#dra fluff

[kobairaz]

very normal about them.

[teruyakisser]

Could make a DRA Teruya, Satsuki and Kanata with a small and energetic reader??

Teruya (DRA), Satsuki, and Kanata with a small and energetic s/o💚🩷🩵🤎

Warnings: UGEHEGEGEHEGEG IDK

Gender: Neutral

ᰔᩚ Teruya Otori ᰔᩚ

2 cuties interacting with each other. But you rival him in having so much energy that he cannot keep up with you.

He is definitely surprised on how you can keep your composure even though you're in a killing game.

Your positive nature is what helped him stay calm and more at ease with you around. Bonus points if you're smaller than him or the same height.

(He's 5'2). I can see him not being too keen on physical affection but he likes holding you in his arms whenever he's feeling stressed out or scared.

Cuddling with him is the best! But you both usually cuddle in your room because his room is kinda messy with a lot of products and other stuff he made on the floor.

He's a complete sucker for head pats and you squishing his cheeks. You find it cute how his face is always red.💚💚💚💚💚

ᰔᩚ Satuski Iranami ᰔᩚ

Ooooooo! You both are going to be one chaotic duo considering how you're both energetic. It's always nice to meet someone who shares the same energy level as you!

Oh my god, you both will be up for hours and hours doing a lot of fun things together that you both will completely forget that you're in a killing game.

Satsuki loves that you're a great listener whenever she talks about her seventh brother or her talent. Knowing that someone is willing to listen to her ramble on about stuff for hours makes her heart skip a beat!❤️ She'll even listen to you ranting about stuff as well!

Please watch her during one of her circus practices. It'll make her explode with excitement and joy. She feels way more confident in practicing her clown acts when she knows someone who cares about her is going to cheer her on the whole way.

Eeeeeee you both are such a perfect match for each other!!🩵🩷🩵🩷🩵

ᰔᩚ Kanata Inori ᰔᩚ

She can't keep up with your level either, but she completely admires your energetic nature. I feel like she loves it whenever people are full of life and determined.

She's 4'6. Unless you're smaller than her (I'll be surprised if you are), you might tease her a little bit about her height to which she responds by giving you a pouty look.

But she'll also have to be the one to keep you from getting yourself hurt while you're having fun. She just worries about you being a little too reckless :(

If you manage to get her to try something chaotic with you, that must be an achievement that you should feel proud of. But be ready to be scolded by her if something bad goes wrong and one of you gets hurt :')

She'll forgive you after some affection of course.🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎

[anisespice]

It’s always been known as the Dragon’s Keep.

A stone-walled prison guarded by a ferocious, fire-breathing monster with an insatiable appetite for death and destruction, a keeper of all things valuable. Stories were spread far and wide about the greedy creatures, terrorizing lands and snatching princesses right from their homes. In the keep, she will remain trapped in the highest room of its tallest tower, no means of escape for she was now a part of the never-ending collection.

That is until the arrival of her prince, her knight in shining armor, who’d slay the beast with a courageous thrust of his mighty sword, piercing through its heart in exchange for another. She’d be rescued from an eternity of loneliness, riding off into the sunset with her true love—A happily ever after. The End.

Fairytales. Propaganda, more like.

Even when he was just a wee hatchling, IWAIZUMI knew better than to believe the falsities spread by ignorant non-magicals. No matter if they raised their pitch forks and torches till their arms grew numb, he was taught to wear his scales with pride. Dragons weren’t ferocious or greedy, they never stole nor snatched neither gem or damsel.

They were protectors.

Gentle beasts who roamed Mother Earth to bask in her warmth and enjoy the fruits of her labor. Villagers would sought out their caves for refuge against harsh winters as guests, not as hostages. Princess’s fled unwanted betrothals to hide in their tallest tower by their own free will, not stripped from their beds in the dead of night to be doomed to eternal loneliness.

Iwa wasn’t certain how the rumors began, or why. He didn’t care—Their opinions meant little to nothing to the dragon shifter. One thing was for certain, “They’re a sickness. Nothing short of a plague on our kind, and by allowing them to live it would only mean our demise.”

But, his sentiment fell upon deaf ears. Oikawa hummed absentmindedly, too busy messing with his hair using a gold-encrusted spoon as a mirror. No matter if the reptile preached until he was blue in the face, his commander wouldn’t yield even if he were paying attention. The brunette’s tail flicked in annoyance, the strong appendage whipped around to whack the fellow shifter in the back of his head.

“Oucha!” Oikawa cried out, spoon dropping on the table with a loud clatter as he used both hands to rub away the pain in his now throbbing skull. “What was that for?!”

“Have you not heard a single goddamn word I’ve said?!” Iwa bellowed, making the other wince at the volume with his developing headache.

“Can’t really hear much of anything with a concussion, y’know…”

“The younglings returned from scouting, they’ve reported human activity near one of our northern territories. We’re not certain what they’re up to, but it can’t be anything good.”

He practically shoved the scroll into Oikawa’s chest. He grunts at the force, shoots his second-in-command a half-hearted glare before taking a glance at the report. Skimming through it he pursed his lips before looking back at Iwa, wearing an expression that didn’t take long to piss the other shifter off.

Iwa glared. “What?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“What?”

“Just this...this teenie, tiny little thing, no big deal, just couldn’t help but notice-”

“Spit it out, Shitty-kawa.”

Oikawa flipped the scroll around, pointing at a particular section of the report. “[_____]’s been crossed out. Pretty sure she’s a human. Which, according to your logic, would make her dangerous. Right?”

Iwa attempted to remain neutral, but the slight flick in his tail was enough answer for the commander’s suspicions. Not to mention, the pink hue now dusting across his cheeks. “She is the only exception.”

“Uh huh. Seriously, dude, you gotta drop this radical agenda of yours because I’m certain trying to wipe out her whole species would be considered a huge turn off.”

“Shut up, you don’t know what you’re talking about. She understands my goal, we even share the same opinions.”

“Really? Such as?”

“We both agree that humans are selfish creatures fueled by fear and greed. They despise anything they don’t understand, and destroy what they can’t control. That is why they’ve painted us to be the monsters in their stories—Makes their evil deeds feel justified.”

Oikawa nodded, unconvinced. “Fascinating. What else?”

Iwa huffed, arms crossed. “We also agree that without human interference, we’d be able to restore balance in nature. Migrations would go undisturbed, vegetation would thrive due to the forests no longer being stripped of its resources—We would have a fresh start.”

“Mhm. And, does she also share your sentiments on genocide, or were you planning on shoehorning in that part of your goal to her?”

There’s a brief silence. Both dragons merely stared at one another.

“Tsk.” Was Iwa’s only response.

© 2023-2024 anisespice ッ all rights reserved.

likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[laugtherhyena]

Bunch of Benis

[url0veb0t]

first of all, hii!!!! what's ur fave yttd char? second, could you write syobai fluff-- gn reader preferably. ty !! (also sorry im usually nervous to req)

ᥫ᭡ ; syobai fluff headcannons

ᥫ᭡ [a/n] ; hey anon! my fav yttd character is probably kanna, she’s so cute! also i missed writing on here a bit haha! apologies but I’ll turn this prompt into hc’s instead because I’m less experienced with writing scenarios, hope you can still enjoy this request regardless though!

tw!!: not really proofread, mentions of cigarettes/cigars, small spoilers (?) !!

ılı.lıllılı.ıllı. ılı.lıllılı.ıllı. ılı.lıllılı.ıllı. ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.

— honestly, it surprised both you and him that you would ever become so close to him, i mean, it’s near to impossible! however, syobai is glad that he has you by his side

— even though syobai is very unattached from any sort of friendship or relationship in general, it seems as if everything just flows in the right direction when it comes to you and him

— relationships are very complicated, but with you it’s all easy for him to get along with you and your personality after so long of hanging around eachother!

— syobai will never admit it, but he does certain things and goes out of his way to protect you after a real friendship/relationship started to form, very subtly though! you’d really have to look out for him doing so to notice

— “ be careful when going out today, and bring me back a pack of cigars while you’re at it ”

[sentinel-kinjo]

"The Night is Mine!" - Tsurugi Kinjo Centric fic (Christmas Edition)

'Tis the season, 'tis the season for Tsurugi fics where I do not think about his suffering one iota. 'Tis the season for his rest, and 'tis the season for you all to read and be merry.

Grab your hot chocolate, lay back, and scroll to your heart's content.

Word count: 972 words (This was written as a <1k word challenge)

Characters: Tsurugi Kinjo

Summary: Tsurugi's emancipation from a gruelling life of constant pressure did not go the way he wanted - even with his freedom, he still finds himself at risk on a daily basis, and is starting to no longer see home as a home. He resolves to fix this injustice, at any cost.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Tsurugi, to put it bluntly, was all alone in the world. Not in a literal sense, of course. But he knew that everyday, he returned to an empty apartment. Getting rid of the inheritance that could claim him a larger home was hard, but he resigned to store his share in a storage warehouse eventually- as a cop, it was good money to escape with at the end of the day. But for now, Tsurugi Kinjo was safe, and he was alone.

The current day was like any other: mundane. Though, the seasons reflected chill and frost on every corner. His hands were numb when he opened the door, regretting his decision not to grab gloves as his hands hovered over the heater. He flinched when he’d stopped paying attention and began touching the scalding metal.

Still, it warmed him, and that was all that mattered.

There was no companion, human or otherwise to welcome him - but what would change other than a different set of food on the table, every night.

As far as Tsurugi was concerned, that didn’t affect him. Food, as he knew it, stripping his overcoat to sway to the kitchen, was a source of energy supplementation and not much more.

They always did say, Tsurugi thought, that food tasted great with others around- but one sweep around his made-for-one apartment made it clear that they had left him long ago. One glance, and he was almost spilling the premade broth, just slightly startled when the cold liquid dripped past fingers clutching an overflowing bowl.

He uttered a light swear under his breath, tutting and shaking his head as he wiped his hands on trousers with already unidentifiable stains lining them- blood or someone else’s lunch- who could tell, and who was to say? He dumped some separated, dry noodles in the batch and left the bowl to microwave when he made his salad from leaves that were close to wilting, cutting vegetables and narrowly avoiding his fingers from the blade’s wrath before setting everything aside in a bowl. He  topped it with dry seaweed just as the ding from the microwave rang out, and he smelled the familiar scent of chicken noodle soup finally come to fruition.

The second thing to leave his lips since returning was a gentle sigh, entering a world of rest as he held his bowl from the sides, firm pressure on his palms warming the rest of his hands as he went to sit in front of his dining table. 

Once again, the dining table was solitary. The chairs were complimentary, and intended for guests at dinner parties- or so he said, not that it actually ever came around to it. His chair and his chair alone stood, dented slightly by his seating over the days and weeks and months.

He began stirring and tasting as he switched on the news, waiting aimlessly for the crime reports past the slog of the weather. When he’d finished picking at the actual chicken, the crime segment came to life, and he spotted, as expected, one of his coworkers giving an interview based on the events of the day. A robbery, nothing too extenuating, and one that Tsurugi had obviously stopped. He grimaced, finishing the noodles next and hearing his name being mentioned five times in rapid succession. He thought about it as he sipped on the broth finally, that the officer in question deserved a little something for taking the interview in his stead while he finally went to have dinner instead of having cameras flash in his face. He chewed the leaves of his salad, decorated with pecans and cashews before clearing up. Routine, everyday the same as the past and future to come.

It wasn't that Tsurugi didn’t enjoy it. In fact, he revelled, or so he said to himself, in the mundane that his sanctuary provided in comparison to the lurid, blended life of crime, paperwork and media presences, swirling and enmeshing him, strangling him.

Yes, Tsurugi Kinjo liked being at home. He didn’t have to be the Former Ultimate Police officer when he nestled into a worn couch. He could be regular, even when his face was shown on TV. He could be a man who made a warm cup of hot chocolate for himself, topped with whipped cream and marshmallows- and no one would be any the wiser.

With chocolate shavings, and a candy cane to boot. Or two. ‘Tis the season, after all. A smile played on the regular man’s lips, and he got up, intending to fulfil his own Christmas wish. He boiled milk on the hob, taking an old hot chocolate stick from a nearby gift basket. Marshmallows and whipped cream were bought as a novelty of grocery shopping, candy canes stemmed from holiday gifts for the boss, and chocolate - 80% cocoa - was kept on the top shelf of his cupboard, the perfect finisher. One candy cane stuck out from the cup, another was crumbled with the chocolate. Tsurugi picked it up by the handle, and before ceremoniously sitting down, he looked around at his apartment, made for one.

A twinkle emerged from his red eyes, tinted with the hues of Christmas time.

A sanctuary to hide in was one thing, but a place to live in, he thought, picturing icicle fairy lights, fauna, decorative statues next to cloved oranges in a basket, fruit bowls and biscuit tins galore, was something else entirely.

Instead of slumping off to bed to resume his life, Tsurugi hopped on his couch with his drink (and some extra chocolate- 80% cocoa), resting his head against a cushion as he flicked the channel - a movie was playing. Nevermind what it was, he simply cozied up and let the title credits play.

Such was the life of the regular man, Tsurugi Kinjo.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

[sugar-omi]

OLBA masterpost

please let me know if any links are broken, and do not lead to the post.

- [smut | all readers] touchy cove

- [smut | afab readers] wearing an anklet w cove’s name on it

- [nsfw imagine | all readers] spitting in cove’s mouth

- [smut | all readers] revised patreon moment

- [smut | afab/fem readers] jealous cove wanting to know he’s yours

- [suggestive | all readers] jealous/possessive cove wanting you to himself

- [nsfw] cove nsfw alphabet

- [headcanons] cove w piercings

- [smut | all readers] bottom/sub cove fighting you for dominance & losing

- [smut hc/drabble | afab/fem readers] first time having raw sex + how cove reacts to dirty talk

- [smut | afab/fem readers] trying for a baby with cove PART 1

- [smut | afab/fem readers] trying for a baby with cove PART 2- [fluff | afab/fem reader] how it is to raise your kid/s with cove

- [fluff | step 2 | all readers] cove catches you doodling a heart around his name

- [fluff + smut | fem/afab readers] you and cove go on your honeymoon to the bahamas!

- [comfort | fem/afab reader | pregnancy] cove helps you through your morning sickness

- [angst (happy ending for cove) | all readers] you leave cove for baxter, this is how your family & friends react

- [angst | all readers] you have a nightmare about cheating on cove. how do you deal with this? PART 1

- [h/c | all readers]you finally tell cove why you ran away PART 2

- [suggestive | all readers] you and cove are crushing on each other. instead of confessing, you tease n flirt with each other.

- [suggestive | all readers] you and cove are in college, the sexual tension is high PART 1

- [suggestive | all readers] you and cove are in college, the sexual tension is high PART 2

- [fluff | headcanons] dungeon & dragon headcanons for ol1+2

- [fluff | step 2 | all readers] you tell cove he’s cute in a game of hangman

- [fluff + suggestive | all readers | headcanons] hc’s about reader & cove being in a band

- [fluff | headcanons | all readers] how you and cove act when you come back from your honeymoon

- [angst / hurt/comfort | all readers] cove steps in to take care of you & your child

- [suggestive | all readers | possessive/soft yandere reader]you are jealous and possessive with cove and he loves how you claim him in front of people, like baxter.

- [ fluff | drabble | fem/afab reader | pregnancy] cove loves when you’re heavily pregnant & need his help with things

- [fluff | headcanons] dungeon and dragon headcanons for ol1 & ol2

- [fluff | headcanons] mermaid cove headcanons

-[nsfw | headcanons] mermaid cove nsfw headcanons

- [smut | all readers] cove and baxter have sex while you’re on the phone with them PART 1

- [smut | all readers] you get cove high and have sex

- [angst / hurt/comfort | all readers] baxter dies and cove steps in to take care of you + your child

- [fluff | fem/afab readers] spending your morning with the boys

- [smut | all readers] you and cove have a quickie before your anniversary party

- [smut | fem/afab reader] you’ve been a brat all day, cove has had enough

- [fluff | all readers] you and cove's first Christmas when married

 [sfw+nsfw | headcanons] transmasc (ftm) cove hc's

- [fluff | headcanons] cove's kid being a splitting image of him

- [nsfw | headcanons | all readers] spicy dilf!cove headcanons

- [fluff | headcanons | all readers] the boys with a blind or deaf MC/reader

- [fluff | headcanons] the boys as stardew valley characters

- [sfw + nsfw | fem/afab readers | headcnons/drabbles] fem!cove and reader ramble

- [sfw | headcanons] rockstar!cove + rockstar!baxter headcanons

- [nsfw] you have a low libido, so you guide cove on how to jerk himself off

- [hurt/comfort | ramble ]MC being overwhelmed by their feelings for cove and expectations for their relationships

- [angst | headcanons | fem/afab reader | pregnancy] how everyone reacts to you and cove getting engaged at 18 because you're pregnant

- [smut | amab/masc readers] first time having raw sex w derek

- [fluff | headcanons] dungeon and dragon headcanons for ol1 & ol2

- [fluff | fem/afab readers] spending your morning with the boys

- [fluff | headcanons | all readers] the boys with a blind or deaf MC/reader

- [fluff | headcanons] the boys as stardew valley characters

- [suggestive drabble | all readers] baxter rejoins you in bed

- [nsfw] baxter nsfw alphabet

- [nsfw hc’s | all readers] baxter sending dirty videos + getting you off in his car

- [nsfw hc’s | all readers] appreciating bottom/sub baxter

- [smut hc/drabble | afab readers] first time having raw sex w baxter

- [angst with/without happy ending | all readers] how baxter reacts when you reject his offer to date for the summer

- [hurt/comfort | afab/fem readers implied] how baxter acts with a reader who has a “jaded” view about boys & how he helps them open up to him

- [fluff | all readers] how baxter acts with a nervous reader, and how they open up to each other

- [fluff | all readers] you elope with baxter

- [angst (happy ending for cove) | all readers] you leave cove for baxter, this is how your family & friends react

- [angst (w or w/o happy ending) | all readers] you reject baxter’s offer to date for the summer

- [angst | all readers] what is baxter thinking when you leave cove for him?

