#i think writing is his true calling and he realizes that a bit later on in life

[bobmckenzie]

I DO think randall would retire from the medical field pretty early to pursue writing pulpy horror books. i believe that so firmly it's like canon to me.

[viennakarma]

Something you paid for

Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: Two years into the best relationship of your life, you find out that Fernando thinks you don't love him. But it get worse and you realize the whole world think of you as gold digger.

Word count: 5.7k

Tags: female!reader, established relationship, slut shaming, reader is confused, fernando is even more confused, miscommunication, cursing, a bit angsty, hurt/comfort, soft smut (almost not there), happy ending, not beta read

Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Note: I'm honestly not 100% sure about this story, a had another ending planned but I wanted it to be HEA. I don't know. :(

I'm sorry if it's rushed or full of mistakes. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx

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It was supposed to be just a pause in your studies. Something quick since your brain was already mushy from studying and writing your research for too long.

So when you picked up your phone, to aimlessly scroll through social media, you didn’t expect to see a new, sudden rush of comments on your instagram page. There were thousands of comments in your last post, calling you a gold digger, and much, much worse. Ever since you started dating Fernando, you had been getting these comments, and in the beginning they were worse but slowed down with time. Now they were on a new high again. Confused more than anything, you went on to try and find out what happened for this to happen all of a sudden. You and Fernando hadn’t gone out together for more than two weeks and you hadn’t been to a race week for a month.

After digging you eventually found out what happened. Deuxmoi posted something that made everyone quickly think it was you.

A lady who’s 12 years younger than her famous Spanish Formula One driver boyfriend, is known for being with him for his money. Many tried to warn him, but it seems like he doesn’t believe or doesn’t care.

Confused, you stared at the post, scrolling through hundreds of nasty, poisonous comments. That wasn’t true. Fernando did give you lots of presents and spoiled you a lot but he did this out of his own want, not because you asked for or demanded it. He was constantly giving you things, especially clothes, shoes and bags, and loved seeing you wearing them. He also gave you an Aston Martin car on your last birthday. He even went as far as getting you a credit card attached to his, for whenever you needed to buy books or go on a shopping spree. You never minded it because you knew he liked it, instead of refusing you were just grateful for his generosity.

You wondered if you should talk about it with him, but deep down you knew Fernando was never one to care for gossip of any kind. And this probably wasn’t even true to begin with, just someone trying to stir the pot. So you just limited the comments in your posts and went on about your day.

A week later you went to the race, it was Silverstone, and the last before summer break. You decided to dress your best, wearing clothes that were pretty and elegant and had been given to you by Fernando.

He always treated you like a princess, he was kind and patient, and always found a way to align your schedules to spend time together. He liked taking you on trips during summer break and to ski trips during winter break. Fernando adored having you around in race weeks, you could see in his face that he was radiant with your presence. And you loved all the gifts and the trips but you especially loved staying home with him, lazing around, making love on the sofa and taking walks hand in hand in his hometown. You loved helping him cook, trying your best to follow his orders and not mess up his recipes. 

You walked into the paddock hand in hand, and you kept him company whenever you could. He would keep you around the most, only letting you go when he had meetings or media duties. During that time, you would go back to his room and do a little more of your research, writing your thesis.

You left his room so you could grab a snack and a coffee at the hospitality, but as you passed by a hallway, you heard someone saying your name in conversation. You stopped, leaning against the wall to hear, with a glance, you saw two mechanics talking.

“Seems like everyone tried to warn him, man. But it’s like he doesn’t mind dating a gold digger.”

“Is she a gold digger, really?”

“Man, she doesn’t do anything! She doesn't even work.”

“Has anyone warned Fernando?”

“Everyone.”

You went back inside his driver’s room, sitting down, completely shocked. So that’s what people thought of you? You knew people on the internet talked about it, but they were strangers so you wouldn’t allow yourself to mind because those people didn’t know you. But the people in the garage? They’ve known you for almost two years now, you were always kind and polite to them, even going as far as bringing them cookies and donuts as thank you for welcoming you so well.

You avoided crying, it would ruin your makeup, and Fernando would notice it very quickly. So you just sat there, numb. Thinking about how everyone believed you were with Fernando because of his money and nothing else.

When Fernando found you again, before he had to go get ready for the race, he noticed you were a little down.

“You should not study so hard on the weekends, princesa.” He muttered, hugging you from behind and leaving a gentle kiss to your neck. Of course, he would think you were just tired.

“You are absolutely right, mi amor,” you smiled a little, turning around so you could hug him properly, “do you have time for a little kiss?”

“Even two,” he joked.

You ended up sitting on his lap, making out like two teenagers, until someone knocked on the door, calling Fernando to go get ready.

“Hey, good luck, yeah?” You said, kissing him one more time then kissing the back of his hand, “I love you.”

You watched the race from the garage, feeling self conscious now that it seemed like everyone thought you were leeching off of Fernando.

In the end, Fernando got P3 which was a great result and you celebrated wildly, proudly watching him get on the podium.

After his post race meetings, you met him in his room.

“Let’s go out to celebrate! Dinner is on me!” You hugged him, mood better now than before.

You and him ended up going out for dinner, at a high end restaurant, dressed to the nines. It was fun, you listened to Fernando talking about the race, then he asked you what you thought about the race.

Before dessert, you went into the bathroom to retouch your makeup and freshen up. When you came back, your tiramisu was already there. You and Fernando shared the dessert, laughing to each other.

When the waitress came, you picked the opportunity.

“Dear, can we get the tab please?”

“It’s already taken care of, Madam.”

Your smile faltered, and you looked at Fernando as she left. He was smiling like he couldn’t hold it in.

“Fernando! I said dinner was on me!”

“Why would I let you pay, princesa?”

“Because you got a podium today! As a celebration!” You whined, upset. Fernando pulled your chair, until you were right beside him and he kissed your cheek.

“I like paying for you, Hermosa,” Fernando stood up, offering you a hand, “come on, you can treat me right in our hotel room, what about that?”

You smiled as he pulled you away, but something still nagged at your brain.

You and Fernando took the private plane back to Madrid after the date, because he had sponsor meetings over the week, and you honestly wanted to sleep in your bed. The trip was quick, and while Fernando took a nap, you tried studying, but your mind kept going back to being called a gold digger.

Deep down, you really wanted to talk to Fernando about it, but you were unsure if he could fix this in any way. What could he do? Make a post on instagram saying hey, my girlfriend isn’t leeching off of me as most you think!? You did live with Fernando, for six months now, and he paid all the bills and the house was his. But he also gave you many many gifts.

When you got home, putting your bags inside the closet, you two just changed into sleepwear, ready to doze off.

Then Fernando opened his bag and grabbed a small box.

“Oh, I had forgotten! Got you a present last week in Austria!”

He handed you the box, and with your heart beating fast, you opened it to a beautiful vintage watch. It was gold, delicate with a beautiful bracelet. There was a lump in your throat as you stared at the piece.

“You didn’t like it? It’s ok, princesa, I’ll get you another one,” he said, with a gentle smile.

“I don’t need another watch, Nando. You gave me this one not even a month ago,” you raised your wrist, showing him the brand new one he gave you.

“I want to give it to you. It doesn’t matter,” he shrugged.

“And I don’t want it,” god, you didn’t want to sound so ungrateful, but how could you tell him that his presents felt like something else now? “You have to stop giving me so many presents,” you said, trying to put into words what you were feeling.

“But that’s how I won you over, why would you refuse my presents now?”

Something about the nonchalance in his voice made you stop, stomach dropping. That’s how I won you over? That’s how he believed your relationship came to be? That’s why he thought you were together?

“What did you say?” You paused, suddenly turning to him, it felt like a punch to the throat, “You- you believe I’m a gold digger? You believe it?”

Fernando walked up to you, putting both hands on your waist, a soft smile gracing his face.

“Amor, you know I don’t mind spending my money on you. Quite the opposite, I love to spoil you.”

You stood there, speechless for a couple of seconds. Then you snapped out of it, pushing his hands off you.

“That’s not what I asked!” Your voice sounded louder, you tried to regain your composure, “people talk a lot, the press too, but you know the truth, right?!”

“I’m a rich man, I like providing you with the luxurious lifestyle you lead. I don’t care that you enjoy my money.”

His words made it so much worse. It made you nauseous, the idea that all this time, he’s been thinking of you as a gold digger, as someone who’s only with him for his money and for what he could provide for you.

“No, Fernando- no!” Your voice wavered, “that’s not true! I love you, you know that right?”

“Why are you so caught up in some silly rumor?

“You know right? You know I love you.” You pressed further waiting for an answer. Hoping against hope that he knew it deep down, that he could acknowledge that you harbored love for him.

“Amor, we have such a great dynamic like this. I don’t need your love, just your loyalty and for you to be my pretty girl.”

He was so calm and reassuring, like he had made peace with the fact that you didn’t love him. Like he wasn’t bothered at all by the fact that you were supposedly a gold digger. His dismissal broke something inside you.

“So you don’t- you don’t believe I love you?”

You felt pathetic and helpless, repeating the same words again and again, hoping and praying for a different answer from Fernando.

“Come on, I’m really tired, can we go to sleep?

“Fernando.”

“I’m going to wait for you in bed,” was all he said, dismissing you completely.

You walked out of the room at the same time he went into the bathroom, you held your head up until you softly closed the door behind you, then finally the tears spilled. You went to the bathroom downstairs, the farthest you could go away from him as the sobs broke from your throat violently.

Sliding down on the floor you wondered if everything was lie. You knew it wasn’t but the fact that he thought you were only there for the money was completely wrong. How long had he been thinking that? How many times had he heard you say “I love you” and thought it wasn’t true? You didn’t even know what to do or what to feel. How could you feel if this whole time while you were pouring your heart into this relationship he thought you were just leeching off of him? How can you love someone so deeply and still live with the fact they think of you as a freeloader? Did he joke with his friends like yeah, she’s a gold digger but at least she’s loyal and fucks me well? 

Your chest hurt and you felt repulsive, making your way to the living room, opening a bottle of his whiskey, not bothering with a glass, just sipping it straight from the bottle.

What could you do now? Talk to him? Tell him you’re not with him for his money? After two whole years accepting his every gift with open arms? After getting a fortune worth of presents? After letting him pay for your books, textbooks, new laptop? After letting him pay for dates, trips, clothes, accessories, shoes and jewelry?

You hated yourself for it now. For taking it just because you thought it was his love language, not because deep down he was trying to keep you, buying your affection.

After spending the whole night awake, nursing a bottle and with only your repulsive thoughts as company, you watched as the sun rose from the big living room window.

It was time to fix it.

Fernando was an early riser almost every morning, so after the sun fully rose in the sky, you went in the kitchen and prepared coffee, to cut the effect of the alcohol. You weren’t drunk, really.

“Morning, bebé! You woke up earlier than me today?” He said, passing you with a kiss to your cheek, then going to the cabinet for a mug. He was so unbothered by your argument last night it was pissing you off.

“I didn’t sleep.”

He paused, looking at your face.

“We should talk.” You readied yourself. Fernando stopped in front of you, attentive. “I’ve been hearing a lot this past week that I’m a gold digger, this has been making me feel some kind of way, and I wanted to address this with you. Last night you were tired and we probably misunderstood each other…”

“Where are you going with this, corazón?” He asked, confused.

“I’m not with you for your money, Fernando. Do you understand that?”

He stood silent, which only made you feel worse.

“I want you to stop giving me presents without a proper occasion. And I want you to stop paying stuff for me. And we’re going to share house bills.” You laid it all out, after thinking hard all throughout the night.

“What are you talking about? No, I don’t accept it.” He frowned, “that wasn’t the deal when we moved in together.”

“Because I didn’t know everything back then. I don’t want to feel like I’m taking advantage of you, and I don’t live at your cost like this.”

“No, Y/N.” He took a step back, shaking his head as if you had said the most stupid thing he had ever heard.

“I’m serious, Fernando.”

“No, I’m not negotiating this. I pay for everything. That’s how it’s been and that’s how it will be.”

“I just want to show you that I’m not with you for the money! I’m not what they’re calling me! No more presents, Fernando.”

“You took them.”

“Because I thought you wanted me to have them!”

“I wanted you to have them so you would want to stay with me!”

You gasped, hearing it from his mouth finally. The tears finally started flowing, and you swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady even with the tempest happening inside your chest, staining the beautiful story of your relationship. Well, what you thought was a beautiful relationship.

“You’re just like them, right?” You said, defeated, “you think of me as a gold digging whore. You probably never defended me when they called me that.”

“I gave you all this stuff because I didn’t want you to leave!”

“It was never about the fucking money! And guess what? You lost me anyway!” You marched to the bedroom, Fernando hot on your heels.

“Don’t. Don’t leave.” He said, following you. “I did everything for you to never leave!”

“Everything but loving me! I don’t fucking care!” You unlatched your necklace, putting it on the table, “I don’t care about your money and the jewelry and the clothes and the bags!” You put down your watch and earrings too. Everything he had given you not because he wanted you or loved you, but because he thought they were the price to pay to keep you around.

“Fuck, I love you!” You shouted, feeling desperate and lost, “And all you see me as is something you paid for. A toy you can parade around and look pretty in your arm! You don’t even love me, Fernando. I could write a list about everything I love about you, and none of it would be your stupid money!”

In the closet, you picked a bag, and started putting your clothes inside. Then you noticed how most of them were gifts from him. So you put it back, taking only what you had bought yourself. Fernando stood there, helpless as you packed, putting clothes and a few shoes in a couple of baggage. You also took your study material and laptop, which he had gifted you, but you knew you’d refund him.

“Stop, no,” Fernando tried to stop you as went into the garage, “I do, I love you.”

“You don’t, Fernando. You’re not even sure of that.” You shook your head, putting the bags inside the car. The Aston Martin he had given you, “you have to think. If you really love me as you say, then why do you love me? Because I’m eye candy you can take to galas? Because I’m a good fuck? Because I stand there and look pretty when you have to kiss those old men’s asses?”

