reader

as always, warnings: major character death, past child neglect and abuse situations, swearing, tooth-rotting fluff, and eventual smut

prologue

an alternate universe where carmy wasn’t only left the restaurant, but rights to michael’s kid.

it was a regular evening at the bear. natalie, extremely pregnant, was escorting guests to their tables, richie was controlling the atmosphere, and carmy was holding down the fort the best he could. that was until the next guest that walked through the doors was a woman... who introduced herself as a social worker.

“it is my understanding that your late brother had no idea of her existence,” the woman had stated to carmy. “the girl’s late mother kept it that way on purpose… but now the mother has passed away as well. you and natalie are the last family she has.”

carmen felt the blood drain from his face, his arms, and every one of his limbs. his mouth fell agape — not because he was stunned, but because he felt like he had lost all control that he had struggled so hard to find and hold onto. carmen had no clue what to do.

zip, zero, none. absolutely none.

the first few days, the four year old girl — his niece — sat in his office and played with dolls and coloring books. natalie was kind enough to pick them up and shove them her way when carmy appeared to still be consumed with shock.

his brother had a daughter. carmy and sugar had a niece.

carmy didn’t know the mother, nor what she looked like — and that didn’t matter. his niece looked exactly like her father, his brother — dark, thick hair and chocolate eyes. her smile was bright and big — so bright and big that carmen thought he was looking at mikey when he was younger, about ten years old. he couldn’t believe his eyes, every time he looked at her — it seemed like a dream, a super fucked up dream that he didn't know if it was fucked up to want to wake up from. he caught himself, several times, glancing in her direction and blinking multiple times — unable to believe what was right in front of him.

natalie had offered to take guardianship of the little girl the moment she saw that look in carmen’s eyes. carmen had to admit — he almost immediately agreed. what business did he have being a parent? he just became a restaurant owner — a good one at that, maybe, but still: he worked late, long hours, and didn’t have more than three plates and sets of silverware in his apartment at that moment. thankfully, the apartment was a two bedroom — but that was as equipped as carmy could be considered.

carmen berzatto was the furthest thing from qualified.

the furthest fucking thing.

did he know that? yes. did everyone know that? yes. was he, and everyone else worried? undoubtedly yes.

but did carmen give up the rights to his niece to his sister? no. he didn’t.

so what did he do?

he hired a nanny or a babysitter, whatever — a friend of syd’s; you, a student, looking for work.

he felt like he didn’t have time to interview you. maybe he did, maybe he didn't — all he knew was that there was a familiar weight beginning to make a home on his chest. he had worked so hard to keep his anxiety at bay, and he tried to shove it down the best he could. he couldn't freak out — not yet, anyway. if he trusted syd, and syd trusted you, then he trusted you with his niece — and his credit card to go buy her things.

when you received the call from syd, you immediately came in after class. you had been looking for work for some time now, and you were grateful that your friend had thought of you. when you first arrive at the restaurant, the first person you saw was the man of the hour. you smiled at carmen, and he did his best to return it.

it was the first time you realized that not everything could be fixed with a little bit of honey and a positive attitude. you tried to remind yourself that syd and her partners had built this place from the ground up, and you found yourself immediately pushing your apprehension down and admiring their work. anyone, from even miles away, could see how much time, money, and effort they had put into the place — something they loved, they were passionate about, something they deemed important.

your smile reflected your restored faith in the man that syd talked so highly about.

but inside… you were worried. you were worried for the young girl, for natalie, who had a baby on the way, for syd and everyone else that relied on carmen and natalie’s leadership, but most of all… you were worried for carmen.

could he handle being a parent?

could you handle being a babysitter?

could you handle carmen, who appeared to be strangers with sleep and relaxation?

only one way to find out.

----

lmk what you guys think :) -L xo

#carmy berzatto #carmy smut #carmy #carmen berzatto #carmen #carmy x you #carmy x reader #carmy imagine #carmy fluff

243 notes · View notes

ahundredtimesover · 1 year

Text

Belong (03) | MYG

Pairing: Yoongi x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: exes-to-lovers-to-exes-to-lovers; actress!OC x basketball coach!Yoongi; summer romance; “long” distance relationship; parallel timelines; angst, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, family drama, mention of sport injury; dreams & moving away; implied depression; basketball and acting talk; 2014 and 2022 Yoongi; shy and nonchalant cocky whipped Yoongi; explicit sexual content (straddling, kissing, oral, penetrative sex) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 17.7k

Series Masterlist

Status: Complete

Series summary: Being an actor has always been your dream. Pursuing it meant many things - leaving the town where you grew up, distancing yourself from your family that had fallen apart, and saying goodbye to the man who made you feel what home was like. When you decide to finally return after being away for so long, you meet Min Yoongi again, and you’re reminded of the summer romance from 8 years ago with the college basketball superstar whose broken dream pushed you away. As you find yourself spending time with him, you’re left to wonder if love changes, if it gives second chances, or if it’s just another illusion that will hurt the both of you the second time around.

Listen to: Incomplete by James Bay; Love Like This by Kodaline; Lose Ourselves by Boundary Run; Driving Hours by Axel Flovent || Playlist 🎶

Present day

Taehyung, sitting in front of you at the Japanese restaurant for his treat, scans the menu then glances up at you and Yoongi going through your orders. He listens as you try to decide between 2 dishes, with the man next to you choosing the one you don’t get.

“What are you getting?” You ask your best friend.

“Hmm,” he sets the menu down. “I’m getting a ‘what the fuck is happening,’ please.”

You blink widely at him as the words process. “What?”

With crossed arms, Taehyung arches his brow.

“Arriving at the restaurant together? Sitting so close to each other? Sharing food?” His eyes focus on you, with a tinge of judgment that you’ve rarely ever seen on him. “Smiling like you’re that 20-year old woman in love? Are you two back together?”

You don’t know if you’ve just forgotten how observant Taehyung is, or if you and Yoongi are back in that bubble you used to have that makes you unaware of how couple-y you both are. You turn to the man next to you who gives you an assured look.

“Your call,” Yoongi says.

“Your call?” Taehyung repeats, gasping. “That’s basically an admission!”

“Oh, stop being so dramatic!” You roll your eyes. “It’s not the worst news you’ve ever received.”

“So it’s true?” He badgers. “You’re back together? Since when? How?”

“Last night. I returned his jackets, hung out at his place, got to talking, kissed… Do you want details?” You challenge him.

“No!” Taehyung scowls.

“Then why are you asking so many questions!” You exclaim. “And why are you being judgy?”

“I’m not!” He defends. “It’s just… it’s been a full day since you got back together and you didn’t think to tell me? Your best friend in the entire world?”

“Well, we were busy,” you shrug.

“I didn’t need to know that,” he frowns.

“You were asking.”

“Just to clarify,” Yoongi butts in. “She woke up early in the morning and planned to leave after we, uh, you know. We only talked about our situation then. So technically, it hasn’t been a day.”

“What?” Taehyung exclaims, turning to you. “You planned to dip and skip your ex?!”

“Can you lower your voice?!” You kick his shin. “And no, I wasn’t gonna leave,” you say to Yoongi now. “I mean, I did stop because I wanted to stay. But that’s besides the point.”

“And the point is what?” Taehyung asks.

“That Yoongi and I weren’t actually good with the ‘moving on from each other’ thing. We still feel something towards each other and we decided to just see where things go from here.”

“So just like that summer… but older. Hmm,” Taehyung hums, his eyes moving from you to your right, as if he’s deciding whether to be happy for you or to berate you.

“Just like that summer,” you repeat, “but more mature, with a past we can learn from. And… happier,” you admit, as you look at Yoongi and once again feel the overwhelming emotion of love and joy. “I’m really happy, Tae. The last time I truly, and I mean truly, felt that… was here.”

You feel Yoongi tighten his hold on your hand underneath the table, as if some confirmation that it’s the same with him.

Taehyung gives in. His whole face that was tense just seconds ago now softens, as he looks at you and recalls how this carefree and genuine smile of yours was a staple everyday during that summer. It’s been tough since you arrived here, but seeing how you’re glowing right now reminds him that only one Min Yoongi can ever make you look this happy. That’s at least one thing that Taehyung won’t ever deny nor take away from you.

“I know,” your best friend replies. “I can see that.”

Turning to Yoongi, he asks the older man if he has anything to say.

“I’m happy, too.”

It’s not something Yoongi just says to anyone who isn’t you, so saying this now to assure your protective best friend means a lot.

“So can you not be judgy now?” You chuckle, easing the tension.

Taehyung insists that he wasn’t but teases that you and Yoongi were being so obvious.

You also insist that you were trying to be subtle, but you can’t really defend your giddy smile, which has much to do with the feel of Yoongi’s fingers intertwined with yours. It’s something you’re getting used to again, much like with everything - his gruff morning voice, the scent of his clothes that you wore all day, wrapping yourself around him, and his kisses. There’s more you’ve missed that you know you’ll have again and you can’t wait for those, too. You’ve got a month left here, after all, but if things would continue to go this way, maybe even more.

Dinner eventually goes by smoothly, with Taehyung no longer being hostile to you or Yoongi but actually being candid, saying that he missed third wheeling with you both, and then flustering him for fun.

Your best friend is a brat most of the time and he wants to put Yoongi on the spot. He asks Yoongi questions like his favorite body part of yours - your eyes even if he can’t look straight at them; his favorite date - the first time he took you to dinner with a bouquet of marigolds and you spent the night playing arcades; and his favorite mannerism of yours - any time you pout because it’s cute.

Taehyung insists it’s so Yoongi could be prepared for when you go public with your relationship and he gets asked about you. But deep down you know your best friend is doing it for you; there’s this comfort in knowing that those 2 years still stay with Yoongi, and his quick answers tell you that many things are still fresh in his mind.

“Favorite outfit?” Taehyung asks. “PG answers only.”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing is not PG,” Taehyung warns.

“I meant, nothing in general,” Yoongi clarifies. “I like everything because everything suits her. But if I’d have to choose, then anything yellow. It’s her favorite color and she looks happiest in it.”

“Hmm, okay. Moment when you knew you really liked her?” Taehyung continues.

“That day I brought her to the shop for the first time,” Yoongi recalls. “I never told her but my dad had been feeling down then; I knew he was missing my mom. But ___ went there with me and spoke to him while he was taking inventory and made him smile and laugh and I don’t know, seeing that just solidified what I felt.”

Taehyung’s face softens; he remembers you talking about that day and he sees you now, the memory hitting you hard as you try to contain your smile.

“And the moment you knew you loved her?”

“The first time we hung out at my place… the morning after,” Yoongi says, as he looks down on his lap and fumbles with his hands, something he does when he’s nervous. “She was walking around my studio with my shirt on and she just… looked like she belonged there, with me, in our own small world. It was just us and nothing else mattered.”

Neither you nor Taehyung says anything. You just gaze at Yoongi and the way he keeps himself distracted with his own fingers, and then you blink the tears away.

You take his hand in yours. “So, I think he’s ready for his hypothetical interview,” you chuckle.

Later that night, as you lie on your bed next to Yoongi who, just like you can’t seem to fall asleep, you say out loud the thoughts you’ve had since dinner.

“The moment you knew you loved me,” you start, “that… that morning was when we said we liked each other. You already loved me then?”

“The thought was there,” he answers, his eyes rooted on the ceiling. “But I kept going back to that moment even the mornings after.”

“Why?”

“You know how the first time you were on stage, that’s when you said you fell in love with acting?” He asks, earning him a hum of agreement from you. “It’s the same with me and the first time I played basketball. I fell in love with the sport that moment; I couldn’t see myself playing anything else and I knew that I wasn’t going to love any other sport after. I go back to that moment constantly, just like that first morning with you.”

Yoongi turns, his eyes holding yours. “That day was so simple. We stayed in, watched random videos, cooked whatever, but I could just… see us doing that for a long time, you know? I didn’t want to do that with anyone else, and somehow I just knew that I would never feel what I felt for another person again. I think about that day and what I felt and I think it was love.”

You kiss him and hum against his lips. “I think that was love, too. I think it still is.”

“Hello, stranger,” Hoseok’s playful tone greets you as you pick up the phone. “I feel a little hurt that your break included a break from me. Have I become that manager who doesn’t shut up about work and that’s why you don’t call?”

“Oh, stop it,” you chuckle. “But that’s also your job, though - to talk to me about work to remind me that I actually still have a job and I need to earn.”

“That’s true. You’ve got appearances and photo shoots waiting for you when you get back here in 3 weeks.”

Right. Three weeks, you think to yourself. Not long ago, you couldn’t wait for all this to be over so you could go back to Seoul, but with how things have been with Yoongi, you just want time to stop so you could spend more days with him the way you have.

It’s been a few days since you’ve gotten back together and you haven’t really spent a day apart since then. You still see your father and grandparents and have meals with them, but days begin and end with Yoongi - your mouths on each other, your hands all over his body, his lips all over yours. It’s been pleasurable for sure, but beyond the cuddles and the sex, it’s the conversations and the silence that have been so affirming. You like starting and ending your days with those, too.

“___, you still there?” Hoseok asks.

“Yeah, I’m just fixing up,” you say, looking for another one of your hair ties that you misplaced. You decide to just ask Yoongi for his because he definitely has an extra one. “Anyway, you called, so are you doing the friend thing by checking up on me? Or are you doing the manager thing and calling to tell me that I’ve got a project or something?”

“Both,” he laughs. “Well, there’s a request for you and Jin to be on a variety show and he said you’ve both dreamed of going on one so I assume that’s a yes. And there’s a pitch for skincare endorsement, too.”

“Okay to both,” you say excitedly, as you walk down the stairs. “I’m guessing filming for the show will start when I get back? And send me the details for the endorsement tonight, I’ll go check it,” you add.

You walk into your kitchen where Yoongi’s cooking, and you gasp in excitement as you see the kimchi fried rice he’s making. You hug him from the back, surprising him, but he doesn’t push you away.

“Smells good,” you hum, forgetting the call you’re currently in, only remembering when Hoseok asks what it is that you’re referring to.

“Uh, the food,” you reply.

“That you cooked or…?”

“Uh,” you trail, Yoongi looking at you curiously now, but you know you can’t lie to your manager, even if it's by omission. So you tell him the truth.

“That Yoongi cooked,” you admit.

“Excuse me, what?” Hoseok says, and you don’t miss the surprise in his voice. “Yoongi is with you? As in, in your house? Why? Are you back together?”

“Uh,” you stutter, choosing to take the conversation outside and then sitting on the couch that faces inside so you could see if Yoongi’s finished. “Yes, we are.”

“Since when?”

“The other day.”

There’s silence before Hoseok speaks again. “___, I told you to be careful.”

“I’ve been!” You insist. “I mean, we don’t go out much and there haven’t been any photos of us, at least that I’ve seen. You don’t have to worry; we’re being careful. And even then, he’s literally the most non-news worthy person I’ve ever dated. There’s no fire you’ll need to put out because there’s no dirt on him.”

“He’s your ex-boyfriend, that’s one. And as your manager, I’m still supposed to remind you that he might not want the attention,” Hoseok sighs.

“I’m not that big of a celebrity, Hoseok,” you reason. “I doubt people would mind.”

“They could.”

“Then he and I will talk about it when we have to.”

“But about what I said, I didn’t mean that as your manager. I meant that as your friend,” he says. “___, he broke your heart. Who’s to say he won’t do it again?”

“And who’s to say that he will?”

“So is he gonna quit his coaching job and move to Seoul?”

“We… we haven’t talked about it.”

“Do you plan to?”

“Yes, of course!” You groan. “We’ve just been enjoying the time together after so long. There’s so much to catch up on and we just… we just want to savor this for now before I have to go back there.”

“So you’re just gonna live in your own bubble for the next 3 weeks and then decide to talk about it when you feel like it. Is that it? And then what if he doesn’t go with you like last time? What if he lets you go again like last time?”

“You’re being harsh,” you mumble, not feeling like you need this right now.

“I’m not being harsh, ___. I’m being practical,” Hoseok sighs. “You knew you were gonna see him, and I knew, just like everyone else did, that you weren’t over him. And now you’re in that same position as you were 6 years ago, but this time, you’ve built a career; you’ve got a lot to lose to now. And whether he lets you go again or you choose to stay, you lose. You shouldn’t even be in this position.”

“You don’t get to speak about how I feel,” you respond, feeling a little too bare and vulnerable right now. “Neither should you speak about how I’m supposed to handle my personal relationships, Hoseok. Speak about it professionally and don’t act like you know what I had to go through and what I’m feeling right now.”

“You’re right, I don’t know what you had to go through,” he admits. “But I know that you cried so many nights because of him. I used to take out your trash, remember? Before you had Jimin? I never meant to see it but you threw a ripped photo of you and Yoongi before. You’d skip events at Daegu, date guys you didn’t even like… I— I’m your manager but I’m also your friend, ___. I pick up on your cues, how you avoid questions about your first love, how you say that there was never anything for you back home when I knew you used to head out there every weekend.”

The words feel like a punch to the gut. You know Hoseok; he’d never intend to say them to hurt you. He’d always kept himself out of your personal relationships, including the men you dated just because you were lonely even if he was right - you never really liked them.

But it feels too soon, you think. You don’t want to think of all this right now, of what it would mean for you and Yoongi after the 3 weeks you have left. You don’t know if he’s thought about it; knowing him, he probably has. But maybe you also don’t know; maybe he hasn’t thought about it because like you, maybe he just wants to live in this bubble first… before you lose it all over again.

“___, I’m sorry,” he finally says, after you’ve spent the past minute or so silent. “You’re an adult. The agency doesn’t restrict you or anything. I’m not here to police you either. I just… I don’t want you to get hurt again. And I don’t want anything to hold you back in your career, especially given the momentum you have.”

“I know,” you mumble. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s your break, a well-deserved one. I didn’t mean to ruin it.”

“You didn’t. It’s all good,” you say, and you mean it, too. He’s just reminded you of the things you’ve been trying not to think about.

You glance at Yoongi at the same time that he signals that the food is ready. You smile at him and tell Hoseok that you have to go. He apologizes again and tells you he’ll call back about work details.

Entering the house, the scent of the food immediately makes you salivate. You also spot another dish that you didn’t see earlier.

“Did you steam the dumplings?” You ask excitedly.

“Yeah,” Yoongi chuckles. “You got so many packs of it. I figured you’d want some.”

“Always,” you smile, sitting down next to him and placing your legs on his lap, as you usually do. You cling to him like a koala; you always said it’s how you squeeze in as much time to cuddle with him as possible. “I’m so glad we bought so many things at the supermarket the other day.”