- [angst / hurt/comfort | all readers] cove steps in to take care of you & your child

- [fluff | headcanons] dungeon and dragon headcanons for ol1 & ol2

- [smut | all readers] cove and baxter have sex while you’re on the phone with them PART 1

- [angst / hurt/comfort | all readers] baxter dies and cove steps in to take care of you + your child

- [fluff | fem/afab readers] spending your morning with the boys

- [fluff | headcanons | all readers] the boys with a blind or deaf MC/reader

- [fluff | headcanons] the boys as stardew valley characters

- [sfw | headcanons] rockstar!cove + rockstar!baxter headcanons

- [nsfw | gn reader] valentines day with rockstar!baxter

- kinktober 2023 masterlist

[siriusly-parker]

—ily, bye. [draco m.]

tags. [angsty fluff?, confession, basically just draco getting crazy whenever the reader says ily, lowkey horny for it???]

author’s note. [very short! hope you like it!!]

wc. [0.88k]

She rushed to get her things into her bag. Study session was over and Pansy was waiting for her. So with her back to him, already leaving, she called out, “Love you, bye!” She didn’t think anything of it. They were friends. She said it to all her friends. It was true anyway. She did love him. More than she cared to admit, though she wasn’t even saying it in the way she wished she could. She was also in fact leaving. A farewell such as her simple “bye” was solely the product of her being well mannered. So, “Love you, bye!” was not a big deal. She said it all the time. Not to him, but she was hoping she could start.

“Say it again.” She stopped in her tracks but didn’t turn to face him. “Bye?” Did he not hear it the first time? “No.” Confused, she turned on her heel and faced her potions partner with a questioning raised eyebrow. They didn’t often need words to communicate, she wondered why hers mattered now. “The other part.” Draco wasn’t rolling his eyes, he wasn’t teasing or honestly confused. He had an expression on his face she couldn’t quite figure out. A slight frown caused subtle wrinkles in between his eyebrows. She wished she could kiss it all away. She smiled at the thought before remembering what was actually the “other part” of her send-off. “I love you?” Now her own eyebrows were creased, she didn’t quite understand what he wanted, but still, she just couldn’t shake the smile off her face. Maybe she just liked how these three little words rolled so easily off her tongue. They felt so loud against the otherwise silent library. She could only hope he liked hearing it as much as she loved saying it.

Lost in her thoughts, she barely caught how he let his head fall back and sighed. It wasn't really from relief. It felt more like contentment, satisfaction… pleasure. She just watched, Pansy long forgotten, as he ran his hand down his face and said, “C’mere.” And she did. As she came closer to his seat she looked around. Empty. They were completely alone in the library and her heart started to beat just a tad faster. “Draco…” He closed his eyes again. Savouring the sound. “Fuck… I never knew I’d love hearing my own name so bad.” She took another step. “Draco…” It was barely a whisper, a question, though she did not know which one exactly she was asking. He kept his eyes closed, even as he felt her knees hit his. “Dra-” “Say it again.” A smile couldn’t help but creep up her face. “Which part?” Opening his eyes, he rested his hands on the back of her thighs. “All of it.” He looked up at her, not used to such a vulnerable position. Yet, here he was, putty in her hands, begging to hear simple words, without even caring if they were true. She smiled and put her hands through his hair. Maybe it was the fact that they were already in such a compromising position or maybe it was just the opportunity that shutting his eyes again gave her. She wouldn’t have to hide the smile, or the blush, or the overall expression on her face that gave away how much she was truly enjoying it all. “I love you, Draco.” He didn’t open his eyes. He truly believed he would never again be able to. Not after hearing an angel speak of love and uttering the name of constellations without ever mentioning the night sky. He experienced the divine and couldn’t simply go back to a hardly enjoyable existence, where her hands weren’t in his hair and his own name wasn’t such ear-candy. He rested his forehead on her torso, just in front of him. It felt so easy, they were just so close, in every sense of the word. Barely lowering her head, she whispered in his ear, “I love you. I love you, Draco.”

How did they get there? Where along the way did longing stares and brush of hands become holding of thighs, caressing of hair, and deeply sincere “I love yous”? It didn’t really matter, all these questions about how and why and where and when. It was already happening and it felt so much better than any stolen glances and sleepless nights.

So, she said it again. “Draco, I love you.” “Yeah…” “I love you, Draco.” “Again…” “I love you.” “Mmm hmm…” That was all he could manage. He was basking in the affection he’d always dreamed of. He was high on it. Hooked on it. It consumed his very being. “I love you.” She’d say, kissing the top of his platinum hair. “I’ll tell you a thousand times a day if that’s what you want to hear. I’ll tell you even when you don’t ask me to.” She takes his face, guiding his gaze back to her. When he finally opens his eyes back up, he speaks before she ever gets a chance to. “I love you, Y/n.” She closes her eyes, relishing the words he had just said. “Fuck… it does sound quite good when it’s the right person saying it…”

‎𐦂 hope you enjoyed it!! comment what you think! ◡̈

‧˚ʚ masterlist + requests

✦ tags ; restarting my tagging list/system! plz send an ask, comment, dm to be added!!

[ahundredtimesover]

Belong (01) | 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, sport injury; dreams & moving away; implied depression; basketball and acting talk; 2014 and 2022 Yoongi; shy and nonchalant cocky whipped Yoongi; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter (18+)

Chapter Word count: 14.2k

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: Boston by Augustana; Shelter by Luca Fogale || Playlist 🎶

A/N: Posting this today to celebrate People pt.2 and D-Day! Here’s a little piece I’ve had for a while. It felt fitting to write something about dreams and finding your purpose through Yoongi and at a time when I’m going through something similar. There’s nothing like his wisdom and his warmth so I hope this could mean something to you somehow. 💕 Please enjoy! And 🫡 to NBA Ambassador Suga! Now that’s his 🏀 dream in another form.

Present Day

There’s always something magical whenever you watch yourself on screen. 

It’s not due to some narcissistic reason or an insatiable desire for the spotlight; it’s not even because you think you’re really talented. Sure, you like the attention and just like anyone who’s spent years of their lives perfecting their craft, you want to be pretty great at it, but all those thoughts become suspended whenever it’s your scene. 

During these instances, it’s only about your character and her emotions, and that’s what you think is remarkable about it - watching yourself is just like being there, in that moment, on that set, feeling it all. 

Most actors would say they love acting because it gives them a variety of roles and personalities to play. You like that bit, too, but it’s the character’s emotions that you commit yourself to the most; it’s being able to immerse yourself in the feelings of joy and anger, of contempt and fear, of envy and admiration, of guilt and love. You like the finiteness of it, that with acting comes the feeling, and you know at some point, it’s going to end. 

Once the scene is over, so is the emotion; you’re able to let go of it right away with one breath. You’re good at that, you think - holding onto something for as long as it’s yours, and then letting it go when it no longer is. 

The collective gasp of the people around you breaks your bubble only a little; you release a breath yourself as the last scene unfolds. And with the final shot and the succeeding transition to the end credits, you let go of the sadness.

“I can’t believe that only took one shot,” your best friend, Taehyung, says in awe. “I would’ve been crying already knowing how it ends.”

“Jin and I challenged each other,” you proudly say. “We said we’d do our absolute best for that first try and the director thought it was that good. Seriously, not crying until that last second was so hard; I didn’t think I could do it.”

The Kim Seokjin, your co-actor and good friend, looks at you from the other side of the couch with that soft and proud look that you only ever get from him once a project is over. You return the sentiment, knowing that you wouldn’t have survived your first lead role in a drama series if he wasn’t acting alongside you. 

He’d been your senior at university where you both took your major in acting. He was already modeling then and snagged a major role in a movie right after graduation; he became a household name after that. 

You watched from the sidelines as he achieved his dreams while you took the occasional 30-second roles given to the students, but he didn’t forget you. He called regularly to know how you were doing, gave tips when you asked, and informed you of upcoming auditions. 

It was the type of friendship that challenged you, given that you both wanted to one day star in a series or movie together, a culmination of all the long hours of rehearsals and line-reading and classes that you both did. He had already made a name for himself; you wanted to be good enough to have yours be opposite his. 

It would take a few years, but after a supporting role in a romcom movie that saw people wanting more of you, you and Jin finally got cast in a series about a mortal woman falling in love with a celestial being, which, at the beginning, reflected your respective statuses in the industry. You expected the show to do well - everything that Kim Seokjin touches turns to gold, as the saying goes - but you didn’t expect for the public to love you both as a pair as much as they do, given that they want you to star in another show right away. 

“I cried as I turned around,” Jin says of the scene where he had to go back to his world and leave you behind. “That was heavy and even I’m impressed we did it in one shot.”

“Well, the sadness and grief would have dwindled by the third or fourth time,” you chuckle. “I’m not good enough yet to maintain all the emotions after so many takes.”

“Not that you aren’t good enough,” Jin counters. “You just haven’t been in the industry that long yet. That kind of experience makes a difference. I’d say I wouldn’t have been able to sustain the same emotion for long, too. It was a difficult one. I mean, what goodbye scene isn’t?”

It���s a rhetorical question, of course, but much of why it was difficult for you to keep the emotions in was because it was your first goodbye scene. You have a feeling that the succeeding ones wouldn’t be any easier, though. You’d like to think you’re okay with goodbyes and that says a lot, but then again, you don’t know anyone who’s actually good at it.

Or maybe you do. But you’d rather not think about it.

It’s silent for a few more seconds. You suppose that the rest of your co-actors who are here with you are still processing the end of a series that’s been their source of comfort for the past few months, too. It had been your weekly routine to watch the episode together in Jin’s house, not wanting to let go of each other just yet after filming wrapped up a few weeks ago. 

“Well, that was amazing, wasn’t it?” He finally speaks up. “It was a good run and thank god that ___ insisted on these watch parties. Or else I’d be crying by myself in my room after the finale,” he laughs. “This better not be the last time we see each other.”

“Because it isn’t,” you reply. “We still have that cast and crew dinner and a couple more filming stuff for promo. That’s easily another 3 more weeks of being together. Which is really 3 weeks too short.”

“So… does anyone want to go on a trip after that?” Hyun-seung, one of the actors, excitedly suggests. “It’d be a good way to unwind and use up what we’ll earn.”

You laugh along with everyone but you’re the only one who passes up on it. 

“I can’t,” you sigh. “I have a trip to Daegu at the end of the month and I can’t move it.”

Disappointed sighs echo throughout the living room, and you insist that they should continue with the trip without you. Most of them don’t want to, but you eye Jin so that he would make the call to push through with it even if you won’t be around, so he does. It’s rare to find such good company with other actors, and you truly want them to maintain the friendships they built here way beyond the series. 

Your friends make general plans as you listen in, wishing you could be there instead of home, which is where you’ll be for the next 2 months as you promised your family. Or more like, as they guiltripped you into doing. 

You haven’t been home in years and for good reason. After your parents separated and you were the lone child who didn’t harbor anger towards your mother who wanted to pursue her dreams elsewhere, you promised yourself you’d leave that place, too. 

Visits during summer had been fine. But after the most painful goodbye you ever made, you’d stopped going back altogether, reasoning that your up and coming career required all your time. You doubt that your family knew the truth, and despite their remarks of you following in the footsteps of your mother, those weren’t enough for you to open up about something so heartbreaking, knowing it hit too close to home. Their bitterness wasn’t a reason for you to keep going back either. 

“Daegu, really?” Jin asks after everyone else has left, save for Taehyung and Jimin, your personal assistant whose glassy eyes say he’s not yet over the season finale. “You haven’t been home in 6 years.”

“Four, actually,” you correct him. “I had a filming there sometime ago.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t actually go home,” he clarifies. “You went to the shoot then back to your hotel. I remember that; I kept asking Tae how you were doing.”

“I was fine,” you shrug. “How was I supposed to be? I was good, just couldn’t wait to get back here. I had a boyfriend, remember?”

“Andrew was a fling, not a boyfriend,” Jin rolls his eyes, and you confirm that the model is his least favorite of your exes. “And if I remember correctly, you broke it off days later.”

“Well, it stops being good when it stops being fun,” Taehyung says, mocking your usual statement whenever your friends ask why you broke things off with your partners. “She shut down when she came back. I guess going home does that to her.”

“You know how places just naturally comfort you? Daegu isn’t that place,” you try to explain. “I had to get it off my system for the one week I was there and Andrew acted out. I just didn’t want the drama.”

Everyone nods, knowing it’s how you usually are. You always viewed relationships as a complement to your job. Being an actor is tough work with its own complications and you definitely don’t want it from your partner. It was always easy for you to fall into that honeymoon hole with someone, but you always walked away from it just as quick once the rainbows and butterflies had subsided. Whether it’s jealousy over your leading men or not having enough time, or just wanting to be by yourself to regroup, your exes always found a reason to argue. And you were always good at walking away when you needed to.

It was like that with every person. Except one. Your friends don’t know if he’s the reason why, or if he’s the exception.

“So what made you decide to go home? And for how long?” Jin queries, feeling a little worried because of what he knows is out there for you. He’s always been a little protective like that.

“About 2 months?” You respond, to the surprise of the older man. “My dad wants me to celebrate his wedding anniversary with them. And spend time with my sisters’ kids and my grandparents and shit.”

“And spend time with my parents,” Taehyung adds, knowing it’s probably the only thing you’re excited about, given how much they adore you and vice versa. “They can’t wait to see you.”

“Same here,” you finally smile. “We’re definitely seeing them first.”

“Anyone else you’re going to see there?” Jin asks some more.

“You can say his name, you know?” You nudge your friend’s knee. “I know he’s who you mean.”

“Well then. Are you going to see Yoongi?”

“I don’t plan on seeing him but I probably will. It’s a big city but it’s a small town. Plus, I’m with Daegu’s Prince right here,” you say, pointing to your best friend who’s made a name for himself as a ballad singer. “Tae will be dragging me around so I won’t be surprised if I encounter Yoongi somehow, somewhere.”

“And what happens when you see him?” Jimin now asks, wanting to know if he’d need to drive to you in case you decide to come home early. 

“Then I see him. We’re… fine,” you state, earning you an eye roll from each man, so you clarify. “I mean, I’m perfectly fine living my dream in Seoul. And he’s a college basketball coach in Daegu, which is the closest to his dream he could get, and I heard his team’s doing really well. It’s been 6 years. He let me go. And I’ve moved on. Who knows how it’s gonna be like? But I’m civil with each one of my exes and it won’t be any different with him.”

“He’s different, though,” Jimin points out. “You actually loved him; you can’t say the same for all your exes. And you can’t argue that,” he adds, seeing your shaking head and disagreeing face. “Drunk and hungover you told me all that more than once and I trust that version of you over the sober one when it comes to your love life.”

“Okay, Mr. Know-It-All,” you frown at him. “I wasn’t going to deny that but it was the naive, impulsive, hopeless romantic version of me who loved him. That’s not me anymore. I’ve grown up. I know what I want from my partner, and Yoongi is just the small town boy who’ll always think that his broken dreams will keep him from loving me the way I deserve. And maybe he’s right.”

It’s quiet for a while, as your friends take in your words since you rarely ever talk about the man unless you’re in an inebriated state or recovering from it. But it’s the first time that the possibility of seeing him looms over you, knowing that within those 2 months, you’re bound to run into him somehow. 

Now it’s too quiet, and you realize that none of you know what to say since you’re all sober. Truth be told, you don’t remember anything that Jimin’s ever told you during those times that you opened up, and Jin never really said much, knowing how hard that breakup hit you. And Taehyung, well… the man was there before, during, and after it all, yet he never really said much, always choosing to let the silence engulf both of you.

“Look, I’m touched you all seem to be worried,” you finally speak up. “But I’m going to be fine. I found a house I’m renting that’s nice and private. I’m actually excited to eat at my favorite restaurants and visit places I’ve missed. I can’t do anything about my family but at least Tae will be with me the whole time and save me from their madness if he needs to. And Yoongi, well… he’s a closed chapter in my book. There’s no reason to revisit that. Hi, goodbye - that’ll be it, just like before.”

You sigh to yourself, hoping that your friends would take your word for it, though you don’t really blame them if they don’t. They’ve seen you barely bat an eye after calling it quits with your exes but they’ve heard of how broken you were because of that breakup; seeing Yoongi again might just bring up old memories that you might not be ready for. And they won’t all be there to lift you up like they’d want to. 

“Okay then, if you say so,” Jin finally smiles. “But if something comes up… you know I can always drive there and bring you back here.”

“And add to the already existing rumors about us being a thing?” You laugh, referring to all the social media fodder about your chemistry that’s too good, it might be real. 

“So? Then we let it,” he shrugs.

“Does the Kim Seokjin not care about dating rumors?” You gasp. “You always complained about it. Don’t tell me you like me.”

Jin sits next to you and cups your face in his hands. “I… love you. The way a dear friend who dreamed with you and who gets to live that out with you does. We all love you. We’d do anything for you. You know that, right?”

“I do,” you say, humming once he plants a soft kiss on your forehead, just like all the times he’d done before - when you graduated university, when you didn’t get callbacks, and when you landed your first major role. “Thank you.”

You decide to head out after a long evening. Jimin lists your activities for the next day before he’s dropped off at his apartment. Taehyung lets you listen to his new single for his upcoming album, and you get emotional over his soulful sound and the fact that he gets to live out his dream with you, too.

He walks you to your front door and hugs you tightly, just like all the times he’d done before - when you cried about your family, when Yoongi broke up with you, and when you found out he was dating someone new. 

“I love you, okay?” Your best friend whispers. 

He says it in that soft, comforting voice of his. The one that always told you that things were gonna be fine, as if love solves all things, and at one point, you believed it did. 

Your hometown of Daegu looks very different from the last time you were really here. It changed a lot. And it changed pretty quickly. 

But some things about it stay the same - family-run restaurants, streets lined with little shops passed down from generations, the parks and the temples, the playground in your old neighborhood with the basketball court that you know all too well.

They make the place home, Mrs. Kim says. That doesn’t change no matter how far or how long you’ve been away. 

You want to disagree. This place was never home. It felt like bits of it during the times you used to watch ballet performances at the Opera House with your mom or when your dad used to grill makchang on Friday nights. 