You didn’t give him a second, getting in the car and starting the engine.

“This is so messed up, oh my god, how could I let myself believe this for two entire years?” You whispered to yourself, accelerating the car and driving off. 

Through the rear view, you could see Fernando standing there, doing nothing.

You drove and wiped the tears away, breathing in. When you moved in with Fernando, you hadn’t been able to get out of the lease of your flat because you still had a few months on your renting contract. Now it felt like luck that you had a place to stay. Despite getting your doctorate degree, you didn’t have any friends in the city, only a few acquaintances here and there.

You got to the apartament, not bothering to unpack your bags, only leaving it on the bedroom floor. You took your study material and with your phone in hand, you sent Fernando via transfer a total 4000 euros, for what you hoped covered the “laptop and books expenses” as you wrote in the little note.

Then you laid on the bed, crying yourself to sleep.

You woke up and it was getting dark, the sun setting outside. Checking your phone, there were fourteen missed calls from Fernando, and a notification, showing that he had returned the money to you, with additional 30000 euros and only “no” written on the little note. Huffing, you sent the whole amount back and blocked him, so he couldn’t transfer any more money to you.

He still had not realized what was wrong, he was still thinking money was your motivation.

The next few days felt like a haze, you were barely getting any sleep, only eating and writing your research, which ultimately reminded you of Fernando, since it was a study on aerodynamics. You couldn’t lie to yourself, thinking of how many times you stared at the door, waiting and hoping he would understand and come after you.

-

Fernando had work commitments in England, and going back to Madrid, he ended up giving George and his girlfriend a lift. Fernando was visibly not himself as soon as George saw him.

“How’s Y/N doing?” George asked, casually. But from the way Fernando’s face dropped, he could tell something was wrong, “trouble with the missus?” He joked, tried to lighten the mood.

“She- uh, she left.” Fernando muttered.

“What do you mean, she left?” Carmen joined the conversation, “She’s traveling?”

“No- no- I guess we broke up.”

“You guess?!” George’s voice went a little high pitched out of nervousness.

“Fernando, what happened?” Carmen tried to understand. 

Despite not being exactly best friends, you and her were pretty close, always spending time together whenever both of you were on race weekends. The fact that you’re both engaged academics was also a common topic between you.

“You know about the rumors, right?” Fernando started, hesitating.

“What rumors?” George paused.

“That she’s only with me for the money,” Fernando muttered.

“All girlfriends of drivers are accused of that at some point, what’s new?” George pushed.

“I might have implied that I agree with that.”

“Oh, my god,” Carmen covered her mouth, absolutely shocked, “What?”

“Fernando, respectfully- Are you fucking insane?!” George exclaimed, jaw slack, “she looks at you all lovey-dovey, like- like- you’re the only person in the entire earth and you think she’s with you for the money?”

“She would never be like that! She’s so smart and kind,” Carmen added.

“I know- I just- I don’t know! Maybe I let the rumors get to my head!” he ran both hands over his face, exasperated, “And she always lets me pay, and she always takes the presents, I don’t know!”

Then, Fernando explained about how you tried to pay for dinner, and you refused his gift, he told them about the argument and how you wanted to set boundaries about money and gifts.

“She was trying to prove to you that she’s not a freeloader. She was trying to show that the money didn’t matter, and what did you do? You pushed more money on her!” George practically spat the words in Fernando’s face.

“Eres muy estúpido, Fernando. Te lo digo como tu amiga.” Carmen muttered.

“I don’t know what she said but I heard the word stupid, and I agree.” George backed her up, “Go talk to her, apologize and fix it.”

“That is,” Carmen interrupted, face serious, “If you really love her. Otherwise, better let her go find someone who can really love her, it’s what she deserves. Love and happiness.”

Fernando swallowed, his chest constricting with the mere thought of you moving on, of someone else having you in their arms.

Getting back home without you there felt like a thick fog day, cold and empty and he missed you, he missed his sun. He missed you jumping into his arms as soon as he opened the door. He missed the smell of the candles you always lit while studying. He even missed the little mess of textbooks, colorful highlighters and notes scattered around.

Home didn’t feel like home without you.

In the middle of the living room, there were big cardboard boxes, as he opened, he noticed they were full of clothes, shoes and bags he had gifted you throughout your relationship. In a smaller box, all the jewelry he had given you, even anniversary gifts. Even the beauty products he had given you like perfumes, makeup products, and face creams.

You had returned every single thing.

And on the coffee table, your keys to the house and the keys of your Aston Martin DB12.

It seemed like you had returned everything that could tie you to him, everything that made him wrongly call you a gold digger. And it felt painfully like a goodbye.

-

While mixing your homemade coffee, your eyes flicked to the door, then to your phone on the table, facing up. Despite the searing pain in your chest, and the sorrowful hole in your heart, maybe it was time to start to move on. It had been more than a week, if he wanted to come back to you, he would’ve come by now.

You got ready to meet with your advisor, and she brought up a topic that had been common now, about you taking a position as a professor for a couple of Engineering subjects. She said it’d be good for you to work in your area while on the last few months before getting your doctorate degree. You had mostly denied the other times she offered the position, because you wanted more time with Fernando, because you wanted the freedom to fly around the world following him to his races.

Now- now you had more bills to pay and no boyfriend to follow. You also had more free time, a broken heart and a vacant mind. 

“I’m considering the position. I believe it could do me good right now.” You said to her, thoughtful, “can I confirm with you tomorrow?”

After going through the meeting and getting a review on your thesis, you went back to your flat, taking a long shower. You had just dressed in pajamas when the doorbell rang. With long strides, you were faced with Carmen, and not Fernando as you expected.

“From your face I take it he hasn’t spoken to you, yes?” Carmen muttered, seeing the visible disappointment in your face.

“I’m sorry, please come in,” you opened the door wider, forcing a smile. Carmen had a couple of bags that she set on a nearby table.

“He told us what happened, I’m so sorry,” Carmen hugged you and you immediately started crying, since you had no one to talk about the past few days, “I brought chocolates and wine, so we can talk.”

Over chocolates and a bottle of Merlot, you told her everything, starting at the deuxmoi rumor. She looked horrified when you said word for word what had transpired the last time you spoke with him.

“I just don’t understand why he didn’t come talk to you yet,” Carmen added, at some point.

“Because he won’t, at all.” You say with your voice shaky from crying so much the past hour.

“Don’t say that. He loves you.” Carmen said.

“I’m not entirely sure about that,” you shrugged, pretending it didn’t hurt as much as it did, “He’ll find another one, someone who can enjoy his money since it seems like it’s all that matters to him.”

Carmen didn’t say anything to that and you knew she couldn’t argue with the facts. Later, George dropped by to get her, going up to your flat so he could hug you quickly and mutter “I’m sorry”.

With a heavy heart, you slowly rebuild a healthy routine again, doing grocery shopping, cooking meals, going to the gym, studying and everything.

One day, you went back home after going on a shopping spree, and as you got into the hall, Fernando was there, standing in your hall, waiting by the door. You stopped, almost losing the timing to leave the elevator. When you walked closer, he noticed you. Meeting his eyes was different this time, uncertain and a little distant.

“What do you want?” You asked, you hoped your voice would come out harsh, but it only sounded defeated.

“Can we talk?” He asked, and you nodded, opening the door and letting him in.

There was a moment of awkward silence as you put the shopping bags down. After doing that, you crossed your arms and stood against a side table, waiting quietly.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, for not fully believing your love, I guess I was so focused in protecting myself, that I ended up hurting you, and it was never my intention,” Fernando stood just two steps away from you, his eyes holding such pain and fear, that it made you crumble, he didn’t look like he’d been sleeping well, “I love you, I really do. For who you are and nothing else.”

You wanted to give in so bad, you wanted to run into his arms and never let go, but you also didn’t want to suffer again.

“How do you know? You never knew that for two years, how would you know it now?” You shook your head, tears starting to fill your eyes again.

“Because it is hard being without you,” he said, like he was trying to find the right words, “I can’t sleep without you. My life is miserable without you around.”

You only nodded, covering your lips with a hand. You wanted to tell him that you had not gotten proper sleep without him, that your life feels empty, that not knowing about him everyday was painful. But you needed more. You needed something you could hold onto, and maybe, just maybe take another chance at the two of you.

“I- I made a list. Like you said,” his voice failed, and you noticed his hand was shaking a little as he held the paper, “I love you. I love coming home to you every time and feel our house so lived in. I love how you always hug me first thing after I’m back home. I love the silly texts you send me randomly throughout the day talking about your day. I love the selfies with your tongue out too,” that made you two chuckle, and the movement made your tears fall, so you wiped them, staring at him intently, “I love that you’re always the smartest person in any room we’re in. I love that you’re humble, never showing off or being a smartass. I love how cheeky and witty you are. I love that you talk in your sleep. I love that scar in your knee, because it shows you were always a little naughty, even as a kid. I love that there’s always fresh flowers at home. I love that you love kids. I love that you get along well with my family. I love that you-”

He didn’t finish, as you closed the distance and launched yourself at him, hugging him tight. Fernando held you close, pressing you into him, inhaling your perfume, feeling like he was at home again.

“I’m so sorry, princesa. So so sorry. I missed you so much,” he whispered against your cheek, kissing it softly.

“I missed you too, Nando” you said, eyes closed and allowing yourself to just feel him again, “I love you so much.”

You let go, holding his face with both hands, looking into his eyes before kissing him softly. He, on the other hand, held the back of your neck firmly, licking your mouth open, until he had tasted your mouth, leaving you breathless.

“Come back home with me, princesa.”

At that, you took a step back.

“I- I can’t, Nando. I got a new job at the university.”

“What?”

“I thought you weren’t coming back to me,” you muttered, and your words made him wince, “I needed something to hold on to.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” he ran a hand over his face, looking embarrassed for taking so long to come after you.

“I believe we should- we should take a step back, rethink a bit about our dynamic,” you told him, hesitant of his reaction.

“Are you unsure about us?” He asked, visibly worried.

“No, no- I love you- I do-” You started, taking his hand, holding it firmly against yours, “I just think we should rewind a bit. Have my own place and pay my own bills, I just don’t want to feel like that again, I need to regain my dignity in this.”

He kept quiet, because he knew deep down you were right. He felt awful about all the misunderstandings, but he knew you probably felt much, much worse. He should just get on his knees and be thankful you still loved him and still wanted him. He’d take all your conditions to get back with him.

And deep down both of you knew it was for the best. Moving out and living alone, working and seeing him occasionally as a boyfriend. 

Holding your face, he kissed you, leaving little pecks on your lips, your cheeks, your chin, your forehead. You closed your eyes, letting him kiss you, and he muttered how much loved you and how much he missed you, kissing down the side of your neck. He walked you inside and let him, feeling his hands quickly peeling your clothes off, leaving a trail of clothes from the living room to your bedroom.

You parted so you could undress him, pulling at his jacket and the t-shirt.

“I love you, I love you so much,” he mumbled into a kiss, laying you down in bed.

You laid on the bed and he hugged him, making space for him between your legs. He held you, touching your nose with his gently.

“I missed you, princesa,” he kissed your cheek, “I promise I’ll do better from now on.”

“I know you will, baby.” You kissed him again, running your hand down his back, “make love to me now.”

He filled you up at once, and you groaned into his mouth, scratching your nails down his back as you cunt welcomed him. As he fucked into you, slowly at first then picking up pace, he muttered how much he loved you and how sorry he was, over and over.

As you cuddled after, quietly enjoying each other’s company. 

“What do we do about all your gifts?”

“Give them away,” you shrugged.

“Can I convince you to take it back?”

“Not if you still want me in your life,” you muttered. He nodded, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder.

“You know how I know I love you?” Fernando asked, drawing invisible patterns on your back, “there’s an engagement ring in the third drawer of my bedside table.”

You hesitated for a second, but he knew you well. Better than anyone else.

“I know what you said, I just wanted to let you know. I bought it a week after you moved in with me. I know we’re rewinding a little bit for now, but you’ll be my wife one day.”

“And what if I refuse when you propose?” You smirked, and he pulled your leg over his waist.

“You won’t.”

Note: UGH IDK GUYS :(

[moonstruckme]

hi! i was wondering if you could make some more bartender!sirius x reader stories! anything works really! i love love love your writing 💞

Thanks for requesting ml!

cw: attempted sa, police are called (but don't worry, everything is fine)

bartender!Sirius x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Sirius isn’t ashamed to say he’s had his eye on you tonight. You’re a sweet-looking thing, with sparkly eyes and a big, genuine smile that you’d beamed right at him as you ordered your drink. You got your first couple from Marlene, but most recently you came up to him. You’d leaned your elbows on the bar, looked at him with those lovely eyes, and said all the pleases and thank yous and may Is that always make Sirius want to climb over the counter and hug the customers who use them. He'd have comped your drink if you weren’t clearly here with someone else. 

And that someone else seems to be infatuated with you. Appropriately so, Sirius thinks. He takes your hand to lead you over to a couch along the wall, and he nods so eagerly while you speak that it looks like his head is on a spring, and when you turn to look at something he’s pointed out he reaches over and—

“Hey!” 

Several heads turn at Sirius’ shout, but the important part is that yours does. Not before your lips close around the straw of your drink, though. Sirius doesn’t have to work to convey urgency in his expression—that comes quite naturally. He waves his hand to beckon you back to the bar.

You obey, not looking upset but rather tentative as you make your way through the crowd. Your date stands with you, but something in Sirius’ face must tip him off. He disappears towards the exit. Sirius wants to go after him and strangle the bloke with his own two hands, but he’ll have to worry about that later. 

“Don’t drink that,” he says once he thinks you’re within earshot. 

You’re not, evidently. “What?” 

“Give it here.” Sirius leans across the bar, reaching for your drink. It’s only the caution in your expression that reminds him to say, “Please.” 

You hand it over, eyebrows raising when he brings it behind the bar and immediately pours it into the sink. 