“Because we got all the things you usually crave for,” he playfully shakes his head. “We have to buy milk soon, though. You put it in everything.”

“Get used to it again,” you stick your tongue out, earning you another laugh.

You eat as if you didn’t just have that conversation with your manager and you’re thankful that Yoongi doesn’t bring it up… until he eventually does, when you both sit on the couch later that evening, watching a Pegasus game on TV with your legs on his lap again.

“So… your friends don’t seem to like me, huh?”

His dry laugh tells you he’s trying not to be affected.

“My friends? Who?”

“Well, Taehyung seemed hostile the other day. And you looked pretty down while talking to your manager earlier. I’m thinking maybe he doesn’t like me. Do Jin and Jimin know yet? I bet they’d be disappointed, too. Does—-”

“Yah,” you groan, knowing he tends to ramble when he’s nervous. “Why are you thinking that way? They don’t not like you, okay?”

“I wouldn’t like me if I was your friend.”

“Too bad you’re my boyfriend, then. You can’t dislike yourself.”

“I still could,” he says, unable to hide his smile at how you referred to him as.

“Well then, I don’t. And that’s what matters,” you declare, climbing to sit on his lap now.

“You really like straddling, don’t you,” he chuckles.

“Only so you could look at me,” you state, “and so I could hug you and you could hug me like this.” You wrap his arms around your waist to his amusement. “And so I can properly tell you that my friends are fine; they’re not out to get you. They’re just… protective, that’s all.”

His eyes soften and you relax your position in his hold.

“I cried to Jin once and told him I didn’t wanna speak of it ever again. Hoseok saw our ripped photo in my trash. Jimin’s never met you but I apparently say a lot of things when I’m drunk. And Tae, well, he took it the hardest. But he also saw me at my happiest with you,” you reveal. “It was hard, but only because it meant so much. I won’t deny any of that. But we’re okay now. We made decisions that hurt each other but we also can’t seem to just let each other go. That’s gotta mean something, right?”

“It does,” Yoongi nods, thinking that this would do for now.

There are so many thoughts swimming in his head and hiding underneath. They continue to plague his mind even after he goes to bed that evening, with your body wrapped all over his after he made you come thrice. They stay there even after a shallow slumber, as he wakes the next morning feeling restless.

He never imagined he’d ever get back together with you. Sure, he’d thought about it many times before; even planned on seeing you one time to catch up and maybe see if things had changed but he’d chickened out seeing that they did, drove back to Daegu, and then convinced himself that it was the right thing to do.

But you were everywhere for him - in his rare smiles and laughters, in the crevices of his broken heart that he caused, in his dreams where you would probably remain. Being with you again gives him a sense of direction after he lost it all those years ago when his dream slipped away.

That version of him didn’t think he could love you right, and though he’s grown so much since then, he feels that the remnants of that boy are still there, and he’s scared that he’ll drive you away again, ironically because you - your dreams, your hard work, your happiness - always come first.

Yoongi always preferred being alone; he didn’t like fitting himself where he doesn’t have a place to be, or if he thinks his presence would cause more harm than good. Dating a celebrity is tricky, and he’s allowed himself to live in this fantasy world within the 4 walls of your rental house where nothing could harm the both of you, including him.

Turning to his side, he gazes at your sleeping form. You’ve shifted since last night, and now you’re comfortably lying on your side facing him, soft snores escaping you.

He doesn’t fight the desire to feel you, so he cups your cheek with his hand and caresses it, just like you said you always liked. It’s his gentleness, you said, and he never really understood it but he does it because you like it, just like he does many things when it comes to you.

You hum as you feel his warmth, a small smile creeping in your face, causing him to smile as well.

“G’morning,” you hum, turning your head so you could kiss his hand. “You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t really sleep,” he says, his hand trailing down slowly. “I think I’ve been sleeping too much.”

You giggle with your eyes still closed. “We can go somewhere if you want,” you say, taking in a breath when his fingers graze your pert nipple. “Or just stay in.”

Your chest heaves and Yoongi takes it as a sign, so he cups your breast, his thumb tracing patterns on your bud. You moan in response, and the sound itself causes his own dick to harden, even more when he feels your thighs clench underneath the covers.

“Baby,” you pant.

He knows the tone of that voice; he heard it last night when your goodnight kiss turned into a make out session and then he slid down to make out with your cunt, too.

So he takes the bait and slides his hand there again, parting your legs open to gain entrance. You comply right away, moaning even louder this time once his fingers breach your lips and proceed to gently rub your clit that’s already throbbing in anticipation. Comfortably propped up with his arm, he gazes at your closed eyes and parted mouth, his own pleasure increasing from watching yours build up.

Your body glides against his hand’s movement, your back arching now as you start to crave for more. “Baby, please,” you mumble.

“What do you want?”

“You,” you moan.

He smirks and gets on his knees. He retrieves his hand from between your thighs and uses your essence to lubricate his own aching cock, earning him a cuss from you. Lifting your leg over his shoulder, he enters you slowly, until he’s following a pace that has you keening, especially as he kisses your ankle then down your calf, softly and gently even as he starts to go harder.

Watching him from below is hypnotizing, with his taut and smooth chest glowing against the sun. It’s the way his long hair frames his face, how his free hands comb over it, how he bites his lips, and how his head is thrown back, exposing his pretty neck.

You watch his slender fingers caress your leg. You watch his digits, still coated with your essence, play with your clit again. You imagined how inviting they might’ve looked earlier as he pleasured you, and you get to see them now. Those rough, hard working hands touch you so gently, hold you so fiercely, and they satisfy you to no end.

Your back arches as you feel the tightness become too much. You come and he follows right after, with moans coming from him and curses coming from you. The way he sounds, despite the absence of his words, makes you feel like you could come all over again.

He kisses your leg another time before putting it down, a shy yet satisfied smile gracing his face.

“Can you kiss me now?” You ask.

He hovers over you and gives you a peck on the lips.

“More,” you demand, kissing him all over his face.

“Jagi, let me brush my teeth first.”

“I don’t care,” you pout.

“I do,” he chuckles, tickling you so he could escape from your hold.

He puts on his boxers and then scurries to the bathroom where you follow him. You brush your teeth next to each other and once you both finish, you immediately wrap your arms around his neck and pull him for a kiss, one that eventually turns into a make out session like it often does.

“Jagi,” he laughs, as you now move to his neck as you pepper him with kisses. “You have your niece’s party. You have to fix up.”

“Right,” you say, finally letting him go. “Are you telling your dad about us today?”

“Yeah. I’m spending the day with him and he’ll definitely ask questions.”

“What do you think he’ll say?”

“He’ll probably tell me not to screw it up again,” Yoongi laughs dryly.

“Did he say something like that before?” You wonder.

“Just years later. He said when I broke it off, I was in a pretty bad place; he didn’t want to add to that and he just supported me with what I needed to get better,” Yoongi recalls. “We’ve gotten closer the past years and he’d bring you up usually when you have a show or movie going on. But he’s never direct about the breakup. I guess it hit too close for him; I did what he couldn’t do.”

“Well if anything, I’m sure telling him would be a less awkward conversation than when I tell my father,” you say, having decided that if you want to repair the relationship, being honest to your old man about your boyfriend is a good first step. “I’ll just maybe hold off on introductions so letting him know should be enough.”

“Good luck to us, I guess?” Yoongi offers.

“I guess so,” you reply, hugging him for the encouragement and comfort you need. “I already can’t wait to be with you tonight.”

As it turns out, Mr. Min was more silent than expected. Yoongi told you that his old man was more emotional, hugging him and saying he’s glad his son’s happy again, that he found the piece that was missing. Yoongi didn’t get that last bit, but you do; you remember that first conversation with his dad when you first visited the shop some weeks ago.

Your father was the talkative one. He asked about how you and Yoongi met, what happened along the way - which you narrated in a rather simplistic manner, given that you knew it’d hit too close to him, too; you did what your mom did, after all - and when he’ll get to meet him.

“Sometime,” you’d said and your father merely smiled and didn’t press further.

That was a few days ago. Since then, you’d gone to the Opera House with Yoongi, played basketball in his favorite playground court, and planned to hike a mountain, until you saw how far you’d have to walk so you both decided to stay at the foot of it and just go for a food trip around the small town.

While Yoongi’s working at the shop today, you’re at Taehyung’s house, seated on his couch while he lays his head on your lap. You’re both watching a classic movie and reciting the lines word for word, getting sucked into the emotions of the scene.

Your best friend sits up right after the credits start to roll. “So, how’s it like dating your ex-boyfriend?” He asks.

“Good,” you smile, recalling how it’s been since you both got back together.. “All the things that I loved about him are still there. He’s still wise and gentle and thoughtful. But he’s so grown up now, like when he talks about coaching the team and improving the sports department of the school. He sounds so mature when he talks about his dad’s business and how he’s helping in growing it, perhaps running the shop in the future when Mr. Min is unable to. But he still teases sometimes, he’s still a little cocky flirt and an unbothered man when he wants to be.”

“You seem really happy,” Taehyung looks at you softly. “It’s different, the way you look. You’ve never talked about anyone like this.”

“I don’t know where I got this capacity to feel for someone so much,” you admit. “It’s… it’s overwhelming sometimes, you know? Like when I watch him preparing our meals or when he’s on his laptop for work or when he’s just seated next to me. I just feel so happy that I’m part of his world, that I get to experience this - being with him. It’s kind of scary sometimes.”

“In what way?” Taehyung asks worriedly.

“In the way that I know that the universe screws with us sometimes and takes things away,” you say. “In the way that I find myself imagining - for the first time - what living here would be like and what job I’ll have and where he and I will live. It’s scary because of the way we got together was so familiar, and what if the heartbreak is the same, too?”

“Do you think about that? Of him, pushing you away again?”

“I can’t help it,” you sigh. “It’s moments when I’m not with him that I end up thinking this way. It’s like I’m overwhelmed with joy when I’m with him but I get so anxious when I’m not. Because what if one day, our circumstances pull us apart again? Then what? What if even with how happy I make him, he wants to stay here? And even with how happy he makes me, what if I still want to leave?”

“___, your life is in Seoul,” Taehyung reminds you.

“My career is there; there’s a difference.”

“Is there really? In the industry where we work?” He challenges. “You can’t be all that you want to be and stay here. I thought you always knew that.”

“I did. I guess, finding my happiness again just gave me ideas,” you say. “Staying here to be with him back then wasn’t an option - I had a career to start and well, he also didn’t want me. But now, I’ve got a few years under my belt. I could do something with it here, you know? Maybe run workshops? Set up my own theater company? Get into broadcasting?”

“Why are they all premised on you staying here, though? What about Yoongi being the one to leave to stay with you? Why do you get to be the one to give up your dream?”

“Because it’s easier to make it here than it is in Seoul. And well, I guess it’s a better scenario to think about rather than him not wanting to leave his life here to live it with me there.”

You don’t even notice the tears forming until one slides down your cheek, which you eventually wipe away. It’s the thought you’ve been keeping in, unwilling to acknowledge it for fear of it coming true. You’re scared that with all the things about Yoongi that haven’t changed, his choice to prioritize your dream over your relationship is one of them, so you go ahead and think of giving it up for him instead.

“Hey,” Taehyung says, hugging you for comfort. “Have you told him any of this?”

“No. I don’t like talking about those things when we’re together. I just want us to—”

“Stay in your own bubble of love before it breaks?”

You sigh in frustration. “I sound really stupid, don’t I?”

“You sound like any person who’s been hurt by someone they loved so much, and those fears are valid,” Taehyung assures you. “But even if I want to say that you should follow your heart and be with the man you love regardless of what you have to give up, I can’t. Because I saw how hard you worked to be where you are. I know what this means to you. You love acting more than anything and you always have.”

“But I also know that Yoongi loves basketball, and he’d do anything close to what he couldn’t have,” you point out. “Coaching his college team fills that hole that his old broken dream left.”

“Then where does that leave both of you?” Taehyung asks. “Who gives up what? The last time this happened, you gave each other up. Was it worth it? Would it be worth it this time?”

“I don’t wanna think about it,” you pout. “I don’t want either of us giving the other up.”

“Well then you’ve got to find a way to live out your dreams while still being together,” Taehyung advises. “And something that’s sustainable, something that doesn’t tire you both out, that doesn’t break you into pieces when being together is meant to keep you whole.”

“I know. I’m just taking it one day at a time,” you huff, exhausted from just thinking about all this and silently crying. “I’m working out schedules in my mind, figuring out arrangements, what I can do here, what he can do there… but they’re all still scary because they’re unknown. Choosing to just be happy with how we are now seems easy.”

“It is. But what happens when it gets hard?”

“I guess he and I just have to… figure out how not to hurt each other unlike the last time,” you sigh, knowing that saying it is much easier than doing it.

Yoongi never promised he wouldn’t hurt you; he isn’t the type to make those, knowing that his actions always say more than his words ever could. But you knew he wouldn’t, that he’d never intend it. Yet losing him was the most painful thing you had to endure.

“You know it’s not that simple, though,” Taehyung says, pulling you close to him for the hug he knows you need.

“I know that, too,” you reply, leaning on his shoulder now. “You’d think that after what I went through, I’d be so scared to be with him again because I lost him once and I don’t know how I’d deal with losing him again but I’m so stubborn, I can’t help myself.”

“You find home in a man in the place that stopped feeling that way and then you don’t want to leave,” Taehyung hums. “That’s natural. That’s human. But you don’t belong here, ___. You belong out there. You belong where you’re wanted.”

The bell over the door of the shop rings, and in you come in a yellow linen ensemble that Yoongi especially likes. His smile is immediate and it grows wider when you walk behind the counter where he is and kiss him.

“Missed you this morning,” you pout, taking his hand even if he still isn’t a hand-holder, but he lets you do it because it’s something you like to do.

“Yeah, me, too. I just needed to get here early to help my dad with some orders,” Yoongi says. “A couple wanted cutting boards for their entourage and it’s too much for him to work on his own. It tired him out actually. He left at lunchtime to rest.”

“Is he okay? You said he’s been getting more tired than usual.”

“I think it’s running this place that exhausts him,” he sighs. “I’ve been telling him to involve my cousins since he wants to keep the business within the family but he’s so stubborn; he doesn’t think they’ll appreciate it as much because they didn’t grow up in the shop. And then when I help, he says I help too much.”

“Maybe you’re too blunt when you tell him,” you chuckle.

“How else am I supposed to tell him?” Yoongi arches his brow. “We don’t sugarcoat things around here.”

“Well then maybe your words need a little more love and care,” you smile. “Convince him that way; maybe he’ll give in.”

“Fine. When I figure out how to do that, then I will,” he laughs. “Anyway, why are you here? I thought you were doing errands.”

“I was. But then Hoseok asked to call and then we ended up talking for 2 hours and I needed a break,” you answer. “My dry clean can wait.”

“Was it bad?”

“No, not at all,” you smile. “The call was just too long but I also wanted to see you right away. I’m staying here for another week.”

“Really? How’d that happen?” He asks, feeling all sorts of warmth, knowing he’d be with you for a few more days.

“Jin asked to move our filming so I asked to move my photo shoot,” you smile proudly. “And I arranged my schedule with Hoseok already. I’ve got days in the week I could drive out here and stay with you. Some weeks will be busier than others, though.”

Yoongi’s heart sinks. Of course this is something you’ve thought about. You went ahead and thought he wouldn’t be driving out to see you, too.

“I can drive out to you, you know? You’re the one with the busy schedule,” he says.

“So are you. Baby, you’re training college kids. And you’re helping your dad out here. I already know you won’t be taking a rest.”

“And you’re the celebrity with so many events and filming and photoshoots to go to,” he counters. “You won’t be taking a rest.”

“Well then how do you expect us to see each other if we don't plan to?”

His silence prompts you to continue. “You haven’t thought about it yet, have you?”

“Of course I have. Even if all I want is to savor our time together, the thought of us being apart again bugs me everyday. It… it got hard the first time. It took a lot from us.”

“Because we were different people back then,” you explain. “I was just starting out with barely any projects and you were recovering. But now, we’re more capable, more confident. I can’t be the only one thinking this is gonna work out this time. Please tell me I’m wrong.”

The worry in your face starts to worry Yoongi, too. But he wants to be the strong one this time, even if everything scares him right now.

“You are wrong, because we’re gonna be fine,” he assures you, hand on your cheek to calm you down. “We’ll make time and we’ll find something that’s more permanent, okay? We have just a bit more time left. Do you think we can just focus on that first?”

It’s both comforting and worrying to know that somehow, you and Yoongi are on the same page for now, choosing to just focus on your time left together rather than dwelling on what comes after. Sure, thinking how you could sustain the relationship is important, but so is just living in this moment with him without worrying about anything else.

That’s how the second year of your relationship went, after all. Even with the arrangement you both made of alternating visits after that first summer, you didn’t account for the tragedy he’d suffer through after the next. That’s what made it hard. Some things in life you just can’t predict, some dreams that come true and end that change everything; sometimes it’s what makes the relationship work, sometimes it’s what ends it.

“We can,” you smile, shifting to kiss his hand that’s still cupping your cheek. “I’ve got a few ideas.”

For the next several days, you and Yoongi spend as much time together as possible. You stay in and watch movies - including yours, have meals out with his dad, go out for drinks with Taehyung, and drive out to places you’ve never been to.

You join him at the shop when he does some woodwork, something you don’t expect would turn you on so much with how sexy he looks being so focused, his fingers hypnotizing you as they glide through the wood. He stays with you during your video call meetings with Hoseok about several possible projects, noting the ones you really want and the ones that just won’t work out.

It’s waking up and falling asleep next to him that you love the most, though, and he seems to feel the same way. He pulls you close at night and kisses your forehead; you’re the one who dives into his lips until it escalates to him eating you out or pounding you from behind. But he always finishes with his head on your neck, taking you in, saying he loves you with barely any words. In the mornings, you wake him up with kisses, his pleas for you to stop having no bite at all. The softness of his smiles tells you he secretly loves it, and it’s what stays with you as you go about the rest of your day.

Before you know it, it’s 2 days before you’re scheduled to drive back. You indulge your father’s request for lunch the day before you leave, and Mr. Min prepares dinner for you that evening. You don’t miss the joy in his eyes as he tells you repeatedly how happy he is that his son is happier now as well.

That night, you and Yoongi make love gently. With him taking you on the couch and then on your bed, you feel everything he doesn’t say. He holds your gaze as you come for him, and then he kisses you amorously when you ride out your high.