But when she decided to leave and then he remarried, you had just memories of home left. Your sisters’ resentment over your happiness for your mother as she achieved her dreams took all that was remaining, and coming here reminds you more than what you lost; it reminds you of what you can never have - that space to dream, the place of safety, the love that would endure time and distance. 

You enjoy the best short ribs dish over Mr. Kim’s recordings of his saxophone performances. Mrs. Kim dotes on you like her own daughter, and Taehyung announces all the things you’ll be doing now that you’re both back home, taking your respective breaks that you deserve, and spending the money that you worked hard for. 

You eventually leave for some rest. The house you’re staying at is far from the buzz of the city. It’s private and secure, a little too spacious for one, and boasts of the views of the mountains. Jimin had found it, knowing you’d need the peace and quiet amidst all that would be taking place during your short time here. 

Taehyung will be staying over at his parents’ place, but they insist that it’s open for you to visit anytime you want. You think you need the time for yourself, though. Your job often requires you to be around people, and you’re thankful for the choice you have now to be away from them. For some time, at least.

[From: Manager Jung] Are you settled? I’ve got a script for you to go through. Sending it now 

Your agent-slash-manager’s message disrupts your moment of tranquility as you sit out at the garden, watching the sun set. You’d arrived from Seoul in time for lunch and spent the rest of the afternoon at Taehyung’s parents’ house before heading to yours. 

[To: Manager Jung] Yeah, all good. But give me a week until I read the script. Don’t want to think much about work yet 

[From: Manager Jung] Fine. Just don’t take too long 

You sigh, knowing that though you promised Jin and Jimin that you won’t be thinking about work while you’re here - you need a break from it all, they told you - your manager won’t really let you. And much as you want to complain about him pushing you real hard, you’re thankful that Jung Hoseok always does. 

He was the one who saw your talent and insisted you’ve got a bright future after one casting call that you were almost late for. He was strategic in which roles to pitch you for as a rookie actor, and which ones would get you ahead of the game, no matter how challenging it was. During the times you wondered if you were meant for this industry, he always assured you that you were. There was always going to be a bigger break after the last, he believed, and he promised you he’d go searching for that role until you got the biggest break of your career. 

And every time you think he’ll cross the line of pressuring you too much, he says something sweet, brotherly, friendly. 

[From: Manager Jung] But take care of yourself there, ok? Don’t let them talk down on you. Don’t let them crush your dreams 

You’d cry if his words came with a hug.

[From: Manager Jung] And guard your heart. Don’t let him hurt you again 

You pretend he means your father; he let your sisters’ resentment of you go on after all, and his inaction made you feel unloved in your own home. 

You don’t want to think that Hoseok means someone else because it would mean that for all the times you questioned if everything you gave up to chase your dream was worth it, then he knew it was because of the man who broke your heart 6 years ago. You don’t want to think that all these years, Hoseok knew that your buzz-worthy dating life, whose aftermath he always had to manage, was just your futile attempt at getting over the first and only man you ever loved. 

Being in any sports facility unsettles you. You always claim that the buzz of sporting events just isn’t your cup of tea - you prefer the noise of a film or television set, or of a theater right before the movie starts. It wasn’t always like that, of course. You used to enjoy the screams and heckles of sports fans; you used to be one of them. 

But you found out the hard way that losing someone means you lose the parts of you that you’d adopted because of them, that you fall out of love with the things you used to love because of them.

Basketball is one of those things. It’s why Taehyung used to not invite you whenever there were Thunders games at Jamsil despite the free tickets always available for you; he knew you’d say no and he hates rejection. 

But Mr. Song is a man you can’t say no to. Not only is he the city’s mayor, he’s also a good friend of your father’s, which is how the chief official got wind of your return. 

Your trip isn’t meant to be publicized. Actors take breaks and visit their hometowns regularly without attracting the media, and oftentimes, that’s thanks to the local government, who employs their political will and own security to ensure that celebrities aren’t disturbed while they’re on vacation or just visiting family. It’s good for them, of course, but it also sometimes comes with small favors, like a private dinner with some of their close friends and some photos or autographs. You don’t really mind, especially since the same is extended to Taehyung, hence why the lunch earlier at the mayor’s residence wasn’t all that bad. It was only slightly awkward with your father because you chose to meet up with Taehyung’s family first before yours, but your dad didn’t dwell on it. 

Other than privacy, one other thing you get are free courtside Korean Basketball League tickets. The Pegasus just recently moved to Daegu from Incheon and there’d been a lot of promotion to get the city to give their full support to their new hometown team. Mr. Song thinks that photos of you and Taehyung attending the game will be the publicity that the team needs, and while your best friend genuinely agrees to the arrangement, you only do so half-heartedly. You’ll at least see your friends who are playing for the other team, but even the thought of Jungkook and Namjoon being back home and the party they’ll throw after is making you even more unsettled. 

“Hmm, number 16 was pretty cute,” you whisper to Taehyung as you head out of the locker room after some photos with the home team. “I wonder if he’ll be at the party tonight.”

“No, he won’t,” your best friend responds. 

“Why not? Because he’s from the other team? I’m sure that Jungkook won’t mind, right? I mean, yeah it’s his house but—”

“Tonight is for college friends only.”

“We didn’t even go to their university,” you point out, given that you and Taehyung studied in Seoul and had met there, instantly clicking after finding out you both hailed from the same city. “Why are we going?”

“We are honorary members,” he replies. “I went to high school with them and you…” he trails, trying to figure out how to phrase how you became an honorary member of their group of friends without bringing him up. 

“Are the ex of one of their friends,” you finish for him. “You can say it, you know?”

“I don’t know, can I?” He arches a brow.

“Yes. I don’t deny the fact that Yoongi and I dated.”

“You just deny how much it affected you.”

“You mistake my amazing ability of moving on for denial,” you groan. “But oh shit. Wait. Does this mean that he’ll be there at the party?”

Taehyung huffs as he settles in his seat and looks at your worried eyes. “For someone who doesn’t seem to be in denial, you sure look a bit anxious that he might be there tonight. Didn’t you say you can be civil with your exes?”

“Yeah, I can,” you reply defensively. “I don’t know about him. But then again, he moved on first, so I doubt seeing me would affect him much.”

Your best friend lets out a breath, not wanting to argue. He’s learned long ago that when it comes to Yoongi, you’re dead set on many things - like the narrative that he moved on first, that he was so much happier without you, that dreams were always more important for him, whether it was yours or his. Taehyung tried to help you process that whole experience, especially the aftermath, as you went on dating one man after another after you found out about Yoongi dating some local musician. 

But you always had a default answer, that you’ve always been that way - quick to fall in love and quick to fall out of it, and Yoongi was no exception. You met, fell in love, and while you technically didn’t fall out of love, the breakup left you no choice but to do just that; he was the one who insisted that you leave, after all, and you’d been the one too heartbroken that he didn’t love you enough to make you stay.

“Well then let’s just see what happens,” Taehyung shrugs. “We’ve got a game to watch, a party to go to, and friends to catch up with.”

“And a nice, peaceful home to retire to after tonight. I’ll need all the good energy before I see the rest of my family tomorrow,” you sigh.

Right, there’s that, Taehyung frowns. Your family’s too complicated that you insist you don’t want him to get sucked into the drama, hence why you don’t want him to go with you. But between that and the possibility of seeing your ex, he could only hope that during this trip, you won’t get your heart broken too early, too quickly, or too hard.

“How is it that the Pegasus have been playing here for months but it’s the first time we’re watching their game live?” Geumjae asks incredulously as he sips his beer. 

“Because it’s the first home game of the season against the Thunders when I’m home and when Jungkook and Namjoon don’t have girlfriends to give their tickets to,” Yoongi explains to his older brother. “And well, I never asked before.”

“Well, good on us that you’re here and your friends currently don’t have girlfriends,” Geumjae laughs. “Also, you could totally ask. They’re your friends; I don’t think it would be that hard for them to get extra seats for us.”

“I’m not their only friend here. I’m sure a bunch of the guys from college would ask,” Yoongi shrugs. 

“You’re not just their friend, Yoon,” his brother groans. “You played with them, you captained them, and led them to college championships.”

“Yeah, yet I’m the one hustling it out as a college coach while they’re playing pro,” the younger man huffs. 

He doesn’t mean to be bitter. He loves those guys, hustled it out with them until the late evenings just to get the proper training and workout in almost a decade ago. He couldn't be any prouder when Jungkook and Namjoon got drafted to professional teams and then reunited as teammates with the Seoul Samsung Thunders just 2 years ago. Yoongi had been the encouraging senior who messaged them right away, happy for his peers for being together again just like old times. He won’t lie and say it didn’t sting a bit to be left out from the life they all dreamed of having, with him being the only one who didn’t get to achieve it alongside them. 

“Well, if it matters at all, you’re doing amazing,” Geumjae tries to cheer his brother up. “I read online that many are calling your team to win it all this year. Imagine being the only person in your school’s history to be a champion player and coach? Not just anyone can say that.”

Yoongi hums, trying to let the thought comfort him. It doesn’t do much; coaching a college basketball team is leagues away from playing professionally. The energy is different, so is the hustle. Shooting hoops with the kids during training isn’t the same. The lights and the cheers as he sits on the bench calling plays isn’t the same either. He can at least say that with coaching, he’s able to shape and mentor the young ones, direct them to better paths, encourage them to reach their dreams, and to not settle for a life they’re not happy with or proud of. He’s got a bunch of players who got drafted last year and dedicated their first professional game to him, and that’s an indescribable feeling he’ll always hold onto. It reminds him that even if it wasn’t him, it was at least someone he cared about. 

He watches as the players do their warmups on court before the start of the game. This isn’t the first time he’s watched live, but it’s the first time with Jungkook and Namjoon as teammates, so seeing them goof around and do the handshake that they used to do warms his heart a little. Maybe it’s this bit of joy that he needs to remind him that it’s okay, that even if life turned out differently for him, at least basketball is still part of his life. There’s more he wants, of course, but this is way better than nothing. He reminds himself at one point, he didn’t think he could ever set foot on a basketball court again.

The game finally starts and though he’s usually quiet whenever he watches games, he can’t help the small small cheer he makes whenever Jungkook or Namjoon scores or makes crucial plays. He still knows their moves, can still read Jungkook’s pump-fake, and can still tell by Namjoon’s stance if he’s gonna make that rare three. Though he was a shooting guard during his glory days, Yoongi still prides himself in his playmaking skills and knowing his teammates well, something that scouts used to rave about. 

Yoongi sips his beer, no doubt enjoying the exciting match. He obviously wants the Thunders to win, but the Pegasus aren’t backing down, not letting themselves trail by more than 8 points. He’s in a bit of a trance, as he lets himself drown in the cheers of the crowd, imagining that it’s him leaving it all out on the court. 

But as he looks up on the big screen during timeout, he feels like the air is being sucked out of him. His ears don’t betray them either, as the announcer calls on your name and Taehyung’s - “celebrity sightings,” he says, while you and your best friend wave to the camera and smile like the superstars that you both are. The cheers get louder and Geumjae joins them until he realizes.

“Shit, that’s your ex-girlfriend,” he whisper-shouts. He laughs at the scene of his brother practically choking on his drink. “Wow, she still has that effect on you, huh?”

“No, she doesn’t,” Yoongi says nonchalantly, desperately forcing his heart to slow its beating. 

“Did you know she’s gonna be here?”

“I don’t keep tabs on her whereabouts, Geumjae,” he replies, suddenly sounding hard, defensive.

“Do you think she’s gonna be at the party?”

Fuck, the party, Yoongi slightly panics. Jungkook talked about the sort of reunion he’s throwing at his house after the game. Their old teammates will be there, as well as some other friends from college who are still in the city. You and Taehyung were honorary members of that group and Yoongi knows that you’re both invited, too.

“I guess,” he merely shrugs, looking like it doesn’t bother him much. 

It shouldn’t. It’s been 6 years, and while he’d been the one to break it off, you’re the one who’s dated a lot since then, something he can’t fault you for. You’d obviously catch a lot of attention - you did catch his - not just for your charm and unbelievable beauty but for your talent as well. He’s not surprised that you’re rumored to be dating Kim Seokjin, said to be this decade’s most desired leading man and who also happens to be your good friend, the one who’d helped you out a lot during your years in university. Yoongi used to be a little jealous then, something he never told you, and well, he guesses it’s meant to be with you and Seokjin now, a man he could probably never live up to. 

“Are you gonna be okay?” Geumjae breaks through his thoughts.

“Yeah. Why won’t I be?” Yoongi huffs, sinking back to his seat to watch the game that suddenly isn’t so interesting anymore. 

His question is left unanswered and his brother resumes his cheers, no doubt invested in this match that’s now tied. But Yoongi drifts in and out, his eyes following the players up and down the court then mindlessly landing on you. You’re seated in a relaxed manner, the opposite to how you used to watch his games. He sees you silently cheer for the Thunders, too, and you giggle at Taehyung when you scream louder than you intended, your hand covering your mouth as you lean on your friend and he laughs along. 

He could hear the sound of your laughter from across the gymnasium, as if the way the dulcet tone of your voice used to send shivers down his spine whenever you giggled in his ears was just yesterday. He shakes off the goosebumps he feels and tries to sit comfortably on the chair.

“Are you nervous?” Geumjae asks. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“Since when was I ever loud during a basketball game?” He shoots his brother an incredulous look. 

“You may not make a sound but your body does,” the older man points out. “I could feel you buzzing earlier and cheering in that Yoongi way of yours but now,” he eyes him up and down, “your legs are just bouncing. And you're biting your nails again.”

Yoongi catches himself. He forces his leg to be still and tucks his hand under it. It’s a tell he has, and he has no doubt that his brother has caught on. Still, he lies. “The game’s close. I want the Thunders to win.”

“Really? That’s what you’re going with?”

“Yes, now can we just focus on the game?” Yoongi chides, not wanting to confirm whatever his brother’s suspicions are. 

“Fine, but for the record, I know exactly why you’re nervous.”

“I don’t really care.”

Geumjae sighs as he watches his brother’s gaze go to you once more, unknowingly, perhaps, as Yoongi seems to shake himself off after every time he realizes that his eyes were locked on your direction. But he can’t blame the younger man. You entered his life and he fell, extremely hard, and letting you go was the most difficult thing he ever had to do. Yoongi doesn’t need to tell him though, but there’s enough of his younger brother’s broken pieces lying around for Geumjae to know that it was also something he regretted doing, and he wishes his brother was at least brave enough to admit all that.

The Thunders win by 5 points. It was nail-biting until the very end. It was Namjoon’s crucial offensive rebound and Jungkook’s 3-point shot that sealed the game for them, and Yoongi was present enough to witness those last few plays. He decides to enjoy this moment with his friends, knowing they’d be asking him about it later. If he’ll still go to the party. Somehow, seeing you again made him a little dizzy. It was still on the screen, but now he’s not sure he’ll know what to do when he sees you in person. 

He and his brother let the crowds go before heading out separately. Geumjae’s car is parked elsewhere, and Yoongi decides to head to the washroom and pace his walk to the parking lot. Hands on his pockets and eyes glued to the floor, he hears a gasp, and he releases one himself when he sees you, hiding behind one of the vending machines as a group of fans at the end of the hallways starts walking towards your direction, wondering aloud where you went. 

He sees the panicked look in your eyes and decides to stop the crowd before they come any closer. 

“She headed that way,” he announces, pointing to the right. “There’s an exit there. She probably left already.”

You hear the disappointed sighs, and much as you don’t want to let your fans down - you’re not one to deny them autographs - there have been too many of them this afternoon and you weren’t mentally prepared to accommodate each one of them. The footsteps disappear not long after and you let out a sigh of relief. That was close, but you didn’t expect Yoongi, of all people, to be the one to stir them away.

You turn to him, about to say your thanks, but somehow the words get stuck in your throat. You recall being a giddy mess the very first time you saw him, with nibbled lips and palpitating heart as you watched him shoot baskets and dribble the ball like no one’s business, and you’d been a goner since then. But he was a lot thinner during that time. His hair was cut short and his eyes had this sharp, confident gaze that usually intimidated people. You eventually saw how they softened only for you, though, but you’ll always remember that summer and how he had you wanting him at first glance. 

This man before you isn’t all that different. He still has the same sharp eyes, with his look penetrating right through your soul like he knows you and well, he does, which is also why he was quick to misdirect the crowd after he perhaps saw the look of worry on your face. His tiny nose is the same, so is his pale skin. But his hair is now long, pushed back in the middle as it softly reaches close to his shoulders. He’s a lot leaner; you can easily tell from what’s hiding behind his thin white shirt underneath his blue jacket. You recall him dressing mostly in monotone colors, so seeing him in something a little more striking is new. He’s gorgeous just like before, and you don’t really know why you expected that he wouldn’t render you speechless this time around.

“___,” he calls out. “Were they bothering you?”

“No, uh…” you stutter, hating yourself for suddenly being nervous. “There were just too many of them and they were getting quite close, I kind of panicked. Stupid, really. I should be used to it by now. More of them came and I just…”

“If they were invading your personal space then that’s not right,” he says, his tone so serious you mistake it for worry. “Did they touch you or anything?”

“Oh no! Nothing like that. I just got a bit overwhelmed.”

“Where’s Taehyung?” He asks, as you watch him walk to the vending machine where you’re hiding, tap his card, and then get the bottled water that falls out. He opens it and hands it to you as if he’d done this so many times before, and well, he actually has.

“He met up with a couple of friends,” you explain. “The crowd got to me right after and I kinda lost him, but I told him I’ll meet him outside, somewhere near where the players come out.”

“Hmm, okay,” Yoongi hums, looking away. 

He should’ve expected you to look way more beautiful up close but he tends to underestimate his ability to be entranced by you. He’s surprised he even got any word out, but the worry crept in the moment he saw you look a little winded and he just wanted to make sure you were alright. You’re a celebrity, after all, and the city’s “Princess,” as they claim. 

You look a little nervous though, and a part of him just wants to scold Taehyung for leaving you behind, seeing as neither of you looked like you had security with you earlier. But that shouldn’t be his responsibility anymore, he reminds himself. 

“Thanks for the water, by the way,” you speak up. “How much was it?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks again,” you smile shyly. “So, uhm, do you know where the other exit is? I’m kind of lost.”