“Erm…am I going to be refunded for that?” 

Sirius shakes his head, but managing a breathless, frazzled, “Yeah.” 

He feels so far out of his depth. Nothing like this has ever happened during one of his shifts—at least, fuck, not that he knows of. Sirius isn’t sure what he’s supposed to do. 

He starts by looking you in the eyes. “The bloke you were with put something in your drink.” 

Your lips part, brows twitching together. “What? No, he…” You turn your head, clearly expecting your date to be right behind you. Sirius watches your face change as you realize he’s nowhere to be seen. 

When you turn back to him, he can see the beginnings of fear in your gaze. His hand makes its way across the bar of its own accord, squeezing your wrist before tugging you gently towards the nearest barstool. 

“I saw it happen,” he says firmly. “Do you want to sit here with me for a bit?” 

“I don’t…yeah, please.” You look dazed. Understandably dazed, in Sirius’ opinion. You slide onto the stool and slouch to rest your elbows on the bar. “I don’t feel any different. I only had a sip.” 

“It might not be enough to do anything,” he agrees. “I’m not sure, honestly. But it’s probably a good idea for you not to be alone just in case, yeah?” 

You nod hesitantly. Sirius strokes a short line into the inside of your wrist, and when you look up at him those pretty eyes are wet. 

“I’m already drunk,” you say, quietly, your voice on the edge of breaking. “How am I s’posed to know if it’s working?” 

“I’m sure you’d know,” says Sirius, though honestly he’s not very sure of that himself. Guys don’t learn much about these things, not the way girls have to. “You’re alright, darling. We’ll take care of you up here, you’re totally safe. Do you mind if I phone the police?” 

Your eyes widen to glossy saucers, the true gravity of your situation seeming to sink in. 

“It’s just standard procedure,” he adds quickly. 

“Right.” You blink, sniffling. “Um, sure.” 

“Beautiful.” Sirius shoots you a smile. “Be right back. Marl,” he gets his coworker’s attention, “keep an eye on her, yeah?” 

Marlene looks confused and then intrigued as she spots you weeping at the other end of the bar, but she makes her way to you. 

Sirius’ call with the police is brief. They make him regret tossing out your drink before it could be tested, but they tell him to keep you at the bar and they’ll be there soon to question you. When he goes back inside, you look far better than he’d left you, face tearstained but dry and nursing what looks to be a plain coke topped by a mountain of cherries. 

“Blimey, did you ask for extra?” Sirius asks, taking his place in front of you. Marlene, helping a customer at the other end of the bar, shoots him a grimace that lets him know you’ve told her what happened. 

“I asked for a few,” you say, picking one of your cherries up by the stem and popping it in your mouth. “I think she feels bad for me.” 

Sirius laughs. “No, Marlene doesn’t feel bad for anyone. She probably just likes you.” 

“Really?”

“Yup. Almost as much as she hates our manager.” He winks at you. “Her latest plot is to rob him blind by way of bar napkins and maraschino cherries. But you didn’t hear that from me.” 

Your lips twitch into something dangerously close to a smile. You draw a line across them, pretending to zip them shut. 

“So,” you say, looking down to fish another cherry from your glass, “did you give the police my regards?”

Sirius smiles at your forehead. “I did. They said it’s been far too long, and they’d like to come here to chat with you themselves.” 

You huff a laugh. “That’s funny, you’d think they’d’ve gotten their fill of me when I was in the nick last week.” 

Sirius laughs, delighted. 

You look up with a wry smile. “Kidding,” you whisper. 

“Oh, I’m so disappointed.” He props his chin on his hand, letting his head loll to the side. “And here I was thinking you were a rebel outside the law.” 

You shrug, smile fading as the melancholy turn your night has taken seems to take you under again. “Sorry to lead you astray,” you say anyway. 

“No, don’t worry about it.” Sirius studies you. You look understandably worried, a tad wistful too, but still that same sweet girl who’d come up to order from him at the bar. “If you are concerned about the cops catching onto your jailbird alter-ego, I could always stay with you when they get here. If you want company.” 

Your expression melts into gratitude, the fretful line of your brow softening and your eyes filling with relief. They start to go shiny again. “That would be great,” you say. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t worry about it, doll.” Sirius reaches across the bar, giving your hand an awkward pat. “Just don’t cry again, please? It kills me a little bit.”

[fiapartridge]

♡ how you get the girl | quinn hughes

quinn hughes x fem!reader

summary: after you walk out on quinn, he realizes he made the biggest mistake of his life, leading him to your doorstep. wet, soppy, and begging for forgiveness.

warning(s): cursing, kissing and grinding and stuff leading to sex but no actual sex described??? idk it just gets heated, angst but there is a happy ending!!!! <33333

author's note 💌: i love writing for quinn. he's my fave. anyways, i got a request to do a part two to the "you're losing me" imagine so! hope u enjoy!

read part one here !!

YOU LEFT HIM. And for a moment, the longest moment of his life, it felt like Quinn’s heart stopped beating. It felt like a wake-up call. 

Ever since becoming captain, his focus shifted. His eyes grew tired, waking up before you had the chance to pepper him with kisses in the morning. His arms felt sluggish, coming home later and later, trying to perfect his performance, trying to be a good captain for the team, trying to be the person they needed after a terrible, horrific season. He was trying so hard to be what they needed that he forgot about the most important person in his life, and what she needed.

The second you walked out the door, he knew he fucked up. He knew he should’ve called out for you, or kissed you before you had the chance to break up with him and end it all, or promise to be there, to be what you needed. But that argument—it felt like the end. He hadn't lost you in that moment; you had been slipping away for much longer.

“Hey, where’s Y/N going?” Brock drunkenly draped his arm over Quinn’s shoulder, watching him watch the door like you were going to come back and rush into his arms, saying that it was all a huge mistake; that you didn’t mean what you said; that you didn’t care that Quinn had made no time for you in the months he became captain. But that’s not who you are. When you say something, you mean it. 

“I fucked up,” he whispered, like he didn’t want to believe that it was true. 

Brock’s brows raised, his words a bit slurred but still comprehensive. He pouted. “What did Captain Huggy do now?”

“She asked me if I wanted to marry her.”

Brock released a breath as if gaining his sobriety. “Oh shit. What’d you say?”

Quinn gulped, not believing the words he was gonna say. Of course he wanted to marry you. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. He would give up anything to be with you, even hockey. And he should’ve said it, he knows he should’ve said it. But would you even believe him if he did? He hasn’t spent a waking minute with you for the past three months. You don’t do that to someone you love. “I said no.”

“What did you want to say?”

Quinn didn’t even hesitate. He didn’t have to think about his answer. “That I would marry her in a heartbeat. That I fucked up and I don’t even know how to fix it.” That when he’s asleep, you’re the only thing he sees in his dreams; that when he’s at practice, and he sees his teammates with their wives and kids, he wonders what it would be like for you to be there, your child on your lap, cheering him on from the stands; that he knows he’s been neglecting you, but he just felt like you would always be there, even if he stopped paying attention. 

“So what’re you gonna do?”

Walking back into the party, Quinn scrambled to find his car keys, ignoring the questions of where he’s going and if he’ll return because, for once, he didn’t care about what they thought about him. All he thought about was making it up to you and getting you back.

After fifteen of the longest minutes of his life, he finally made it to your apartment. He knew you would be here instead of his, but it broke his heart nonetheless. You always said that you hated being here. It felt cold and lonely in contrast to Quinn’s, but after these past couple months, neither apartment felt like home. 

It was raining outside as he paced outside your apartment complex, trying to come up with the right words, not wanting to say something that’ll upset you further. His suit was wet, his hair shaggy, and his new white socks a squishy mess. You deserved more than him, he thought. You deserved so much better. Someone that would actually be there for you and love you and take care of you. That wasn’t Quinn; it was never going to be Quinn, but the least he could do was try.

Knocking on your door, Quinn shook from the rain, and maybe also from a little bit of fear. As terrible as it sounds, he knew you still loved him, but he was worried that that part of your heart was growing smaller and smaller by the second. 

Opening your door, you saw the wet mop on his head and his flustery red cheeks. He was standing in a puddle of rainwater and his hands were trembling. You wanted to hold them, give him a mug of hot chocolate, and warm him up. Swaddle him in a fuzzy blanket, cuddle him, and never let go, but you were also pissed as hell. Why was he standing here? Did he want to rub it in some more? That the only guy you’ve ever truly loved, that you ever actually considered marrying, doesn’t want you? That’s just messed up.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, anger still laced in your tone. But you felt like your heart was stuck in your throat. You wanted to push it down, but the longer you looked at Quinn and his sad stupid eyes, you resisted it a little less.

“I was afraid,” he muttered, a little less than a whisper. 

You rolled your eyes. You’ve been together for years, and he was afraid to tell you he loves you? That he sees a future with you? That he could maybe possibly want to marry you? 

Not wanting to hear his excuses, you held your hand on the wood, attempting to close the door as he held it open, a plea in his eyes—please hear me out. “I was afraid that I wouldn’t be what you needed. You shouldn’t marry me. You deserve so much more than me, Y/N.”

You scoffed. “And that’s supposed to be your decision? I get to decide who and what I deserve, not you.” Tearing your eyes from him, Quinn felt his heart plummeting even faster. He can’t lose you. “You know, maybe you were right, Quinn. Maybe we don’t have a future together.” 

Was he dying? Was Quinn dying? Is this what death felt like? He felt like he was dying. Everything was going wrong. He was wet, you two weren’t back together yet, and somehow you are even more mad at him than before he came.

Just be honest, his mind screamed.

“I thought that I needed to be what everyone else needed,” he said, staring at the puddle of rain he tracked in. “I needed to be a good captain, I needed to be a good player for the fans and for the organization, I needed to be good for my family, but I forgot about you and what you needed.”

“You don’t need to be on for me, Quinn!” you shouted, not caring for your neighbors that could probably hear from down the hall or the people walking past your guys’ melodramatic scene. “If you just told me how you felt, I would’ve been there! I would’ve been there for you!” your eyes were stinging, sparkling with unshed tears. “But you pushed me aside like I was nothing.”

“Y/N-”

“No, no.” You shook your head. “I think you should go-”

“I’ve thought about marrying you since the moment I met you. Since the moment you met my family and you couldn’t care less that Jack had no idea what personal space was, and that Luke was in love with you so he always asked to sit next to you at dinner. And how invasive my parents were and my grandma giving you those crazy ten-minute-long hugs and always asking you when you were going to give her grandchildren. I’ve thought about marrying you since our first date when I got whipped cream on my nose from the funnel cake we shared and you licked it off even though it was our first date, and I thought ‘this girl is crazy and I think I’m in love with her.’ I’ve thought about marrying you every time we went to a wedding together, not even caring about the actual ceremony because I was imaging it was you and I walking down that aisle and you would start crying during your vows but you’d somehow also sneak in some sort of joke about me balding soon that would get everyone laughing and I would somehow fall more and more in love with you than I was before. 

Quinn walked closer, you let him. “Believe me, I want to marry you, Y/N. I would do it right now if I could.”

“So why-”

“I saw you pulling away. I knew I was losing you. I knew that hockey and my life and everything going on right now was hard, and I didn’t want you to be stuck with it if we got married. I didn’t want you to feel like you were stuck with me.”

You breathed out shakily, not expecting…any of that. “I don’t care if you go on roadies every other week, bring me with you. I don’t care if you have a bruised eye or a missing tooth, I’ll be there with an ice pack. If you have to practice from 5 in the morning to 5 in the afternoon, wake me up and I’ll be there with snacks! If the Canucks tank this entire season or they win every single game, I’ll still be here. I don’t care about any of it," you shook your head. "I only care about you. 

You held his wet cheeks, his eyes closing against your warm palms. “I’m not stuck with you,” you whispered against his lips. Planting a soft kiss, you felt him chasing your lips as you pulled back. “I want to be with you forever. But what do you want?”

For the first time in his life, he didn’t have to think. “I want you, Y/N. I want to marry you, and grow old with you, and do everything with you. I just- I want you.”

Standing on your toes, you pulled Quinn into a kiss, his lips quickly closing the distance. He melted into your body, his hands finding themselves underneath the fabric of your shirt, wrapping his arms around your torso as if you were going to dissipate into a clear mist.

As you backed into the apartment, Quinn kicked the door shut, sealing the world outside. With the living room dimly lit, you found yourselves on the couch, pulled gently onto his lap, his hands exploring the curves of your body. “I love you,” he whispered, wanting to get closer, closer, so much closer.

Meeting his urgency, you grinded against his hard-on, licking his lips. “Yeah?” 

He nodded profusely, already imagining you back at his apartment, where you were meant to be, in his bed, in his shirt, moaning his name. “Yeah.”

You smirked, lifting your shirt over your head, your lacy red bra being on full display. Quinn's eyes drank in the sight, his desire palpable in the air. “Show me how much.”

Quinn wasted no time, his hands finding the clasp of your bra, skillfully releasing the constraints. As the fabric fell away, his hands traced the contours of your skin, a silent vow to explore every inch. To kiss each mole and each dimple, and thank whatever godly entity led you to him. 

"Wanna marry you," he moaned into your lips.

"You obsessed with me or something?" you smirked, giggling as he lifted you from the couch, carrying you to your bedroom.

"Something like that."

[yooglefics]

hii! its been a few days since i found u and i love ur writing and stories!! could i request a fic where yoongi and (possibly) female reader have a fight over jealousy (its either her or him or both even idk) and its a little angsty idk but then they make up and its all fluffy 🤓🤓 thank u in advance luv

Hellooo. Thank you so much for your kind words and for requesting this! I really enjoyed writing this pair and some angst, I did a hint of both being jealousy, but is mostly him haha. Sorry it took me a while to finally post it, but I wanted it to be good, and I hope you like it!

Jealous, jealousy

Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader  Wordcount: 2,467 words Genre: AU. Established relationship. Angst and comfort / fluff.  Summary: Jealousy has never been a problem in your relationship, not until a comment can't leave Yoongi's mind and interactions at your office’s party just make it worse. Content warnings under read more.