On your last day, you meet with Taehyung and his parents for breakfast before spending the rest of the day with Yoongi. You stay at home, just lounging about in nothing but his oversized shirt and your underwear.

“Okay,” you say, as the sun has set and you start to get hungry. “I found this super easy recipe for some garlic pasta that I’m gonna make for us, and then I’m gonna grill some steak that you’re gonna watch over because I don’t know how to tell if it’s cooked.”

Yoongi laughs but he agrees. “Sounds like a plan.”

You walk around the kitchen to get the ingredients and prepare the pot for the noodles and pans for everything else. You get the cutting board and start chopping the garlic as slow as you possibly can.

Leaning on the counter and watching you in amusement, Yoongi chuckles. “Jagi, let me do it. You might hurt yourself. Or overcook the pasta because you’re taking too long. Whichever happens first.”

“Hey, be nice,” you glare at him.

He just softly smiles as you go about your task, with your eyebrows furrowed as you focus on mincing the garlic. You ask him to season the steak and he teases you that all you’ll be doing now is putting the meat on the pan and claiming that you cooked it.

“Ha, ha, you’re funny,” you pout. “I’m trying, okay? This is why Tae and I had to survive on instant meals because we couldn’t cook our own.”

“Yeah, now both of you could just hire people to cook for you.”

“Or date people who can,” you wink. “I missed your makchang and your meat dishes a lot. No one in Seoul could make them like you.”

“I also only make them for you.”

“What a sweetheart,” you giggle.

You finally finish with the garlic and then cook it in the melted butter on the pan. Once ready, you mix in the noodles with some parmesan cheese and parsley.

At that moment, Yoongi couldn't help himself. He walks over to you and hugs you from behind, his strong arms wrapping around your waist and his face resting on your neck as he watches you continue mixing. He feels your breath hitch at the act; this is something you usually do, after all, and he’s more subtle when he initiates physical contact. He’s never actually done this before, but it just felt right. Seeing you in his clothes, in this place that’s become so familiar, does something to him, especially as you try your best to feed him this time around.

“Hmm, couldn’t help yourself with my cuteness, huh?” You giggle, and he hums his yes.

“You think I could do this everyday?”

“Only if the recipe isn’t more than 5 steps.”

“Hey!” You elbow him, laughing along as he says he’s just teasing.

You let him taste and then add more salt when he says so. You put it aside so you can cook the steak now, and all you really do is put it on the pan and do what Yoongi tells you to do.

“Can you imagine it?” You wonder out loud as you sear the meat. “You and me in our own place, doing this?”

“It’s a nice thought,” he downplays. He thinks about it more than he cares to admit.

“It is. That’s why, uh, I’ve been looking around for houses around here for long-term lease,” you finally tell him. “This place is available. It would be a good place to stay for when I visit every week.”

“Is that all you think about?”

“Hmm, I think of what I can do here, too,” you confess, finally expressing the things that have been swirling in your mind.

“Why?”

“I mean, Seoul would be great but if I can’t have you there, Daegu isn’t so bad,” you say, your voice dropping a little. “I could teach drama at your university or run my own classes.”

“But this isn’t your home, though,” he says, his eyes now losing its softness and are now focused on the meat he’s cooking.

“What’s home but the place where you are?” You counter. “I’ll be wherever you are. I… I know that’s what I want.”

“Jagi, that’s a loaded thing to say. This place is too small for you, always has been.”

You don’t respond, only because you agree. It was too small for your mom and it was for you, too. But sometimes, dreams and priorities change. Sometimes, people find something they lost a long time ago and don’t want to lose it again. Sometimes they find themselves in a place they never expected, and find a home they thought was only warm enough for one.

“It’s just a thought,” you hum. “It would be nice though, wouldn’t it? To… do this everyday?”

Yoongi doesn’t think it’s a test, but when he manages to say that it is - it’s become one of his gentle dreams, actually, something he feels a little too greedy to have - there's a tinge of uncertainty on your face that mirrors his, and he wishes on your last night, he doesn’t disappoint you.

But you seem to shrug it off and he tries to do the same. He finishes off the meat and then slices them for you. You plate the noodles and take them to the dining table. Both of you devour your dinner, with your legs over his lap and frequent kisses on his hand while he eats, and enjoy some wine right after.

Later that night after you’ve both washed up, you exit the bathroom and proceed to look through his pile of clothes in your closet.

“Jagi, no need for that,” he mumbles, prompting you to return one of his white shirts that you were about to wear.

You turn to him in anticipation, as he removes his own shirt and walks over to you in just his boxers. Cupping your cheeks, he kisses you deeply.

“It’s our last night together,” he whispers. “I just want to—”

Your hand on his cock disrupts him, and while he doesn’t say anything more, he does continue to kiss you and fondle your breasts.

He makes you come into his mouth first, and then lets you suck him off until he’s painfully hard that he shoves himself into you once he lays you on your back. You moan obscenely, as he chooses to go hard this time.

He doesn’t want you to think of whatever uncertainty you may have picked up from him earlier; he doesn’t want you to think of tomorrow or the day after that. Tonight, he just wants you to focus on how he makes you feel; he wants to let you know how good you make him feel. He wants to rid your mind of worries for now about your future together. He just wants your sounds, your curses of his name, your chest heaving, your toes curling, and your screams of wanting more.

And that’s what he gets. You groan when he thrusts deeply into you as you grip the sheets and the pillow you’re lying on. Your whole body shakes when you’re all-fours on the bed, feeling him enter you from behind, shivering with his kisses on your back as he pushes into you.

You’re spent by the time you both finish, and Yoongi takes his time to wipe off the sweat from your forehead and your mixed slick from your body. You curl into him once he returns to the bed, and all he could do is hold you tight and hope that in the morning, this is all that you’ll remember.

You gaze at the man sleeping next to you, peaceful, with no care in the world. For someone who says he isn’t all that affectionate, he sure likes to hold you when you sleep at night, as his one arm secures you in his grip. You delay the morning kisses, wanting to savor this first. It won’t be until a few days later when you get to be blessed with this scene again, and you want to hang onto it for as long as you can.

Eventually, you give in, peppering him with kisses until he just pulls you on top of him and cradles your head to stop you. You both end up giggling though, and Yoongi, who usually doesn’t like morning breath kisses, kisses you. He holds it there for a while and you hum against his lips, not wanting to think that you’ll be without this for a while.

You both finally get up. It’s a quiet morning with the breakfast he makes. You eat your meal right next to him with your legs on his lap like always. You choose to exchange soft looks and giggles rather than words. You take a quiet shower with him. He helps you fix your things, and when Taehyung arrives, Yoongi loads your luggage.

He greets your best friend and when you’re both left alone outside the car, you give Yoongi a tight hug.

“I’ll drive out to you next week,” he says as he wipes the lone tear that falls down your cheek. “Is that okay? It’s my last weekend before training starts.”

“Yes,” you sniff. “That would be great.”

He gives you a final kiss before entering his car. In the intersection, Yoongi takes a right while you and Taehyung go straight. He thinks there’s no more painful way to part and to remind him of your reality - no matter how much love there is, you’ll always be heading in different directions.

Yoongi visits you that first weekend. He spends 3 days with you, one of which is spent with Jungkook and Namjoon who almost cry seeing both of you back together. There are a lot of secrets spilled, like how both men sought you out because they’d also been heartbroken by the breakup; they wanted to know how you were doing and wanted to let you know how Yoongi was doing as well, in hopes that you’ll both never lose contact, that despite the separation, you’d still feel connected somehow.

That second night, Yoongi massages your feet as you talk about the busy week - meeting with Jin and the variety show producers, guesting at a talk show, and giving an interview. In the balcony of your 20th floor apartment overlooking the Han River, Yoongi sees the world through your eyes - at the top, where you’re meant to be.

The next week, you take the 3-hour drive to Daegu to see Yoongi for 2 days, since your schedule suddenly became full with guest appearances in various shows and meetings for other potential endorsements. You meet him at the antique shop that he helps manage while working on coaching stuff on his laptop, scribbling plays and watching his players’ scrimmages on film so he can work on their system. You don’t do much but lounge at his apartment during his free day, the silence now replaced with numerous phone calls and emails that you can’t reject.

You get a driver for the trip on the third week. Thursday and Friday are the only free days you have, which is a luxury, you think, since Yoongi works every single day, coaching the team and helping his dad. You’re at least afforded some days when you don’t have filming or something extra on the side, so you take the chance to go to Yoongi.

It’s 5AM when you tell him you’re coming, and he’s up early for morning training to say he’ll see you for lunch. You’re on his couch by the time he arrives with meat to grill, and you run to him immediately for the hug you’ve been badly needing.

“Everything okay?” He hums against your neck, taking in your scent.

“Yeah, just miss you,” you sigh into his hold. “I miss you everyday and much more than I thought I would. Like, I’m busy when I’m not with you and that should make me think of you less but no, it just makes me think of wanting to go home to you.”

“I’m sorry, jagi,” he says, kissing your forehead to add to the apology.

“Nonsense. I’m just a clingy girlfriend, you know that,” you chuckle, playing off the sadness you truly feel at being away from him like this. The daily texts and calls could only do so much.

Yoongi, though, falters a bit at your admission. You love in all ways - through words, gifts - you’ve been bringing him something that reminds you of him every time - actions, and affection. He loves with this - cooking you meals, hugging you tightly, holding your hand, looking into your eyes when you talk. He loves by making you feel like you’re home; he feels like he does it best when you’re next to each other. And that he could only truly return your love when he’s with you.

He kisses you in response - slow and deep with his hands cupping your face again.

It alights something in you, as you feel so much with it, especially as he seems to want to keep going. But your body reacts immediately - it’s how it is when Yoongi’s expert tongue works around yours, his soft hums against your mouth and the way he caresses your cheeks making you lost in your own little world. It makes you crave for more, too.

Your hands trail down his chest, sneaking underneath his shirt to feel his skin and then pulling it off him for the whole thing. He hisses when you slide further down, your fingers grazing his semi-hard cock.

“Hmm, I think I’m gonna have my meal first,” you tease, going on your knees to remove his joggers.

You smile and lick your lips as your hand strokes his length, long and thick in all the ways you want. The view from below is glorious, his long hair framing his face, closed eyes and parted mouth letting you know of his anticipation. You don’t miss the sight of his heaving chest once you take him in your mouth, and his tempered groans cause shivers in your body once you increase your pace.

“Jagi,” he moans, the term affecting you differently when he says it in desperation, in a tone that screams of pleasure instead of endearment.

It just prompts you to go faster, to take him in deeper, and once you notice him tighten his grip on the counter and feel his restrained thrusts against your mouth, you know he’s close.

You pull away briefly, your hand taking control. “It’s okay, baby. I can take it.”

He follows your lead and grinds against you now, his hips so beautiful in motion as he chases his high. He comes abruptly, taking you both by surprise, but you don’t pull away. You milk his every last drop, his whispered curses turning you on even more.

You stand up and cheekily smile, and he can’t help himself but pull you to him. He hides his face in your neck, too shy to show just how good you made him feel. But he knows there’s another way to do that, so his hand that’s wrapped around your waist travels down and sneaks underneath your dress and inside your lace panties.

“Hmm,” he pants, finding out just what sucking him off did to you.

He meets you in a frenzied kiss before turning you around, his fingers doing what they do best to your cunt while his mouth attacks your neck. His free hand fondles your breast, and it’s pleasure all over your body that you moan out every possible curse you could.

“Baby, it’s too good,” you heave, much louder than he is, as you normally are. “Fuck, I missed this. I want this everyday. I want you so fucking much everyday. Agh—”

Yoongi disregards your desire, one you’ve expressed multiple times in the last few weeks of this arrangement. He wants nothing more than to have this, too, but he’s learned a long time ago that wanting something so much doesn’t guarantee he’ll have it. Sometimes it’s worse; it’s hard to get back on your feet when you fail.

But he focuses on your pleasure, on the way that your body is responding to his movements, on the way that you’re pulling his hair and grinding against his fingers that’s sliding so perfectly in and out of you. He focuses on the way your sounds let him know that you’re feeling what he wants you to feel.

You reach your peak. Yoongi knows it when you lean your head against his chest and clench your thighs. Your hand goes over to his that’s on your breast, and he knows it’s too much now, so his fingers slow down, ultimately stopping.

“Guess it’s just right that I have this, too,” he says, sucking his fingers that have your slick all over.

You chuckle as you catch your breath, turning to him in time to watch him take his fingers in his mouth. His hand is perfect already; knowing it’s laced with your essence makes it even more irresistible.

“I definitely want more but I’m also really hungry,” you pout, facing him now. “I didn’t get to have breakfast since I was asleep the whole ride here.”

“Did you barely get any sleep again?” He asks, knowing that tiring days make it harder for you.

“Just a little. Dinner with some friends ended late and then I had this early morning fitting for this gala next week,” you explain. “I said I’m only free before 9 so the stylist dropped by my place at 7.”

“Well, then you can spend the rest of the day just resting, okay?” He says, given that he has a meeting with the coaching staff before the team’s afternoon training.

“I’ll be on your bed waiting for you to come home,” you wink. “Maybe I’ll be naked, too.”

Yoongi laughs and kisses you again, something you’ve noticed him do a lot more since getting back together. He used to wait for you to initiate anything when you first dated, only taking control once you’ve set the pace. Now, he doesn’t seem to mind - he kisses you more, hugs you more, pulls you in more. You like to think this is him missing you just as much; you don’t want to think it means anything else.

You do as he says, making yourself comfortable on his bed with his scent enveloping you until he’s back home at 8, admitting that he dismissed everyone half an hour earlier so he could grab some dinner and get to you right away.

It’s sex in the kitchen right after dinner, and gentler lovemaking when you’re both tucked in bed later that night.

You have to leave right after lunchtime tomorrow, giving both of you just a bit of time for a meal after he finishes with morning training. It feels so fast and there’s never enough time. He’ll have to settle with texts and video calls again, which he was never good at. He’s always hated typing and talking on the screen but he always did it for you; there’s no other way, after all. And then he’ll have to wait for the next free time either of you gets to see each other once more.

“I’ll miss you again,” you whisper, interrupting his thoughts.

He thought you were already asleep.

“Me, too, jagi.”

“At least it’s just 3 hours, though,” you comfort yourself. “And no time difference. I don’t know how I’ll survive if we had an actual long-distance relationship that doesn’t let us see each other once a week.”

“That would be tough for me, too. I… I’m not good with calls and stuff like that,” he admits.

“Oh, I know,” you giggle. “You get anxious. And when you have nothing to say, you don’t get to hold my hand or play with my hair like you always do.”

“You know that, huh?”

“Min Yoongi, you’re fiddly with your fingers; you want to always be doing something with them, whether it’s stuffing them inside me or something more wholesome than that,” you laugh. “And I like it. Even when you don’t say much, you do other things that tell me just how much you love me.”

“You know me well, don’t you?”

“I’d like to think so. When I think about you as much as I do, that kinda happens.”

Yoongi just smiles and tells you to go to sleep. You follow and curl into him closer, your warmth comforting every part of his soul.

He wishes he could love you more, not in a way that’s different to how he does it but in a way that lets you feel it every single day and every minute of it, and in a way that doesn’t tire either of you out, that doesn’t restrict and that doesn’t limit, that doesn’t end and that doesn’t hold back. Everyday he yearns for you, but so far he doesn’t know of any other way to do all that without either of you giving up something important.

You have your fast-paced career that you were always meant to have; he has one that he’s fallen in love with. Your home is 3 hours away, and his is right here, where he gets to be with his dad whose only life now is the shop and nothing else.

He’d seen the things people give up for the ones they love; he’s learned that giving up people you love for a dream happens, too. It’s his parents’ story and yours, after all. It’s both of yours, too. And even if he knows that your story will go in either direction, he chooses to live in the one you have now - in tangled limbs and hushed I love you’s under the covers, in cooked meals and lazy days in the comforts of your chosen homes, in untold desires of a different end to your story this time around.

Yoongi surprises you the next week when he calls you on Friday night as you’re heading home from your event. He drove after afternoon training. Geumjae will be home for the weekend and help his dad in the shop, so there’s time to see you for a few days.

You’re ecstatic when he shows up at your door, peppering him with kisses like every greeting after a week of being apart.

You have an interview the next day that Jimin sneaks him in to watch. It’s the first time he’s ever done so, and watching you charm the hosts in your marigold dress hurts and heals his heart at the same time.

You talk about your favorite roles and what acting means to you; you talk about the hard work you put into every character you play, doing your own research and taking classes to improve yourself. You talk about the love of the fans, how people reach out through letters and social media to tell you how you’ve been a source of joy for them. You live for this and Yoongi wishes he can witness it all the time, that he can see the fulfillment on your face when the hosts and crew compliment you even when the camera's not rolling.

He wishes that you don’t feel too bad when you have to cancel dinner with him because of another dinner that Hoseok tells you about. It’s on short notice, as this casting director that he sent one of your auditions to some time ago is in town. The man thought to meet up with some friends and acquaintances from South Korea, and Hoseok insists that you join him.

You do, and Yoongi is not one bit disappointed. “Who knows? You might meet someone who’d give you your big break. Don’t worry about me,” he insists.

It’s 1AM when you return to your apartment, over an hour later than you promised.

“There were more people than expected,” you explain, “so it was actually like a party with all these important people. Hoseok says that directors usually scout in these types of events, so I went for it. I’m sorry I couldn’t be here with you. You’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Nonsense,” he says this time, pulling you into a hug as you lay on the sofa with him, which is where he chose to wait for you. “I’m sure you charmed the guests there. I wouldn’t have kept you to myself, even if I was leaving tonight. There’s no way I’d let you pass up an opportunity like that.”

“You’re too understanding,” you pout. “We’ll stay in tomorrow, and then I’ll go to you next week. I don’t wanna miss your first game of the season.”

“And I can’t wait to see you on the stands, cheering for me,” he smiles.

You’re crying on the phone a few days later, apologetic to Yoongi because you can’t make it to Daegu for the season’s opening game. He’s been excited for his team, saying that they’re one of the favorites to win the tournament, and to be the first champion player and coach of his school would be the biggest honor, a dream he didn’t think he’d have. You hate that you have to miss it.

“One of the men I was talking with during the dinner last week turned out to be a casting director,” you explain. “He’s been in search of an actress for this TV series with a foreign production company and he reached out to Hoseok and wants me to audition. I—”

“And why are you apologizing?” Yoongi asks. “This is an audition that could change everything for you.

“But I promised I’d watch your game.”