“Oh, uh… the one close to where the players go out is there,” he cocks his head to the left, towards a hallway behind swinging doors. “I can uh, I can show you where.”

“Ah, that would be great. Did you park close there, too?”

No.

“Yeah,” he lies. “Let’s go before more people see you.”

He opens the door and walks after you. It doesn’t help that the hallway suddenly feels much smaller and closed off because now, Yoongi has to listen to your footsteps and nothing else, since neither one of you chooses to talk. 

What does he say to the woman he broke up with 6 years ago? Maybe he can say something about your recently concluded series. He thought it was really good. Is it weird to ask what your next project is? Perhaps. You probably can’t even tell him. How was it like being the leading lady this time? Fuck, he’s not a talk show host or anything like that. 

He sees the end of the hallway before his mind can come up with another stupid question, and he rushes to the door before you do, catching you by surprise. 

“Just wanted to make sure there’s no one to bother you,” he explains, as you exit the building with questioning eyes. 

“Oh, thanks,” you smile shyly again. 

He’s not used to it. He remembers the way your eyes used to gaze at him constantly, how your smile and laughter were all cheeky and flirty, how the tone of your voice was always so confident, so charming. He thinks that maybe like him, you’re just as surprised and unsure about seeing each other after so long. He doesn’t know what to make of things beyond that.

“Do you have someone to pick you up?” he asks, needing to prepare himself if, as a last resort, he’d need to drive you somewhere.

“Yeah, Tae and I were supposed to ride together but,” you pause, checking your phone for your best friend’s text message, “he rode off with his friends and said he’d meet me at Jungkook’s instead so I’m just waiting for the guys. There’s the—”

Party, Yoongi says in his head.

“___!” Jungkook’s loud voice cuts you off. He jogs up to you and puts an arm around your shoulders, unaware of the man in front of you who’s being blocked by a wall. “You ready to go? Tae said he went ahead.”

Yoongi makes his presence known with a low grunt, his eyes pacing from his friend to you. You both look a lot closer than he remembers, and Yoongi’s mind goes to that first time you all met, how Jungkook had announced during their team celebration that the “girl with the yellow scarf on her hair is so pretty” and that he’d wanted to ask you out. Of course, things turned out differently - you weren’t interested in the younger man. But that was years ago. Jungkook has had an impressive professional career and he lives in Seoul. Maybe things have changed for you.

You follow Yoongi’s eyes. Despite many people claiming that he’s difficult to read because of the default unconcerned, almost detached look he has for every situation, you think he’s actually pretty transparent. 

Or maybe that’s just you. You’ve spent enough time with him to know his sound of annoyance and the meaning of his body language. You’ve memorized that pretty face of his at one point that you can tell the slightest parting of his lips and the tiniest drop of his eyes, which could mean that he’s confused, sad, or disappointed. Maybe all.

“Oh, we’re not…” you exclaim, surprising yourself, to the amusement of Namjoon, who suddenly appears next to you. “I mean, Jungkook and I aren’t… a thing.”

You promptly remove the man’s arm from your shoulder and try to decipher Yoongi’s look now. Is it relief? Does he believe you? Does he think it’s silly that you had to clarify that, which you’re wondering why you did?

“Okay,” Yoongi says. 

Perhaps you’re wrong. You can’t tell right now what he’s feeling.

“We just… got to hanging out when I got drafted by the Thunders,” Jungkook now clarifies, which he quickly realizes is maybe making this awkward situation a lot worse. 

You’re Yoongi’s ex-girlfriend after all, and Jungkook had been the one to reach out to you when he moved to Seoul, but not once did he try to pursue you all these years. He respects his captain too much and cares for what you both had, which is why he maintained his friendship with you even after the breakup.  

“That’s nice to know,” Yoongi replies, his tone nonchalant like always.

He’s glad he can keep his cool that well, even if his heart was just about to explode at the thought of you possibly dating his friend. He doesn’t know why he cares, though, as he never really thought much about the so-called code that stated that exes were off-limits to friends. 

He’s just about to turn around when Namjoon calls out. “Min, you’re still going to the party, right?”

Yoongi looks at you, who promptly looks away. Up until 10 minutes ago, he was about 80% sure he would. He didn’t think that being in close proximity to you would make him remember all sorts of things, and that itself is enough for him to run for the hills and avoid you. He won’t claim he did his best to forget about you - he at least tried, and that still counts - but he didn’t expect he’d ever get a chance to be near you, much less talk to you and be in the same place as you. Again. 

But he looks at his friends’ eyes, both pairs unsure yet practically begging him to still go. He remembers these looks, and he swears it’s because he doesn’t want to let both of them down that he battles with the inner part of himself and decides to still go. It definitely doesn’t have anything to do with somehow finding out for how long you’re staying, and why you’re here in the first place. 

“Yeah. I’ll see you guys there,” he replies, turning around now and heading towards his car on the opposite side of the parking lot. 

You watch Yoongi walk away, unsure of why your heart is beating as fast as it is. It had been like that since you saw him after hiding from the fans, and even more so when you walked silently in the hallway to head outside. 

You knew you were gonna see him, maybe even at the party, but not in the way you did. And all your confidence at not being bothered or affected with seeing him again melts away. 

You weren’t prepared for how good he’d look, for how concerned he’d be over your safety, and for that hint of disappointment on his face at the thought of you being with Jungkook. Neither were you prepared for that incredibly tiny part of you that wants to know how he’s doing and if he’d managed to piece together the broken parts of himself and his dream that he so adamantly chose over you.

You survive the car ride by glaring at Namjoon every time he starts teasing you about panicking over Yoongi thinking that you were dating Jungkook, while the latter curses as he drives, claiming he survived one of the scariest moments of his life. 

You arrive in Jungkook’s house in half an hour, a nice place he bought for himself because he said that Daegu will always be home for him. The sliding doors to the patio give it a spacious feel, and you see that a couple of his friends had already prepped the space, complete with beer kegs and beer pong tables, the way you remember they always used to party.      

The 3 of you spot Taehyung who greets you, and the 2 men next to you proceed to narrate what happened, to your best friend’s shock and amusement. You also fill all of them in with the first part of the story about Yoongi finding you as you hid away from the crowd.

“How… symbolic,” Namjoon hums. “You meet at a basketball court in Daegu after a game while you were hiding from fans because you’re such a bigtime actress now. I mean, it’s quite ironic. The universe is out to tease you or something.”

You agree, it is. It’s times like this when you wish you didn’t believe in fate and destiny because doing so would just give you false hope that you and Yoongi may be meant for more than just those 2 years together. And you absolutely hate it because you can’t fall into that trap of thinking that you’re meant for a happy ending that includes him. That ship sailed a long time ago - 6 years and about 5 partners later.

But as Yoongi enters the house, his bowed head turning up to search the area before daintily tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, you start to think that maybe that ship decided to turn back around and sail towards you once again. He briefly meets your eyes before someone calls out to him, and you’re left to admire him from afar, cute button nose and impeccable side profile and all. 

Taehyung pulls you by the arm and whispers in your ear. “Okay, so what’s our plan?”

“What do you mean, our plan?” You ask, realizing you’ve lost Yoongi as you glance in the direction of where he was, no longer finding him there. “Plan for what?”

“Yoongi, obviously,” Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Do we avoid him, be civil, pretend you don’t think about him anymore, or act like the past 8 years didn’t happen and we don’t actually know him?”

“None of the above,” you groan. “What kinds of options are those?”

“Decent ones?”

“Nope. You’ve already had a lot to drink and I don’t trust you when you’re drunk.”

“Except you should. This is when I don’t hold back when it comes to you,” Taehyung answers.

“And you hold back otherwise?” You frown. 

“Just when it’s about him. It was tough for a long time. I know sometimes it still is.”

You don’t have the heart to disagree. This man has been your best friend for a decade and he knows how you are, knows which pains of yours you’re willing to talk about and which ones you’d rather hide away. Your acting skills may be good but you know that Taehyung can see behind all the smiles and the detachment and the effort to look okay, and whatever it is he’s thinking, there’s a good chance he might be right. You’ve just never been brave enough to admit them. 

The look of understanding you both share gets disrupted when cheers erupt in the middle of the living room, seeing that Seungkwan had just beaten Jungkook in beer pong. The pro player demands a rematch and the entire house cheers in agreement. Jungkook takes the next game but Seungkwan won’t back down. 

“Let’s do it in pairs,” he challenges. “I take Joon.”

“Fine,” Jungkook says, his game face on, knowing there’s one other person he knows could win this with him. “I take the Captain.”

Cheers erupt once more as people push Yoongi to the center where the rest of the guys are. He shakes his head, seemingly uninterested in partaking in tonight’s festivities but goes anyway after much coaxing from everyone. He then does his handshake with Jungkook to the younger man’s insistence, and you watch Yoongi’s soft, shy smile appear. 

And just like the very first time you saw that, you feel your heart thrum in excitement. There was always something special about it, and back then it was because he rarely did it, but he did it a lot when he was with you. It’s nice to see it during a moment like this - surrounded by his old friends while having fun with them. You’re glad he shows more of it now, and you wonder how many people fell harder for him because of it. 

You watch from the sideline as the Jungkook-Yoongi pair score 4 straight. Seungkwan complains that Namjoon isn’t making any shots, prompting the older man to claim that he’s way better at dunking than shooting tiny balls like they’re jumpers. They eventually lose after all the theatrics but it’s enough to get the guests going, as you find yourself teasing both men as well. 

You remember their house parties being this rowdy and this loud, given all the energy and testosterone that these athletes had so much of. That obviously hasn’t changed, and despite all of them having grown up, looking all mature and much more respectable, the naughtiness remains, especially once they’ve had too much to drink. 

It’s why you find yourself surrounded by a bunch of the guys, asking for a photo with you to show off to their friends and families. 

“I’m showing this to the guys at the office,” Seungkwan announces as he gets your approval over the selfie picture he took of you both. “They’re not gonna believe I went to college with an actress.”

“Uh, I didn’t go to college with you,” you laugh along with the others. “I studied in Seoul.”

“Then how the fuck do we know you?” He exclaims, no doubt drunk out of his mind at this point. You remember him having a short-term memory every time.

“He’s the Captain’s ex, dumbo!” Soon-young reminds him, another one of the younger guys who hasn’t drank as much but was never good at knowing what not to say. “Remember the summer before his final year? She was with us all the time.”

“Oh right. They were inseparable and looked so in love,” Seungkwan giggles, and at this point, the rest of the people just go with what he’s saying. 

Not you though, neither does Yoongi, and neither does Namjoon, who slaps the back of Seungkwan’s head to loud-whisper that the ex-couple in question is right there.

“Shit, did they hear me?” Seungkwan wonders out loud and looks around before sipping his beer. “I meant it though.”

He laughs drunkenly, so do many others. There’s really only a handful of you who aren’t intoxicated, but right now you wish you were. 

“Wait, they’re both here?” Seungkwan recovers, eyes now glassy. 

He gasps when his gaze turns to you and then Yoongi, and he puts his arm over your shoulder and slightly drags you to the right so he could put his arm over Yoongi, too.

“I found them!” Seungkwan squeals, pushing both of you to face him. “Shit, you still look good together.”

“Alright, dude, that’s enough,” Namjoon finally steps in, pulling the inebriated man away. “Sorry,” he turns to you. “Don’t mind anything he said.”

Too late, you want to say, but you release an awkward laugh instead. 

“They haven’t changed since college, huh,” Yoongi says, surprising you. “They still put us on the spot then leave us to deal with the aftermath,” he continues, watching as the group disperses to go drink and chat again. 

You turn towards him and sigh in relief over the small smile he has on. You swear the tension was so thick earlier that you could cut it with a knife, but Yoongi doesn’t seem bothered. He looks calm like he always does, and just like those first few times, you take your cue from him. You try to release the tension from your body and smile. 

“They should be banned from drinking when there are ex-lovers in the building,” you chuckle. “But I’m pretty sure he’ll be apologizing to you like crazy once he’s sober. Wish I could see that.”

“I can’t wait for that, too,” Yoongi hums. 

A wave of silence envelopes you both. The sounds of your friends seem like white noise now, and with the background music on and the man next to you just sipping his drink, it’s oddly comforting. 

You learned long ago that he has this amazing ability to do that - make people around them feel calm. There’s something so reassuring about him that remarks about your past don’t faze him, and now that’s rubbing off on you, as you feel the awkwardness slowly melt away.

You and Yoongi stand by the couch while the world around you continues. You’d stay in this bubble with him if it wasn’t so familiar, only because the familiarity scares you a little. You don’t want to know if anything else feels the same.

“I’m gonna look for Tae,” you say, breaking the silence. 

You only need to look to your left at the sound of someone hooting to find your best friend downing another cup of some concoction, and by the sound of his laugh, you know this is the one that will do it for him. This is his point of no return. Anything he does after is not meant for many people to see; he has an image to protect, after all.

“Alright, that’s my cue,” you say, walking towards him. 

You cup Taehyung’s face in your hands and tell him that the party’s over and you’ll take him home. He argues, but you remind him that he’s a celebrity and that he can’t have drunk pictures of him circulating online. His inebriated mind sort of gets it, and you take him in your arms and start looking around, trying to see which of the guys are the most stable one to drive.

“How are you going home?”

“Uh…” you turn to face Yoongi. “One of… them? Jungkook, Wooz, Soon-young all offered.”

“And they’ve all had a lot to drink,” he replies.

“Who here hasn’t?” You chuckle, eyes still searching the room. You don’t want to ask your safest option, which is the man in front of you. You’re not quite sure how your heart can handle that. 

“Me,” he says so casually. “I just had one bottle.” 

You know what he means, even more when he goes to Taehyung’s side to help you assist your drunk best friend. Yoongi doesn’t say anything else though; he just stands there while waiting for your reply. This is about safety, you remind yourself, and it has nothing to do with suddenly wanting to be in his presence just a little longer.

“Okay,” you reply, knowing he knows what you mean, too.

“Okay.”

All three of you say goodbye to your friends, all of whom give you smug looks, passing up on the teasing now given Yoongi’s displeased face after someone remarks that “mom and dad are taking care of their kid again.” This isn’t a new scene for them, either. Taehyung just tends to have a lot of genuine fun when he’s with his friends; it’s something you relate with after being in the industry you’re in.

You and Yoongi help Taehyung in the backseat where you sit, with your best friend’s head securely on your lap because he’s now complaining of a migraine. Your designated driver starts the car shortly after he checks on both of you. 

“Neither of you took your cars?” He asks.

“Tae did but passed up on driving tonight,” you say. “I would’ve driven, had I known he won’t be able to control himself. I’m still waiting for my requested rental car.”

Yoongi merely hums and focuses on the road while you… well, while you sort of focus on him. Your position behind the passenger seat allows you a view from the side - from how his fingers drum the steering wheel to how he nibbles his lips. His eyes are focused on the road but you can tell he’s focused on both of you, too, with the way he turns to the back whenever Taehyung makes some garbled sound or just to ask you if you’re okay. 

You watched him do this so many times before with you next to him, holding his hand and kissing his cheek at every stoplight. For someone who loves music, he never put the radio on when he drove you. He said it allowed him to focus on you, and that memory isn’t one that you really want to think of right now, especially since it’s silent in the car. You don’t know which ones you’d rather remember, though - the good ones or the bad. You suppose either would hurt regardless, and this wasn’t something that you prepared for. 

You make it to your best friend’s house as you and Yoongi assist him to the gate to Mrs. Kim’s shock. She scolds a barely-awake Taehyung and apologizes profusely to Yoongi, who says she’s happy to see him in their home once again. As Mr. Kim takes his son up to his room, Yoongi turns to you and asks if you need a ride home.

“I’m sleeping over,” you say in a panic. “Someone’s got to take care of his drunk ass.”

“Okay,” Yoongi says, briefly meeting your eyes before nodding towards his car. “I’ll go ahead. It was nice seeing you again, ___.”

They’re simple words that any old friend would tell another after seeing them in years, but somehow they hit you differently. This entire evening hasn’t been a dream or some made up scenario in your head where you meet the man you loved after so long. 

He’s here. With you. Looking at you in a way you’re very unfamiliar with - with a calmness in his eyes and a hint of care and acceptance, as if he’s glad you’re here but that he’s well aware of the years between you, of the years that passed by, of the years that changed you both. 

You don’t respond fast enough because before you know it, he’s turning around, ready to head out the door.

“It was nice seeing you, too, Yoongi,” you say softly. 

But he hears it, stops walking for a while, and then opens the door and walks out. 

You wonder if he’d said something the day you left, would you have stopped and turned around? Or would you have kept walking?  

But thinking about that won’t do you any good, so you turn away as well and head upstairs.

Outside, Yoongi steps on the gas, turns to the next corner, and then stops the car. He clasps his hands together so they’d stop shaking, and he lets himself breathe for the first time tonight. He’s kept his cool long enough, but after everything - the party, the teasing, the car ride - he doesn’t think he can hold the emotions in any longer, and he doesn’t even know what they are. 

Longing? Sadness? Regret? Is it the unspeakable feeling of fear at the thought of you dating one of his friends who might actually be good for you? Is it relief at the idea that letting you go was the best thing that he could’ve ever done for you? Is it confusion over wanting so badly to take you in his arms but not wanting to feel your touch, knowing it would remind him of everything he’s tried to forget? 

Yoongi lays his head on the headrest and takes a breath. You’re so beautiful, as if some light shines on you wherever you go. It’s probably the glow you emit; he’s told you that before but you always said he was just teasing. He sees it even more now. 

But it’s also the crinkle of your eyes when you smile that sweet smile of yours that makes things feel familiar, and because of that, uneasy. It’s that honey sound of your voice; he heard it as you laughed during the party and joked around with everyone. It’s that captivating look you have, the one that says you know something but you want to know more; he felt that look when he entered the house and as he drove you earlier. 

He wonders if you saw past him, past his nonchalance and calm demeanor. You were always so good at that - knowing there was more behind his passiveness, knowing how to get a reaction from him, knowing which buttons to push so he’d open up and let you in. 

He doesn’t know if he should be afraid that you still know how to do it, or if he should revel in it because he’s missed you, more than he could ever say and more than he’d ever care to admit. 