Includes: Jealous Yoongi. People thinking there's something between Jin and Reader… even Yoongi. Miscommunication. They argue. And then they're cute.

It all starts with the perilla leave question between Yoongi's friends one night out and a few rounds of soju in. As a self-identified non-jealous person, his answer was that it didn't mean anything, and even told the story about how it happened a few days ago when your coworker joined you two for lunch.

Jungkook, the non-identified most jealous person of the group, had obviously called him stupid. Questioned him about that guy and told him to be careful. “If I were you, Yoongi, I'd keep my eye on him.”

Little rascal; didn't even bother to use honorifics with him anymore.

But the worst thing is that the idea is now on his head and not even Yoongi knows how bad it is about to get as he steps into your office party a few weeks later. Now having the opportunity to see his girlfriend and her favorite coworker interact more in a familiar environment.

Even the ones who don't know Yoongi a lot, know he can be pretty reserved around new people, that's why you continue to make your polite round of interactions after saying hi and leaving him at a table with a whiskey and snacks. Promising to come back as soon as possible.

He looks at you across the room, all professional and sweet, the queen of small talk and polite smiles, and one forms on his own lips without realizing. Only doing so when it's erased as someone greets him, sitting down beside him and he tries to follow your steps at looking, at least, a bit cordial. 

“I don't think I've seen you before. Are you here with ( y / n ) or Seokjin?”

“Yes, with ( y / n ).”

“Really?” She sounds genuinely surprised, “I didn't know she was inviting someone.” 

“Well, I like supporting her, don't really need the invitation” he chuckles a bit awkwardly, “I'm her boyfriend.”

“Oh, so she is dating someone?” Again, the surprise in her tone makes Yoongi believe is a true emotion, and that confuses him.

“For a few years now, yes.”

“And here I was thinking that those two were going to be the next office romance,” she says sounding disappointed before realizing, “oh my— not that it's bad they don't, just… they are both attractive and you know…”

«Is that supposed to make it better?», he wants to ask, but instead he laughs, trying to dismiss everything as her hand lays on his forearm that is resting on the table, trying to reassure him as she goes on about him being handsome too and whatnot.

He stopped listening now. Because after that interaction, one hour seems long enough when half of that you have spent besides that guy, and Jungkook's words keep growing in his head as if he were watering them with the sweet alcohol. The one he has to switch hands to sip from now, because your coworker keeps the other prisoner of her hand. 

Not even the excuse ( that is actually not really an excuse because he needs it ) to get a refill works and she only stops rambling his ear off when someone arrives at the place and she finally leaves the table to greet them.

“I saw you made a friend,” your sweet smile is almost enough to make him forget his thoughts when he is joined by you at the bar while ordering another whiskey.

“Well, figure I should while you had fun with yours.” he shrugs in an effort to dismiss negative feelings.

“Wait, did you actually make friends with her?” is your turn to sound surprised, corners of your mouth falling a little.

“Is a problem if I did?”

“I… I mean, I was joking but I don't like her very much. You can make friends with other people, though.”

“Ah, thanks for the clear up.” He walks back to the table to sit down, and even he can acknowledge it was a weird response, so, your next question doesn’t shock him.

“Are you okay?”

“What if I made friends with your best friend, what's his name?” he asks instead. Comments from others blurring his psyche, making him act without much thinking.

“Jin?”

“Is that his name? She called him Seokjin”

“Well, Seokjin, Jin for short. What's the big deal?”

“Nothing. Just… that's what she said when she asked who I was here with,” he explains before taking a sip.

“Of course she asked you that,” and eye roll accompanies your words. 

“Yeah, because apparently you didn't say you invited your boyfriend.” but he thinks there is more important matters than you not liking your coworker. “As a matter of fact she didn't know you had a boyfriend.”

“Because is none of her business. She doesn't need to know about my relationship.”

“She does when she is talking about you and Seokjin having a romance.”

“What?!”

“Sorry. You and Jin.”

“Shut up, you know that's not what I meant. Can't believe she said that.” You steal a sip from his whiskey before continuing, “No actually, I can.”

He buffs. “You can?”

“Yeah, I told you, she is… not likable.”

“Just that? Not because it would be believable for you two to be together?” He asks, his annoyance clearer as seconds go by.

“Jin and I? Please, that's ridiculous.”

“Okay.”

“Why? Are you jealous?” You inquire, playfully. As if it would be impossible to be true.

“Yes.”

“Wait. Really?! But you have never been jealous.”

“Maybe I am now.” 

“Because of Jin?” you’re confused at how serious he is being, but before you can question more about it, you’re interrupted by said guy.

“Oh, I was summoned. Hi.” he greets your partner, so casually since he doesn’t realize Yoongi is mad with him too. “Can you come back? I don't want to interact with those people alone.”

You look at your co-worker and friend for a few seconds, and then to your boyfriend, trying to understand what is happening and if he is actually jealous. Him, Min Yoongi, the less jealous person you’ve ever met.

“Go, have fun.” Your boyfriend encourages you, managing a smile that only confuses you more because is clear to you that it’s not genuine.

What the hell is happening?

You’re surrounded with interactions the rest of the night, from your co-workers to their partners, people seem interested in Jin and you, after all, it’s the first big party since the both of you joined the company. Even when you go back to sit with Yoongi people get close to make conversation, one person actually asks about wedding planing and tells you she can get you in contact with someone. You know she means well so, with your best smile, you thank her and change the subject.

You hate those conversations. 

Having spent your childhood between your parents’ fights because «staying together for their kids» was a priority, when in reality it only made it worse for everyone involved, you grew up hating the idea of getting married. You understand it is for love, but you don't need a paper or a big party to announce that you love Yoongi. You don't need a ring on your finger to promise you'll do it forever. You don't need him to propose, let alone ask your parents permission to do so. 

Is your life, your decisions. The only opinion that matters other than yours is Yoongi's and he has always understood, never pressured you. He is the love of your life, after all.

In the car on the way home, the silence is filled with music from the stereo and you try to take Yoongi’s hand on the gear lever as always, but only a couple of seconds pass before he pulls away, both hands on the wheel now. 

Trying to figure out if it was on purpose, you ask, “What are you thinking about?” 

“You spend a lot of time with him,” he says without a beat.

“You told me to go.”

“I mean in general.”

“We work together, can't really do much about that.”

“You weren't working tonight and still it was like you were joined at the hip.” he hasn’t looked at you and you can’t decide if it hurts or bothers you more.

“Again, you told me to go at the end,” you argue. “ If you wanted me to stay with you, you could have said so.”

“Now I have to ask you to spend time with me?”

“Well, I can’t read your mind, honey.” you poke his cheek, softly. An attempt to lighten the mood a little.

“That’s not the point.” His tone is just as serious. And then you know that, whatever this is, it’s deeper than you thought.

“What is it then?” you genuinely ask, annoyance starting to build up inside you, but trying to stay calm. Surely he can tell, you think. “You’re clearly upset, but why?”

“Shouldn't I be? When my girlfriend keeps hanging out with this good-looking dude and everyone thinks they could be a thing?” 

“Really?” How can he even entertain those thoughts? You with another man? Doesn’t he hear how ridiculous it sounds? “Shouldn't I be upset because you let her touch your arm for like five minutes straight?”

“She was trying to console me.”

“Yeah, that actually makes it worse, Yoongi.” 

“Yoongi?” 

“That's your name.” He finally looks your way, but you’re looking at the road ahead of you and he can’t tell it is just in order to calm down.

“Wait. Why are you turning things on me?”

“Because you're being irrational and I'm not having this conversation.”

Once again the music is the only sound filling the air, and you opt for folding your arms in front of your chest to stop you from reaching for his hand again.

Now both of you are mad. Great. 

Arriving home, he still gets out of the car first to open the door for you, and it helps soften the heartache a little. But still, the night repeats in your head, trying to understand what happened. 

Why suddenly spending time with Jin is a problem? Why is Yoongi so jealous about it? And why—

“You let her touch you after she said Jin and I had a thing?” you ask as both of you are finally in the bedroom, getting ready to end the night. 

“Thought we weren't having this conversation.”

“No. This one is different. This one is about you potentially doing things because you were upset with me.”

“That would be stupid.” He stops his movements, shirt unbuttoned just halfway through. “Why would I do that?”

“I don't know, you aren't exactly acting like yourself tonight.”

“Because I'm jealous?”

“Because we are fighting about you being jealous.” And trying to calm down once again, you continue taking your dress off, struggling with the zipper but too proud to ask him for help right now.

“Okay, let's not fight, then.” He sits down on his side of the bed. “Just answer this question: do you like him?” 

“Yoongi—” 

“Just answer. Please.” when you finally turn to him, the look on his face is different from what you expected. He doesn't seem angry, but hurt. Like your answer could break him.

“Of course not. Not like that.” You emphasize. Giving up on your clothes and kneeling in front of him, taking a breath before continuing. “You know we started at the same time and he is always nice and fun, I think he is my only friend at work because everyone else keeps asking me when I'm going to get married and leave. Like your friend.”

“What?”

“The lady you were talking to. Is always asking personal questions and I don't like it. Not because I don't like talking about you, I love you and I talk with Jin about you all the time, but is just…”

“Not her business. And you don't have to explain yourself to others.” he completes. Yoongi is the first to always remind you that after all.

“Exactly.” 

“Sorry.” he is quick to say, feeling like an asshole now, a hand running through his hair, messing it up, “I really don’t know what is up with me tonight, I’m sorry.”

“Were you actually jealous of Jin?” the disbelief in your voice is funny now, and he nods with a chuckle. “That’s surprising coming from you.”

“I know. Is dumb.”

“Hey, don’t say that,” you move closer to him, hands on his shoulders to make him look at you, “your feelings are not dumb, Yoongi.”

“Can you stop calling me by my name tonight?”

“Sorry,” both of you laugh softly, “but I mean it. Even if it’s irrational to be jealous of anyone because I love you so very much and wouldn’t even dream to be with someone else; your feelings are important, honey. Just… you know, we have to work on a better way of expressing them.”

He chuckles again, still feeling bad about it all but appreciating the reassurance. “I will, promise. I just never felt like this before, is… weird.”

Yoongi has always thought jealousy is stupid. He understands feeling insecure and all that, but acting like he did tonight has always been something he didn’t understand. Something he judged. He thought it was about bad communication, distrusting your partner, and things like that. And, if you don’t trust the person you love, does it make sense to be together? But maybe is not as simple as that.

He didn't care if you had your own friends and went out with them, like some of the people he knows do. He has his own opinion on marriage and engagement rings. But maybe he cares in other ways. Maybe he cares about people thinking you're with someone else because that's probably his biggest fear.

“I don’t like jealousy.” he speaks again, bringing his arms around your waist, hugging you close and resting his head against your torso.

“Good, that means you are not toxic.” A pause while your hand combs through his hair, putting black strains back in place, “and now you know how I feel when people hit on you.”

“People don’t do that.” 

“They do,” he looks up at you, but before he can argue anything, you cup his face and bend a little to peck his lips, softly. “I’m sorry for leaving you alone with her and without a warning.”

“I tried to get away but she wouldn't let go of my arm and I didn't want to be rude.” 

His bottom lip sticks out in a small pout and you kiss it away, “Yoonie, sometimes you’re too nice for your own good.”

“Maybe I should be just nice to you.”

“You're too nice for that,” he rolls his eyes, making you laugh even more, “that's why I love you.”

“I love you more, baby.”

Protect them 🥺  Let me know what you think. comment, reblog, send an ask, follow or whatnot. Thank you for reading <3 ♡ Tag list: @n33mesis , @sexytholland , @mggv97 , @wobblewobble822 , @bbou-doir , @m00njinnie , @itsmina29 , @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d , @nariee02 , @ktownshizzle , @kimtaehussy . 

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[yan-lorkai]

Would you consider writing a drabble about Leona (And who ever else you want) The reader has a pet they adore and spoiled with love, and the boys are green with jealously over it. The mc is going somewhere and asks Leona (or whoever) to watch the pet for a bit, the boys think this might be their opportunity to take the pet 'out of the picture' but as the mc leaves they say to their pet "Be good for daddy while I'm gone~" How do they react to that and what changes

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ LEONA

Many people are jealous of their loved ones' pets, but you wouldn't expect Leona to be one of those people. True, he was attached to everything he could call his own - a consequence of the way he was treated, you suppose. But jealous of a pet? As incredible as it may seem, Leona was jealous, he always wanted to be with you in his arms and he growled low, or as low as he could, to keep the little animal from coming running towards you, wagging its tail like a stray.

Still, even though he was jealous, you trusted Leona to take care of your dog while you had other tasks that day. His green eyes sparkled with mischief when you finally handed him your beloved pet, leaving a soft caress on his head.

"I need you to take care of my baby while I'm gone, Leona," You murmured and left a tender kiss on your beloved lion's cheek. "I won't be long, and I trust you to take good care of them."

Leona smiled, inwardly enjoying the opportunity to finally have your undivided attention. As you turned to leave, you remembered something and leaned into your pet, whispering in a tender, cute tone. "Be good for daddy while I'm gone!"

Leona's smug expression faltered as soon as you were gone, and a strange warmth settled in his chest at your words. You were at a stage where you hadn't discussed whether you wanted children or not once you finished your studies at NRC but now he is reevaluating everything he had thinked before. The way you act all cutesy, your little hums and smiles when you spend time with your dog, somehow simple words are making his hearts pounds like crazy in his chest.

Initially, he considered moving the pet "out of the way" as he had planned, but he could no longer do that even if he still wanted to. Leona hesitated, but bent down to gently stroke the furry companion who wouldn't let go of you. Your dog responded with a satisfied bark and wagged his tail. And for a second, Leona thought he might get used to it all. With the dog, with the silly way you acted, with the promise of a future.