“And you will, one day. You have to rehearse for this, ___. This is too important.”

“But—”

“You know that I won’t let you give something up for me, right?” He interjects. “That includes the time you need to prepare. Don’t be upset. I’ll tell you what happens, just promise me you’ll practice well. And I’ll see you when I can, okay?”

“Okay,” you mumble on the other end.

You want to see him badly, but you also haven’t stopped thinking about this audition. Hoseok doesn’t know all the details but there have been talks of a TV series that will do filming abroad; that means it’s a big budget show and something that the industry will surely hype up. You apparently caught the director’s attention with your carefree yet innocent energy, like there’s this joy and romanticism in you that the character embodies. You remember his question of you ever doing ballet before, and you said you took lessons from your mom who’s a ballerina, and the possibility of that being part of the role excites you. You don’t even know what it entails but you already know you really want it.

You enter the studio the next week, ready for what could be the biggest audition of your life. The fact that the casting director wanted you to audition before seeing any tape that Hoseok would have sent him makes you want to believe that you have a shot. The 2 scenes you’re given have varying emotions that you need to express, and Jin was your mentor throughout the week as you prepared for this moment.

You’re buzzing with energy right after, feeling like you truly did your best. It was quite draining, since you put so much of yourself into it. You talked to Yoongi less during the week so maybe that’s why, too, but as you enjoy dinner and drinks at your apartment with Jimin, Taehyung, and Jin, you wish that your boyfriend could be here, too. They had a morning game in Heongseong so he must still be tired.

But your smile is immediate when he sends you a message.

[From: Yoongi 💕] I’m sure you did great but still, how was it?

You exchange texts throughout the evening as your friends tease you for ignoring them now, but you laugh along.

“Are there any more details about the show?” Taehyung asks. “Like what your role is or where it’ll be filmed?”

“None yet, but Hoseok seems excited when he talks about it. Maybe he doesn’t wanna say too much so I don’t get too upset if I don’t get it,” you say. “Let’s just hope it’s a big deal if I get the role, and a cheap ass show if I don’t.”

“Have you thought about what’ll happen to you and Yoongi if it ends up being a big deal?” Jin asks, worry painted on his face because as a fellow actor who’s also done filming abroad, he knows what’s expected of you and what more you have to give up.

“Not yet, I don’t want to worry myself if it turns out to be nothing,” you say. “We’ll figure it out. We've sort of just been doing things one day, one week at a time, you know? We don’t need unnecessary drama at this point.”

Your friends look at each other, collectively deciding not to burst your bubble and this world you’ve created with the man you love dearly. It might not be worth it, but it may also be a big blow if you and him don’t prepare for the implications of a new role, however small or big it is. Your life continues here and so does Yoongi’s, 3 hours away. It may not seem much, but given your respective careers, 3 hours may be a little more than you can handle.

But you’re happy. You’re tired from the travels because every bit of downtime you get, you’re driving to Daegu to see him because Yoongi’s jobs don’t give him as much freedom as you do. You’re incredibly happy knowing that you at least get to be with him, even if the time limit causes you to just spend the days in instead of savoring the autumn season and walking around town.

It’s 3 weeks later when Yoongi’s in your apartment that everything changes. You hadn’t seen him since that time he came here when he watched you do your interview. You’ve been guesting in shows to Hoseok’s insistence in hopes of continuing your relevance as you await a new project, and with a school holiday coming up, Yoongi has the weekend to spare.

It’s the usual stay-in, and it’s in the middle of a make out session as you straddle him that your phone rings, with Hoseok’s face showing up on the screen when you answer the call.

“Hey,” you say, settling yourself down on the couch. “What’s up? And why are you panting?”

“I was doing my groceries when I got a call, and I had to run to my car to let you know,” he replies, building anticipation. But he doesn’t make you wait too long, as he announces the news. “You got the role, ___. And it’s just as big as I heard.”

“Wh—what?” You mumble, not knowing which words of his to focus on.

“NBC is working with a French production company for this series. It’s an anticipated show with big stars and it’ll be shown around the world,” he explains, your mind still reeling from the news. “You’re taking the lead, ___. This is the big break we’ve been hoping for.”

“Oh my goodness,” you finally say, tears streaming down your face as you process the news. “This is— this amazing, Hoseok. I… I don’t know what to say. What are the details?”

“They’re sending them later and we can go over everything before they give the official offer.”

“Okay,” you reply, trying to calm your racing heart. Looking over at Yoongi who’s smiling softly at you, you know who you want to celebrate with. “Just let me know. I’ll just process all this first.”

“Sure thing,” Hoseok says. “I’m so proud of you, ___. I can’t wait for the world to see what you can do.”

You put the phone down and look at Yoongi next to you. He tugs your arm and you return to your seat on his lap, hugging him as you whisper that you got the role.

He returns the affection, enveloping you in his warmth as he lets you cry against his chest.

“I’m so happy for you, jagi,” he hums against your ear. “You deserve all this and more. Everyone’s gonna fall in love with you all over again.”

“I don’t know what to say,” you sob. “I’m scared but I’m so excited. Am I good enough for this? It feels like such a risk to be handing this kind of task to someone who’s only had her first lead role last year.”

“Jagi, of course you are,” he comforts, turning your head to face him and wiping your tears as they fall. “You got asked to audition after meeting at a party; that’s got to say a lot about the role fitting you so perfectly that whatever it is you exude is exactly what they’re looking for. I mean, I hope it’s all positive though.”

You giggle in sniffles.

“And your first lead role just happened to be huge. And that obviously helped in your audition and the directors choosing you,” he continues. “You earned this. Treat it as a challenge. And knowing you, you’ll put your heart into it as you always do.”

“Thank you,” you mumble, as you melt into his touch, moving to kiss the hand that’s cupping your cheek. “I’m so glad I get to share this moment with you.”

“Me, too, jagi. Me, too.”

It’s the next morning when you learn more about the project, with Hoseok coming to your apartment in the morning to discuss it with you. He arrives with breakfast for 3, and you don’t miss his soft-but-bordering-on-sadness look when you say that Yoongi’s staying for the weekend.

“Is he up?” Your manager asks as he walks to your kitchen with you.

“Nope, still asleep. He won’t be up for another hour or so.”

“Okay, good. Then I won’t be here to break the news to him.”

“What do you mean?”

Hoseok goes on to tell you about the call with the directors last night. They’re excited to have you on board, they said, loving the way you portrayed the emotions during your audition. Your face is what they’re looking for, and there’s an elegance yet relatability in you that’s perfect for the role. It’s a lot of nice words leading up to what it would entail, and at the end of it, you’re left even more excited and even more nervous. It’s almost everything you’ve dreamed of, only because of what you know you have to leave behind.

Over an hour passes by and Hoseok stands up to leave.

“I know you want this,” he says, “and this is what you’ve been working hard for. I don’t have to tell you what to do.”

“I know, Hoseok,” you sigh. “I know what I have to do.”

“You’ll be okay?”

“I guess.”

“What about him?”

“I hope so.”

He gives you a hug before he leaves, and it’s right as your bedroom door opens and Yoongi exits, mussed hair and sleepy eyes greeting you.

“Hey,” you say, walking towards him for a long, tight hug.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you smile. “Hoseok was over and I had him bring some breakfast,” you say, leading him to the counter where an array of sandwiches and parties await him.

“Oh, you talked about the role and stuff?”

You nod in response, sitting next to him as he eats.

“Are you allowed to tell me about it?”

“Yeah, so uhm. It’s about this young woman who gets into ballet after her adoptive parents die. She meets a man, falls in love, and there’s drama there, and then another man finds her who happens to be someone she knew when she was younger, and there’s drama there, too, since she discovers something about her parents and their death that makes her question her identity and basically her entire life,” you narrate.

“You’re playing a ballerina?” He gasps. “___, that’s perfect for you. I’m sure your mom would be ecstatic.”

“She will,” you manage a smile. “And also, uh, it’ll be filmed mostly in Paris.”

“Hmm,” he responds, unable to look you in the eyes. “So it’s a foreign series?”

“Not really. It’s a joint project between production companies,” you explain. “My male love interests are Korean and French. There’s a mix of actors in it and the cast is amazing. And there’s a lot going on, so much drama and romance and art. The venues look amazing and I—”

You stop at the feel of tears pricking your eyes, prompting Yoongi to ask what’s wrong.

“I… I’ll be away for a while,” you say. “Filming will take at least 6 months and I have to fly there earlier for French and ballet lessons. And promotions would be huge. And—”

You’re crying harder now, as the words make things even more real. You’re not only playing a role that seems to fit you perfectly; you’re also gonna be in Paris where your mom is. To be able to be with her is just as much of a dream for you, especially as she gets to watch you do what you love.

But that also means leaving behind the person you love most in the world, and as he stands to cradle your head in his arms, you feel the weight of your own dreams pull you down. Being 3 hours away has been challenging for both of you; you can’t imagine how much more when you’re thousands of miles away.

“Jagi-ya, everything sounds amazing,” he says, but you don’t miss the sadness in his voice. “You get to learn new things, you get to be with your mom, you get to be in a new place and act and do what you love. It’s what you’ve always wanted.”

“I just… I just don’t want to be so far away from you, not again,” you say.

Yoongi doesn’t know the words to say. He was never good with them, especially when it came to you. He always had other ways to show you how he felt, but he doesn’t have anything for this. He’s incredibly happy for you, but just like you, he doesn’t want to be far away from the person he loves most.

But there’s a reason why he doesn’t think he’ll be good at long-distance relationships. It’s the love he’d fail to show, the needs he’d fail to address, it’s the time that’d pass and the changes in between that would be too difficult for him to handle. Much as he wants to comfort you and say that everything will be alright and that you’ll both be okay, he doesn’t have it in him to break your heart by making promises he can’t keep. He loves you and will continue to; he just doesn’t know how to do that properly when he’s not next to you.

So he just kisses you, tender in all the ways that he can make it, to let you know whatever it is he can’t say, that he doesn’t have words for. It stops your cries a little, but the sight of your tear-stained cheeks still hurts him.

Neither of you says anything for a while but you don’t let go of each other. Even the rest of the day is spent similarly - with minimal conversations and hands that don’t separate, lips that constantly find each other, and bodies that give and feel pleasure as if this is all you can give because for now, words aren’t enough.

Maybe you’ll find the words one day and so will he. Maybe then they’ll be enough - to heal your heart or break it, you don’t quite know.

Your heart has been heavy since Yoongi left your apartment last week. You’re not sure if you were expecting him to assure you that things are going to be fine between the both of you, but it doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt when he chose not to say anything about it. You know that he’s the type to think hard about what he’ll say; maybe he just didn’t know what to tell you then, but days later, he still doesn’t, and that’s ringing the tiniest alarm bells in your head.

He acknowledges your messages of updates you give about the project. You’re working with Hoseok to look at the contract and the schedules, and you’re getting more details as the days go by. Yoongi doesn’t ask anything more, though, a rarity since he’s said before that he enjoys it when you talk about work.

You want to just be with him, knowing that a hug or a kiss would ease the tension, but that itself makes you worry. What will happen when you’re away and there’s something going on that you both don’t want to address? How would you resolve that when you can’t just drive to each other to fix things? What if he’s going through something that he doesn’t want to talk about? It’s happened before after all. What if you’re struggling and missing him so much? What if the time and distance become too much?

You let the week pass without seeing each other. Their team has an out-of-town game and the shop has work requests that he’s helping his dad with. You’re also exhausted from all the meetings this week; you have an upcoming photoshoot that you’re preparing for, too.

So you decide to take an early drive to Daegu the next weekend, getting the ire of Hoseok who had to move a meeting that Saturday because you asked.

“I just really, really need to see him,” you tell your manager over the phone. “I’m worried about us and I’m losing my mind. I need to know that things are okay.”

Hoseok doesn’t argue. You rarely ever ask to move things around and this matters too much to you, as your shaky voice tells him.

You make it to the gymnasium for the game, finding Mr. Min in one of the seats and surprising him.

“Hello, my dear,” he beams, hugging you tightly. “I’m so glad you’re here. Does my son know you’re coming?”

“No, I kinda just decided last night.”

“Okay, then. Maybe your presence will cure his grumpiness,” the old man laughs.

“He’s been grumpy?” You wonder, not having seen that through his texts this past week.

“Yeah, more than usual. He hasn’t been that way since you arrived last summer,” he says. “They had a bad loss the other day. He’s also stressing himself out by helping me manage the shop when I said I could do it. You two didn’t fight, did you?”

“No,” you respond. “I mean, not that I know of.”

“Well, then can you just comfort him in case something else is up? Maybe he also just misses you.”

You hum in response and try to enjoy the game. It’s quite a stressful one that Yoongi doesn’t get to look your way. They eventually lose in a heartbreaking manner and you can sense his frustration through his gritted teeth and blank stare. You decide to send him a text that you’re here and will just wait for him at his apartment. He replies with an “okay.”

He arrives with a look of disappointment that you don’t know how to ease. During the times he’d lose in their games as a player before, he said he just liked to deal with it on his own but having you around made things better. It seems that’s still the case now, as he falls into your embrace once he enters the door.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he mumbles. “I’m sorry your first game is a loss.”

“It’s okay, it won’t be the last one,” you assure. “At least I got to watch you be a sexy coach and all.”

He chuckles and kisses you, but you can feel he’s still upset, so you don’t push it, knowing that talking about something else upsetting like your scheduled departure won’t do you any good, even if it’s one reason why you came here in the first place. You decide to just let the day pass with cuddles and barely any words. He falls asleep early, with his arms around your waist, and you’ve never felt so far away from him.

You plan to leave in the late afternoon the next day. You both sleep through the morning and Yoongi makes you a loaded brunch to make up for being upset after the loss. You suppose it’s good a time as any, so you tell him that you took the offer and will be signing the contract next week.

“I’m leaving in a month,” you say. “I’ll be away for at least 7 months with projects waiting for me in Seoul. It’s a lot, Yoongi. And I don’t know where we stand right now. You haven’t really said much since the other week.”

“It’s really happening,” he smiles, the tinge of sadness unmistakable. “I guess I’ve been avoiding what taking this role would mean.”

“And what exactly would that be?”

Yoongi doesn’t answer, prompting you to ask again.

“Jagi, it’s a big project that requires so much of your time and energy. And I don’t… I don’t want you to be thinking of anything else that isn’t about that.”

“You don’t want me to be thinking of you, is that it? You don’t want to go through this with me. Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“What I’m trying to say is that you need to put all your focus on your role, remove all distractions and stuff. That includes me.”

“You’re not seriously suggesting we end this over a 7-month project, are you?” You ask, incredulous that it’s his immediate thought.

“A lot can happen in 7 months.”

“Like what? I’m not gonna change. I'm not gonna fall in love with someone else while I’m away,” you insist. “I already know I’m gonna be missing you like crazy everyday, wishing you were with me.”

“Exactly. Do you think that would do you any good? Missing someone who can’t be there next to you?”

“How would you know it won’t?”

“Because we’ve done this before, and I know what you had to give up to be there for me because I couldn’t be there for you,” he exclaims. “Remember how it was all those years ago? The late-nights running over lines because you spent the whole day with me? The back-and-forth trips to see me because I couldn’t move? The missed auditions because you had to come here just so I wouldn’t have another breakdown? Loving me while living your dream never did you any good. This is too big for you to consider me a part of it.”

“Are you hearing yourself?” You demand. “I made all those decisions because I loved you and I’d make them over and over again. Things are different now. We’ve learned. We’re more mature and you’re not… you’re not broken anymore.”

“But loving me this time around isn’t gonna be any different. It won’t be easy,” he argues. “We survived the past weeks with an arrangement that barely works but we try and yes, it’s all worth it when we finally see each other but how long will he have to hold on for those 7 months you’ll be away? Missing each other? Hoping to be with each other?”

He heaves, feeling so much at this moment. He wants to pull you close to him, hug you as you cry but he doesn’t know if it’s the right thing to do. He doesn’t know how to comfort you when he’s the one breaking your heart.

“I… I’m not good at expressing how I feel,” he continues. “I don’t… I don’t know what to do with myself while you’re gone, I don’t know how to be there for you while you’re not here. And I don’t want you to feel burdened with going away because of who you’re leaving behind. You apologize every time you have to go back to your life, and I’d hate for you to feel that you’re meant to be anywhere but there. That’s where you belong. You always have.”

You stand there in disbelief just as he is. He’d been in denial for so long about the both of you, choosing instead to live in his version of reality where your dreams and plans align, where your days are spent in your own world and nothing - including him, could hurt you.

It’s easy to say he’s being over dramatic. There’s so much love between the both of you; clearly that should be enough to make things work. It’s just 7 months after all. But he knows how you love and how you want to be loved. He knows that as long as you’re together, you’ll be constantly living in 2 worlds - the one where you’re living your dream and the one where you’re wishing you weren’t, because somehow, he’ll just always exist in the latter.

He’ll have a hard time, too, and that’s what he’s terrified about. He doesn’t want to say just how much he misses you, because he misses you a lot. The last thing he wants is for you to be burdened by it, and Yoongi knows that if he’ll struggle, he’d rather he does it without you knowing, and staying together would just hurt the both of you, and your dream is too important for your distance to affect that.

“I don’t know why you don’t even think that it could work,” you say.

“It could, but to what expense?” He asks.

You could always come with me, you want to say, but you know that would never be an option. He didn’t think Seoul was for him all those years ago; you doubt he’d think Paris would be. He has his own dreams to live in this town, the big and the gentle ones. Those matter just as much, and you wouldn’t want him to give those up, especially after what he suffered through. Those are what’s left for him, what pushes him. They’re what he lives for. You thought at one point, so were you.

“I guess I was being naive,” he says after a long beat. “I didn’t think I’d ever have the chance to get back with you so when we did, nothing else mattered. All I knew was that I was happy for the first time in a long time. I didn’t dare to think of what would happen after the summer. I was naive to think that things wouldn’t change much, that we would go on without needing to talk about it. And now this big thing is happening for you and it was just a slap on the face.”

You look at him as he struggles to look at you. He fiddles with his fingers, and you want nothing more than to hold his hand but you don’t know what that would do, not if this turns out to be the end of things. Somehow you don’t have the will to fight because a part of you knows he’s right. You just wish he wasn’t.

With how both of you love and want to be loved, you know it’s going to be hard, and it’s too much to ask for one of you to give something up. He watched his family get hurt with such choices; you just wish he’d at least try to make it work.

“I thought it was gonna be different this time around,” you finally say. “I guess I was being naive, too. Something else will always be more important than us.”