But beyond all that, he’s sure that one of his emotions is happiness. Every time you talked about work and being able to watch yourself on screen - he swears he didn’t eavesdrop but that he just happened to be there - there was that excitement that felt like the continuation from when you used to talk about your big dreams with him. 

You got what you wanted and you worked hard to get to where you are and he knows you’re proud of yourself and that’s all he’s ever wanted. Seeing that smile - he knows. Letting you go was the best thing he’s ever done for you.

“What are you doing here?”

Taehyung’s hoarse voice forces your eyes off the ceiling onto your side where he’s currently hugging his pillow, messy hair and pouty lips on display. 

“Trying to get some rest after I saved your drunk ass last night,” you bitterly respond. “I got to you before any compromising photos or videos were taken. You’re welcome.”

“Hmm, thanks,” he groans. “But uh, why are you here? Didn’t you say you wanted proper rest in your house before seeing your family today?”

“Right, uh… you see. Yoongi drove us here, and then he asked if I wanted a ride home but I kinda panicked and said I’m sleeping over so… Here I am!” You laugh, unconvincingly. “My rental car’s on the way here. I’ll drive to my house and then go to my dad’s.”

“Ugh, you’re so dumb,” he says, sinking into his comforter. You gasp in response. “That was your chance to be alone with him but you didn’t take the offer. We both know you wanted to.”

“Tae, being drunk and not holding anything back doesn’t mean you can just assume things like that,” you respond, sitting up and frowning at him. “I didn’t want to be alone with him, that’s why I’m here!”

“Why didn’t you want to be alone with him?” He answers back.

“Uhm, why would I want to?” You ask incredulously. “Since when was getting in a car alone with an ex ever a good idea?”

“Why? You’re afraid you’d kiss him if you did?”

You scowl at your best friend. “I should’ve left you there drunk with possible penis drawings on your face.”

“Just being honest. It’s not like you’ve never done that with him before,” he shrugs. 

“I hate you.”

“I know. But you’ll love me later on. At least I’m still half asleep.”

You push him awake, the stress heightening now as the previous night plays in your head. 

“Tae! What happened to my hi, goodbye plan?!” You groan. “I was literally just supposed to say hi and then be civil, like, acknowledge his presence but not be affected by it. But then we had some small talk and he drove us home.”

“We all know it was a denial plan,” he huffs. “It was bound to fail.”

“Gee, thanks. You’re being incredibly helpful right now,” you frown again. 

“Fine,” he grumbles, sitting now. “You had small talk, he drove you here. How are those affecting you and why are you making it a big deal?”

“I’m not making it a big deal,” you point out. 

“You kinda are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You are because that’s how things started before. And you’re afraid that one small misstep will cause you to fall for him all over again, fast and hard, because that’s how you are when it comes to him.”

“You’re hungover and tired so your judgment is impaired,” you say, crossing your arms. “You remember what happened after all that. I’ll be perpetually grateful that you never pushed me to talk about it unless I was drunk and couldn’t remember things but I was heartbroken, Tae. And then I was numb. It took a while before I started to feel again.”

“I know,” he says, taking you in his arms now as he holds you like a baby - a rare occurrence, as this often happens the other way around. “And I can never fault you for it because even if it was like that summer fling that only happened in the movies, I know you loved him, genuinely and intensely, and a love like that stays with you. But he’s got a good life here, ___, and you’ve got an amazing one in Seoul. You just have to remember why it didn’t work out in the first place and make sure you don’t fall into that trap again. Just… acknowledge that. For your sake. And then do what you need to do so you don’t make the same mistakes again.”

Enveloped in his warmth, you take in your best friend’s words. He may still be hungover and may also be confused but his comfort never seizes, and it’s one of the reasons why you love him dearly. 

“So yeah, good on you I guess for not taking that ride with him. Maybe staying away and keeping your distance might be good,” he adds.

Your silence somehow alarms him, so he nudges you. “It’s a good idea, right?”

“I don’t know. Suddenly I feel like staying away and keeping my distance will let him know that it still affects me. He’ll always know me like that,” you sigh, hugging him tightly for more comfort. “And there’s this part of me that wants to show him that I’m fine, you know?  That even with everything that happened between us, I walked away from it knowing what I deserve, and that’s someone who’ll fight through life with me. He didn’t and that’s on him but he had his reasons, and looking back, maybe he was right. Maybe he had to let me go, and maybe - because I loved him genuinely and intensely - I want to show him that it wasn’t all in vain. And that I’m happy. Even without him.”

“You don’t need to prove anything to him, you know?”

Maybe I want to prove it to myself, you don’t say. There’s a stubbornness in you that doesn’t go away. 

“This isn’t about him, is it?” Taehyung levels his head with you. 

For someone hungover, he still knows you pretty well. 

You just sigh and fall back in his arms. He doesn’t push you. He just hugs you again until you both fall back in bed and he can comfortably curl his body all over you because it’s Taehyung and he likes to do this. 

“Just be careful, alright?” He pleads. 

“You know I also kinda don’t have a choice,” you reply. “It’s a small town and we’re bound to see each other. Jungkook and Namjoon have a game here again in a few weeks and that means another get together.”

“Yeah, but you know what I mean.”

You hum. “Promise me you’ll be by my side whatever happens?”

“Always, you stubborn woman. I’m the one person who’ll never leave you even if you push me away.”

The lunch with your family is how you expect it to go - with your older sisters making some backhanded comments about your fame and how you’ve been “too busy” to even visit, and your father trying to dissolve the tension. He’s at least genuinely curious about how you’ve been, asking if you’re eating well and getting enough rest. Your stepmom raves about your drama series and shares that she cried during the finale.

“Why did he have to go back to his planet?” Garam’s 7-year old asks after your stepmom narrates what happened. 

“His time on earth was up,” you explain. “He finished his mission and he had to leave.”

“But why didn’t he stay if he was happy?” 

“Because he had a responsibility in his home,” you smile. “He wasn’t made for this world.”

“He didn’t have a choice, sweetie,” Garam adds after her daughter comments that it was sad. “That’s understandable. Some people leave because they’re no longer happy with those around them. Or because their dreams are more important than those they supposedly love. Isn’t that sadder?”

“It is. Don’t leave me, Mama,” the little one pouts.

“Oh sweetie, I never will. I don’t leave people that I love,” Garam responds, glancing at you to make a statement. 

You zone out after that, not wanting to engage with your sisters anymore. You play with their kids, though, who get excited when they see you on TV. You don’t want to treat them like you hold a grudge against them even if you do so with their mothers. Your sisters continue to do that with you - resent you when it’s your mom they’re really angry at for leaving your already unhappy family after she got her dream job in Paris. You were never angry though but you did sort of follow in her footsteps, and your sisters hated you even more because of that. 

“Are you staying for dinner?” Your father asks, the hope in his eyes hurting you. 

Things weren’t going well with your parents for a while, giving your mom more reason to leave, but you always wished that he had done more for you to feel loved in the home that started to become toxic after it fell apart, but you suppose he was just trying to heal his own broken heart after his wife left. It felt like your sisters weren’t going to forgive you when you decided to leave yourself, and he just let you walk away without making sure you knew he still loved you despite your decision. 

He’s moved on now, though, and happy with someone who prioritizes him and his needs. But too much time and distance can pull people apart - you can see them without the desire of being with them. That’s the reality with you and him now and there’s not much you can do about it. 

“No, I’ve got other plans,” you respond, glancing at your sisters who return your look with bitterness. “I’ll see you at grandpa’s tomorrow.”

You drive around for half an hour with no destination in mind. It’s nice to see how much this place has changed and discover which parts of it still feel the same. 

You pass by an antique shop - the antique shop,  a generations-old family-run store that used to be the hub of imported furniture that the townspeople once flocked to. It’s now a speciality store that still sells one-of-a-kind items but it also refurbishes old pieces. You see a poster on the window that’s promoting woodworking workshops. You won’t be surprised to find out whose idea that was.

A man briefly exits, and you stop near the front, wanting to just take it in. He’s got more gray hair now and walks a little slower but he looks just like you remembered - soft crinkled eyes, comforting smile, a look that you know all too well. You decide to enter, as you’re desperate for something - anything - that feels more like home than the one you just came from. 

“May I help you?” The man asks.

“A greeting and a hug would do,” you look up at him and smile.

“___?!” He gasps, walking outside the counter to get closer to you. “Is that really you, my dear?”

“Yes it is, Mr. Min,” you smile, returning the hug that you requested. “Just passing by my favorite antique shop in town. How are you doing?”

“Great! Business is stable and I’ve still got a lot of fight in me to continue,” he chuckles. “How about you? The big city treating you good?”

“It is,” you reply. “I think I’m doing quite okay there.”

“Ah, well it should be treating you amazingly. That’s what you deserve.”

You continue the conversation, with you asking about his latest projects and him, talking about his furniture and wood like his children, pride laced in his voice every time. He asks you about your latest series and if you’ve met his favorite actors and you indulge him. His laughter is music to your ears. You remember spending time here where he worked on his pieces while you talked about your favorite movies.

“Does my son know you’re here?” He asks after a beat of silence. 

“He does. I saw him last night. He looks well.”

“He does, doesn’t he? It took a while but he’s doing much better than before - smiling, joking around, helping me at the shop, talking about basketball again. It’s nice to see.”

The words hit you in ways you didn’t expect. Breaking up with Yoongi was tough to get over. Those last few months had been incredibly hard and so many times you thought that maybe if you’d been more patient, maybe things would’ve turned out differently. 

But you remember how during those last days with him, he’d lost the glimmer in his eyes and the softness of his smile. Not even you could bring those back. His passion for things just dwindled; he stopped wanting more, stopped wanting you, stopped thinking that things could still work out for him after what he suffered through. 

You’d kept in touch with Namjoon and Jungkook at their insistence, and they’d been the one to update you on how Yoongi was doing. Not a lot of details but just general things like the jobs he took and that he was keeping himself busy and that he was trying to get back on the court. It wasn’t with unpleasant stories, though - you learned about his new girlfriend from them, and that he didn’t play basketball for awhile, and that during the toughest days, he considered giving it up altogether. 

You knew he’d done well. You learned that from the guys, too. But hearing it from his father is different; you can’t imagine how it must’ve been like for Mr. Min to see his son start to change from what he used to be. But you know that as the good father that he is, he made sure that Yoongi knew he wasn’t alone. 

“And that’s good to hear,” you say. “Yoongi deserves all the happiness this world can give. I’m glad that he’s found his joy in basketball again it seems. And that he found it here.”

“He has, but I guess something will always be missing. He’s a lot better but he’s not the same. A parent would know, you know? The flame doesn’t shine as bright,” Mr. Min answers, the tinge of sadness in his eyes hurting you a little. 

But you just nod. His words seem to mean more but you don’t want to know what it is. 

“Dad, what did you want me to look at?”

Yoongi’s voice echoes in the shop and you can’t help but turn to him who’s just entered and looks as shocked as his father was earlier. 

You have a soft smile on, and Mr. Min knows not to intervene. 

“Oh, nothing,” he says, thinking that the new wood he acquired could wait. “Just watch over the counter for me while I check something inside, alright Son?”

He doesn’t let the younger man answer and just heads to the back, leaving you and Yoongi alone. He walks closer but keeps his distance. It’s enough for you to appreciate the softness of his face, though. His presence had always been reassuring; you see him twice and you’ve felt more comfort with him than you have in months. You don’t know how he does it, but that shouldn’t surprise you anymore. This isn’t the first time anyway. 

“Is Taehyung alright?” He breaks the silence. 

“Recovering, but more from his parents giving him shit for drinking too much,” you chuckle. “He got an earful and Mrs. Kim said she won’t let him in the house next time he gets that drunk. He’s doing chores as punishment.”

“Ah, well it’s been a while. It was nice to spend time with everyone again.”

“It was,” you smile now. 

“And you? Are you okay?” He asks, sincerity laced in his low voice.

“Yeah, of course.”

It’s the hesitant nod and the way your eyes look at anything but him, and he knows that whatever happened after last night is something you want to forget or seek comfort for. So he asks.

“So what made you come here? To the shop, I mean.”

“I was driving around. It didn’t register to me right away that I was in the area,” you respond. “And this place was always so calming for me, you know? The smell of wood, your dad’s stories…” 

You. 

“So I thought I’d come in”, you continue. “He hasn’t changed. It’s nice to see him.”

Yoongi always wondered what parts of you remained the same and which parts didn’t. 

Perhaps the playfulness tempered a bit. You seem a little more anxious than he remembers, too. There’s this sophistication about you that was always too good for this small town, and he sees that even more now. Your smile is still soft but it isn’t as bright. He won’t deny that it still makes his heart race, though. 

You have a habit of going somewhere familiar to seek comfort. You always looked for it in places, he noticed - in that dingy convenience store near your school, in your town’s secondhand bookstore even if you don’t like reading, in the Opera House where you and your mom used to go to. Yoongi learns now that that hasn’t changed at all. You’re in his dad’s store, a place you always wanted to go to after spending time with your family, and he supposes that’s where you came from.

He doesn’t know if he’s still someone you find comfort in and he doesn’t know if you even want to spend time with him after all these years, but he doesn’t have the heart to just let you walk out of here not knowing if you’re truly okay. 

He hated leaving you alone then when things weren’t good. You didn’t always want to talk but you said once that just hearing him breathing on the other end of the phone or just having his hand over yours made you feel better. He may not be the right person now but he’s still someone, and that’s always better than no one.

You eye the door, ready to leave, but his call of your name prompts you to look back at him.

“Do you have somewhere to be?” He asks.

“No, not really,” you reply. 

“Would you like to grab some coffee?”

The words are familiar. You hate that you remember everything about it.

“Just coffee?” You ask, almost teasingly.

He chuckles softly and meets your eyes, and somehow a part of you thinks that you shouldn’t do this. But you’re glad he asked in the first place.

“Yes, ___. Just coffee.”

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[volturiprincess]

I Will Always be Able to Find You

Demetri x Fem reader

Warnings: Mentions of death, angst, friends to lovers, fluff A/N: This takes place before Demetri was turned but it takes place in the 15th century (I know thats not when he was turned). I made reader from a Latin heritage, its not exactly specified but the word tito and tita are mention (Its a nickname for grandpa and grandma in Spanish). Also the instrument that Demetri plays is called a Vihuela, it is said it was mostly used in Spain and Italy and develop mid 15th century but in this case it somehow got to Greece 🤷‍♀️. Also the song I used in this is called "I love you too much" from Book of Life. Here are the links if you want to hear it English or Spanish. Enjoy💙

Word Count: 2k+

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(These are just some reference pictures on what i was picturing during some scenes)

Flashback

Age 5

“You can't catch me metri!”

He is almost as fast as my brother Orion but I believe Orion is fast because he has long legs and is rather tall. Maybe if I were taller I could run fast. I kept running as fast as my little legs could carry but I felt a touch on my back. I stop running and see a blur of blonde hair run off into the distance. 

“Not fair your taller than me”

He’s only a head taller than me but he is the fastest boy in town. I chased after him as our laughter fills the atmosphere of my tita’s backyard. I love my tita’s house, there is so much space to run around, enough room to play with my best friend Demetri. He happened to be my neighbor. One day when I was sitting in the doorsteps of my house I saw another child sitting on his doorsteps like me. He looked at me and gave me a silly look, it made me giggle. I in return did a silly face and from that our friendship blossomed. We would play for hours, from fighting with sticks we found on our walk to my tita’s house, to him being a type of monster chasing after me. 

We would stay at my tita’s house while she made us her famous “chocolate caliente”, it was always freshly made. Just the scent would send me and Metri running to her little kitchen.

Age 10

Holding my breath is harder than it should be. I ran a good distance from my tita’s house to get a good hiding spot. Metri was always a good seeker, but he is also a really good hider, it would take me a while to find him. It was not until I was in tears and begging Demitri to come out of his hiding spot that I was able to find him, he would tease me saying what a baby I am. 

“How do you even find me, I thought for sure I had you”

With his sweet smile he would reply “I will always be able to find you”

He would go hunting with his dad and my older brother sometimes throughout the year, they would be gone for as long as 2 weeks. In that time I would miss him, I had no one to play with but my tita would distract me with stories and we would carve animal figures out of wood. My tito and I would do that along with Metri until he passed away. I never knew how he passed away, even as I got older my brother never told me and tita didn't tell me either. I just remember having to wear a black rebozo my brother got me from one of his trips to the other lands. Demetri was with me the whole time, he even pulled me away and we went to go play in the nearby woods.

Age 15

As me and Demitri got older we started to have more interest in other stuff. We stopped playing hide and seek but instead we would read books. My brother got us a book on constellations, he always brought us a different book each time he returned from his trips. My favorite being about flowers, actually when I got that book Demetri started calling me tulip. I ask him why once 

“Because your one in a million”

I thought he was being romantic but he said he only views me as his best friend. Since we got that book on constellations me and him would spend hours at night outside my tita’s house. My mission is to locate the Lupus constellation while Demetri wants to locate the Draco constellation. We have been searching each night for the past months, it's a bit difficult because we have no idea how to do this and we are not exactly experts. Demetri has managed to locate other constellations which I envy a bit but I can see in his eyes that he is passionate about the stars. 

The particular night of my brothers funeral, me and Demetri were as always laying in the grass but I wasn't really paying attention to the sky until Demetri exclaimed with excitement 

“Tulip look, I found the Lupus constellation, and look it's even near the Orion constellation”

I saw where he was pointing and small tears started to fall, he’s right, near the Orion constellation. It's like If my brother wanted me to find it. 

I think I might be falling for my best friend...

Age 18

Since that night I started to develop small feelings for him, feelings of wanting to be more than best friends with him. He knows me better than anyone, and with that sweet smile of his he makes me feel warm inside. But the way his voice sounds makes me want to create a bubble so only I can hear it. It's husky but sweet at the same time but what if he only sees me as a friend and just a friend? When we would go to town to buy some items for my tita I would see how the other girls our age look at him, of course he’s gorgeous, Apollo himself should envy him.

I have heard those said girls say that he is the reincarnation of the Greek god Apollo himself. I of course cannot disagree. He really is a handsome man, he is like sunshine in human form, his eyes when the sun hits them would sparkle an olive green. 