For now, he'll spend time trying to understand your dog's mind and why this furball doesn't want to sleep with him in the botanical garden.

⠀⠀⠀⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ LEVIATHAN

Levi is the personification of envy, it's clear he's jealous of the time you spend with your pet. It's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair!!! He was with you all this time and you prefer to prioritize this little animal? If you say that he does the same to Henry he will quickly silence himself.

He realizes how foolish this jealousy is, but he can't help it. He wants all of you, all of your attention, all of your thoughts and emotions, your mind, your body, everything must belong to him, or he will cry. You don't want him to cry, do you?

So when you tell him that you have a test to take and that he needs to take care of your bird, Levi feels everything around him shake. Not only can he not spend time with you because you have a test and he has online classes, but he still has to listen to your bird singing non-stop, exploring his room and pecking at everything it finds. He must protect his figures and games, and... Did your bird just climbed into his shoulder and is nuzzling against his neck?

"Take care of our baby, Levi." You smile at him and Levi feels like he's on fire, like someone threw holy water on him, his cheeks pink. "Be good to daddy, okay my dear? I'll see you both later!" You leave a peck on Levi's mouth and then kiss your bird affectionately, smiling when it chirped.

Levi ceases his movements, words and phrases forgotten on the tip of his tongue as you leave him with your bird. Baby? Daddy? Oh heavens, he feels like at any moment he's going to pass out, heat rising from his neck to his ears and cheeks. He had never thought about it before; having a family with you before, after all he was happy living with you and his brothers, without having thought about children yet. He turns to see the bird relaxing on his shoulders, preening its feathers and sometimes looking at his brightly lit computer screen. Now that he stops to think it is so cute, Levi can see why you love that little creature.

He reaches out a finger and scratches the bird's head, watching as it closes its eyes and enjoys the affection offered. He sees himself no longer caring about your pet, even though he feels jealous of the little creature. But he doesn't need to be jealous if he steals your bird to spend time with him, his daddy. So you will also spend time with him, win-win!

[lovingseventeen]

hiiii <3 could you do a jealous svt pls <333 love your writing it's so cute :')

jealous seventeen ˚➶ ｡˚

a/n: i hope i did this request justice! (also these got hella long omg)

seungcheol:

❀ whines and pouts, you can't escape them

❀ not super serious but he will let you know

❀ "he kept fawning over you, who does that guy think he is!" he tells you as you both enter your apartment, "like i was right there and he really had no shame!"

❀ "y/n, never talk to him again, he doesn't even deserve a glance" he tells you (only half serious, he'd never actually try to control who you talked to)

❀ literally just kiss him mid complaint and it'll resolve 98% of his issue

❀ "'cheol you know you have nothing to worry about, i love you, remember?"

❀ give him an extra kiss on the cheek and this gets him to maybe stop pouting

❀ insists on being a little closer to you that day

jeonghan:

❀ no one would be able to tell except for the guy he’s trying to ward off from you

❀ he prides himself on you have his ultimate trust, of course you could never do anything wrong!

❀ it’s at a party and he can just sense that this guy is going to try something. he can't let this go on any longer when he sees him slightly lean in to you to try to whisper something in your ear

❀ he’ll do something simple, maybe pushing your hair behind your ear to cup your cheek to make his presence known

❀ immediately, you turn at the familiar gesture and it only gets better when you smile when you see him, “hi ‘hannie”

joshua:

❀ joshua is kind of perfect in my mind ??? so i firmly believe we have a communication king right here

❀ you come home from a party and when you both finish washing up he pulls you in for some cuddles, with you resting your head on his chest

❀ “you tired?” you asked

❀ “mm a little” he hums

❀ when you glance up to look at his face you notice he’s a bit deep in thought

❀ “is there something wrong?”

❀ “hmm, you didn’t do anything wrong, love” he begins, “just something about that guy from earlier.. the one in the blue shirt? something felt off..”

❀ “was someone feeling a little jealous?” you chuckled, earning a small chuckle from him too because he feels a little silly over this

❀ “a bit” he confirms, hugging you a little tighter

❀ “we’ll it’s a good thing i get to go home with you, isn’t it?” you smile, leaning up him a kiss. he murmurs a "that's true" against your lips

jun:

❀ will remove you from the situation in the most random way possible

❀ there's someone talking to you a little too close for his liking and he really just walks up to you with his phone in his hand

❀ "baby, your mom's calling"

❀ your mom barely calls him so you're very confused, but you politely excuse yourself to take this call

❀ once he's led you away, you're both looking at each other and he realizes he didn't know what to do when his plan got this far

❀ "isn't she on the call right now?" you ask, pointing to his phone

❀ "um, actually no one was calling?" he admits

❀ you're perplexed and you don't really put two and two together until you both see the person from your earlier conversation walking up to you and jun steers you in another direction

❀ you're giggling as you're walking away, "junnie were you getting jealous?"

❀ "hm?" he hums, even raising his eyebrows, "never"

❀ please massage his temples later for he's been a bit stressed

hoshi:

❀ he feels a pang in his heart when he gets jealous

❀ but he also doesn’t want to confront you because he does trust you and he knows he really has nothing to worry about

❀ but he can’t help but feel a little territorial and he just wants to let you know how much he wants you

❀ if you’re at a party he’ll wait for you to finish your little conversation. he makes eye contact with you across the room and you see him take a seat somewhere on the side

❀ when you make your way towards him a couple moments later, he leans into your ear, hot breath tickling you and heightening your senses

❀ “you know you look so hot right now?”

❀ he’s still leaning in when this comment makes you blush. “that person’s practically drooling, i mean, anyone would”

❀ a hand comes to your thigh and he places a kiss that just ghosts over the skin of your neck

❀ “do you wanna get out of here?”

❀ you’re nodding immediately-

wonwoo:

❀ you brought him to a reunion dinner with you and inevitably, old histories get rehashed for fun

❀ someone brings up how you almost got together with another guy all those years ago and it just so happens that that person is at the dinner too

❀ “remember when he got y/n flowers!” and everyone chatters in agreement

❀ frankly wonwoo feels a little sick even if it was only a joke, you’re laughing awkwardly but you do sneak glances at him to check if he’s okay

❀ “damn imagine if they did get together all those years ago, they might’ve been married now!”

❀ his stomach churns even more when that guy looks at you and his stare lingers. “y/n, imagine?” he calls out to you, even from across the table

❀ at that comment everyone’s gasping and cheering on weird excitement and wonwoo feels as if he’s getting smaller and smaller

❀ “guys, c’mon…” you start, trying to calm everyone down

❀ in an attempt to ground himself a little bit he reaches for your hand. his anxiety calms down a bit when you take his one hand in both of yours. it always calms him when you do this

❀ you turn to him and lean into his ear, “we can go soon if you feel uncomfortable”

❀ he shakes his head, assuring you that he’s fine even if he doesn’t feel great. though it does help that you check on him throughout the night even when the conversation changes topic

❀ on your way home, you walk with your arms linked together. “sorry if they made you uncomfortable earlier,” you told him, “it was such a long time ago, i don’t know why they still bring it up”

❀ “it’s not your fault so you don’t have to be sorry” he replies, “but do you wonder if things could’ve been different?”

❀ he’s surprised when you stop walking to look at him. “i don’t wonder about it because i’m happy with you wonu”

❀ you’re glad to see his smile, it feels like you haven’t seen it all night. “i’m very happy with you too”

❀ this lighter mood lets you two continue your walk home, but maybe you walk a little closer to him

woozi:

❀ i think he’d be able to reason himself out because he finds himself getting jealous as him being silly

❀ you’ve never given him a reason to feel this way, so why should he start now?

❀ this leads him to think about all the best parts of you and how he loves you so much he feels like his heart is gonna burst sometimes

❀ so his moment of jealousy turns into him wanting to do something nice for you

❀ you come home to jihoon having ordered from your favorite restaurant and even some dessert from your favorite bakery

❀ you walk over to him to kiss his cheek, “what’s all this?”

❀ “nothing much, just thought you deserved it” he tells you, returning a kiss to the side of your head

❀ you’re so smiley over the food and you tell him, “i love you, you know”

dokyeom:

❀ pleads with his eyes but ultimately stays quiet

❀ he by no means wants to be possessive but the way this barista is talking to you makes his stomach churn

❀ who is this guy going on about how you're one of their regulars and yadda yadda yadda..

❀ at first it's dokyeom’s fingers lightly touching your hand, then an arm wraps around your waist as this small talk kills him

❀ you can feel his gaze as this barista tries to extend the conversation despite the line forming behind you

❀ when you notice how he looks a little sad you politely tell the barista, "well, i'm so excited that i get to show my boyfriend how good your coffee is! have a nice day!"

❀ dokyeom perks at hearing you announce him as your boyfriend as the two of you walk to a little booth in the cafe, his hand staying at your waist

❀ he also chooses to sit next to you at this booth, keeping a hand on your thigh

❀ "here you need to taste this," you gush, feeding him a small bite of a pastry and doting on him a little bit more than usual

❀ he eases up a bit when you kiss his cheek. "you know you're my favorite person right," you tell him

❀ with this, his eyes crinkle when he smiles and he nods, the moment of jealousy he had becomes forgotten

❀ "and you know you're mine"

mingyu:

❀ his heart ACHES

❀ he would never stop you from seeing anyone, completely trusting you, so he just told you a "have fun, baby" on your way out to meet up with an old classmate

❀ he sees your story as you're out and sees that.. this classmate... is quite attractive... he feels awful for his mind even taking this route

❀ your story is innocent, pictures of your food, a casual selfie with the caption "reunited after so long!" with your friend's username tagged too

❀ and so ensues the stalking of this friend's account LMAO

❀ he doesn't even care if he gets caught stalking this person's story as he taps to view it. to his dismay your friend posted a selfie of the two of you too

❀ what mingyu immediately notices is the way their arm is around you in the photo, pulling you close as you (cutely) hold up a peace sign with your fingers

❀ when you come home he welcomes you with a tight hug while simultaneously fighting back the urge to ask you too much about your night

❀ "you look pretty today, did i tell you that yet?" "thank you, 'gyu" you smiled as you took off your shoes

❀ when the two of you eventually settle on the couch he tries his very best to be casual with some of his questions

❀ "so how was it? are they a close friend from before?" part of his jealousy subsided as you snuggled into him, "yeah a bit, we grew up together, it was good to catch up after so long"

❀ his hand runs up and down your back as he tries to think of how to gently ask a few more questions. he figures he might as well mention it

❀ "so i tapped on your friend's profile because you tagged them?"

❀ you raise your eyebrows, "oh yeah?"

❀ he can’t help but bring up the hug, "were you guys the kind of friends that hugged a lot? because that's totally fine-" your chuckle interrupts him

❀ "would it help you relax if you knew they also had a partner?"

❀ "oh" he sighs and you could tell a part of him was relieved

❀ “and we talked about you too” you continue

❀ this makes him curious. “you did?”

❀ “yeah i told them i’m so stupidly in love with you that i’d rather the earth crack in half and swallow me if i had to live without you”

❀ he laughs, “sure you did-”

❀ “i did! and i even said how i think about you all the time and how you’re so unbelievably handsome that i’m embarrassingly down bad”-

❀ it’s his turn to interrupt you with a half tackle of a hug, pulling you so close to him in an embrace so tight that your laugh gets muffled

❀ “okay i get it, i love you, it was silly to be jealous” he chuckles

minghao:

❀ maybe one day he picks you up from work and you greet him with a hug as he waits for you outside of his car. he notices your jacket and wonders if it’s new

❀ when he hugs you he likes to bury his face in the crook of your neck. to his surprise, he smells a cologne that is definitely not his

❀ “new jacket?” he asks casually

❀ “oh it got cold and my friend had an extra jacket in his locker” you explain

❀ “oh okay” he replies, but you don’t miss the millisecond his eyebrows knit together in thought

❀ suddenly he’s taking off his thick sweater even if he’s only wearing a shirt underneath. “here wear this instead it’s probably warmer, it’s wool, see?”

❀ “hao you only have a shirt on, you’ll get cold then”

❀ “no it’s okay” he assures you “i don’t get cold but you do, here” NDYDYDHDH

❀ before you can protest any further, he’s sliding your friend’s jacket off your shoulders and slipping the opening of his (admittedly warmer) sweater over your head

❀ “better right?” he asks as he folds your friend’s jacket up neatly

❀ “yeah” you agree, hugging yourself with his sleeves that are too long for you, “still has your warmth too”

❀ “exactly” he smiles, patting your head. he always loves seeing you in his clothes, there’s no reason for you to need anyone else’s :)

seungkwan:

❀ so maybe you gave mingyu a casual compliment because bros been getting beefy and you know he puts a lot of work into it

❀ "wow going to the gym is paying off, huh?"

❀ seungkwan overhears this and gives the most obvious and unabashed side eye LOL

❀ when you try to get him to stop pouting later on he’s (still gently) batting you away and removing your hand from him and flicking it NSYSH

❀ you're asking him for a favor he won't help you

❀ “uh huh, why are you coming to me now? i’m sure mingyu can open that bottle for you with his big beefy arms!”