You’ve only seen Yoongi cry once and you remember how much it broke you to see that. He’s not the type to show that much emotion, so seeing him break right now with a few tears rolling down his face is breaking you in all the ways possible.

“I’m sorry,” he heaves, covering his face as he tries to stop crying. “You didn’t come all the way here just for us to end like this.”

“It seems like we’d have to eventually,” you respond, feeling the numbness start to course through you, just like that first time. “I know you have your own dreams to live here. And I’m so sorry, too, for coming back and messing up the life you’ve created for yourself in this place.”

“I don’t regret being with you again, ___. All I’ve ever been was happy with you.”

“Maybe one day, in 10 years perhaps, or in another lifetime,” you manage to say as you wipe your tears. “Maybe then we’ll finally choose us.”

You decide against kissing him a final time, knowing you’ll probably ask him to take it all back. So you give him a smile, one that tells him that sad as you may be, deep down you understand. And it’s all going to be okay.

You struggle for the next 2 weeks, trying to keep all the hurt in until you finally concede and ask your friends to come over so you can cry everything out. They do their best to comfort you, but they know that all you want is their presence so that you don’t have to go through this all on your own. You insist that all you need is a good cry and you’ll be fine.

There’s a whole world waiting for you in 2 weeks’ time. The crew hosting you there wants you to experience Paris in the best way possible. You’re excited for the lessons and you can’t wait to be with your mom again. Jimin will be accompanying you so you know you won’t get bored, and there’s so much to see and do that you think you’ll be too preoccupied to think about your broken heart. You’ve met with the cast and you already know that you’re gonna get along well. Your male leads have been lovely, too, and you know you have to be comfortable with them enough for the intimate scenes you’ll be having.

But tonight, you cry and you cry hard. It ends with Taehyung hugging you as you sleep, and that wouldn’t be the last. For the next several days, Jimin makes sure that you’re never alone, always showing up with a cup of coffee and texting you everyday of a new place to check out in Paris. Jin savors the time he has with you, taking you to lunches and dinners - sparking once more those rumors about the 2 of you dating - and hyping you up for your role.

You even meet Jungkook and Namjoon, who try their best to comfort you after you narrate what happened.

“No need to update me about him this time,” you tell them. “Somehow I just know he’s gonna be okay. But still, please make sure he is.”

Your busy schedule helps keep you from thinking about Yoongi, but as you learn, all it really takes is a broken hair tie to remind you of the love you lost the second time around, and how despite all the good things waiting for you, you know deep down you would’ve wanted to experience all of this with him.

It doesn’t help that on the weekend before you leave, your photoshoot location happens to be in a town just 30 minutes west of Daegu. Following your heart this one time, you instruct the driver to head to Yoongi’s house, assuring Jimin that you just want to have a proper goodbye with the man before you leave.

Yoongi’s car is parked outside so you know he’s home. Keeping yourself from running back to yours, you garner the courage to walk the steps to his front door, ringing the bell and taking a deep breath when you hear footsteps behind it.

He stands before you, his disheveled hair and the black crescents under his eyes telling you that he’s maybe struggling just as much as you are.

“Hey,” you greet, trying so hard to level your voice. “I was in town and thought I’d drop by. Can I come in for a bit?”

“Y-yeah, sure,” he says, stepping aside to let you enter. “It’s just quite a mess.”

You look around, his apartment suddenly looking way different from that last time you were here. There are unwashed dishes on the sink and piles of takeaway boxes on the table. You spot the bottles of whiskey on the floor and the blankets on the couch. You hate to think that this is how he was that first time, and the thought breaks you even more.

“It’s just been a hard couple of weeks,” he says, seeing your face falter at the state of his place.

That’s quite an understatement, actually. He’s been a terrible mess since you left that day. He’s glad he’s at least professional enough to get his shit together during training and games, but once he gets home, he stops caring about anything else. He likes to think it’s just a phase; he was like this the first time he let you go, and it took a while but he did get his act together.

“It’s been hard for me, too,” you admit, catching him by surprise. “I leave in a week but I feel quite unprepared. There’s too much of myself I’m leaving behind.”

“Hey, ja— I mean, ___. I told you not to think about it,” he says. “You’re gonna do great, okay? And you’ll love it there. They have amazing parks and so many flower shops and vintage stores. You’ll never run out of things to do. You’ll—”

Your sudden hug stops him, even more when you start crying against his chest, your tears soaking through his shirt and he just knows, those will leave a mark.

“Why didn’t you ask me to stay,” you sob. “We could have a life here together. Just you and me. Just ask me, please.”

The words sound foreign but they’re yours, and they hold truths that you don’t want to vocalize, only because it feels like betraying your dream, even if a big part of you knows that the man currently holding you is just as much your dream as being an actor is. You wish you were brave enough to choose this life and that he would be, too. But you always knew that your plans for yourselves never aligned with each other’s; it never really did. Summer romances don’t last, after all, and they’re meant to fall away just like the season does.

But you let yourself be vulnerable at this moment, even if you know that his response wouldn’t change, and that would somehow hurt you more.

“I can’t, ___. You know I can’t,” he says, his voice shaking as he lets himself be vulnerable and cries, too. “You were always meant for more. This place, this isn’t more; it never was. And that means me, too.”

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” you say, facing him now.

“You’ve wanted this for much longer than you’ve wanted me,” he says, cupping your cheek.

You close your eyes as you feel his touch for what seems to be the last time, your tears constantly falling that his thumb wipes away.

“Just live that dream for me, okay? That’s all I want. That would be enough,” he whispers, kissing your forehead.

“Promise me you’ll live yours, too?”

“I will,” he says.

You let yourself be weak one last time and kiss his lips, soft and quick, enough to have something for both of you to hold onto.

He looks at you with sorry eyes and you know that’s all he could give you - an apology.

“Goodbye, Yoongi.”

Yoongi waits patiently inside his car, his fingers tapping the wheel as if that would magically call you out of your apartment building. You told him your flight schedule before and he knows you usually leave early because you don’t like being late. You should be leaving around this time, and quite frankly, he doesn’t know why he’s even here. It seems as if he can’t let you go every time, but he does anyway, even if he yearns to crawl back to you right after.

He’s parked nearby, close enough to see you exit the building, but far enough to hide in case he chickens out. It’s not long before he sees a van pull up and Jimin and a few men loading up endless luggage bags. You exit right after, in comfortable clothes and a baseball cap, and he stops himself from going out of his car to give you one last hug.

He watches you hug Taehyung who sends you off. The time ticks and you’re entering your car, closing the door, and driving away.

Yoongi’s eyes follow the van until it disappears from his sight, knowing that whatever chance he had to tell you he loves you one last time is gone. Maybe it’s better that he didn’t. What good is his love if it’s not enough to keep you next to him? Maybe it’s enough to make you happy, he decides, but not enough to make you happy with him.

A knock on the window interrupts him, and he’s about to come up with some bullshit excuse on why he’s parked outside the building when he realizes it’s Taehyung. Yoongi exits the car and greets his friend.

“You know she would’ve liked to see you, right?” The younger man says. “It’s why you’re here, isn’t it? You wanted to see her, too?”

“I don’t know,” Yoongi shrugs. “I guess I just didn’t want the last image I have of her to be one where she’s crying because I’m breaking her heart again.”

“She’s taking it a lot better this time around. She’s not denying how much it hurts, and I think that helps,” Taehyung says. “You were the best thing in her life these past few months, and she’s just choosing to keep all the good memories with her.”

“That’s good,” Yoongi hums.

The thought of you being more positive is already making him feel a lot better.

“She wanted me to give this to you,” Taehyung adds, handing Yoongi a small envelope. “Take care of yourself, okay? And for her sake, please win that championship.”

Both men share a laugh in the crisp autumn air, and it’s enough to ease the tension. Taehyung bids him goodbye and Yoongi returns to his car, choosing to read whatever you left for him back home.

Yoongi,

I didn’t want our last time to be full of tears and I wish I got to say this all to you and hold you while I did.

I know that I’m happiest when I’m with you and that will never change. But for now, we’ll go on chasing the dreams that keep us whole. I hope one day both our dreams will include each other.

Your heart will always be my home. Thank you for sharing it with me.

With all the love I could possibly give from thousands of miles away and everyday,

___.

Series Masterlist

Permanent Taglist: @sherlynxx @di0rgguk @thequeen-kat @fan-ati--c @cravingforhotchocolate @adoraminie @helenazbmrskai @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @gukssunshine @nch327 @kookxin @petuliii @yoursthv @libra04 @fancycollectormoon @twixxxpie @ignoretheskies @ohmydarlin-g @bids97 @minyoongiboongi @bangtansmauyeondan @bora-bae7 @investedreader @petalsofink @moonchild1 @jvngkooker @starbtslove @jungoomoles

Series Taglist: @wobblewobble822 @shydestinyyouth @nk01119888-blog @ktownshizzle

#yoongi fic #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfiction #bts suga #min yoongi #yoongi x you #yoongi series

294 notes · View notes

tanchadubai · 2 years

Text

Best Chinese Restaurant Business Bay Dubai - Tan cha Dubai

Tàn Chá has garnered quite a reputation for its feature in the esteemed Michelin Guide, already earning a spot among the impressive array of Michelin-selected restaurants as best-rated Chinese fine-dining destination in Dubai. This prestigious restaurant presents authentic, contemporary Chinese cooking at the heart of Dubai’s Business Bay, where tastefully decorated dishes are met with exceptional service and exemplary culinary standards.Tàn Chá brings you an unmatched full sensory experience with a lively ambiance featuring in-house tunes curated by our DJ crew. Admire original elaborate art installations designed by brilliant artist Grégoire A. Meyer, which contrast with the low lighting of the interior to create a mesmerizing spectacle for the eyes. Tàn Chá manages to achieve the ultimate goal of fusing Chinese cuisine with fine dining, a combination of authentic taste and culinary perfection through an avant-garde mix of flavors and ingredients.

#best chinese restaurant dubai #chinese restaurants in business bay #authentic chinese restaurant dubai #best restaurants in business bay dubai #restaurants near business bay dubai #top chinese restaurants in dubai

0 notes

moonrestaurant · 7 months

Text

#lebanese food business bay #Best Business Bay restaurants #business bay cafes and restaurants #restaurant near business bay #Hookah Café near me

1 note · View note

tancha01 · 1 year

Text

Tàn Chá | Events | Chinese Restaurant Dubai

Are you looking for the perfect venue for your next corporate event or private party? Look no further than Tàn Chá. Our best restaurants in business bay dubai offer the best Asian cuisine in Dubai, including delicious dim sum. Contact us today to learn more about our catering services!

#best restaurants in business bay dubai #chinese restaurant dubai #best Asian cuisine in dubai #restaurants business bay #dim sum restaurant dubai #Tàn Chá

0 notes

justanamesstuff · 1 year

Text

All I Need

Chapter 7

Matty Healy!dad x f!reader

A/N: what was promised is debt! I'm uploading it hours earlier than I was planning...I really hope you enjoy it, guys. It's a BIG ONE! I'm so nervous about it! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK ♥ Thank u for reading and supporting!!

Warnings: explicit +18 scenes MINORS DO NOT INTERNACT!; swearing; angst; crying; typos.

Word count: 12.5 K (sorry not sorry haha)

MASTERLIST

2 weeks later…at home.

Y/n felt pathetic checking her phone like a teenager waiting for her crush to reply and keep the conversation going. She left the device on the kitchen table as if it burned her hand; returning to the list of emails waiting for her. No matter how hard she tried to focus on her tasks, her attention was else where.

Since her phone call with Grace – after the horrible second date —, she tried to give Paul a real chance. It was the only reasonable option. ‘Matty doesn’t want to be with me, Paul does, right?’, Y/n repeated like a mantra.

Therefore, Paul and Y/n had been texting none stop, like –literally– teenagers. Everything went smoothly, until it didn’t. A few days before, Paul stopped answering suddenly; making Y/n felt awful. She didn’t talk about it with Grace, not even with Matty. Y/n felt childish; she tried to think that Paul was probably busy with work, and she was being irrational about everything.

Y/n was sulking, when her phone started ringing. It took seconds for her to reach for it. Paul was calling.

“Hello?” She answered, trying to keep her feelings at bay.

Paul started talking at the other end of the line. “Hi, darling.”

“Hi…” ‘What should I say?’, she wondered.

“Are you at home? Are you busy?” He asked quickly, almost, desperate.

Y/n felt uncomfortable with Paul’s approach. “I’m home and…depends. Why?” She inquired him.

His hot and cold attitude surprised her, at the same time, it made her wonder. Made her worried, to the point of pondered multiple scenarios about what was really going on with Paul.

“What about if I pick you up in…” He started saying. Y/n waited him to finish his phrase, hanging from each word. “Let’s say, one hour?”

Y/n bit her lower lip. “For what?”

“I have an evening event, work thing…it won’t last long, and then we can go to a nice restaurant…or to my house, if you like…” Paul suggested lowering his voice.

Y/n felt the impulse to say no, but remembered Grace’s words. “Okay. Should I dress up or something?” She consulted, feeling her pulse going wild.

“No, no…it’s a little bit formal, not too much though.” He explained, at the same time, Y/n could hear a second voice speaking at the other end. Maybe an assistant, maybe not. Y/n shocked her head, she was looking too much into this.

“Okay, fine.” Y/n finally agreed to it.

“Perfect, you’re a saint!! See you in an hour!” He hung up without giving Y/n the chance to say her goodbyes.

Y/n stared at her black screen, her mind razing with thoughts. She needed to ask Matty or Grace to look after Amelia for the evening, possibly for the entire night. She decided asking Grace was the best decision.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Le grand salon,

Center of London.

Y/n felt like a fish out of the water around those people. Paul left her as soon as they arrived, promising her to be right back after talking with a few important CEOs or whatever. Y/n sipped from the champagne they were serving. It tasted awful, but she was past the mood stage of having enough anger to complain.

She tried to wait patently for Paul to return, for someone to be remotely nice. Although, after an hour and a half of walking around the salon, gaining sketched looks from Paul’s co-workers or people there –she thought worked with/for him–, Y/n was done with standing like part of the decoration. Y/n decided to actually search for the man.

Y/n looked around before leaving the safety of the corner that hosted her. He wasn’t at any part of the salon, she looked around multiple times, expecting to find him. Nothing.

Defeated and ready to leave, Y/n approached a man she saw Paul greeting with a friendly hug after they arrived together. Maybe he knew where Paul was.

She touched him on his shoulder, “Excuse me.” Y/n cleaned her throat. The man in questions turned around after pausing his conversation, looking at her as if he was ten feet above Y/n. She felt tiny.

“What do you want?” The man spat at her.

Y/n tried not to feel interpellated by his poisonous words. “Do you know where Paul is?” She queried, arranging her form to look bigger and stronger than she felt inside.

“No, haven’t seen him in a few minutes.” He replied, starting to turned back around. Y/n stopped him. “What now?” He almost shouted at her.

“Have you seen where he went?”

“No. Fucking hell, search the patio… at the back… or, the bathroom. I don’t know, I don’t care. Bye.” He ended the conversation all at once.

The idea of leaving without Paul crossed Y/n’s mind, although she quickly brushed it off. Where was he?

The wonder made her walk to try the places the man mentioned. It was the last chance, if he wasn’t there she was going to leave without caring.

Y/n felt pathetic walking down the long alley between the grand salon and the patio. She felt bad to even care about this people’s treatment, they were all horrible. Y/n was mad at Paul again; because he left her alone, yes, but also because he wasn’t in fact the Prince Charming she expected. Y/n felt like her own error to pretend him to be that.

Her heels stopped making a rhythmic sound on the tiled floor when she stood at the opening door connecting with the back patio. A couple of little groups of people were smoking, even though Paul wasn’t there.

“Sorry,” She interrupted the closest group’s conversation. “Do you know Paul?”

“Yeah.” A woman said shortly.

“Great! By chance, have you seen him?” Y/n asked innocently, gaining a sceptical look from the woman.

“Um, yeah, he’s…” She looked around the group, as if she was expecting some kind of help. She continued. “He’s in the bathroom-”

“Perfect, thank you!” Y/n felt relief washing over her, turning around to finally found the person she had been looking for.

The woman spoke from behind Y/n, “If I were you, I won’t go there.” She was clearly trying to warn her, Y/n feared the worst.

Her feet moved as if they had life of its own; Y/n crossed the hall, reaching for the bathroom area. The sounds coming from the lady’s bathroom confirmed her fears.

Y/n pushed the door open. The picture in front of her broke her heart. Paul was between a pretty girl’s legs, with his pants all the way down, clearly pushing inside her. Both of them repeating the sounds she had been hearing from outside. Paul was fucking another girl.

“Oh my god!” Y/n could only say, making them stopped immediately.

The girl looked at her in shock, poking her face from behind Paul’s neck. “Fuck…” She breathed out.

Y/n stood there, with her head foggy, just staring at them. The girl looked back at Y/n, she looked familiar. Y/n shook her head, she didn’t care up to that point.

The girl was seated on the bathroom counter and Paul was still in front of her, not moving away. They had been fucking while she waited like a moron.

“Y/n!” Paul exclaimed, tugging his trousers up – or trying to —, failing miserable. His voice took her out of her hypnotic trance.

“Fuck no.” Y/n told her. “I’m leaving!” She pointed at Paul, feeling her eyes burning with tears. “Don’t call me, don’t text me…nothing, I don’t want to know anything about you, arsehole!” Y/n let her anger took over.

She stumbled through the venue as fast as she could. Y/n wanted the refuge of her house, of her home. She needed Grace and to hug Amelia.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Living room, home.

Grace felt worried immediately as she saw Y/n appeared on the living room. Her makeup was all mushed and running all over her face, the pair of heels on one hand and her hair all messed up.

“What happened to you?” She approached her friend, leaving Amelia on the floor playing.

Y/n tried to form a sentence, but nothing came out of her mouth. She was still too stunned to speak. Grace didn’t think twice, embracing her in a big hug.

“It’s okay, I’m here…we’re here.” She rocked Y/n from side to side.

After a few minutes, Amelia noticed her playing partner wasn’t beside her and looked for Grace. Noticing her mother was there too. “Mommy!” She greeted her.

Grace let her go, shielding her from the child’s view until Y/n ran her hands under her eyes, trying to get rid of the makeup as best as she could.

“Hi, baby.” She kneeled down, opening her arms. Amelia ran to her.

Y/n started to crying in silence when she felt the soft weight of Amelia pushing on her chest. She gave her mother a comfort she wasn’t aware of. Amelia grew bored after a little time, returning to her toys. Y/n stayed down on her knees, looking at her daughter.