The way the ocean needs the moon, Demetri needs the sun, that's when he truly shines. His pearly white teeth are as white as the seashells we would pick at the beach. His hair almost looks made of gold, and his physique has been built nicely recently for the months of working with his dad either by the dock or how he would carry the latest kill from his hunting trip on his well built shoulders. A truly beautiful man, handcrafted by the gods indeed.

As I was getting ready for bed I heard a soft strum of a Vihuela. Music has always been a part of my life thanks to my tita, but who is playing it at such an hour? As if on cue I heard the sweet voice of my childhood best friend singing from the heart.

“I love you too much To live without you loving me back I love you too much Heaven's my witness and this is a fact”

I walk to my opened window to see him there strumming the Vihuela expertly, he looks perfect with the moonlight shining on him. I didn't even know he knew how to play it.

“I know I belong

When I sing this song

There's love above love and it's ours

'Cause I love you too much”

“I live for your touch

I whisper your name night after night

I love you too much

There's only one feeling and I know is right”

“I know I belong

When I sing this song

There's love above love and it's ours

'Cause I love you too much”

As he finished his song I wiped some small tears I didn't even realize were released, he smiled lovenly at me. I ran out of my room to where he stood and he pulled me into a soft tender kiss. His arms that were wrapped around me felt like they were meant to be there, they snapped into place like two puzzle pieces. His lips even fit perfectly against mine. When we pulled away I said to him in a soft voice

“I love you too much Demetri”

But like any fairy tale, they must end. We only got to spend one night together as one united soul because the next day he was off with his father on a grand voyage to some far out land. He tried to convince me to go with him but I said I had to watch over my tita who is already old and not in a state to be left alone. If only I went with him…

Present

Age 20

It’s been two years since I last saw Demetri, my heart has not stopped calling out to him. I catch myself humming an all too familiar tune from that night. But the words have been slowly slipping, the only phrase I can remember the rhythm to is “I love you too much”. The tears that have escaped me would be enough to create a water canal that can save the drying garden of my tita. The two of us have even moved to another town, thinking that would help me get out of this heavy cloud of sorrow but how can one forget their true love? How can someone move on when their heart calls to one person and only them?

I even have had suitors sent my way but none of them can even compare to him. He was in my life for 13 years, if only I had confessed sooner about my love for him. Maybe he would have not taken that trip and he would have stayed with me. We could have gotten married, had children, grown old, seen our children have children and then one day be buried side by side along with our other loved ones. But no, life took away the only person I truly loved, life first took my parents, then my tito, then my brother and now Demetri.

Oh Demetri…It hurts to say his name sometimes. Everywhere I go, I'm reminded of the man who has my heart. Nobody knew what happened, there were speculations that maybe everyone on that ship was killed at sea. But can someone explain to me, what do I take for the sorrow? My body walks alone, my soul went with him the minute he left but it's not his fault why I feel like this, I just never got used to the feeling of being separated from him. 

I would sit at my balcony every night hoping for some miracle that he would be there on the pavement smiling up at me like that night. At night is when that song plays in my head the most, how his voice felt like a spell. Sometimes I think that he never existed, that he was a figment of my imagination. I like to believe I'm still dreaming and when I wake up he will be there with the sun hitting him, making his irises basically glow a lighter shade of olive green. But that only hurts more when I wake up and I'm faced with the hard reality. 

Even if he somehow came back, how will he find me? I moved to another town, it took about three days to get here. I missed my old town, the memories I have built there with Demetri is everything I have of him. As of now I am getting ready for bed in slow manner, it's not my favorite part of the day because that is when I am truly alone with my own thoughts and feelings. And once again I am humming to the line of our song. I try to remember the rest to it when suddenly I hear once again the voice of an angel with the Vihuela accompanying said voice

“I know I belong When I sing this song There's love above love and it's ours 'Cause I love you too much”

Can it be? Do my ears deceive me? I run to my balcony but don't see him yet until I hear our song change chorus a bit.

“Heaven knows your name, I've been praying To have you come here by my side Without you, a part of me is missing Just to make you my own, I will fight”

My eyes widen at the sight of him, dressed in foreign robes with the moonlight hitting him perfectly as always. My true love is there singing once again.

“I know I belong When I sing this song There's love above love and it's ours 'Cause I love you too much”

He walks up my little steps to my balcony as he’s still singing, up close I can see the face I've been dreaming of for the past two years. His eyes still sparkle but wait they aren't that olive green I love so much, no they're red instead. 

“I love you too much I love you too much Heaven's my witness and this is a fact You live in my soul Your heart is my goal There's love above love and it's mine 'cause I love you There's love above love and it's yours 'cause I love you There's love above love and it's ours if you love me As much”

As he finished the song he was already in front of me with his sweet smile he would give me since we were children. He wiped away my tears and he pulled me into an all too familiar kiss, full of love and tenderness. But it's slightly different. His lips are cold this time, nevertheless his lips feel like home, I know I belong to him.

We pull away, instead of asking where he was or what happened to him I ask 

“How did you find me?”

“I will always be able to find you my love”

Just with that we are now able to spend forever as it was always meant to be. 

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A/N: I hope you enjoyed it, this one is hands down my favorite one, the song I used is so sweet, well I think the Spanish version is better in my opinion.

[shubblelive]

— BOTTOM DRAWER

summary : wilbur needs a haircut. you're more than happy to oblige, even if he does take some convincing.

genre : fluff

warnings : wilbur makes a joke about reader stabbing him with scissors

pairing : cc!wilbur soot x reader

pronouns : none (you/yours)

featuring : cc!wilbur soot

requested : in your fic source material it was mentioned that y/n had given wilbur a haircut before, and then at the end she says that he needs to get a haircut (im telling you these things as if you didn’t write it lmao). anyways, i think a little fic where y/n gives wilbur a haircut would be really cute :)

word count : 952

note : hi angel!! i tried to make this as different as i could from the scene in the fic you mentioned and i hope you like it!! thank you for requesting!!

inspiration struck at odd times. you’d become well accustomed to that in the time you’d been dating wilbur, sometimes waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of a muffled guitar coming from the living room. 

you knew that music consumed wilbur’s thoughts daily. his routine consisted of wake up, think about music, think about you, write music, think about you, think about music and, if you were especially lucky, he’d think about you once more before bed. 

music was wilbur’s first love, you were more than aware. but he’d made sure you knew that you were his greatest, and that was all that mattered. 

the last few months of his life had been dedicated to that first love of music, and, unfortunately for his ‘greatest’ that meant wilbur had been forgoing certain self-care activities.

he was pressing gentle kisses on your cheeks, skirting around your lips as you giggled, trying to chase him. it had been a long week, and even getting to kiss you once had been a luxury with how busy you both had been, let alone getting to sit with you. your back pressed against the side of the couch, the rest of you a tangled mess with the rest of him as he relaxed into your hold for the first time in what felt like ages.

your palms were flush against his cheeks, feeling the warmth radiating out of his skin. wilbur went to press his forehead to yours but was interrupted by your spluttering coughs. 

he pulled away, concern pulling at his mouth. “you alright?”

you coughed, turning your face away from his, bringing your hand up to cover your mouth. “this has gone too far,”

“what’s wrong?” wilbur sat back on his heels, taking your hands in his. “are you okay?”

“your hair is too long,” you said decidedly, standing up and pulling him along with you. “this is getting out of hand.”

wilbur laughed as you dragged him towards the kitchen. “what are you doing?”

you turned, running your thumbs over his knuckles. you let his fingers go just long enough to brush the excess hair out of his eyes. he softened under your touch and squeezed your hand, his free one coming up to rub the spot right beneath your ear. “i thought you liked my hair?”

you let him go, pulling a stool from the other side of the counter and dragging it beside the refrigerator. “i do,” you assured him, throwing him a look over your shoulder as you wandered down the hallway. wilbur waited dutifully in his assigned seat while you were out of the room, running a hand through his curls. they were truly getting unruly, he could understand why you wanted him to get a haircut. he shuffled, grabbing his phone out to book an appointment when you returned, his least favourite towel in your hand. “but, i like your face more.”

he nodded towards the towel. “finally getting rid of that thing?”

you hugged it close to your chest. “never. i’ll never understand your resentment towards it.”

“it scratches!”

“you just don’t understand it like i do.” you huffed, laughing gently. you noticed the phone in his hand, giving him a quizzical look. “what’s that for?”

“i was gonna call in, book myself a haircut,” he said, turning the phone around to show you.

you took it out of his hand, putting it face down on the bench. “no need!” you beamed at him, draping the towel over his shoulder and pulling the kitchen scissors out, giving them a snip for emphasis. “that’s what i’m here for.”

he gave you a nervous glance, squinting slightly. “are you a licensed professional?” he asked seriously, trying to ward off the smile breaking out over his face. 

“of course,” you said, offence laced in your tone. “i’ve got four year’s experience looking at your face. i know what it’s meant to look like.”

“so you know that it’s meant to be wound-free?” he clarified. you gave him a look and he conceded. “it’s not that i don’t trust you, darling, i just…” he sighed, finally letting the smile take over his face, swinging your connected hands back and forth. “this haircut is gonna be all over the internet for like, four to six months, so i just worry.”

“i cut my own hair all the time, wilbur.” you raised your eyebrows. if it really made him uncomfortable, then of course you’d let him go to a professional, but you couldn’t lie and say the idea of delving your hands into his hair wasn’t appealing. 

that seemed to convince him. “you do have lovely hair.”

you beamed down at him and suddenly it was a done deal, if it made you smile like that. 

the feeling of your hands in his hair made him close his eyes, his head resting on your leg as you, perched on the bench, worked on the other side of his head. it took nearly an hour - the guy had a lot of hair - but when you were done he smiled up at you. “how do i look?”

you considered him. “you’re okay with the camera only facing this side of you right?” you poked his cheek. he laughed loudly, taking the scissors out of your hand and dumping them in the kitchen sink. you hopped off the counter, kicking some loose hair up with your socked foot. “i’m sure we have glue somewhere, right?”

he pulled you closer by the hips as he stood up, planting a kiss on your forehead. you let the joke go, bringing your hands to ruffle his hair. 

he kissed you gently. “it's in the bottom drawer.”

[malfoylust]

malfoy manor ༉‧₊˚✧

draco malfoy smut

oral sex [fem receiving] | draco fluff / we love a consent king | ice cream foreplay??

You think you are going to the malfoy manor to study but draco wants to show you what real passion is. no interruptions…just you and him alone. you’re going to experience the greatest pleasure you will ever know. [just imagine HIS HANDS all over your body]

⋆*･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

You and draco have been studying in his bedroom for the hours. Snape has a defense against the dark arts exam coming up and you are struggling. Draco knew you were struggling in snape’s class so he offered to tutor you.

(You are sitting with your legs crossed on Draco’s bed, while draco sits in a chair at his desk)

You slam the books down on his comforter. (So soft. You would love to get comfy in his bed WITH him…if you know what I mean)

You sighed and looked across the room where draco was reviewing notes at his desk.

“Why cant I understand this. I’m going to fail.”

Your eyes started to slowly fill with tears, as you got more frustrated with yourself.

Draco motioned for you to come over to him.

You want to make out with him so badly, but you don’t know if he likes you like that. In your mind you’re just a girl draco is forced to Tudor. You don’t think there’s anything special there.

You walk over to draco and rested your hand on his desk and shrugged. “I just don’t know what else to do.”

“Why don’t you get a snack and take a break. I have something in mind that may help ease your stress,” Draco said.

As your mind raced with all the possibilities you had in mind, your face was flushed. You turned away quickly and walked to the kitchen.

༻¨*:·.

You found a pint of ben and jerries ice cream in the freezer.

As you sat at the dining room table eating ice cream, you feel cold finger tips on your neck, moving your hair to the other side of your neck.

You shiver as you hear a familiar voice whisper in your ear, “don’t worry love. I feel those things for you too”

Your face gets red and hot as you hear his voice again.

“You want to share?”

You feel your chair move back and see draco walk in front of you, looking down at you. He is standing over you.

[I cant get over his height. He’s so fine]

Your eyes drop from his eyes to see his white collared shirt is completely unbuttoned, revealing his bare chest and abs.

Draco grabs a spoon and dips it into the ice cream you are holding and takes a bite.

You bite your lip, as you watch him suck the ice cream off the spoon.

He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you. You dip your spoon into the ice cream and stand up.

“You’re beau-“ draco is cut off by you sliding ice cream from his mouth, down to his chest…his abs.

You feel him grab your hand, making you drop your spoon on the ground.

“Kiss me draco,” you whisper seductively.

You feel malfoys lips clash into yours. You wrap your arms around his neck as he picks you up.

(Your legs wrapping around his waist)

.·:*¨༺

He carried you back to his room and placed you on his bed.

You let out a soft moan as malfoy started to gently kiss your neck.

As his big hands caressed your hips, he unbuttons your blouse, revealing your bralette.

Almost out of breath, you say, “I want you to go down on me dra-“

You gasped as malfoy leaves trails of wet kisses down your neck, down your breasts, down to your bare stomach.

Once you feel his hot breath at your stomach you gasped and tell him to stop.

(He can tell you were a little insecure about him being so close to your stomach)

Draco hovered over you, with his face over yours.

His gorgeous blonde hair resting above his grey eyes.

[ugh he’s so cute. I can picture him right now ugh]

He smirked, “you don’t have to hide from me. Let me make you feel special.”

You nodded, “okay”

He continued and you helped him unclip your bra.

As he left love bites down your breast and stomach, you feel his hands gently pull down your pants…

You help him take off your pants as you feel his warm breath get closer to your pulsing pussy, just waiting to be mouth fucked.

You tilt your head back, eager for draco to suck your clit.

You watch as draco pulls down your underwear.

“Are you wet for me, my sweet dove?” Malfoy bites his lip while looking up at you.

“Are you sure?” He asks.

A soft moan fell from your lips, “yes.”

Malfoys lips start to passionately kiss your already soaked pussy. He moans as he inserts his tongue into your cunt.

Giving you the greatest pleasure you could ever imagine….

You moan dracos name loud as you feel his tongue go in circles around your clit.

Malfoy begins to suck on your cunt, making you a moaning mess.

You run your fingers through dracos hair and pull slightly as you get to a climax.

Draco’s moans makes your pussy vibrate, as he mouth fucks your wet cunt.

Your body comes to a hot climax, leaving your body shaking.

You are cumming in Draco’s mouth, while he keeps sucking you dry. He doesn’t seem to mind.

“Dra-a-co-“ you moan.

Malfoy finally let’s you completely climax.

Malfoy lies next to you and tells you, “i think I’m falling for you.”

-

⋆*･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Hi guys! I hope you all loved this one. He’s so hot. And that’s all I gotta say 🤍

🫧 I’m taking requests for draco smuts ! requirements: draco x fem

[m-y-fandoms]

Commission: DRV3 Boys x Female Reader - Seven Minutes in Heaven

Details: Takes place during the killing game, timeline switched around, creative license taken to imply everyone is alive and has known each other for at least a few weeks and has had time to get to know each other a bit. The threat of the killing game is still there though. Monokuma has announced it, just nobody has been killed yet. It’s also implied that the reader has a crush on the boy in each section however whether or not the boy is oblivious to that fact or feels the same varies.

Word Count: 5K Words

Warnings: SFW - fluff, maybe mild angst, possible V3 spoilers

Everyone needed something to divert their attention and obsessive thoughts away from the killing game. Though nothing had happened yet, the group of Ultimates got more and more antsy by the day. Every dark corner or empty stairwell seemed like a threat, and mistrust grew and loomed over them all like a black mold growing on the walls.

No one seemed to feel safe, though it had been weeks since the menacing-looking monochrome bear informed them that they were to kill each other for sport so they could return home to their regular school life and families. There was no concrete proof that this wasn't an extensive, well-planned practical joke or social experiment, some prank that would result in cameramen and producers springing out of the woodwork once all was said and done, and that was the only thing holding them together mentally. This could all be fake.

Nevertheless, something needed to change. They all had their little subgroups, individual trusted cliques or closest allies, but there was no denying the entire group needed to come together, to get to know each other a bit better and let off some steam. Unity meant potential lasting peace and no fatalities.

Someone suggested they play a frivolous little game that could keep everyone's attention for a while. Even though most of the group hadn't played it since middle school and some never at all, the rules were straightforward and simple enough. In addition to passing the time, it might even spark a little drama or romance. Any emotion was preferable to the fear of death and the sense of impending disaster.

Seven Minutes in Heaven: a game where two people go into a small room or cramped closet alone and have seven minutes to do anything they want to each other. Usually, the goal was the get handsy, to kiss or hug, to confess to someone, to make each other nervous, or to engage in casual romantic activities. It was supposed to be steamy and awkward, to put pressure on the two people. They would all randomly pick straws, and the two people who got the shortest straws would have to go in together while everyone else sat outside and timed their seven minutes. Knowing your peers were mere feet away outside the door only added to the tension.

The location was set: a small, cramped closet on the first floor next to the spare classroom and just before the steps down to the basement. It was dimly lit by an ancient overhead lightbulb hanging on by a thread and had just enough room for two people once the abandoned supplies, tools, and cobwebs were scooted to the edges. The Hotel Kumasutra was suggested first, but was shot down for being perhaps a little too intense, dramatic, and high-pressure for such a simple game. Nobody felt comfortable enough to enter the daunting building as of yet, despite its proximity to the popular casino.

And so, the game began.

Rantarou Amami

Waiting anxiously to see who you'll be paired up with, you pace the meager few steps you can manage in the tiny closet - back and forth, back and forth - working up a sweat that's more nerves than physical exertion. When the door swings casually open and you immediately see a fluffy full head of green hair, a shiver runs down your spine. It's a shiver that is half excitement and half humiliation. Of all fifteen other classmates, of course your crush, Rantarou Amami, was the one destined to draw the other straw and be trapped in here with you for seven excruciating minutes. Anyone else, literally anyone else, and you could've stalled, talked your way through those seven minutes, felt indifferent, and at most a little awkward. Rantarou made your heart flutter, froze you in place nearly every time he interacted with you. You stuttered, felt like you never said the right thing. He was just so handsome, with a smooth voice and a mysterious yet kind personality. You were quite sure, even with the memory loss you'd all suffered, that you hadn't had a crush this intense in quite a while. Certainly not one that turned you into a foolish mess.