❀ "but i want you!" you insist and for a second his act drops because he likes it when you tell him you like him

❀ he tuts anyway but he can't resist you (he loves making your life easier)

❀ "i can start working out my arms too, you know" he tells you

❀ you chuckle, shaking your head, "i mean, i'd root for you in anything you choose to do, but just so you know, i love my talented, pretty, athletic, kind- did i say handsome yet? handsome- package deal of a boyfriend"

❀ he's blushing now, you got him hehe

vernon:

❀ you would almost miss it if you didn’t recognize the subtle difference in his mannerisms

❀ he’s not super big on pda and you're fine with that, so you do notice when his hand doesn’t exactly know where to rest

❀ first it’s lightly on the small of your back, then it’s around your waist, then it’s back to your back

❀ he’s so quiet but you can tell he’s thinking about something in the way his gaze is a little in the distance

❀ vernon was originally part of this conversation with this other person but he does notice how they’re only focusing on you, leaning into you, and laughing a little too hard at your jokes

❀ when you hear a forced laugh come out of him you definitely know he’s feeling off

❀ his jealous thoughts only subside when you take his anxious hand and rest it on your hip and you take a step to put your body flush against his. no one could doubt that you’re a couple

❀ later on, his hand still hasn’t left you and you notice that this is new. kiss his jaw to ease him a bit, a silent message of you have nothing to worry about

dino:

❀ he hears you gasp when as your scrolling on your phone

❀ he’s feeling just a little nosy so he peeks over at your phone only to see some other shirtless idol and he is BETRAYED LMAO

❀ “baby you have the future of kpop right next to you” he whines

❀ you laugh, closing your phone to to cup his cheeks, “of course, and he’s definitely the hottest”

❀ he rolls his eyes jokingly and you think it ends here

❀ ohoho the next morning you’re surprised to walk into your kitchen to see your boyfriend shirtless with his pajamas hanging dangerously low on his hips, abs very prominent in the gentle morning light

❀ you can’t help but walk over to rest your hands on his hips

❀ “why are you naked so early in the morning…?”

❀ “what do you mean? i always walk around the house like this” (no he doesn’t) (he’s also definitely flexing right now)

❀ “uh huh, you know you can’t do this, right?” you tell him, tilting your head to the side

❀ he’s feeling a little bold, so he leans in so his face is inches from yours. “and why not?”

❀ “because i’d never get anything done” is the last thing you say before you’re taking his hand and pulling him back to your bedroom and pushing him onto your bed-

[fadingdaggerr]

would that i

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: melissa knew what love should look like, and learned what it shouldn’t be. learning what it actually is takes time | 3.4k

translations: nonna/nonno (grandma/grandpa), t’amu (i love you) | reminder that sicilian is slightly different from italian in dialect

warnings: allusions to cheating (minimal), allusions to unhealthy relationships (minimal), making up my own melissa lore bc i’m so normal about her, kissing/making out

note: a little bit of this was an homage to my grandparents, the people that showed me what love should be. thank u and love u

When Melissa was in sixth grade, her teacher assigned a two-page essay on what they thought of when they pictured love. The moment Mrs. Erikson said this, Melissa knew she was going to write about her Nonna and Nonno.

Every morning, Nonna made breakfast and coffee, she packed Nonno’s lunch, and always left a note that said T’amu in her flowy cursive. Every evening, Nonno brought in the laundry off the line and folded it while Nonna made dinner. Even when they fought, there was never a loss of their kiss good morning, goodbye, and good night. Only on anniversaries was Nonno allowed in the kitchen, and they’d dance while sauce simmered on the stovetop. Love between them seemed easy and gentle. Melissa spent every Saturday night and Sunday morning across the street at their house, and every time she found something to add to her list of what love looked like and how it should be.

Melissa thought she had found love with Tommy Adkins in eighth grade. She’d even bought a new dress to wear to autumn formal, pink and ruffled and perfect. By the time she was ready to leave, her face almost hurt from the amount of times she redid her makeup so that Tommy would call her beautiful instead of bangin’ for once. That night she watched him dance with Jennifer Milano with a half-baked excuse of him “not wanting to kiss a chick with braces.” Melissa cried for two hours while Nonna told her she was better off, a bowl of pastina pushed her way. She forgot about him by the time Monday rolled around.

High school boyfriends came and went, but in college Melissa fell in love for the first time. A true, deep love with a firefighter-in-training that knew her neighbor. Everytime Joe visited Brian, he stopped across the hall to see Melissa, leaned against the doorway with an easy smile. He was charming, respectful, and funny, everything she had been looking for. Two months after she graduated, he dropped to one knee and she jumped into his arms. They moved from their apartment to a home in south Philly. Melissa worked during the day, and Joe started night shifts at the fire station for the extra pay.

Night shifts began to extend, and Melissa never saw him. He’d eat the plate she’d prepared in the fridge and leave the dirty dish on the counter. Dirt and ash from his boots tracked across her rugs and carpets, scuff marks in her living room. What almost killed her was the dirty cast iron skillet left in the sink. When she brought anything up, he’d deflect and leave. Every now and then, he came home with flowers “just because.” But then flowers began to follow every extra long night, and she could smell the floral perfume that didn’t belong to her and didn’t match the flowers. It took her months to say anything, and all she was met with was eyes that couldn’t look at hers.

Melissa began to think that what her grandparents had could never be hers. A loving life was in the cards, and Joe had only solidified this. She stayed at Barbara’s that night.

—

A few years later, her perspective was changed when a new fourth grade teacher joined the staff mid-term. Never in her years had she allowed someone in so easily, allowed them to be her friend and not just a coworker. Somehow, in two years, Melissa realized she’d never felt so cared for and loved by anyone.

—

“Is there a chance I could pour a cup of coffee before you start bursting my ear drums?” Melissa says when Jacob and Janine start babbling behind her about something she didn’t care about at 7:30 on a Friday morning. Ever since she turned onto the street the school is on, a headache had been growing steadily. Staying up late to finish grading was the worst idea she’s had all month. The two teachers cringe slightly, lowering their volume. When the door opened again for you and Barbara to enter chatting with each other, volume lowering at the sight of Melissa sat at the table with fingers pressed to her temples. She hears a bag drop on the table quietly, opening one eye to see you trying to be as quiet as possible as you dig around.

When you finally stop, you pull out a bottle of ibuprofen and pass it to her. She waves it off, muttering a don’t need it. When you don’t reply, she peers up to see you still holding the bottle out with an expectant look on your face. You shake the bottle, “don’t suffer just to look tough.”

“Melissa Ann, take the damn pills,” Barbara orders from her seat, spooning some sugar into her coffee.

“I don’t need ‘em,” she mumbles out again.

You push your hand forward more, “please. If not for yourself, for your students. You’re irritable when you have a headache.” Barbara chuckles and sends a knowing look to Melissa. Janine and Jacob, on the other hand, turn and look at you, fully expecting the red head to make some harsh reply or threat back to you. All she does is puff out a laugh and grab the bottle from your hands. She decided not to remark on the weird looks she was getting from the peanut gallery.

When getting the kids ready for recess, she sees you peering around the corner to the doorway. She holds a finger to ask you to wait, and gets a double thumbs up in return. After zipping many jackets and helping with gloves, she watches the little eagles run outside in the chilly autumn air. As she walks back into her classroom, she sees you sitting in her chair waiting patiently for her. “You know, I don’t let anyone sit in my seat,” she jokes as approaches.

“Good thing I’m not just anyone, now am I?” you joke, standing to meet her.

She fights her smile as she answers quietly, “no, you’re not.” She takes a second to breathe when she sees a grin cross your lips at her comment, “we still on for dinner at mine tonight?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” the grin on your face growing, the giddy feeling in Melissa’s chest with it. You loop your arm with hers and walk towards the lounge.

When Melissa opens the front door, you expect a greeting, but instead you get a groan as she stomps back to the kitchen. Dropping your bag and shrugging off your coat, you walk into the kitchen, placing the box of pastries on the table. Melissa returns to angrily rummaging through the refrigerator, desperately trying to find something. It wasn’t until two hands pulled her back by the shoulders, turning her around. She relaxes into your touch, closing her eyes.

“I’m out of basil,” she says through a sigh.

“Want me to go to the store?” you ask, wanting to remove any stress from her.

“No,” Melissa answers as she opens her eyes, “you just got here, that wouldn’t be fair.”

You laugh, “we could go together. Or we can just be lazy, order a pizza, and not get off the couch.”

“Second one,” she sighs out, pulling away to clean up the dishes she took out. While she’s distracted, you take the time to call in the order, pay, and tip over the phone so that Melissa won’t even have the chance to say herself.

“If there’s pineapple on there, I’m kicking you out,” she yells from the kitchen after she hears you hang up.

“No, veggie. And yes, I asked for no mushrooms. One of these days though, I’ll convert you to being a pineapple woman,” you joke tilting your head back to see her standing behind you, “plus, you wouldn’t dare kick out the person who brought you zeppole.”

She gets closer, leaning over with her hands holding the backrest on either side of your head, “is there chocolate sauce?” The excitement was evident in her tone, bringing butterflies to your stomach. You can’t form words with her standing over you and smiling like that, so you just nod.

Later into the night, the TV played Weeds while you sat in comfortable silence, only breaking it when you both repeated the same joke out loud every now and then. Your legs were thrown over her lap, her fingers playing with the folding fabric of your jeans as she watched the screen. Her subconscious drew her attention toward you, eyes tracing over smile lines and the glowing reflection in your eyes from the TV. She watches you lean forward to grab a zeppole, ready to offer it to her. It’s only then that you catch her stare.

“You okay?” you ask, turning and scooting closer to give her your full attention.

She gives a quick squeeze to your leg, “yeah, hon. I’m better than okay.” She feels even better when you lean into her, placing your head on her shoulder. She drops her head to yours, a deep breath leaving her as she finally relaxes fully for the first time all day.

—

Some time between then and now, things had changed, Melissa wasn’t exactly sure when. At some point the Friday dinners turned into Saturday plans, then Sunday since the farmer’s market was open, no other reason. Breakfast on those days translated to bringing coffee to each other at work, ignoring the questioning gazes of other staff members as she passed you your coffee, despite having never asked how you took it. What had started with you sleeping on the couch when the night grew later, migrated to the spare bedroom.

On a Sunday night, it changed again. You watched the tail end of an Eagles’ game while sitting in her bed after helping grade book reports. As always, your head rested on her shoulder with her own resting on yours. Anytime something that wasn’t a point being scored happened, she explained it to you, though she knew not a thing she said would help make sense of it. It didn’t matter to you, all you wanted was to hear her voice and have her attention.

“Your bed is comfy,” you mutter when the commercials begin before the last quarter.

A smile crosses her lips, “treated myself to a good mattress when I kicked bozo out. Glad you approve.”

“You deserve nice things,” you say as you settle into her more, and through a yawn add, “the best things.”

That night, you’d both fallen asleep slumped against the headboard, leaning into each other for comfort.

Melissa woke up to a rhythmic thumping under her ear and a hand in her hair gently playing with amber waves. The small smile that came to her lips would have been foreign to her if she wasn’t so comfortable, the content feeling in her chest would be almost alarming. When her eyes cracked open, she recognized her bedroom and sheets. She groaned into the cold morning air, and the hand moved from twirling the ends of her hair to scratching her scalp, making her tuck into the warmth beneath her even more.

“Good morning,” you rasp out, having only been awake a little longer, the only response being another groan. She finally rolls off of you, much to your dismay, and sits up on her elbows, looking at you with sleepy, squinted eyes.

“It’s Monday,” she grumbles.

You chuckle, grabbing her glasses off the nightstand for her, “fine, just morning then.”

Something about this morning felt different to Melissa. You’d never spent the night on a school night, let alone sleep in her bed, but that wasn’t what shook her. It wasn’t you making her coffee, sipping it to make sure it tasted right before handing it to her. It also wasn’t that you turned off her alarm and woke her up yourself without making her ears bleed. She thought it could be that you’d opened the door for her on the way out, or how you offered to drive her to and from work to make up for staying late, but not that either.

Maybe it was how she didn’t want to get out of bed, or how her coffee tasted better than any time she’d made it herself. Or how she hadn’t slept that peacefully in twenty years. It could have been how much she enjoyed being driven to work, and having full control of the songs you listened to on the way there, or the fact that she sped ahead to open a door for you this time. She doesn't have time to dwell on it once she gets to her classroom, a knock on the doorframe comes the second to place her purse on the desk.

“I thought you weren’t in today, I didn’t see your car in the parking lot,” Barbara says as she walks in.

Without looking up from her bag as she pulls out folders, Melissa answers, “I got a ride in.”

“Did you now?” Barbara asks with an amused tone. “And would that someone happen to be the fourth grade teacher that practically lives with you?”

“We don’t live together,” Melissa says incredulously, “we just fell asleep, so we drove in together. It’s not a big deal, it’s not like we’re actually together.”

Barbara can’t hide her laugh, “you fell asleep? Both of you? And where was that?” Melissa only mumbles back, so Barbara presses, “where did you both sleep, Melissa?”

“My bed,” Melissa finally says a little louder, but not much. She wants to send her head through a wall knowing that Barb just figured her out.

“Oh, girl. You are in deep,” Barbara says with a smirk. After she leaves the room, the spiral in Melissa’s head goes faster.

Said spiral carries her through lunch, and only stops when you sit across from her and stare at her for a moment. Her face contorts in a what? look before you reach across the table and brush your fingers through her hair. When you pull back, there’s a purple string from the third graders’ projects between your fingers. Barbara kicks her from under the table, and she kicks back with equal force. They both see you look at them weird, before brushing it off and going back to getting your lunch out. Barbara cocks her head to you, staring at the red head, silently telling her to do something. The look the kindergarten teacher gets back replies not now.

When the end of the day rolls around, Melissa is anxious for your eventual arrival in her doorway, keys swinging around your pointer finger. All she could think about since you parted ways this morning was your hands in her hair and your heartbeat under her ear. She hadn’t felt so content and so at peace in so long, the feeling was so new that it almost scared her. Melissa had to remind herself that this was about you, not anyone else. You’d never hurt, belittled, or offended Melissa, you’d never made it your mission to anger or disregard her, nor had you ever tried putting yourself before her. She knew that feeling this way about you shouldn’t scare her, but it did.

The sound of keys and footsteps in the hallways alerted her to your approaching presence, making Melissa quickly rise to her feet and grab her things, realizing she’d been spaced out since the last student left. As she predicted, you stood there spinning your keys, smile growing when she turned toward you. It drops slightly when you see her smile not reach her eyes. “Ready?” you ask.

“Sure, yeah,” she clears her throat, “let’s go.”

You can tell her mind is running into overdrive as you pull onto her street. When you park in the driveway, you unbuckle to turn in your seat and face her.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

She turns to you with a scrunched face, “what are you, 90?”