Grace kept a close eye on her friend’s form during the whole interaction. “Y/n, go and get change, clean your face…whatever you need. I’ll make a cup of tea, and then we can talk, okay?” Grace commanded Y/n.

“Yes. Thank you.” Y/n agreed.

******************************************************************************************

After she did everything as Grace told her – because Y/n hadn't had the strength to do anything apart from that – she returned downstairs.

Graces awaited for her in the living room, watching Amelia live inside her own bubble of imagination and games. Y/n sited besides Grace on the big couch, looking at the toddler as well.

The mugs were steaming in the coffee table. “Come on, take a big sip.”

The tea was strong, very sweet for her liking, but it was a consolation at the same time. “He was with another girl.” Y/n told Grace, her sight still on her daughter, while she held the cup closer to her face.

“What?”

“He left me for an hour and a half, almost two hours…alone. I went searching, he was…you know…with another girl, on the bathroom counter. Not any other girl, the one from the park…”

“I’m going to kill him!” Grace stood up as if she was going to do it right there.

“Sit back down!” Y/n instructed her best friend. She desperately needed her close, not far away – committing a crime, metaphorically or not.

Grace couldn’t contain her surprised, while she sited back. “I can’t believe it. My cousin Paul?”

“Yes, your Prince Charming cousin Paul…” Y/n forced herself to take another sip of her infusion.

“He’s such an arse-”

“Language!”

“She needs to know men are horrible.” Grace justified herself, pointing towards Amelia. “And what did you do?”

Y/n recalled the situation on her head. Her hands shock a little around the tea cup. “Scream at him, told him not to reach out, and stormed out.”

“Y/n, I’m so sorry.” Grace apologized genuinely. If it wasn’t for her, Y/n would never have known Paul. If she had never let Y/n’s get away with her way, asking for Paul’s number, she would never be in that situation; trying to hold the tears back because she didn’t want Amelia to suffer seeing her upset.

“It’s not your fault, Grace.” Y/n took Grace’s on her own, she squeezed it.

“I feel like it is. He’s my cousin-” Grace insisted.

“You’re not responsible for your cousin’s actions.”

“Still.”

Y/n knew Grace enough to keep insisting. Instead, she decided to leave it be for now. She was convinced Grace wasn’t guilty of his sorrows. The only one in the wrong was Paul, and her too.

She felt the tears coming back.

Y/n self-reproached herself while she asked Grace, “Can you take Amelia to your house? I don’t want her to see me like this. I can ask Matty, but he’s working on the last album…” Y/n started to ramble.

“Yeah, yeah. We can have a pyjama party.” Y/n’s friend tried to erase the guilt. Y/n was in her right to take some time-off from parenting.

“Thank you.” Y/n said while her voice broke.

Grace felt a wave of worry. “Oh, no…you sure you want to be alone?”

“Mhm…” Y/n reply through her bitten lips.

“You call me if you need me, okay? I’ll be here in a heartbeat, yes?” Grace insisted, making Y/n to turned her head to the side. She searched on Y/n’s eyes for some sort of reassurance that she was indeed going to be okay staying on her own.

“I know, Grace. Thank you.”

“Stop that…I love you…I’m so sorry.”

Grace pushed Y/n on a new hug, rubbing her back. Y/n let some tears drop in silence, while hugging her friend back.

“I love you too.” Y/n mumbled on her shoulder.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On the couch…

Y/n dried the tears from her eyes. Her whole face was hurting. Her eyes were moisturized but by all the wrong reasons; her head was pounding loud, making here wince with pain. She felt so pathetic, crying for a man. She never learned to pick the right ones, apparently.

‘It was my fault or the guys I chose? What was wrong?’, Y/n recriminated herself.

She wasn’t asking for a fairytale. Y/n wanted a true man, someone who can be there for her, someone wanting to share life with her. Apparently, it was a lot to ask.

Y/n let her body fall into the couch, closing her eyes. Wishing, praying, this was a bad joke, a dream; whatever instead of this stupid situation. Paul was an asshole, why was she crying about an idiot who didn’t deserve her sorrow?

Y/n groaned loud and turned around, screaming into the cushion; trying to get reed of part of the angsty feeling. She wasn’t aware someone else was hearing her download.

“Y/n?” Matty asked out of the blue, scaring her.

“Jesus, Matty! You scared the shit out of me!” She prompted herself enough to turned around and saw his face, without leaving the couch. Y/n returned to her previous position, laying down.

“Sorry.” He apologized. Y/n heard him walk closer to her. “Are you okay? Where’s Amelia?” He was crunched down at her right side.

“Grace took Amelia to her flat…I needed a minute alone, and you-” Y/n dodged his first question purposely.

He interrupted her, worried. “Why?”

“Don’t ask, Matty.” Y/n massaged her temples roughly, the headache persisted.

“Should I worry?” Matty moved her hair to uncover her face; he wanted to find answers on her factions at least.

“Yes…no. I don’t know-” She turned to the side, looking directly into his eyes. The soft blue glow of the TV was illuminating her face, meanwhile the orange light coming from the hall reflected on Matty's factions.

He went, without thinking, to caressed her cheek. “Y/n, please.” She closed her eyes before his plead.

Keeping her ground, she muttered. “Prince Charming wasn’t so charming after all.” Y/n tried to hold a whimper, against of the idea of sounding like a fool.

“Paul?” Matty inquired.

“Yes, him…” Y/n spoken as if she was naming the devil himself.

Matty started to fear the worst. If that fucker did something to her, he wouldn’t respond of his actions. His heart was pounding hard on his chest when he asked, “What did he do? Did he-”

“No, no.” Y/n lift her head, resting her weight on her elbows. “Nothing like that- He was seeing another girl…a co-worker, or maybe she wasn’t a- I don’t even know. Maybe he was going out with other girls too. Fucking with them. Heck-The possibilities are infinite…”

Matty stayed on his place, beside the couch, clenched down, battling with his head. He didn’t know what to say or do too, he didn't want to make her feel worse. Matty stated his case before about not liking Paul, even though this was about Y/n, not him or his opinions.

“How did you find out?” His words were careful, Y/n noticed.

Y/n let her body fall again on the comfort of the couch. “I saw him fucking a girl…a girl we bumped into before.. In a bathroom at his work event, after he left me for hours alone-”

Her sight was on the ceiling, she couldn’t look at Matty and saw the pity on his eyes. Not from him.

“Y/n…”

“I think she wasn’t the only one he was with…” She continued to ramble about her thoughts she went through after Grace left with Amelia. Y/n was conscious she was spiralling, but her mind couldn’t help it. The repeating conspiracy theory making her feel sink even deeper on a hole of sadness and self-pity was on.

“Baby…” Matty tried.

“Don’t pity me, Matty. Not you.” Y/n tried to hide her face behind her hands. Her voice came muffled from behind them.

“Do you want me to go and kick him down from his white horse?” Matty tried to get rid of some of the tension. He kicked himself for trying to joke when things get complex, although he didn’t know what else to do. Matty wanted – needed – to make Y/n feel good again.

Y/n’s body shook with laughter. Matty smiled at her. “Not worth it.” Y/n finally admitted.

“It’s if it makes you feel better, baby, it is.” Matty said, his words dripping with sincerity and full of his own emotions.

Y/n spoke again after a short silence, “Why I didn’t see it sooner?”

“No, no…” Matty started, pushing her a little further into the couch, making space beside Y/n’s form. He let his left arm served as a pillow for her head, simultaneously, his right hand touched her owns, uncovering her face. “This is not your fault, at all!” Matty held her face, so she was looking at him.

Y/n diverted her eyes, further. She felt something, she couldn’t quite place, looking at Matty’s soft eyes. “I should-”

“Nothing. You should nothing. He’s the wanker here, not you…you did nothing wrong.” Matty insisted.

“Matty?”

“Yes?”

“Since you’re a guy-”

“Up to discussion-”

“Why they don’t like me? There’s something wrong with me?”

Matty stopped breathing for a second, his body started to felt hot, and he was too aware of his heartbeat. ‘How could he tell her without actually telling her?’, he debated with himself.

“Love-” Matty tried to gain some time.

Y/n had other plans, she insisted, “Seriously, tell me.”

“Y/n there is nothing, absolutely nothing, wrong with you…” Matty told her without lying.

She continued spoken up her wonders, “Am I ugly? I think I look okay…No, don’t answer! This is so dumb. Fuck-” Y/n started to lift her body from the couch, she wanted to hide in the safety of her bed.

Matty was quicker and pushed her –without too much force– back down again. He was almost on top of Y/n, making her blush strongly like a teen.

“Stay here and listen to me….listen to me.” Matty accentuated every word.

Y/n tried to protest, failing. “Matty.”

He took a minute to think what to say. “There’s nothing wrong with you. Far from that. You’re the prettiest girl walking this town, this earth-”

“No.” Y/n interrupted.

“Yes. You’re so gorgeous, baby. From all perspectives. You’re one of a kind. There’s no one like you…I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, Y/n.” Matty’s words brought tears to her eyes. There was something unspoken under his words, something she wanted from him but was scared to acknowledge it at the same time.

Y/n rounded him with her arms, running her hands through the curls on the nape of his neck. “Matty?” She asked.

“Yeah?” Matty replied, feeling weak from the proximity and Y/n’s touch.

A force was pulling him down, closer to her face, until their noses touched. Matty breathe deeply, surrounded by her essence.

“Please.” Y/n begged.

“What?” He asked, brushing her nose with his own.

“I need you.” Y/n implored through half open eyelids.

Matty tried to reason with her, “Y/n, you’re upset.”

He was against taking advantage of her. Y/n was still very perturbed about the evening events. No matter how much Matty wanted her to ask him to be with her, to love her, to take care of her, he had to hold his ground.

“Yes, I’m fucking pissed…and I want you, please.” Y/n pushed her body up, coming in contact with his front.

“Baby-” Matty placed a comforting hand on her left hip. His mind started to fogged, he needed to stay composed. This was about Y/n, not him.

“Fine.” Y/n spat, angry, moving from under Matty. “I’ll find someone…at least-” Y/n started to say when she finally was again on her feet.

Little she could let out before Matty took her by the arm, crushing his lips to hers. Y/n didn’t reciprocate at first, although her whole body woke up after a long slumber. Every single part of her was on fire, asking to be touched. To be touched by Matty, him and only him.

Matty grabbed her face with both of his hands, keeping her in place, letting Y/n go wasn’t an option now. No after so many years apart. Y/n kissed him back, holding her own self from his neck, feeling weak on the knees.

Matty noticed her body trying to sink down and held her by her waist. He noticed, because he always noticed every one of her needs.

Kissing Matty again was like coming home after a long trip, to your own house and the comfort of your stuff. Kissing Matty once again felt like returning home.

He broke the kiss to take some air. Y/n opened her eyes, looking up at him. He’s searching for any sign of doubt. Still with the pounding feeling of not taking advantage of Y/n.

“Are you sure about this, baby?” Matty spoke, low, brushing their lips together.

“Mhm.” Y/n confirm her desire, tightening her grip on his neck, meanwhile she approached her body to his.

“Words. I need words.” Matty persisted on.

Y/n arched her back, “Please, I can’t wait any longer.”

Matty looked at her eyes; his deepening by lust. “You don’t have to…” He finished it, gifting her a smile.

Y/n pushed him back down again, crushing their lips together once more. She remembered how addicting it could be kissing him. Matty explored every corner of her mouth like an expert explorer, he hadn't forgotten her weak spots. Y/n moaned without caring.

The sweet sound coming from her, made Matty push back and asked her in a hurry, “Your room or mine?”

“Yours.” Y/n sentenced.

************************************************************************************************

When Matty shut his bedroom door close, all the rush was gone. Y/n waited at the end of his bed, looking around. She hadn’t been there except from a few times. The bed was newer from the one he had back on his flat, and the decoration changed as well. Multiple guitars, a lot of pictures of Amelia and them adoring the walls. Even the mess of clothes wasn’t there, he was strangely more organized now, more mature Y/n supposed.

Matty’s arms rounding her took Y/n out of her scrutiny; he brushed her hair out of her neck, leaving kissing here and there. Nibbling on the exposed skin, bringing goosebumps into it. Matty smiled to himself. Y/n closed her eyes, placing her hands on top of his on her stomach. The memories of him caressing Y/n’s belly when she was pregnant came to her, every touch is full of their history.

Matty's hands sneak under her shirt, coming in touch with her bare skin. He pushed Y/n’s body back towards his body, making his clothes dick came in contact with her bum. Matty groaned on her neck. Y/n kept rocking her hips back, searching for friction.

“Can I take it off?” He asked slowly, tugging on the shirt.

“Yeah.” She said breathlessly.

Y/n turned around inside his embrace, Matty reached for the bottom of her t-shirt and pulled it up. Y/n couldn’t help to feel self-conscious in front of Matty without her top on, only in a black bra and her pyjama pants. Even though, he’s focusing on her face and nothing else. Matty still worried she didn’t want to go further. Y/n connected her eyes with his, smiling shy.

“Beautiful.” He stated, holding the left side of her neck.

“Stop-” Y/n blushed.

“Never. Come here.”

Matty pressed their chests against each other, savouring her mouth once more. Matty felt complete; having Y/n on her embrace was what he had been wishing for years. He noticed a little wave of panic, what if I’m not enough for her?

Although, Y/n was very pleased already by everything, even when she was merely touching the skin hiding under his shirt. Y/n’s touch reached first the hairy skin of his abdomen, and made a trail until she felt his back. He was bulkier now than she remembered, there were a lot of muscles to held onto now. Without her asking, Matty went to take off his t-shirt. Both of them longing for the skin to skin contact.

Once his chest was fully visible, Y/n detached her lips from Matty’s. Inspecting the expanse of it. She kneeled down, kissing the centre of his chest. Matty couldn’t help to reach for the back of her head, feeling like his dreams were coming true. Y/n diverted her attention to his nipples, feeling encouraged by the moans he was letting out.

She tried to kneel down all the way to her knees, starting to unbutton his trousers, but Matty tried to stop her, “Y/n.”

Y/n ignored his weak protest, going for his boxers, although Matty paused all of her actions; he brought her back up by her chin. “No.” He said, sternly.

“But I want-” Y/n whined.

“Later. Now it’s about you, darlin’.” Matty let Y/n know his intentions for the night.

Matty started to pull her trousers off, after she signal him to go on with it. Y/n wiggled out of them, and the self-consciousness came back running. She wasn’t expecting to end the night like this when she changed after the fatidic event. Her bra and undies were far from sexy or even matching.

“Sorry about this.” She tried to apologize.

Matty chuckled, brushing the embarrassment off, or trying to. “Don’t. I have the solution for that.” He said instead cheekily.

“What?”

“Here.”

In a few instants, Y/n was fully naked, standing in front of Matty. The singer feeling ecstatic with his simple work, resulting on having her entirely naked in front of his eyes. She was too aware –for her liking– about the changes that happened to her body between the last time they had sex and now years after the birth of their child. Her body showed the permanent marks of her pregnancy. Sometimes she felt okay with them, but other times –like that moment– she despised them.

Y/n went to shield her breasts, facing opposition from Matty, who took her arms sweetly. “Don’t-” He said, looking at her eyes only. “Can you lay down for me?” He said instead.

“Okay.” She agreed, moving from the end of the bed where they had been standing. Y/n felt his sight on her, watching every move. She tried not to think at the moment she fell back on the mattress, in the middle of it, resting her head against the pillows.

Matty got rid of his boxers slowly, but with decision. He watched Y/n leaned back awkwardly. What if she was regretting this?

“Do you want to stop?” He asked, without emotions.

Y/n looked at him worried, she didn’t want to stop. The idea of Matty not wanting to have sex with her would completely end up destroying her after the horrible day. “Do you?” She fought back.

Matty noticed her face turned into a sad expression. He clarified, “Hell no…but I’ll if-”

Y/n let the air she didn’t notice she was holding, begging for him to come closer, “Please, come here.” She lifted her hand up in the air.

Matty quickly obeyed her. Her wishes were truly his command. Specially during that night. He positioned himself, naked as the day he was born, on top of her. Without an exchange of words, Matty plopped down himself, kissing Y/n.

She rounded him once more, feeling the hardness of his dick on her belly. Y/n could feel her body responding to the contact.

Matty kissed all the way from her lips to the space connecting her face and neck. Y/n let the loudest whimper of the night when he sucked on there. She scratched his back, pushing him inevitably closer. Her nipples hard as sharp diamonds pressing on his chest.

“Fucking hell, you’re so hot, baby.” Matty told her, leaving a trail of smooth pecks until his mouth came in contact with her right boob. Sucking with intention, as if he was starved and she was his nourishment.

“Matty.” Y/n moaned at his acts, he remembered very well how sensitive were her nipples. How could he forget details about the love of his life?

“Yes, baby?”

“Please. I need you.”

“Where?”

“Please…” Y/n’s mind couldn’t come up with a better word, or even formulate a phrase.

“Where, sweet cheeks? Tell me…” He continued playing with her breasts, changing his focus to the left one. Matty let his right hand hold his weight, meantime his free hand held the fullness of her breasts.

“Ugh, Matty…” She breathed out. “Touch me…down. I need you.” Y/n’s words came out all messy, and mispronounced.

He returned to be face to face with her, while he let his hand get wet by his own saliva and returned –when he thought it what moisturized enough– to draw circles on her boob. “Can I eat you out, love? I’ve been missing your taste for ages.” Matty bluntly expressed.

Her walls closing around nothing, making her hips lift to meet his. “Please.” Y/n agreed. The thought of him making her come with only his mouth sounded like heaven.

“Greedy girl.” Matty called her out, drawing a path with his fingers from the underside of her breasts, stopping at the top of her mound. He paused to admire her get lost under his touch.

Before Y/n went to protest, Matty felt her slit from top to bottom with the digits of his fingers, slowly, testing her. “You are so wet.” It wasn’t a question, it was a fact. “All for me, baby?”

Y/n shake her head as a yes. She couldn’t keep her hips still, trying to make his fingers come in contact with her pulsing clit. “Stop teasing, Matty.” Y/n begged.

“Shush, you have to be patient, baby.” He knew very well the effect of his nicknames on her. “I’ve been waiting for this to happen again…”

“Really?”

“Yes, so many times…” He said, trusting one finger inside her slit, making of her a whimpering mess. She wanted to ask him more about it, but all of her thoughts went out of the window. Y/n took the sheet at both sides on her fists, arching her back trusting forwards, so Matty’s finger touches her soft spot.