Rantarou entered with his head bowed, shoulders shrugged forward. You'd never seen him - a dude who was usually quite confident and smooth - looking so uncomfortable. When he spun to look at you, the door now shutting you two in alone, he was almost wincing, facial expression squeezed into wrinkles and furrowed brows. It was as if his face was trying to say: "I'm sorry about this..."

"Heeeeey, (Y/N)," Rantarou spoke in a sing-songy voice that, again, was out of character for him, yet you felt your body stiffen up all the same. You hugged your body instinctively, feeling vulnerable as your heart beat wildly in your chest. You took a step back to create more space between you and the object of your infatuation and nearly tripped over a cardboard box on the ground behind you. "Yeah, this is about what I expected," he chuckled, his eyes wrinkling closed into kind little lines. He held his hands out in a sign of passive surrender. "So sorry about this, (Y/N). I swear, there was nothing I could do! It was all random." He rubbed the back of his neck, a small dust of pink over his cheeks. You felt your stomach drop. Did he think you disliked him? Was he perceiving your involuntary reaction as disgust rather than flustered? You suddenly felt super guilty. You were just now realizing he probably had taken note of this same adverse reaction every single time you were in the room with him. The logical thought process would probably be that your body language showed disdain.

"Oh, oh no, I hope you don't think I'm upset about being paired with you! I didn't realize my-" you tried to relax your shoulders, not wanting to let your own feelings affect him negatively.

"No, I don't think that at all, actually..." he cut you off, not wanting to let you get too far into this incorrect notion. He paused, thinking over how to word things delicately. "It's quite the opposite. I'm not as dense as you might think, actually. I pick up on things pretty well," he chuckled again, trying to ease the tense atmosphere, "and I... I kinda know you like me. You always get like this... when I talk to you. I'm... a bit more perceptive and empathetic than people think. I just wanted you to know, it's okay! You don't have to feel that way! I was worried about your reaction when I stepped in here. I knew you'd freak out." So subtly - almost seeming practiced and experienced - he gently clasped his rough hands into yours. They felt calloused, perhaps from the travels and adventures he'd vaguely mentioned when you sat there like a statue listening to him talk around the academy. The many bracelets settling on his wrists shook you back to reality, and your face heated up at the skin-to-skin contact. "I mean, I'm not trying to boast because I really don't think I'm such a catch, but I see the way you look at me, I've heard Miu talking about you having a crush as well..."

"I... I don't know what to say," you release a breath you didn't know you'd been holding, "This is a bit embarrassing..." you grumble, looking at the ground.

"You don't need to feel embarrassed. Honestly, I think you're a really cool person as well. I would love to get to know you more, but you always seem to run away after we talk for a little. The others are always around. It would be cool to spend some time hanging out alone, now that... I'm kinda confessing that I'm interested in you too?" He gives you a crooked smile. "Woah... your hands are like shaking."

Was this a dream? Was Monokuma replacing your classmates with clones to prank and humiliate you? There's no way Rantarou, the most attractive and fascinating guy here, was into you...

"I... I would really like that. Yeah, I'm sorry about my... less than pleasant reaction. I really didn't mean to come off as weird or make you uncomfortable."

"Hey, no worries. Well, you know, I played this game a ton in middle school. It was always silly, and stupid, but I have no issue playing it again, especially with you. What do you say? After all, I've played games way worse than this."

Ryoma Hoshi

The athlete strolled leisurely into the closet, hands in his pockets and the stick of a lollipop hanging carelessly out of his mouth. He always had something hanging out his lip, be it a candy cigarette, a toothpick, or something in between. You wondered if it soothed him. You'd gathered from conversations with him that his life had been pretty traumatic, at least in your opinion. His eyes were half-lidded as always, lazy and donning dark bags underneath. He sighed, stepping into the dim lighting provided by the single, dingy bulb above.

"Yeah, so I didn't really have anything better to do. Everyone else was sayin' they'd play and I was in the room at the time so I got roped in. Can't be much worse than anything else I've been through. Figured it might be good for morale, for these people to loosen up and play a game or two together. Lotta mistrust brewing." He looked around, seemingly disinterested and boasting an incredibly calm demeanor. You were wondering how someone could feel not even a little bit nervous playing a game with a premise like this.

"You don't have to stay if you don't want to!" You smiled softly, offering him an out. You liked Ryoma a lot. His chill attitude, mysterious and interesting past, deep voice, and cute face intrigued you enough to even form a little crush, but you didn't want him here out of coercion or peer pressure.

“It’s whatever. I’m down to play. It’s fine. However, I’m sure I wasn’t who you expected or were hoping for.” He shrugs, less self-deprecating and more as if stating a plain fact. It didn’t seem to bother him either way if you did in fact wish it was someone else who was chosen to be with you for this dumb little game.

“Nah, I’m not disappointed,” you smirk a bit deviously, trying to hide the excitement you truly felt. You see his eyebrows raise a tad, which is more expression than you usually get from him. “Someone like you is kind of an interesting partner for this game. I’m betting you have more life experience overall than me. In fact, I know you do, after listening to some of your stories. You probably have more experience in everything: street smarts, common sense, even romance.”

“Uh, let me stop you right there.” He lets out a tiny, brief, dry chuckle, something skeptical in his tone. “Actually, not true at all, that last part. Not much romance in my life. Funny, you and I actually talk more often than I do with the others… I thought you would’ve picked up on that.”

“Oh?” You challenge him playfully, trying to flirt him into a more open mood.

"Yeah, I'd think that would be obvious. Who wants to take a chance on a no-good criminal with a clouded, ominous past? I don't really tell people all the details, and I'm not going to, but then I can't be surprised if people don't want to get to know me or trust me. Also, I'm aware I'm not the ideal, looks-wise. Never bothered me, but-" Once again, you can tell he's not looking for sympathy, but just honestly sharing his thoughts about himself. Before he can talk himself down further, however, you cut him off.

Stopping his words in their tracks, you leaned down to his height, bending at the waist sensually. Without skipping a beat, you casually took the lollipop from his mouth, coaxing it out without much resistance on his part. Smiling impishly, you popped it into your own mouth.

You'd never seen Ryoma Hoshi blush before this moment. It seemed like something he was incapable of.

Korekiyo Shinguuji

The lean, dangerously mysterious anthropologist stood across from you, tall enough and so close that he blotted out the dim light from the single bulb above in the cramped closet. He appeared like a silhouette, like some spooky demon or spirit from the cultural legends he often told you about. He seemed to be giggling behind his mask, amused at your flustered reaction to his closeness before he began to speak in that mystifying voice of his that was like smoke hissing past your ear and tickling the outer shell:

"You know, (Y/N), I almost said no to playing... This seems like such a childish little game, maybe even a waste of my precious time when I could be studying up on literally any other topic. But... then I thought: I've done far more promiscuous things than this before, games and rituals alike, so what's the harm in some little kid’s game? Why not? After all, there's something to be learned from every experience, and this game seemed integral to the middle school lives of our classmates, therefore making it culturally significant... if I... broaden my definitions a little." He rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, making you sweat as he moved even closer during his little monologue.

"I see you're being v-very open-minded," you chuckled nervously, trying to hide the loud pumping of your heart. "Yes, I would've thought you were far too mature for this game!" You were now flat against the wall, nearly caged in by his lithe form hovering over you.

"I thought it might even be exciting," his tone adopted a more predatory note, "to see who I get and explore the essence of who they are, find their inner beauty for myself, one-on-one and in private. When nobody else can hear or see, they might let down some walls, and expose a side of themselves in this killing game that nobody has seen yet. It could be a fascinating study of human behavior. I didn't really care who I got matched with, as everyone here - with such varied personalities and talents - could be an extremely interesting subject!"

"Subject?" Now he was starting to worry you. You had to admit, though, the way he was passionately speaking, the way he pinned you into the corner of this enclosed space... it was rather exciting.

"You seem nervous..." he tilts his head innocently. "There's nothing to be afraid of, little (Y/N). This game, as I take it from the rules, is to start a romantic or flirty interaction, to cause feelings to bubble up in each other - excitement, arousal. These emotions are so wonderfully and beautifully human. Is that what you want, to try this in earnest?" You see one of his hands reach over to its opposite and begin to unravel the layers of gauze bandaging. You nod enthusiastically, almost entranced by his words. He takes this consent as his opportunity to take control, and something in his golden eyes turns animalistic. 

"Good." He purrs.

Gonta Gokuhara

Almost comically shoved into this tiny closet and leaving little to no room for you was your chosen-at-random partner: Gonta Gokuhara, the gentle giant. He was desperately trying not to hit his head on the ceiling while also trying to remember to be considerate of you and your personal space. It was the gentlemanly thing to do, after all.

"Gonta wanted to play, because all of his friends were playing too! This game... sounds fun, but Gonta never played it before. Gonta a bit confused. Gonta love everyone here as a good friend, swear to protect them all, so why we not all play game together, in bigger, more comfortable place?" He asked genuine, thoughtful questions, and it appeared to you that he in fact did not know what he was getting himself into. You'd make sure he understood clearly before playing, as someone had obviously shoved him in here without a clear description of the rules or goals.

"Well, Gonta, this is a game where you're supposed to come in with one other person only and do flirty, cute, romantic stuff. Why did you agree to play without knowing what's going on?" You shook your head, snickering under your breath. You'd always found Gonta's endless positivity and determination to make others feel happy and protected adorable. He probably just wanted to be included, to make sure everyone had fun. And you had no doubt he was intelligent enough to understand the simple rules of this game, it was just very likely someone more mischievous - like Kokichi or Miu - purposely kept him out of the loop.

"Oh! O-okay!" He begins to blush, his mouth pressing into an uncomfortable, pursed line. "Gonta never done anything like that!" He was beginning to perspire on his brow.

"Well, do you want to try? You don't have to, keep that in mind! It's your choice, Gonta." You smiled in encouragement, making sure your body language wasn't applying any pressure to him even subconsciously.

"Ummm... Gonta would like to try if everyone else playing. Also!... Gonta trust (Y/N)." His words are shaking, and you decide you'll do the bare minimum, just a warm-up to see if he truly means his words. Him putting his trust in you was melting your heart.

Gently, as if you were approaching a bird that might fly away at any moment, you took a step closer to him and began to unbutton the tight brown suit jacket from his abs and waist.

Kokichi Ouma

Immediately upon being trapped in the closet with this gremlin, he started teasing you, trying to make you crack, or cry, whichever came first. All reactions were good reactions to him.

"Of all people, you got stuck in here with me. Sucks for you, don't it, (Y/N), you prude!" He swirls a finger in the air and presses it firmly into your chest, taunting you.

He spends the next few agonizingly drawn-out moments poking fun at you, at your flustered reactions, at the way your body responds to both his words and small touches.

"Oh, come on, (Y/N), this is baby shit! I barely even touched you! With my title as Supreme Leader, I've had to seduce hundreds of marks into giving up information or giving me what I want, and you can't even handle this? You wouldn't last two minutes in an interrogation by my organization, let alone seven. Pathetic!" He starts laughing, amused by your humiliation so much that his eyes begin to water.

You're sure his claims of seducing and interrogating victims before are lies, but regardless, your heart was beating out of your chest. Why did he have this effect on you? He had you right where he wanted you, and you were falling into his trap. Every time he ran his chilled fingers up your exposed arm or touched your chest and collarbones, you felt a shiver of desire and fright, a shockwave of panic and delight in tandem.

In truth, the others were worried about you. Most of them, the kinder portion of the group, felt bad about sending you in there alone with Kokichi. They didn't think such a kind, unassuming person deserved this kind of treatment.

With an underlying gentleness that almost betrayed his performative vitriol for you, he pushed your shoulders back, like a bully on a playground. He took note of your clumsiness, of the lack of coordination you must have if such a petite young man like him could nearly topple you over. He seemed to be taking into account his lack of time. Seven minutes wasn't much to work with. He'd had his fun, and was ready for the climax.

You stumble back against the wall, and instantly he pounced on you, cornering you in. Before you had time to adjust, to correct yourself to an upright position, he grabbed both sides of your face, pulling you in for a sloppy, deep kiss that lacked any care or gentleness. Your eyelids flew open as the taste of sweet candies and grape sodas flooded your mouth.

Kaito Momota

Kaito stood with his arms crossed defiantly in the middle of the closet. His taller frame and masculine figure took up most of the space as he stood firm, stubbornly biting the inside of his cheek. His brow was furrowed angrily, but not with an anger directed at you. After all, you must've been a victim in this just as much as he.

"Now, I didn't really wanna do this... it's beneath someone who sees fit to call themselves the Luminary of the Stars. I didn't earn this title through kiddy games after all, but..." he looked frustrated, maybe even with himself, "but they tried to say I'm too scared to play! As if!" He paced once in a circle in the tight confines, then huffed. "I'm realizing just now that I probably fell for it and this was their plan all along." He sighed deeply. "I gotta stop letting these assholes get to me." He conceded, his pride hurt. You had to admit, his reaction to the game was disappointing you, as you couldn't think of a better person to get stuck in here with. You smiled sheepishly, letting the uncomfortable silence mellow out in the air. You only had seven minutes, after all. "Man, it's cold and awkward in here..." Ah, yes. Kaito wasn't the type to let things just be silent. You decided it was your turn to speak now.

"So... you don't want to play with me, at all?" You speak shyly, a bit embarrassed at your own words.

"What, you do?" He counters, a single brow raised as you piqued his curiosity,

"Well... I mean, haha," you thought through how to word this so as to not weird him out or scare him off, or really just embarrass yourself in the process, "I felt really lucky to get stuck in here with you, out of everyone. If I may speak openly and honestly, I've been crushing on you for a while..." You felt your blood running hot.

"You have?" He's flushed pink, pulling his jacket in closer for security.

"Yeah, of course! You're handsome, charismatic, and you make me laugh when we are just hanging out casually. I think your determined spirit is admirable... but if you don't feel the same-"

"No!" He cut you off a little too eagerly before he could remind himself he was supposed to be playing it cool. He cleared his throat, calming down his tone a bit, "No, I mean I think you're great, too. And you're beautiful! Out of all these idiots, I'm glad it's you, too." Your heart swells. "Not that... not that I've been dwelling on this thought for too long." Though it feels like your heart is pumping fast enough to warm the entire room, Kaito was right, it was quite drafty in there. Seeing you shiver at the temperature, Kaito removes his large galaxy jacket and wraps it around your shoulders. It smells of him, of hair products and fresh deodorant. Simple and subtle. "We should hang out some more on our own, when we want to, not when these assholes force us into some stupid game with expectations and shit." He shows you a beaming, celebrity-like grin. "I would be an idiot to not want to get to know you more, especially with your talent!"

Shuichi Saihara

Poor Shuichi. The reserved, introverted detective had found himself shoved into this closet against his will. He'd merely come to observe the game from the farthest corner of the room - bored, and too wary of the threat of the killing game to be alone. Being alone was just the worst option right now: either his own thoughts would consume him or a potential killer might.

So now here he was, paying the consequences of wanting to hang out with a group of his peers. They'd put his name into the lottery without his permission, thinking it a cute and funny little prank, and when he was chosen, it only took two or three of them to shove him inside while he attempted to jump and claw his way out. Now he was a sweating, blushing mess, pawing at the door like a cat trapped in a bedroom. The same students that pushed him in snickered and howled in laughter on the other side, leaning their weight into the door so he couldn't escape. After a while, someone as smart as him knows when an effort becomes futile. He sighs, turning to face you with a warm flush of red over his entire body that contrasts wildly with the blues and blacks of his hair and uniform tones.

"Ugh, I'm so sorry, (Y/N)," he groans, his voice cracking under his nerves. "I told them I didn't wanna play, but..." were you really that bad to be stuck in here with? His reaction seemed... over the top. Your shoulders sank downward, humbled by his response to your existence in the same space as him. He sees your crestfallen expression and panics, guilt overcoming him. "Please, no it's not you! I mean no offense. I didn't wanna come in here with anyone." He takes note of how your mood doesn't pick up in the slightest, and lets his head fall into his hands. "This is so embarrassing. I actually do really like you, this is just so awkward."

"You do?" Your ears perk up at that. Maybe you were mistaken in your earlier judgment.

"Yeah! You've always been kind to me, and you're quite interesting and fun to hang out with in this hellhole. Talking to you... really gets my mind off things..." he admits, clearly self-conscious. "I... well sometimes, I hear you talking about how you think you'll be the first victim of the killing game, talking down about yourself. I don’t think you should count yourself out... we all have our own strengths, though I know I ought to take my own advice sometime." He chuckles in such a gentle, exhausted way that it might as well have been merely an exhale.

Neither of you even noticed that during his little speech of praise toward you, he'd reached out and taken your hands gently in his own. It was a reflexive, instinctive, and intimate move. Rather than pull away, now feeling a bit more stable, and comfortable in sharing his thoughts as you hadn't reacted adversely, he pushes a bit further. He rubs his thumb across the back of your hand, and for seven minutes, that's enough for him.

Kiibo / K1-B0

The almost-human robot is standing across from you, arms flat by his side. He looks far more relaxed than you were, passive and maybe in some kind of rest mode, if he had one.

"Now what?" He asks plainly.

"Nobody told you what to do?" You replied, a bit stunned and wondering why he was even here.

"Vaguely. It sounded like a complete waste of time, though. If it's what humans do, it's certainly not in my programming. Therefore, I might as well learn from this experience as not to be embarrassed later on should the topic come up again." He sounded so practical, so... bored with the current situation.

"Well... I don't know how much you were told but this game is about emotions, feelings... touching and flirting, making the other person nervous and flustered, seeing how far you two are willing to go with each other… in a romantic kind of way. It's uniquely human... it may not be productive for you if you can't comprehend-"

"I have plenty of emotions and feelings! I can understand it perfectly fine!" He retorted, offended and seemingly embarrassed. You didn't know he could get embarrassed. Maybe he could in fact enjoy this game to its fullest. You intended to get something out of this experience. This could be fun. You had to admit, you'd been curious about the extent of Kiibo's understanding of human interactions and emotions for a while now. You wondered how much he could feel, emotionally and physically. If you pulled his hair, would he cry out? If you scratched his thigh, would it bleed simulated blood? There could be a lot of room for exciting discovery that awaited you.