You shrug and point to her sleeves, “you’re thinking. You play with the thumb holes when you think.” She’d curse you for noticing if it didn’t make her heart clench. “You don’t have to tell me,” you add, “but I’ll listen, if you want.”

She looks at you for a moment, surrendering with a, “wanna come in?” You only answer by taking your keys out of the transmission, hopping out, and opening the door for her.

The discussion gets put on hold while Melissa heats up leftovers from the night before. She carries both bowls out to the living room where you’re turning on the TV back on for background noise. As Melissa sits down, she faces toward you and you mirror her pose. “Sorry I was acting weird,” she mumbles before taking a bite.

You shake your head, “you’re only allowed to apologize when you’ve done something wrong. Thinking isn’t doing something wrong.” When she doesn’t speak again, you offer up something else, “Ava almost had a heart attack over you this morning.”

She looks at you confused, “were we wearing the same shade of green again?”

“No. She thought you didn’t come to work this morning cause your car wasn’t there, was going off about how she was going to have to sub because there’s still a shortage in the area,” you laugh, “I had to tell her I drove you in, which also ended me in a twenty minute interrogation during my prep period.”

“What sort of interrogation?” she asked, already nervous.

You look down the bowl in your lap as you speak, poking the food around, “the kind where she asks for a detailed account of my whole weekend. Weird amounts of detail too, mealtimes, where I slept, where we went, what shows we watched.”

“What’d you tell her?” Melissa can feel fear creeping into her bones.

“That we went to the farmer’s market, watched sitcoms, and I slept in the guest room,” you answer truthfully, “and what did you say to Barbara?” Her head snaps to you, you lean your head to the side, “she stopped by to ask me about my weekend, she seemed a little too excited to see me if you hadn’t spoken to her first.”

Melissa moves to place her bowl on the coffee table before looking back to you, “she asked why we drove in together. I said we fell asleep, and she asked where we fell asleep. Might’ve told her you slept in my bed.”

“It’s impossible to lie to her,” you say as you copy her move. You’re silent for a moment, then finally ask, “what were you thinking about?”

She takes in a deep breath and exhales to calm her nerves, “this morning. This whole weekend, but mostly this morning.” She glances up, and sees your face had dropped, worry setting in, and she’s quick to revise her statement, “in a good way. This morning, this weekend, they meant a lot to me.”

At her words, your lips stretch into a smile, “it meant a lot to me, too.” She can see you internally question saying the next part, “and you. you mean a lot to me, a crazy amount.”

It’s her turn to smile like an idiot now, a pretty blush covering her cheeks, “you mean a crazy amount to me, too. Being around you it’s... It’s easy. I like being with you.”

“I do, too. Sometimes, when I’m here I almost forget I live somewhere else. The second I step inside and I’m with you, I don’t know, leaving just feels wrong,” you say honestly, eyes flickering over her face as you speak, scanning for a rejection you won’t find.

“Waking up to you was nice,” Melissa mumbles, “you’re a pretty good pillow, if I do say so myself.”

Your airy laugh makes her heart race, it goes even faster when you lean in to reply, “I wouldn’t mind waking up that way again... and again, and again.”

She matches you lean in, smiling, “yeah?” Your noses are almost touching, she can feel your breath just barely touching her face. Her eyes flick to yours and see you looking back, faint lines forming as your lips turned upward as her gaze.

“Being with you makes sense,” you say quietly into the space between you, eyes flicking to her lips then back up.

Her hand moves up to your cheek, warm hands and cool rings holding with gentle affection. Olive eyes look into yours for permission, but your answer is closing the space between you. Her other hand flies to hold your neck, your hands holding her wrists. They slide from her arms to her waist, pulling her closer and crawling beneath her shirt to rest on her skin. She takes the chance to straddle your lap as her tongue slides over your bottom lip, asking for the instantly granted entry. Her lips were soft, savoring the feeling of yours against hers, committing it to memory.

Your arms tighten around her, holding her as if she’s this precious thing, and it makes her only give more into you. Her lips slow, and you can almost feel the love she’s trying to convey in her action. But your lungs can only survive so long, and she pulls her lips away, resting her forehead against yours.

“Stay?” she whispers through her breaths as she recovers.

“Wasn’t planning on leaving,” you mumble back, dazed from her kiss. You duck foreward, hugging her as she still sits in your lap. Her arms circle your shoulders, hearing you mumble into her neck, “I love you.”

She presses a kiss to your head, “I love you.”

Melissa’s heart beat against your ear, calm and steady. The smell of her perfume and honey shampoo flooded your senses, making you nudge into her further. You tilted your head, lips pressing softly to the skin of her neck, moving upwards back to her lips, pressing a long, sound kiss there. You pull away to look at her, smoothing back copper strands.

“Is it too early to go lay in bed for the rest of the night?” you ask quietly.

She huffs a laugh, “I was gonna suggest the same thing.”

By the fifth episode of Weeds, Melissa noticed your breathing even out. She peered down at you where you lay curled into her side with your head on her chest, arm slung over her middle, lips slightly parted. She presses a kiss to your head as she shuts the TV off, and lays there to just bask in you being with her. She’d never felt so adored, so cared for, so at ease. This is was it was supposed to be.

feedback appreciated as always <3

title from would that i by hozier (i’m sure everyone knew that. we’re all gay here)

[btsworldz]

MY LOVE, MINE ALL MINE (Part Three) - Taehyung x Reader

yandere idol! taehyung x reader

delusional taehyung, taehyung x reader, idol taehyung, bts x reader, yandere taehyung, taehyung is in loooovee

“What is your dream?” Taehyung asked you.

You were quiet as you internally thought of his question. You have always been a simple human, ones who lived by fate and let life takes you where it wants you to be. “I never thought of something big, if that’s what you asked me.” You let out a chuckle, a little bit embarrassed of your own answer.

Taehyung frowned, his eyebrows creased as you looked downward a little. “I never had a dream!” Taehyung said a little too enthusiastic. You laughed. “Thanks, that totally makes me feel better, Tae.” He wanted to smile but hid it so his cheeks puffed instead. You chuckled a little bit.

Letting out a huff. You stared at the distance. You both back at your grandpa’s drinking house, it was becoming a basecamp at this point by how many times you and Taehyung hang out here.

“Well, I have a dream.”

“What? Tell me about it!” Taehyung asked a little too excited as he scooted over a little too close that his knees were touching yours and his face was practically inches from yours.

“Wow.” You push his face away a little, earning a little pout from him. You swore he’s a puppy from how much he can be excited then sad at lightning speed.

“I want to see the northern lights someday.” You said, a little bit bashful when you thought of your dreams. With someone special, you wanted to add the last bit but decided not too. Afraid that it would be a little too corny.

“That’s…,” so cute. Taehyung wanted to say. His heart was beating off his chest from how you looked so beautiful with that bashful expression. He decided he has a dream now, and that is to make your dreams come true.

“What?” You asked curtly. Your expression cutting, testing him to say something wrong. He was smiling from ear to ear, he didn’t realize he hadn’t said anything. “That’s so precious.” He decided to say. Teasing you a little as he held your cheeks in his hands squeezing them until you slapped his hands away.

He chuckled. “Well, we can make that come true. I’m your boss remember?”

You frowned. “And I’m your personal assistant, remember? So, no. You have a very tight schedule, Tae. It’s not possible, and besides it’s not important.”

Taehyung licked his lips, you looked so sexy ordering him around. But he would never tell you that, not now at least. “Well, you’re the boss with that. But I’ve got to disagree with you, it is important to me. It’s your dream.” Taehyung looked serious as he said this, it scared you a little bit from how intense his face was.

“Right…,” you chuckled a little to lighten the situation. “Let’s just drink to that.” You quickly put up your glass and make a toast, and Taehyung as always following through with whatever you do.

“I think your allegation might not be right.”

“Allegation?” The psychiatrist raised his eyebrow, pausing his pen on his hand. His name is Mr. Min, Taehyung didn’t quiet remember his full name since he didn’t wear a name tag and it has been a long time since he visits his office. But his contact is saved under Mr. Min and Taehyung only called him by ‘Doc’.

“Yes, the one you said about me being a sociopath.”

“I said you have a tendency towards that but it will take more to come to that conclusion. On another note, tell me why do you think that is?” Mr. Min fixed his glasses, his eyes boring into Taehyung. Taehyung stared back at him, before leaning on his seat and staring at the ceiling.

“Well, I have a friend. A dear friend. And I think I care about her a lot.”

“Hmm, alright. Tell me about her.”

Taehyung tensed in his seat. He lifted up his head a little before giving the doctor a scrutinizing eyes. “And why do you need that kind of information for?”

Mr. Min stood calm amidst his patient’s stare, in his mind he would for sure be writing down this behavior later on. “I want to know what interest you in getting to know this friend.”

“Alright,” Taehyung said before he went back to stare at the ceiling. “Uhh, where should I start. I think I love how she always know what to say, she always says the right thing. And I love her presence. I didn’t know, I just love… being around her. Is that weird?”

“No. Not at all. It is completely normal, she must be a good person.”

“She is.” Taehyung smiled imagining your bashful expression when talking about the northern lights. “She’s also very honest with her expression and I think, I love that about her very much.”

“Right,” Mr. Min said as his pen was busy writing on the paper. He smiled, was underlined multiple times on his note.

“I think you found a friend, a good friend in fact. It’s important to have someone you trust enough to talk to about your day. That’s a good thing, Taehyung.”

“I know, doc.” Taehyung smiled, showing his teeth. “I will never let a good friend go, it’s hard to come by. Right, doc?”

That night Taehyung got the phone call, when he was just busy surfing on the internet about the northern lights and how to travel there.

When he heard about what the person on the other line said, he froze for a little. His face void of any expression, the cloud on his mind returning bringing the darkness that has always been lurking underneath.

“Father is dead, Taehyung. You are expected to come home, now.”

“I’ll be there.”

He ended the call. The silence suddenly filling his ear drums more than ever, it was like the world pause for a second. He didn’t know what to do now, and how to make out anything of the situation. To be honest his father is not a good man, but he wasn’t bad either. He’s just never there for Taehyung, so he was saddened but it was just like hearing a neighbor died. Well maybe a little heavy than that, but Taehyung was never sure of what he was feeling.

He needs your guidance.

He wanted to see your reaction to the information he was about to give you. So the next thing he knew his phone was already on his hand. You picked up at the third ring, he took notes of it. It was stirring his heart a bit, a genuine frown crossed his face, but it was wiped out in a second when your voice entered his ear.

“Hello, what’s up Tae?”

“Y/n…” Taehyung said in a sad tone.

You took a pause, he noted. Probably assessing his tone. Cute.

“What happened? Are you okay?” Your voice entered him, coated with concern. Taehyung was having a full blown smile, it was hard for him to keep being sad when you were so cute but sadly out of reach.

He needed to see your face, your expression, and maybe he just needed to be close to you. He wanted to bask in your presence, in your pity, and whatever emotions you had for him. Taehyung deeply wanted to bask in it.

“I-I didn’t know what to do,” Taehyung tried to make his voice crack and he was trying his best to cry. To really cry. “My father… he… died. Can you come? I-I don’t think I’m okay…”

Please believe me. Please come. Please come. Please come to me.

“I’m so sorry to hear that Tae and I’ll come to you now, but feel free to change your mind and call me if you need time alone-”

“No!” Taehyung cut you off in a panicked voice. “You need to come.” He felt his act slipped, so he added a please in a sad quiet voice.

“I will be there in a second.” You hung up on him after you said that.

Taehyung was quick to run to the nearest mirror, he make sure to crumpled up his shirt and make a mess out of his hair as if he had been pulling it in frustration. He make sure to put his acting skill to cry on screen and do it.

The quickest way to make his eyes red was to think of something sad, before he met you he couldn’t do it. But now he just had to think of you leaving him or the possibility of him never meeting you in that fateful day, he cried in seconds. He was full on sobbing imagining you were leaving him for someone else or you were cheating with someone that you think was better than him.

In a matter of minutes he looked at himself and smiled in exhaustion. His eyes were perfectly red and puffy and his hair looked like a mess.

He just had to sit and wait for you.

When the doorbell rang at exactly 10 minutes after the phone call, Taehyung almost beamed at your quickness and took notes of how you must have rushed here to comfort him.

He didn’t waste any time to hug you. He missed you like hell and he was glad that you care for him like this. “Tae…,” you said in a weak voice. Returning the hug as tight as Taehyung hugged you. Taehyung was in a bliss, you had never been like this.

“Y/n,” he breathed. He loved how you smell, you had that natural scent that he loves and has ever plagued his mind ever since. He took advantage of the moment and dive his nose deeper in your tresses. His lips ghosting around your neck. He was still debating.

Would you be mad? If his lips touched your neck. He wanted to test it.

He sniffles a little, as if he was crying and moved his head closer so that his lips are now fully touching your neck. He loved how your skin was warm, he took notes of how you flinch but then relax once you took on his crying and you even pat his back.

Oh, you are so perfect.

“I love you,” he said muffled in your neck.

“What?” You asked him, because you didn’t hear him.

“I’m sad,” Taehyung said now finally letting go of your skin, but his hands now settled on your waist. He took on your expression. You have a frown, a pout, but how he love your eyes…

It was a full blown concern, maybe you love him back. It was a possibility, Taehyung thought to himself looking at your expression now.

“I know, Tae. I’m sorry to hear that. I’m here if you need me.”

“I do.” Taehyung said in a heartbeat. “I do need you.” He said again.

“Okay, what do you need me for?”

“Please be by my side,” Taehyung said without even thinking about it. The atmosphere made it so easy for him to say what has been on his mind this entire time, the only plea his heart resonates these days.

He waited with bated breath for your answer.

“Okay,” you said meekly. But that was enough for him as he further tightened the hug.

It has been a week since you attended Taehyung’s father’s funeral. You have been taking care of him more, paying attention to the little frown and blank stare. You wanted to be there for your friend and you really hate seeing him sad, but it was understandable why he was sad.