“Fuck, Matty!” Y/n breath out.

“You’re so tight, baby. I need to prepare you for me.” His hot breath coming in contact with her entrance, making her entire body shiver.

“Please, more.”

“Another finger?”

“Yes.”

“That’s my girl, taking my fingers so well”

“Matty-”

“I know, I know…don’t come before I say it, okay?”

“I don’t know if I can…I’m going-”

Matty stopped all of a sudden. “What the-” but before Y/n could complete the sentences, his mouth was on her, his tongue trusting inside her hole, making her head spin. The knot in her belly growing, making her dizzy, sensing her release closer again.

Y/n came undone under Matty, merely seconds after he tasted her. He helped her surfed the orgasm, taking every drop of it.

Once she came back to reality, her sight fell on Matty’s smugly expression, still closer to her pussy.

“Good?” Matty asked, kissing her right thigh.

“So good, babe.” She let out, closing her eyes.

Matty went to kiss her, “Do you want to stop?” He asked once again. Y/n moaned, tasting herself on his mouth. She shook her head against the idea. Matty chuckled.

He looked at her enamoured, admiring her cheeks all blushed and her messy hair on his pillows. She was back, she was his again.

“What?” Y/n asked, without understanding his pause, his staring.

“Nothing.” He touched her slightly on her hip, drawing imaginary forms.

“Tell me..” She encouraged him.

“I missed you.” He admitted one more time, feeling pathetic as a teenager screaming ‘I love you’ to his first sex partner.

Y/n force him to look at her, keeping the eye contact, smiling wide. “I missed you so much.”

Matty scrunched his face, preventing himself to look completely warmed by her words. “Liar!”

“Excuse me?” She pushed his shoulder, protesting.

“You went out with a wanker…” He regretted bringing Paul between them at that moment.

Y/n didn’t take it, choosing to say, “Let’s not name the devil, please?”

“I’m not-”

“Besides, you fucked with pretty models-” She counter-attack, smiling wide. ‘Everything was okay, she was joking’, Matty reassured himself.

“Are you jealous, Y/l/n?” He asked, cheekily.

Y/n was quick to answer. “As much as you, Healy.”

“No one compares to you, Y/n.” His sight dancing around her eyes.

She threw her head back, whining in protest. “You can’t say that!”

In fact, her heart was growing a couple of sizes with every sweet word he was drooping.

“Why? It’s the truth!” Matty fought back, burring his face on her neck.

“Because- Nothing, not fair!”

“No, what?” Matty murmured, without leaving his position, crushing against her. Y/n let her hands roamed through his curls. How much she had missed doing it.

Y/n was against telling Matty how she was feeling, risking the moment to end. She chose to divert his attention.

“Are we going to fuck or…?”

Matty bursted into a fit of laughter, coming back to be face to face again. He could let her get out of that conversation for a little longer. Specially when his dick was hurtfully hard.

“Are you begging, darling?” Matty said, brushing his lips with Y/n’s. She parted her mouth open.

“I’ll make you beg.” She declared.

“A warning or a promise?”

“Both.”

Matty took her lips in a heated kiss, rocking his hips forward. Y/n felt bereaved enough to reached for his dick, stroking him slowly.

“Fuck, baby.” Matty moaned on her mouth.

“You like that?”

“Aha-” He confirmed, losing his senses under her attentions.

“Words, babe.” Y/n teased him back.

“Please-” Matty begged, trusting into her hand without control.

“I’m not on the pill, Matty.” Y/n tried to inform him.

Matty snapped out, taking her words into account. “Okay, let me get a condom really quick.”

“Okay.”

Y/n watched him moved around his room. Opening drawers, bags and lastly his wallet finding one. She crooked an eyebrow, wondering in silence.

Matty acknowledge her silent question. “It’s not like I’ve had sex in the last few months…” he said without looking at Y/n, feeling a little embarrassed, while he put the condom on.

“Sure… Or you used all of them…” Y/n felt light and happy, between passion and happiness.

Matty shook his head. “Stop it-”

“Nah, I like messing with you…” She let him know.

“Yeah, I can see.”

Matty returned to be on top of Y/n, she rounded him with her legs as a way to let Matty know she was more than ready. Matty went to obey her but stopped, kissing her sweetly. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, please, Matty.” She was starting to get desperate without him inside.

“If it’s too much-”

“Matty!”

“Fuck- Sorry, I’m a tad nervous…” Matty admitted for himself first, and for her too.

“Really?”

“Mhm…”

Y/n felt her chest get warm with his demeanour. Not many people knew how sensitive and fragile can Matty be in moments of intimacy. Y/n felt special when he communicated his emotions.

“Come here.” Y/n instructed him, resting her forehead on his and placing her arms –as well as her legs– around his body. “I want you. I want to feel you inside me…again.” She reassured Matty, holding the eye contact. Matty nodded with his head.

He sank down without second thoughts. “Fucking hell!” Matty groaned while her walls took him in.

“Matty!”

“Y/n…”

Matty threw his head back, detaching his chest centimetres away from Y/n. She couldn’t help to admire –through half open eyes– his face turning by the pleasure. He was so pretty.

Matty whipped his head forward, cheeking on Y/n. “Are you okay? Tell me when I can move, baby. There’s no rush…” He reassured her, even when his words came all over together.

Y/n nodded as best as she could in her position, getting used to him. Matty studied her breath deeply, having some difficulty to adapt to his dick.

After a few minutes, she signalled for him. “Matt-”

He didn’t wait for her verbal command. Matty trusted forward, and retracted all the way out. The tip of his cook coming to tease her clit. Y/n bit down on her lower lip hard. Matty wasn’t going to have it, he wanted to hear all of her sweet sounds.

“Don’t hold it back, Y/n. I want to hear you.” He stated, releasing her lip with his finger.

Matty’s dick disappeared inside Y/n’s pussy under his watchful eyes. They fall quickly into a rhythm that worked for both of them.

Shortly after, Y/n felt incredible close to the edge. “Matty, I’m going to-”

“I know, baby. Let it go for me” He allowed her. “You’re doing so well for me…taking me so, so well…” His words stumbled, while his trusts got rapid and sloppy.

Y/n moaned, scratching his back, chasing the sweet twisted feeling inside her lower stomach. Even with her eyes close, everything went black when her orgasm finally hit her fully.

Matty felt Y/n’s pussy clench around him fastening his movements until he was coming as well, screaming without caring, “Y/n!”

He kept it going until their bodies relaxed again, letting his entire weight fall on top of Y/n. She welcomed him happily.

****************************************************************

“Matt…” Y/n spoke after a few minutes.

Matty shivered on top of her, burring his face further into Y/n’s neck. “Mhm…”

“I need you to pull out.” Y/n let a nervous chuckled out.

“Don’t wanna.”

“Well, I see…but I need to use the bathroom, baby.” She insisted.

“Fine.”

Matty pulled out and moved to the side, letting her move freely. He wasn’t happy to let Y/n go so soon, even though he understood her request.

Y/n left a kiss on the top of his head, before going to the bathroom. Leaving Matty alone with his thoughts.

Matty was thorned between the euphoric feeling of his orgasm, his feelings, and the memory of Y/n crying on the couch when he came home after an exhausting day in the studio. He tried not to think about Prince Charming and his wishes to put him in his place. Instead, he let his right arm serve as a pillow for his head while he admired the ceiling.

Y/n and him had sex again. Y/n and him together. Those were the thoughts he chose to dive into. His hands ache for her skin, he wanted her close again. Matty tried to calm himself, Y/n was only meters away, and she was coming back. Y/n was coming back to his room, to him.

The idea only threatened when Y/n walk back inside the room and started to pick up her clothes that adored the floor of Matty’s room.

“Are you leaving?” Matty desperately asked.

Y/n stood in the middle of Matty’s room, with half of her clothes, looking at him. “Shouldn’t I?”

“If you’re going to your room…I’m going there too-” Matty let her know, standing up from his side of the bed, getting the sheets out of the way dramatically.

“Cute.” Y/n laughed at his actions.

Matty, frozen beside the bed, exclaimed, “Please…” Offering his hand to Y/n.

“Look who’s begging now.” Y/n said amused.

She didn’t take his hand, roaming around the other side of the bed. Y/n stared at his eyes, with the place where they had sex minutes ago in the middle, almost challenging Matty. She broke the eye contact to get under Matty’s sheet with grace. He couldn’t only admire.

Y/n pat on his side a few times, instructing him to get in. Matty followed shortly after, gaining a few laughs from her.

“Fuck, I’m not lying when I say I missed this…” Matty let her know, after her head fall into his chest.

The amount of times he thought about Y/n doing it again or the occasions she did years ago crossed his mind, and now were happening. He kissed her head repeatedly as a silent thanks.

“Fucking or cuddling?” Y/n bantered.

“Both?”

“Mhm.”

“Are you feeling better?” Matty asked, still worried about Y/n’s feelings.

She looked up towards his face. “So much better…thank you, Matty!”

“My pleasure.” He winked suggestively.

Y/n protested hitting him as a joke on his shoulder.

Matty let his arms rounded her, swallowing her in a big hug that lulled them to a deep sleep.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day.

Matty woke up very early after a heated night. They woke each other up a few times in the middle of the night, not being able to be fully satisfied. So, he decided to let Y/n sleep for a bit longer until he had breakfast ready for her.

The singer was in the middle of meal prepping when the doorbell rang. He swore under his breath, he was hopping Y/n didn’t hear it and woke up. Matty ran as fast as he could towards the front door, opening it with all his force.

“Fuck no, go away, mate.” He spat when his eyes fell on the man at the other side.

“I want to talk with Y/n, not you.” Paul tried to stay calm.

Matty let a belly laugh out. “Well, she does not want to see you or speak to you.” He uttered his reasons to deny Paul the entrance to his house.

Matty went to close the door, even though Paul was quick and put his foot to prevent that. The lead man moved the wooden door agape once more.

“She can tell me that…what are you trying to do? Pretend to be the nice guy? You’re the asshole fucking around and leaving her alone-” Paul provoked Matty.

Matty tried with all his strength to not engaged on Paul’s game. He wanted to return to Y/n, that was kept him motivated against taking further actions. “I’m going to destroy your prince charming face if you don’t go the fuck away.” He threatened him.

“Such a man, ha? You can’t keep her, but you don’t want anyone to have her..” Paul was good at this, Matty bit his tongue.

“You’re pushing your chances, Paul. Leave my house!”

“It’s Y/n’s house as well.” Paul replied smugly. “I want to see her.” The man demanded.

“You would’ve thought about it when you were fucking another chick.” Matty exposed Paul’s actions, which took the aforementioned by surprise.

“She told you?”

Matty wasn’t going to exchange more words with Paul. “Go…away.”

“No.”

He felt his fuse run out, decided this time to punch Paul once and for all. “Fine, you asked for it.” Matty tried to move forward, but a hand on his arm coming from behind prevent him from fulfil his wishes.

Y/n stood beside Matty, looking without believing who was in front of them.

“Paul?”

“Hi, darlin’.” He said, like nothing had happened the night before.

“He was leaving.” Matty touched Y/n’s hand as a reassurance, as a way to tell her he was there.

Paul looked at their hands intertwined. “No, I want to talk with you.” Paul kept pushing.

“I told him you don’t want that-”

“Matty, please go inside. I’ll be there in a minute.” Y/n looked him in the eyes, squeezing his hand.

“Baby-” Matty protested, titling his head.

“I’ll be short, okay?”

Something inside her eyes communicated to him that she can manage with the douchebag. “Fine. Shout if you need me.” Matty finally gave in; looking at Paul, who looked back with a big winning smile.

“I will.” Y/n simply kissed his cheek, and let him returned inside.

Y/n waited for Paul to start talking, in reality she has nothing else to say. She didn’t understand how he had the face to appear on her house.

Paul went straight to the part that hurt his ego the most. “You told Matty about last night, Y/n?”

“I’m going to be brief, Paul.” She cut his speech. “I don’t have anything more to say apart from what I told you last night…in that bathroom. You left me alone for- I don’t even know for how long-”

“I’m sorry, Y/n. It’s all a misunderstanding.” He pulled a face as a cute, innocent puppy. She was not buying his facade any more. Paul showed his true colours the night before.

“What about Meredith? It’s a misunderstanding having your dick shoved down her, huh?” Y/n spat roughly. “Don’t take me for a fool, Paul.”

“Meredith? She wasn’t- The girl was…her name was-” He genuinely asked, making Y/n laugh sarcastically. He was truly an arsehole.

“Fucking hell, you don’t remember the names of the girls you shag.” Y/n stated.

Paul couldn’t fight against her accusations. “Y/n-”

“No, I don’t want to hear anything. I don’t care. You lost your chance.”

“So, what? You’re going back to the arsehole now?” Paul mentioned Matty with anger.

“That’s not your business, Paul. But for your information, that arsehole help me bring our daughter to this world and held me through the most horrible moments since I know him. Included last night. You don’t know him, you don’t know me, us…so stop talking shit! Bye, Paul.” Y/n stated her case and turned around without giving Paul time to react.

Y/n closed the door. Keeping her eyes shut, resting her forehead on the door, until she heard the scratching sound of his car wheels announcing Paul’s depart. Y/n turned around on her spot, adamant to walk towards the kitchen but stopped dead on her tracks. Matty was staring at her with a big smile.

“You think that highly of me?” He asked her, which made her rolled her eyes. “Y/n?” Matty tried again, smiling at her.

“Maybe…” Y/n blushed visibly.

“Oh, you do!” He affirmed, catching her when she tried to pass by him. “You’re so cute!” He kissed her all around her cute blushing face.

Y/n felt the embarrassment all over her body. “Stop it.” She demanded, still inside Matty’s embrace.

“You defended my honour…” He chanted too content.

Y/n looked up at him, crooking her eyebrow, “I don’t think he was a real threat to your honour, Matty.”

“No, but still.”

“Can we go and make breakfast, please?” Y/n tried to end the conversation, finally going to the kitchen.

Matty trailed behind her, saying, “Yes, my swordsman-Sorry, woman.”

“Idiot.” She faked to be annoyed.

“Are you okay?” Matty asked all of a sudden, returning to a more serious tone.

Y/n brushed him off, inspecting what Matty cooked for breakfast. “Yes, he’s an arsehole.” Y/n exclaimed.

“He definitely is. You deserve so much better.” The singer rounded her waist lovingly from behind.

“I don’t know…” Y/n couldn’t help to blush again. “Okay, breakfast, I’m starving!”

“Long night, huh?” Y/n laughed out loud at Matty’s seductive tone.

It was time for them to enjoy –finally– the morning together before Amelia returned home. —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few hours later…

An old episode of Brooklyn 99 was playing in the background, they paid attention to it from time to time when they weren’t making out on the couch. Jake was interviewing a victim, making her choose between suspects making them sing.

Matty’s left arm was around her shoulders. He threw his head back, screaming –not singing– the lyrics of the Backstreet Boys’ song. Making Y/n laughed loud. They were waiting for Grace to drop Amelia back home.

After the scene finished, Grace came through the living room door holding her goddaughter. The little girl wiggled out of her embrace when she saw her parents. They screamed and cheered for her, making space between their bodies.

“Hi, mel-mel!”

“Did you have fun with Grace?”

Matty and Y/n spoke at the same time, Amelia felt good with all the attention of her parents on her. The little girl moved her focus from one to the other. Exclaiming, a cheerful, “Yes!”

They cheered back. Grace looked at them sceptical, trying to understand what was going on. The fresh memory of Y/n’s state last night was a big contrast with this happy girl sitting on the couch. Grace wanted only the best for her, even though she couldn’t connect the both versions -the day before, and the one in front of her.

Grace opened her mouth to ask, but doing that implied breaking the happy bubble. A bubble that included Amelia. She wasn’t mean. So, she waited.

“How was she?” Y/n asked her best friend.

Y/n couldn’t help to feel a bit guilty about leaving Grace to take care of her daughter, even when she well knew it was for the girl’s and her own good.

Grace stared at her for a second. “Good, good…we ate dinosaur nuggets and chips, we saw Mulan…again. And then she slept like an angel, she’s truly the best.” She explained to Amelia’s parents, forgetting her doubts for a moment, just focusing on the little girl who smiled wide at her from the couch.

“Thanks for that, Grace.” Matty told her.

“It’s nothing…” Grace felt like a cat, paranoid, waiting for the moment to jump. “I love to help Y/n and spend time with Amelia”

Matty looked at Y/n, keeping his eyes on her, while Grace watched his point of attention. Weird, she thought. Y/n turned to look back at him, smiling when she noticed his eyes on her. Very peculiar, Grace sentenced inside her head.

“So, what did you do last night?” Grace interrupted their moment.

Y/n felt a hot feeling creeping from her chest towards her neck. Matty held a laughter and proceed to make an offer, “Do you want tea?” He asked suggestively, still looking at Y/n.

“Shut it.” Y/n tried to stop him.

“What?” Grace felt like she didn’t get the joke.

“I’m going to leave you ladies alone” Matty stated, kissing Amelia’s cheek and proceed to do the same with Y/n. “Bye, Grace!” He wiggled his eyebrows, moving from the couch.

“Daddy!” Amelia called for him.

“Yes, my dove?” He turned around.

“Daddy, daddy-” She slid from the couch, approaching his legs running.

“You want to come with me?” Matty asked down to her. Amelia said yes. “Okay, we’re going to start your training to be the biggest rock star…”

“Over my body, Healy.” Y/n joked.

“Nice name for her first song.” Matty winked at her, taking Amelia’s hand and leaving the room.

Y/n turned to gaze at Grace, who was still seated a few meters from the couch, on a puff couch, analysing her friend.

“Yes, Grace?”

“What the fuck?” Grace screamed without being able to hold it.

Y/n tried to play it cool. She knew she was going to tell her all the truth, but Y/n feared her best friend reaction. “What do you mean?”

“No!” She stood up. “You can’t play that card with me!”

“Which-”

“The dumb one. I repeat Y/n, what the actual fuck?”

“Grace-”

“No, nothing of ‘Grace’” She quoted on the air. “I took Amelia to my flat because you were a fucking mess-”

Y/n patently agreed with Grace. “Yes.”

“And now, I came back to this different you…” She continued explaining her point of view, moving her hands around Y/n’s form. “Cuddling Matty on the couch, laughing with Amelia…”

“Aha…”

Grace stared at Y/n. “So, explain, please!” She screamed again.

Y/n breath in deeply. That was the moment to tell her everything. “Are you done?” Grace shook her head as a signal for her to continue. “I’ve slept with Matty.” Y/n finally admitted.