"Well then, I'm curious..." you reach a single, cautious hand outward and stroke his hair. It's stunningly soft. It feels shockingly real, not like some cheap synthetic wig or some type of rubber or metal shaped to mimic hair. Kiibo did something like a vibration or shudder, a chill running down his spine. You wondered if this was a programmed response, all artificial and planned, or if Kiibo's free will really extended that far. How real did his creator intend for him to be? For what purpose was he truly built? What did a scientist stand to gain from making a feeling, loving, human-like young man? You could see a war machine or an endless knowledge bank easily being worth the time, but Kiibo didn't seem to excel in pretty much... anything. "How does that feel?"

"I... I don't know. It's making me... relax? I think that's how you'd describe it. I feel like I am running on low power and sluggish, but in a good way? On purpose..." he speaks softly.

"And this?" You run a hand down his pale cheek, and it's warmer than expected, though below a real human’s body temperature for sure. You're so focused on touching the simulated, soft, supple skin, that you don't even notice Kiibo's eyes blown wide open as if scanning you, entranced and staring almost through you. It was safe to say he might have been touched-starved, unused to the sensation.

[assortedseaglass]

🌟Wassail | Yuletide🌟

Tom Bennett x Fem!Reader

Summary: A minor indiscretion leads you to chaperoning the yearly children's wassail with none other than Tom Bennett.

Content: Fluff, Language.

Yuletide Masterlist

Spending the evening with a handful of excitable children and Tom Bennett wasn’t too bad, as far as punishment went.

You supposed your father thought the children, full of a night’s sugar after years of rationing, would tire you out with their boundless energy. Perhaps he also thought that Tom Bennett would scare you. A petty criminal that good, honest girls should be frightened of. Well, your father should know that you were far from good or honest. That’s why you needed punishing in the first place.

Word got to your father that you were seen in a compromising position behind the Capital Club with Willie Murphy on New Year’s Eve. You traced the source easily. Your father heard it from that busy-body, Mrs Browning, who heard it from her neighbour. The neighbour’s daughter just happened to be Minnie Goodman, Willie’s on-again-off-again girlfriend. The tale was a tall one, for in truth Willie Murphy snuck his hand up your skirt and you’d given him a smack. If Gossip Goodman wanted that creep all to herself, she was welcome to him.

“Hurry up you!” One of the little lads shouted at you as he made his way to the next house.

“Watch your mouth, Harry Tollet,” you said, coming to stand beside him and the other children. “You won’t be wassailing next year if your mother hears you talking like that to a lady.”

“My mum says you aren’t a lady,” Harry said, knocking on the door. A little girl beside him gasped. Before you could speak, Tom Bennett, who had been silent on the evening’s walk, stepped forward.

“You’ll get a clip round the ear an’ all if you keep on.”

Harry had no time to cower for the red door opened and the children sang a chorus of We Three Kings. Their tin cups were filled with mulled cider by the old lady at the door, and Tom ushered Harry away before his could be filled.

“That’s not fair-”

“Shoulda thought about that before you ran your mouth,” Tom shoved the little boy towards the rest of the group. “Best behaviour.”

One of the little girls whispered in Harry’s ear and gave Tom a wary glance. She smiled awkwardly at you and turned around as the next door of the street opened and the children began their singing once more. The house belonged to old Mr Preston, a widower who lived alone. His only son died in the war. He had no grandchildren. You watched, heart growing as the old man gave the children their cup of mulled apple and presented them each with a mince pie.

Silenced for a while by their full mouths, the children listen to old man Preston telling them tales of Christmases long ago. Enraptured, they forgot all about you and Tom. Thank Christ.

You smiled at Mr Preston and showed him your cigarettes, indicating the pavement on the other side of the street. He nodded knowingly and continued his tale.

Leant against the lamppost, you clicked your lighter and inhaled the heady smoke of the cigarette. Tom Bennett took out his own packets of cigarettes and placed one in his mouth. With his hands safely back inside his pockets, he swaggered slowly towards you, looking over his shoulder in a half-arsed attempt and chaperoneship. You snorted.

He came to a stop before you, clicking his heels together as though he were still in the navy. He looked down his long nose at you a moment, smirking. You weren’t rattled. He brought his long fingers to take the cigarette from your mouth and light his own with it. The end sparkled into life, the tobacco crackling. The low, orange flare of light illuminated his sapphire eyes, which were fixed on yours. That rattled you, just a bit. This was a man who made flirting an artform. He looked at your cigarette as he passed it back to you.

“Lucky Strikes? Very posh,” he drawled in his Manchester burr.

“Got ‘em from a Yank. Better than your filthy Marlboros. Bloody stink,” you took a drag and exhaled the smoke in his face. He didn’t budge, the smoke dissipating to reveal a fully born grin.

“Lucky Strike for a lucky strike?” Tom raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t be jealous,”

Tom puffed out his chest and sniffed the night air. He glanced over his shoulder. You smiled to yourself; you never knew it was so easy to hurt Tom Bennett’s pride.

Across the road, Mr Preston had finished his story and gone inside. The children were walking to the next house, some hand in hand.

“They don’t need us,” you nodded towards them.

“Nah,” Tom said. “War made them different. Self-reliant.”

You hummed in agreement.

“You’re welcome, by the way.”

You stared at him, amusement tugging the corners of your mouth. Tom Bennett always thought so highly of himself.

“What for?”

“Harry.” He stated simply.

“But you didn’t do anything,” you laughed brightly.

Despite himself, Tom smiled. “Hold on-”

“Don’t think I could have handled a ten-year-old myself?”

Tom took a step up onto the pavement and, in doing so, brought himself closer to you. “Oh no,” his voice dropped to a gravelly whisper. “I heard you can handle yourself very well,” One of his hands slipped inside your coat to rest against the slope of your hip.

It wasn’t his hand that made you bristle. It was the assumption that you were easy. Sure, you’d had your fair share of flings, but you didn’t drop your knickers for any fella with a sly grin and foreign cigarettes.

You took his hand in yours, moving it from your waist and dropping it back at his own side.

“I’m only here ‘cause Dadda believed in a load of old hearsay,” You flicked your cigarette to the ground and stamped it out under your heel. Tom didn’t hide the way he stared up the length of your stockinged leg. “I wouldn’t touch Willie Murphy with a ten-foot barge pole-”

“I know,” Tom said simply, idle hands tucked back into the pockets of his jacket.

You stared at him, lost for words. No-one ever believed you. Seemed to think because you’d had three or four Longsight lads, you’d had the whole lot. “Really?”

“Yeah, course I do. He’s an ugly little bastard with more spots than I’ve had hot dinners.” You laughed. Towards the end of the road, the children were singing again, and the lamplights began flickering into life. “I didn’t try it on ‘cause I think you’re easy,” with another step, Tom was pressed flush against you. “I tried it on ‘cause I like you.”

Your smile of genuine happiness turned to one of mischief. “Tom Bennett, are you going soft?”

In the dim light, his blue eyes twinkled. With a wink, he stepped back and began his slow walk towards the gaggle of children. Falling into step beside him, you walked in silence but for the chorus of We Wish You a Merry Christmas and clack of your heels on the cobbles.

Gently, boldy, you tucked your hand into his. “Not so bad, is it,  this punishment?”

“Not a punishment for me. Not a petty criminal anymore.” Tom said, smiling down at you and tugging you closer so that the kids wouldn’t see your entwined hands. “Nah, I volunteered.”

You stood still, mouth agape with amused shock.

“What?” Tom tugged your hand and you kept walking.

“You really have gone soft!”

“War’ll do that to you.” You bowed your head solemnly. “And the prospect of an evening with you.”

“Even with a headache’s worth of kids?”

“Even so.”  

Finally back with decent internet! The last few days of Christmas are going to be heavy with uploads!

The usual suspects: @arcielee @targaryenrealnessdarling @theoneeyedprince @ewanmitchellcrumbs @ellrond @cyeco13 @babyblue711 @exitpursuedbyavulcan @humanpurposes @myfandomprompts @barbieaemond @anjelicawrites

[url0veb0t]

Hello! Can I request Emma with a male voice actor S/O? Like someone who voice acts in video games and animated movies? (Who can also do a suspiciously close impression of Monocrow) Thank you!

ᥫ᭡ ; emma with a male!voice actor s/o

ᥫ᭡ [a/n] ; hey anon! just a disclaimer im not that familiar with writing for a male!s/o, so apologies for any errors when writing! otherwise, enjoy the headcannons!

tw!!: not really proofread,, pretty big spoilers for void and the games plot line!!

ılı.lıllılı.ıllı. ılı.lıllılı.ıllı. ılı.lıllılı.ıllı. ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.

— she thinks it’s so cool that her s/o can turn his voice into different things! i can imagine that when she has free time she would love to just cuddle up to you while she has you say some funny lines from some of her favorite video game characters!!

— she’s a #1 supporter! you’re voice acting for a game she knows? she’ll download the game just because of it! you’re voice acting in an anime iroha is watching? all of a sudden she’s bombarding iroha with questions about it just so that she can talk about it with you!

— can, and will get herself silly merch of the characters you voice act, doesn’t care how cringe she is, she’ll post a selfie of her wearing the merch and promote you! (she will not care if you scold her for it, she loves promoting you and supporting you the best way possible)

— when she got involved with mikado and was reviewing the plans with you, she probably was surprised when she came across the bird ‘mono crow’ and jokingly made a pun to you about you being able to replicate its voice

— image her initial surprise when you take what she says seriously, and say his lines almost perfectly! pitch and everything! emma’s jaw drops, and like an excited kid, asks for you to continue and do more lines!

— she would definitely ask mikado if you could help be the intial voice for mono crow, with your consent of course! (she does feel a bit hesitant involving you within the killing school trip, but regardless thinks it would be cool for her boyfriend to va mono crow!)

— “oh my! you sound just like him sweetheart! say that line again! pleasee~”

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Paper rings 🩷

Jason Todd x singer!reader

A/N: I have to be honest, half of this is cat content ngl. This is based off the song by T. Swift :) Catdad!Jason is real because I say so. I geeked out and somehow love for greek mythology always find its way into my Jason fics idk

Enjoy!

~Fi 🪻

Prompt: reader is a singer who writes a song for Jason. How does he react?

Requested by: 🌙 anon

Warnings: fluff all around! Cute kitty moments, the concert parts may be all wrong idk what I'm doing lmao

Word count: 1.8k

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

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You let out a sigh as you got into your car. It had been a long day in the studio, recording new songs for your latest album. Your throat hurt, but you were happy with the progress you had made today. Starting the car, you made your way home to the apartment you shared with your boyfriend, Jason.

It was his birthday soon, and you'd planned a little surprise, not only for him but for your fans as well. You had written him a song, one that would be on your newest record. You smiled only thinking about it, you couldn't wait to pull off this surprise.

The show you were performing tomorrow in Gotham was no ordinary one. You'd called it the "Jazz on Special", which was just a a play on Jason. Your lovely, yet sometimes a little daft lover had not gotten the hint. Good.

He always attended your concerts, watching from backstage, giving his support. The moment you stepped off stage, he was immediately one you, showering you in compliments and kisses, telling you how proud he was of you.

So you figured this was the least you could do to show your appreciation for him. You wanted the whole world to know how much he actually meant to you, scream it into the crowds. So that's excatly what you were going to do.

Unlocking your apartment door, you stepped in, dropping your keys in the little dish right by the entrance. You could hear footsteps the minute the door closed. Jason came towards you, with a big smile and open arms. "How was your session today, Baby?" He asked, wrapping you in his strong and comforting arms. You snaked your arms around his waist and hid your face against his chest. "Was really good. My throat is sore though, I need some tea." You mumbled, letting a content sigh to be in his arms. He placed a kiss to the top of your head.

"I'll make you some, got get comfy, okay?" He said softly, stroking your hair. "Thanks, Jay," you replied, slipping from his embrace with smile. You went to put on a change of clothes. You did wear comfortable clothes to your recording sessions, but you had to dress it up at least little bit with some jewelry. It probably wouldn't be the best look to show up to work in your kitty PJs.

After having changed into said kitty PJs, you plopped down on the couch next to Jason and your cat, Nyx. She was a black stray with a white streak on her forehead. You'd picked her up from a local animal shelter, you just couldn't resist her cute little white paws that made her look like she wore socks and the fact that she matched Jason. It was supposed to be his Christmas gift one year, but you just couldn't keep her to yourself.

Although you got her for Jason, he insisted you name her, his reasoning being that she got her looks from dad so her name should be from mom. And yes, you do treat her like your child. You named her Nyx, after the greek goddess. She was the first, daughter of Chaos, night incarnate. You thought that it fit, with Jason being the protector of Gothams street at night. And in a way, you were grateful to her, to Mother Night, for holding Jason safely in her dark yet loving embrace.

"Nyxieeee!! There you are my sweet girl! I missed you SO much, yes I did," you beamed in a high pitched baby voice, scratching her face. You stole her off Jason's lap, making him huff. Taking her into your arms, you placed overly dramatic kisses on her tiny head. She didn't seem to mind, though, rubbing her cheeks against your hand and purring. Jason's face softened at the sight.

You looked so precious like this, the cat curled up in your arms as you cooed at her. You'd be a little embarrassed about your habit of talking to animals in a baby voice if Jason too, wasn't guilty of it as well. He put an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to him. "You know, technically that's my cat," he said with a smirk on his face. You shot him a glare.

"Technically, you wouldn't have her without me and you asked me to be her mom. She's my child too, Jason!" You responded playfully. He threw his head back, laughing. "I guess she is, huh. Thank you for being the mother of my furrbaby." He sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "It's my absolute pleasure, baby."

You were getting sleepy, your eyes unvoluntarily fluttering shut ever so often. Nyx was curled up on your lap, peacefully snoozing away while Jason was intently watching whatever was playing on the TV. You took a sip of the tea Jason had so lovingly prepared for you. Setting the mug back down on the coffee table, your gaze shortly fell on Nyx and- wait

You had to do a double take. She had one of her small paws reached out towards Jason who was gently holding it and without paying much mind, softly stroking his thumb over it. Your heart was about to explode. Your lips were slightly parted and your eyes were wide, looking at Jason completely bewildered. He noticed your stare, turning his head towards you with furrowed brows.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" He asked, the question slightly muffled by the hand that was supporting his head. "That's the cutest fucking thing I've ever seen," you mumbled, the shock pretty evident in your voice as you gestured to his huge hand that was ever so softly caressing Nyx's comparably tiny paw. His eyes softened.

"It is, isn't it? The first time she did it I was practically shaking from excitement," he laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest. Your brows shot together. "What do you mean 'the first time'?! Has she done this before? AND YOU NEVER TOLD ME?!" You yelled in disbelief. How dare he keep something so precious from you.

"Sorry, Baby."

"Unbelievable."

Today was the day. The day you would pour your heart out in front of Gotham. To say you were nervous would be an understatement. The blood in your veins was at boiling point and you were seconds away from a panic attack. Fiddling with the two colorful paper rings you had made for today, you took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. This was fine. You were fine. You've literally done this hundreds of times. But would Jason like it? God, you hoped he would.

Before you could overthink more, you heard your cue through your earpiece and it was showtime.

The 'normal' part of the concert went well, you performed some of your best songs, the crowd was amazing and it was overall an incredible night. You'd talked to your fans a little on stage between songs, receiving some nice little gifts here and there. Flowers, plushies as well as a bra was thrown on stage. Well that was a first. Not that you complained, you were rather flattered, actually.

It was nice to know that you had the ladies on your side. Jason, who was watching from backstage, almost keeled over with laughter when he saw you pick up the under garment, completely bewildered. He would never let you live this down.

"Alright, Gotham," you said breathlessly, "before our lovely night comes to an unfortunate end, I have prepared a little something. Not only for you, but also for my special someone, who might or might not be here today," cheering could be heard from the audience as you fixed your earpiece and chuckled breathlessly into the microphone.

Singing and jumping around stage sure was a work out.

"This is a song I've not shared publicly, as it is from my new album, but I thought I'd make a little exception for all of you and at the same time be the best girlfriend and make the coolest birthday present ever!" You laughed. The moment you mentioned that it was a new song the crowd absolutely lost their shit. You don't think any of your concerts have ever been this loud. Your eardrums nearly burst at the sheer volume of teenage girls screaming their souls out.

"Here's Paper rings. This is for you, Jason." You said with a smile on your face. The music started playing and it's like all your worries faded away. You'd been waiting for this moment for weeks, to finally share this song and your love for Jason. As you sang the lyrics, a compilation of cute and silly pictures of you and Jason ran over the huge screen behind you. Some were of you and Jason in a face mask, others were of Jason cuddling with Nyx. You occasionally glanced over to Jason who was doing his best to hold back his tears with the biggest smile on his face. Your heart swelled at the sight.

With the last bit of music fading out, you finished the song and bowed. The picture remaining on the screen was of you and Jason kissing with a sunset in the background. A heart was drawn around it. The minute the last words left your lips, Jason was storming on stage, showering you in kisses. He held you tightly against him, peppering kisses all over your face. His actions made you giggle into the microphone and the crowd went wild. The security guards were really struggling by this point.

You grabbed Jason's hand and slipped one of the two paper rings on his finger, pulling him in for a sweet kiss. The dam broke. There were happy tears rolling down his cheeks as he continued kissing you. Managing to pull away, you addressed your fans one last time. "Thank you, and Good Night, Gotham!"

You squealed when Jason unexpectedly picked you up bridal style and whisked you off stage, your head thrown back in laughter. It was safe to say you were on the front page of the Gotham Gazette the next day.

Jason was talking his heart out on the way home, talking about how much he loved it and how much he loved you. You were listening patiently, holding his hand while a big smile was plastered on your cheeks.

Now, you found yourself in the familiar spot on the couch, Jason's arms wrapped around you with little Nyx making biscuits on your thigh. "I have one question for you, though," you said, turning your head to Jason. "What is it?" He replied softly.

"How the fuck did you not get the play on your own name?"

"Oh, shut up." He pouted, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You let out a soft laugh.

"I love you too, Baby."

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