Grace moved messily from the puff couch.“I’m leaving-” She in fact moved towards the living room door.

Y/n stopped her. “Grace!” Couldn’t help to laugh about her antics.

“You what?” Grace turned around asking.

“And Paul came this morning trying to apologize…” Y/n felt a rather strange calm washing over her.

“Did he? He dared to face you…in your house?” Grace wasn’t expecting this amount of information when she asked.

“Yes, Matty tried to make him go away…I heard, and then I told him my final thoughts, asked him to leave, closed the door on his face”

“Oh my god!” Grace screamed. “But, but- How did you go from crying to fucking your ex?” Grace rounded back to the main information.

Y/n shrugged her shoulders, smiling content, “It just happened, Grace.”

“But- what about…everything?” Grace was desperate to understand.

“I don’t know. I haven't thought about it…yet. I’m just enjoying it from the time being.”

“What if everything goes wrong?”

“I don’t know, Grace. I just know that I felt bad and Matty helped with it.” Y/n admitted.

Grace scoffed. “Yeah, I get that.”

Y/n laughed. “He was really sweet. He tried to stop it, but I insisted-”

“Whore!”

“Hey!”

“And?”

“What?”

“How was he?” Grace inquired her.

“So good…excellent…I-” Y/n threw her head back, remembering her orgasms.

“Are you delusional or is he that good?”

“He’s good, Grace.” Y/n kept her voice low, scared that Matty appear and hear her say it.

“Why I asked? I don’t want to know!” Grace shield her ears, crushing her body on the couch beside Y/n.

Y/n chuckled. “He said he missed me…”

“He’s good with words!”

“He sounded sincere.” Y/n stated. She had been thinking about it on and off during the entire day. Matty’s words and actions matched.

“I bet.” Grace was getting cynical.

“Don’t be an ass.” Y/n tried to warn her friend because she got pissed.

“Fine, fine. I’m just worried.” Grace admitted.

“I’m okay, Grace.”

“Yes, now but what if…”

“We’ll see.”

“So, how this continues…are you guys back?” Y/n shrugged her shoulders. “Are you just fucking around?”

“I don’t know…we can just call Matty back and…” Y/n started to get up, playfully suggesting it.

“Please, no…god!” Grace took her hand, bringing her close again.

“I really don’t have the answers.” Y/n shared with Grace. She didn’t and it was alright for now. All happened the day before, the night before, it was too soon to know yet.

“Aren’t you scared? After last night…”

“Matty is not Paul. I know Matty, I really know him…” Y/n was very sure of her words.

“Exactly, Y/n.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know his doings-”

“Don’t start with that. The time we saw each other -before having Amelia- he never.” Because Matty and her were in fact faithful to the other, even when they weren’t a formal couple.

“I just want you to be happy.” Grace said, exposing her wishes.

“I’m really content now…” Y/n tried to reassure her friend. It was cute from Grace to concerned about her.

“Yeah, I’d be too after a good round of orgasms!” Grace mocked Y/n.

“Grace!”

“You can’t deny it…”

Y/n laughed. “No, I can’t”

“Oh my god!” Grace hide her face behind her hands.

“Stop acting like a child!” Y/n accused her.

“Disgusting.”

“Idiot.”

“I guess- I want you and Amelia to be okay…” Grace stated, looking at the palm of her hands.

“I know, I appreciated that.” Y/n took one of Grace’s hands on hers.

“I still haven’t had the chance to talk with my own cousin…and I don’t plan to be nice. If the rat does something to you two-” Grace felt the temperature of her body raise.

“You’ll be here to support us, nothing more.”

“Yes, but I also will kick-”

“Nothing.”

“Okay, fine. Promise me to be careful!” Grace pleaded.

“When I wasn’t?”

“Don’t get me started on that…”

“Shut up.”

Grace decided to let the topic of Matty and Y/n go for now, she was still interested to know about his idiotic relative.

“Go back to the ding-dong of my cousin coming to apologize, please!”

Y/n continued to tell her the story without leaving details out.

✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻

One month after, at the studio.

“Play it back” Matty instructed George to press play to the track they had been working on.

George – without turning his attention from the computer– obeyed Matty’s order. The frontman turned around, looking at Ross swing Amelia from side to side. Her daughter was a big distraction during one of the busiest days for them, but Matty didn’t really care. Amelia could mess all the process and he would smile.

Y/n had some errants to run through and asked Matty to take her with him, which he agreed happily. All the boys cheered for Amelia when they entered the studio.

Matty looked at his phone once more, checking the hour and his messages. Nothing from Y/n. He felt like his young self waiting for his crush to answer. She promised to drop by and spend some time at the studio with them after she finished with everything. Matty was waiting –impatiently– for her arrival.

Ross let his hair fall, hiding his face and falling all over Amelia’s little one. The girl laughed at Matty’s friend antics.

“You’re not paying attention….” George scolded him from his chair, still not looking at Matty.

“I am, I am..”

“Yeah, sure.” Gorge sarcastically said.

Matty rolled his eyes to the back of his head. “I’m paying attention, George.”

“So, tell me what you think about the change I just did…” He challenged the frontman.

Matty opened his eyes wide, looking up at George. They got themselves inside an eye battle. Matty looked down, defeated.

“Fuck-” He mumbled.

“Right.” George smugly said.

“Keep it…and play it back.”

When George let his digits direct the mouse around the complicated program in front of his eyes, Adam and Y/n made their appearance thought the studio door.

“Look how I found at the front door…” Adam said, suggestively, distracting the rest of his band and the little girl.

“Hey!” Matty cheered up, standing to come closer.

He knew he couldn’t kiss Y/n there, with his child and bandmates around. Y/n and Matty agreed to not tell anyone about this new state of theirs relationship. Just trying to keep Amelia’s sanity as the top priority.

The drummer groaned loud, clearly annoyed. “This is getting impossible.” He muttered.

“I can’t leave if you want, G.” Y/n offered him, signalling with her hand the door behind her.

“No, it’s not you, Y/n/n.” George let her know, scratching his eyes. He loved to have Amelia and Y/n around, he considered both of them part of the ‘the 1975 family’; although, he wanted to finish this song. They had a tight schedule for those few weeks before the big show. “Hi…” G saluted her, engulfing Y/n in a big hug.

“He’s stressing you?” Y/n questioned George barely loud, even when she knew everyone around could hear. She liked to tease Matty with his bandmates, it was a way to bond with them. A harmless way.

“Yes!” George protested.

Matty complained, joining the joke, “Oi!”

“He has his head else where…” George let her go, wiggling his eyebrows, “I’m going to take a piss.” G informed the room.

Y/n moved to the side, letting George exit the room. Y/n’s attention fall in Amelia playing with Ross and Adam. The cutest sight her eyes witnessed that day. She felt another pair of eyes looking at her. Y/n blushed, returning Matty’s look of fondness.

She allowed herself to lift her arm –without the guys noticing– to press quickly Matty’s hand; he returned the gesture.

“Hi, baby.” Matty whispered, kissing her cheek.

“Y/n, watch out…a bug is sucking your face!” Adam teased Matty. Knowing that Adam had his attention on them made the couple step a few feet apart.

Matty went to continue the bickering, “You are…?”

Y/n swiftly cut them, acknowledging the last member of the band she hadn’t had the chance to say hello to. “Hi, Ross!”

“Hello! Look who’s here, Ames!” The cute man lift Amelia on his lap, making her dance holding both of Ross’s hands. She cackled happy, which was contagious to everyone around.

“Hi, baby.” Y/n went to hold Amelia.

“Mommy!”

“Are you distracting all this fine boys?” Y/n dare to look around, at the same time George returned from his break.

“Yes!” Amelia answered without fully understanding the question. The whole band joined into a group laugh. The little girl wiggled out of her embrace, returning to be close to Ross.

Y/n’s sight fall on the computer, showing complicated patters. She felt guilty for distracting them and weighed the idea of bringing Amelia home. “I think we better get home…” She said out loud.

“No!” Matty protested. “Stay a little bit…you promised!” He insisted, making puppy eyes.

Adam supported the idea. “Yeah, stay, Y/n…we barely see you now days. Does this one…” He lifted his hand, pointing at Matty’s face. “...have you trapped in a big tower or what?”

“Piss off, Hann.” Matty shot back.

Y/n chew her lower lip, anxiously. “Are you sure? I don’t want to delay you-”

“Believe me, Y/n. We need you here.” Ross said sweetly. It was probably the biggest lie, because she wasn’t going to help with any of the production, but he was too nice to say the contrary.

“See?” Matty said to her.

“Come on, I’ll tell you all the surprises for the show…” Adam offered.

That piqued her interest. Matty hadn’t told her anything. “Will you?”

“Course not!” The frontman protested against.

Adam smiled. “Off course…yes, only for you, Y/n!” He let her know, only to mess with Matty.

“You’re going to spoil it for her…” Matty continued with his objection.

Y/n looked at Matty, sternly. “I mean- You haven’t invited me…” Y/n folded her arms.

“I did!” Matty exclaimed, not overly convinced.

He remembered talking about the show and all the hard work for it. Maybe he took for granted that she was going to be there. Matty feared the opposite, most of the surprises and new bits were thinking about Y/n’s likings.

“You did not, Healy!” Y/n stated.

“I think I did…but, anyway- Will you come to show, Y/n?”

Y/n stayed in silence for an instance, playing with his patience. “I have to see if I can manage to squeeze it on my agenda-” She finally said, winking at Adam.

“Y/n…” Matty warned her.

“Since you notified me on such a short notice…. I’ll think about it!” Y/n explained as if it was the reasonable response.

“I don’t like you.” Matty told her, returning to sit beside George. Giving her his back, which made Y/n laugh. Amelia did the same when she got angry.

“I really like her…” George spoke, still on his designated place in front of the big screen.

“Same!” Ross and Adam shout from the couch in unison.

“Oh my god!” Matty breathed out, Y/n laugh softly, massaging his shoulders sweetly.

*******************************************************************************

((Kitchen area))

“Fancy seeing you here…” Matty pestered Y/n, coming from behind her, rounding her form with his arms.

Y/n took a break from the madness of the studio after hours of hearing them bicker about the song. She excused herself, even though no one heard her. Matty noticed, instantly screaming he needed a bathroom break. He followed her like a lost puppy.

Since the new situation between them started, he grew enormously attached to her. He wanted to be on her presence almost every time. Matty was still scared she would come asking to be friends again. He tried to keep the thought buried.

“Matty, someone might see us.” Y/n protested, leaving the glass of water on the counter.

Matty didn’t care at the moment. He selfishly wanted her. “Mhm.” He breathed in her perfume, hiding his face on the back of her neck.

Y/n caressed his hands, trying to sound collected. “I’m serious.”

“I just need a kiss…” He sweetly asked for it, she chuckled. Sometimes he unarmed her with simple words or requests.

She turned around on his embrace, feeling at ease with him. Y/n let her hands go to his head. It was addictive to run his hands through the mope of curls he had on the top of it. So alike as Amelia’s, still different.

Matty moaned way too loud for being still at the studio.

“Shh!” Y/n shut him up.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, bringing his face closer to hers.

Brushing their lips together, feeling a strange force bringing her into his body, Y/n whispered, “We shouldn’t-”

“We definitely should.” Matty stated, pecking her lips shortly. “Couldn’t wait till we get home… I need you.” He said, biting her lower lip softly tugging it from its place. It was Y/n’s turn to moan.

Y/n didn’t wait anymore, bringing him closer by his head, kissing Matty. Her body pulsing, screaming for him to do more, to touch her more, where she needed him. “Matty-” She said on his lips.

“Tell me, baby.” He replied, sneaking his hands under her clothes.

“Please-” She groaned when his hands stopped under her bra.

Matty smiled, full of himself, enjoying having an effect on her. “What do you need, Y/n?”

“Touch me.” She begged.

Matty cheekily uttered, “I am touching you.”

“No-”

“No?”

“Under…”

“So needy and perfect…” Matty went to suck on her beck, while his hands found the fullness of his breasts.

“Yeah, yeah!”

Matty’s hands grew impatient. He wanted to feel her completely. With the idea imprinted on his head, one of his hands started the path towards her jeans. He unbuttoned them without a protest from Y/n, the opposite in fact.

When his hand come in contact with her clothed cunt, he could feel the material all wet and ruined by her arousal. “You’re so wet, baby…who got you this worked up?” Matty asked, kissing her cheek. Y/n couldn’t answer, too lost. “Who, Y/n?” He insisted, he needed to hear her say it.

“You, you…Matty, please-”

He continued, tracing the clothed path of her panties. Pressing on her clit not enough for Y/n’s liking, she needed more.

“Do you like watching me work?” He teased her. Matty caught Y/n’s sight focused on his fingers when George asked him to show what he was pointing out on his guitar.

“Aha-”

“Please tell me more, baby.” Matty supplicated now.

“Matty!” She screamed on his shoulder, feeling her insides burn. “The way you were touching that- damn…red guitar-” Y/n admitted for him.

“So naughty, with the rest of the band here-” He made sounds with his mouth, showing some sort of disappointment he wasn’t feeling. Matty felt incredible without knowing she wanted him as much as he wanted her. All the time.

“I know…please, please, Matty.” Y/n was getting closer with only him touching her clit.

Matty was painfully hard inside his trousers, but he wanted Y/n to come before thinking about him.“You make the prettiest sounds, baby.” Matty admitted.

“Matty, where the fuck are you?” George started to shout from the other side of the closed kitchen door.

“Agh!” Matty groaned, taking his hand off Y/n’s body. “He’s the biggest cock block.” He spat.

“It’s okay. I should go…” Y/n said, trying to make herself presentable again.

Matty didn’t let her go. “It’s not” He pecked her neck. “I want you here.”

“I’ll be waiting at home…”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

“Matthew!” Now George and Adam started to scream from somewhere around the studio, close, way too close to the kitchen.

“I swear…they’re worse than Denise.” Matty rearranged her trousers to hide his hard on.

“Come on.” Y/n tried to push him off.

Matty wasn’t having it. At least, he needed a few more kiss before having to face more hours without her presence.

“Kiss me.” He deadpanned said.

“Last one.” Y/n declared, going for it.

After a few more smooches, they brook apart reluctantly, even though they had to part ways because the steps coming from outside were getting closer and closer.

The door flown opened, showing an agitated George. “Here yo- Oh!” He stopped his reprimand for Matty when he saw Y/n standing there too.

“I’m going to get Amelia.” Y/n said, leaving after touching Matty’s arm and sending George’s way a shy smile.

George kept his silence, looking at Matty blush visibly. G was ready to take the piss of Matty.

“Oh?!” He inquired Matt, still holding the handle of the door, pointing the way from Y/n left and his best friend simultaneously.

“Hold it!” Matty stopped him, passing by, exciting the room.

George followed him. “Okay!” He lifted his arms as a surrender.

“Don’t want to hear a-” Matty warned G.

“Fine.”

They continued the walking back to the studio. Matty felt incredible uncomfortable, meanwhile George was having the most fun of the situation, even when he didn’t know anything about it. He laughed during the entire short walk back.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Home sweet home.

Matty shut the door closed after his arrival. The house was in complete silence. He tried not to make a single sound, scared to wake Amelia or Y/n. He hopped the mother of her child was waiting for him, although it was unbelievable late, so he would understand.

The lead singer climbed the stairs towards his room. At the top of the steps, his sight fell inevitable on Y/n’s room door. It was closed and there wasn’t light coming from underneath. His heart sank down into his stomach.

Since the night Y/n spend on his room she hadn’t returned to her own for none a single night. She spent it with him, inside his bed. And the fact that her room door was shut was strange because since no one sleep there, she left it open. There was no reason to close it, she chose to leave it opened.

Matty couldn’t build the strength to open it just to check. ‘Was she mad with me about something? Did I do something to upset Y/n?’, Matty couldn’t recall anything.

Defeated, with the idea of her not wanting to sleep intertwined with him, he made his way to his room. Stopping in the middle to kiss Amelia goodnight.

Matty opened the door of his room, not paying attention around him. It wasn’t until he clicked the light from his bedside table on that he noticed Y/n’s form under his comforter.

He sighted relived, at the same moment, Y/n turned around to look at him. “Hello.” He whispered.

She wasn’t happy with the disturbance. Y/n turned around, mumbling, “Hi.”

Matty got rid of his clothes, just leaving his boxers on. He swiftly got into bed, pressing his front on Y/n’s back, spooning her.

“Thought you went back to your room…” He communicated to her, rounding Y/n’s body tight, as if he was scared she was going to disappear.

“Feeling needy, Healy?”

“Yes, got scared for a hot second…”

“I’m here, babe.” She tried to calm him down, drawing circles on his wrist resting on top of her belly.

“Which makes me incredibly happy.”

“Soppy.” She teased him.

“Only for you, baby.” Matty let his nose moved behind her ear, showing his affection.

“Lucky me.” Y/n stated with her sleepy voice.

“Mhm.”

Y/n let her hand reach back, towards his curls. “You need to sleep.” She caressed them as best as she can while in that position.

“Are you staying right?” Matty scared asked, kissing her lifted arm.

“Yes, Matty. I’m not going anywhere.” Y/n comforted him, getting annoyed.

“Good.”

“Come on, big baby.” Y/n turned around, letting him cuddle with his head on her chest.

Matty tried to protest against her accusations. “I’m not-”

“Whatever.”

Matty pushed his cheek into the soft pillow her boobs were for his head. He felt how his body relaxed again.

“Y/n…?”

“Mhm?”

“Are you…you and Amelia…are you coming to the first show, right?”

“If you want us there, we will, Matty.” Y/n said with the last bit of strength she had.

“I want you there.”

“Okay.”

“Just sleep, Healy.” Y/n ended the conversation as sleep took over her.

Matty stayed awake for a few more minutes, enjoying holding Y/n for the time being. He felt a wave of emotions hitting him hard. Matty almost wanted to cry because of it. He held it back, instead whispering above her heart, “I love you.”

Scared, after saying it, he waited for Y/n to wake up and storm out. She didn’t move a muscle, her breath even from sleep. Matty breathed deeply.

One day he would be able to tell her; he fell asleep repeating it like a mantra.

#matty the 1975 #matty 1975 #matty healy smut #matty healy fic #matty healy fanfic #matty healy imagine #matty healy x reader #matty healy x y/n #matty healy x you #matty healy #matty healy!dad #george daniel #ross macdonald #adam hann #all i need #all i need fic #matty healy fanfiction

287 notes · View notes