“Do you need anything?”

Taehyung only pouted and shook his head. “Only need you here,” he said and proceeded to hug you. Burying his face on your hair, you knew what he wanted to do by now. He had already make a habit of hugging you. Each day longer than the day before.

“Tell me if you need anything else,” you murmured.

Taehyung froze hearing your sentence. In his brain he was trying to come up on what your tone indicated and what that sentence even mean? Were you not happy to be right besides him like this?

Much to his reluctance, he had to break the hug off to look at your face. To really look at it and maybe understand you more.

Taehyung was met with sad eyes staring into him, those beautiful lashes adoring the two pool of eyes that held concern for him. And only for him. I love you, he wanted to say at that moment.

But instead he smiled and caressed your cheek with his thumb. “Thank you.”

“Oh wait actually! I want to go on a vacation with you.”

[strnsvt]

moon junhui — unspoken feelings and misplaced priorities.

you sat at a quiet corner in the university library, tapping your pen against your open diary. the hushed atmosphere usually brought you solace.

you scribbled down a few more thoughts before closing the diary with a sigh. standing up, you stretched and gathered your belongings, slipping the diary under your arm.

as you walked out, your thoughts were still on the pages you had just written. lost in your musings, you didn't notice when the diary slipped from under your arm and fell to the floor. you continued walking, completely unaware.

a few minutes later, as you approached the campus café, a sudden panic gripped you. you patted your bag and realized the diary wasn't there. your heart raced as you turned on your heel and rushed back to the library, hoping it was still where you left it.

bursting through the library doors, you scanned the area where you had been sitting, but the diary was nowhere to be found. you retraced your steps, searching frantically under tables and chairs.

your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you pulled it out to see a call from your friend.

"hey, where are you? class is about to start," mina says.

"i need a second," you replied, your voice tense.

hanging up, you hurried to the librarian's desk. "excuse me, did anyone turn in a diary? i think i lost it here."

the librarian shook her head. "i'm sorry, i haven't seen anything like that."

you felt a wave of despair wash over you. "thank you," you murmured, turning away. your mind raced with thoughts of who could have found it and what they might do with the information inside.

you decided to check your locker, just in case. fumbling with the combination lock, you finally swung it open. as you leaned in to peer inside, the locker door suddenly slammed shut, making you flinch.

"you," you muttered, your voice tinged with annoyance and suspicion.

you see junhui standing there, looking somewhat amused. he held your diary in his hand, the cover slightly worn from his handling.

your heart sank as you realized he had taken your diary intentionally. "give it back, junhui," you demanded, holding out your hand.

he tilted his head, studying you with mild interest. "you write quite passionately about minghao," he remarked casually.

your cheeks flushed with embarrassment and anger. "that's none of your business," you snapped, trying to hide your unease.

"true," he agreed, his tone nonchalant. "but now it is, isn't it?"

you clenched your fists, feeling a surge of frustration. "just give it back," you insisted, your voice trembling slightly.

he held the diary just out of your reach, his fingers casually flipping through the pages. "you know," he started, his tone just nonchalant, "i didn't realize you had such a soft spot for art club's resident heartthrob."

your face burned with a mix of embarrassment and frustration. "give it back, junhui," you repeated through, your hand still outstretched.

he ignored your demand, his eyes scanning the pages with interest. "it's fascinating, really," he mused, his smirk growing more pronounced. "all these hidden desires and secret crushes."

"stop reading it!" you snapped, feeling exposed and vulnerable.

he finally looked up at you, amusement dancing in his eyes. "make me," he challenged, dangling the diary just a bit closer.

you were torn between wanting to snatch it from him and not giving him the satisfaction. "this isn't a joke, junhui," you warned, your voice wavering.

his smile softened slightly, a hint of something more serious flickering in his expression. "i know," he admitted, his teasing tone fading. "but maybe it's time you and i had a little chat about secrets."

"huh?" you stammered, caught off guard by junhui's unexpected proposition.

"set me up with your best friend," junhui continued, his expression serious now. "and i'll set you up with mine."

you blinked, processing his offer. the idea of cooperating with someone you considered your enemy was daunting, but the thought of getting your diary back and preventing junhui from revealing its contents was even more compelling.

"you expect me to trust you?" you countered, skepticism evident in your voice.

"i expect you to consider your options," junhui replied calmly, his gaze unwavering. "or we can both walk away empty-handed. except that the diary stays with me,"

your mind raced with possibilities. could you really trust junhui, even temporarily, with something as personal as setting up your best friend? and what would he expect in return? but deep down, you knew that without your diary, your secrets could potentially be used against you.

"fine," you finally relented, your voice tight with resignation. "but if you do anything to betray this deal—"

"i won't," junhui assured, cutting off your threat with a mocking smile.

just when you were about to say something else, you get a call from your friend. your best friend. his crush.

you took a deep breath as you answered her call. "hey, mina," you greeted her, trying to sound calm despite the tension.

"where are you?"

you hesitated for a moment, glancing at junhui, who was still holding your diary. "i-i'll be there in a moment—"

"don't worry about it, the lecture got cancelled," she chirpped, "so, where are you now?"

"i'm just outside the library," you said, casting a sidelong glance at junhui. "why don't we meet at the café instead?"

"sure, see you there!" mina agreed, her tone brightening. she hung up, and you let out a sigh of relief mixed with apprehension.

turning to junhui, you spoke quietly, "meet her at the café in fifteen minutes. don't be late."

you found yourself making your way towards junhui the next day, determined to hold him to his end of the bargain. he owed you a favor now, and you intended to collect.

spotting him near the university courtyard, you approached with purpose. junhui glanced up from his phone, a faint smile playing on his lips as he noticed your approach.

"you owe me," you stated firmly, stopping in front of him.

junhui raised an eyebrow, pretending to consider your demand. "oh, do i now?" he replied casually.

"yes," you insisted, crossing your arms. "you promised to set me up with minghao and return my diary."

junhui leaned against a nearby tree, his expression thoughtful. "setting you up with minghao shouldn't be a problem," he mused. "but as for your diary..."

you narrowed your eyes at him. "junhui," you warned, the frustration bubbling up again.

he held up a hand, a small, teasing smile playing on his lips. "relax, i haven't forgotten," he assured you. "consider it insurance that you'll hold up your end of the deal."

you gritted your teeth, torn between wanting to grab the diary from him and maintaining some semblance of control. "fine," you reluctantly agreed, knowing you had little choice at the moment. "but make sure you set everything up with minghao. no games."

junhui nodded, his gaze serious now. "deal," he agreed, pocketing your diary with a satisfied expression.

as he turned to walk away, you called after him. "junhui," you called, stopping him in his tracks.

he glanced back at you, raising an eyebrow in question.

"you better not mess this up," you warned, your voice firm.

he grinned back at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "trust me," he replied cryptically before disappearing into the crowd.

watching him go, you couldn't shake the feeling that you had just made a deal with the devil. but with your diary in junhui's hands, you had to play his game—for now...

junhui caught sight of you on the staircase, ready to tease you as usual. but as he approached, he noticed you sniffling, your shoulders trembling slightly. his expression softened, and he sat down beside you.

"hey," he said gently, his usual teasing tone absent. "what's wrong?"

you wiped at your eyes, trying to steady your voice, "am i not pretty?"

"what?" he questions, his was a mixture of confusion and gentleness.

"minghao..."

"what about him?"

"minghao likes mina," and more tears stream down your face.

junhui's eyes widened slightly as he took in your words. "i didn't know that," he replied, his voice careful.

"and she's so...beautiful," you continued, your voice laced with a mix of admiration but also envy "i love her, but...i just...i don't know. and now, knowing that both minghao and you...like her—it's just more evidence."

junhui listened quietly, his arm sliding comfortingly around your shoulders. "hey," he murmured, "it doesn't mean you're any less."

you glanced up at him, surprised by his reassuring words. "what do you mean?"

he smiled gently. "you're not bad yourself, you know," he said softly. "in fact, you're pretty cute. even when you cry."

your cheeks flushed at his unexpected compliment, and despite everything, you couldn't help but feel a flicker of warmth in your heart. junhui's presence, once so aggravating, now offered a strange comfort.

"thanks," you managed to say, as you wiped away the last of your tears.

junhui chuckled softly, squeezing your shoulder lightly. "anytime," he replied, his teasing tone replaced with genuine warmth, "hey, wanna bunk classes?"

you found yourself in a troubling routine, spending more time bunking classes with junhui than attending them.

days blurred together as you laughed and explored the campus, pushing thoughts of responsibility to the back of your mind. but reality hit hard when you received your grades—a stark reminder that you needed to get your act together.

determined to catch up, you headed to the library, hoping to find solace in the quiet study environment. you chose a secluded corner and buried your nose in a textbook, trying to absorb as much information as possible.

not long after, junhui appeared, sliding into the seat next to you. "i was looking for you," he said casually, but you ignored him, focusing on the page in front of you.

unfazed, he reached over and snatched the book from your hands. "hey!" you protested, reaching for it. "give it back."

he studied the cover briefly before handing it back with a smirk. "this stuff is too easy."

"oh, really?" you shot back, raising an eyebrow. "then tell me, what's the answer to this question?" you pointed to a complex problem on the page.

junhui leaned back in his chair, feigning ignorance. "i don't know that one."

not that one, either. no. skip.

you rolled your eyes, frustration building. "c'mon, at least get one right. i'll give you kisses!"

his eyes widened in surprise, and without a word, he snatched the book from your hands again. for the next five minutes, he scanned the pages intently.

"ask me anything," he finally said, a confident glint in his eyes.

you quizzed him on various problems, and to your amazement, he got most of them correct. "impressive," you admitted.

he leaned in closer, his eyes locked onto yours. "grant me my kisses," he demanded with a playful smirk.

reached into your bag and pulled out a small packet of hershey's kisses chocolates. junhui's expression shifted from confident to utterly blank. "wait...you meant the chocolate kisses..."

you couldn't help but burst into laughter at his realization, watching as his cheeks turned a faint shade of pink. "what did you think i meant?" you teased, handing him a chocolate.

junhui grumbled under his breath, unwrapping the candy. "you tricked me," he muttered, but a small smile tugged at his lips.

you glanced around to make sure no one was watching. then, without warning, you leaned in and placed a quick kiss on junhui's cheek before darting away.

he stood there, momentarily stunned, before a slow grin spread across his face. "i'll get you back for that," he called after you, his voice filled with playful promise.

you and junhui walked side by side in the hallway, the comfortable silence between you both a welcome change. but as you stopped abruptly, junhui furrowed his brow in confusion and followed your gaze. there it was—minghao kissing mina.

junhui called your name softly, but you couldn't tear your eyes away from the scene. "y/n," he tried again, more firmly this time. you simply turned on your heel and rushed away, tears threatening to spill.

you bolted to the rooftop, the place where you always found solace. junhui followed closely, calling out your name repeatedly, but you didn't stop. finally, he caught up to you, turning you around to face him. but you kept your eyes downcast, not wanting to meet his gaze.

"why do you care or even know?" you say, still looking at the ground. "minghao—" you started, your voice breaking.

junhui cut you off, his frustration boiling over. "you're so selfish, y/n," he began, his voice filled with a mix of anger and hurt. "do you think you're the only one whose heart got broken today? do you think minghao is the center of the universe?"

you flinched at his harsh words, but he continued, unable to stop the torrent of emotions. "you only ever talk about minghao—minghao this, minghao that. but have you ever stopped to think about how i feel? have you ever cared about me, even a little?"

the rain started to pour down, soaking you both. junhui's voice softened, but the pain was still evident. "i've been right here, y/n. all this time, i've been here. but you never noticed."

you stood there, drenched and speechless, his words cutting deeper than you expected. junhui turned to leave, but when he saw you still standing in the rain, unmoving, he sighed deeply.

"c'mon, y/n," he urged, but you didn't move. he took off his jacket and draped it around your shoulders, his touch gentle. holding you close, he tried to shield you from the rain as much as possible. "we need to get inside."

you looked up at him, his face a mixture of concern and frustration. the warmth of his jacket and his arms around you brought a sense of comfort you hadn't felt in a long time. slowly, you nodded, allowing him to lead you back inside.

the next morning, get up from your bed, wishing a good morning to mina. you sneeze, making mina laugh, you chuckle as well.

you opened the door to find a book laying on the ground. it was yours. it was your diary lying on the ground. you picked it up, noticing a note that had fallen out. 'sorry' was scrawled on it in junhui’s handwriting.

you took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of relief and trepidation. still in your pajamas, you headed straight to junhui's room.

you knocked firmly on the door. when it opened, you were met by minghao, who looked surprised to see you.

"hey y/n—" he began, but you didn’t let him finish. you pushed past him, rushing into the room.

junhui was just getting up from his side of the bed, his expression shifting from groggy to alarmed as he saw you enter.

not giving him a chance to speak, you jump on him, making him fall back on the bed with you on top of him. a tear rolls down your cheek as you apologize again and again. not sure what about.

to which junhui flips you over and smashes his lips onto yours.

“junhui,” you whispered against his lips, your voice trembling. “i’m sorry... i never meant to push you away. i was just so caught up in my own feelings that i didn’t see what was right in front of me.”

minghao, still standing at the door, looked between the two of you with a mixture of surprise and understanding. he took a step back, giving you both space, and quietly closed the door.

"i know this doesn’t fix everything,” jun said, his voice steady. “but maybe we can start over, yeah?"

you nodded, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “i’d like that,” you replied, squeezing his hand. “i’d like that a lot.”

junhui gave you a small, relieved smile. you mimicking his emotion now etched on your face as both of you knew that a new start was needed.

[https-lawrenceslittleone]

Caregiver Katsuki Bakugo Headcanons

A/N: Hey!!! This is my first like. Writing related post. In a WHILE. Sorry about that!! But please feel free to request anything, I’m kinda bored. :P

Warnings: Minor swearing but I think that’s it ???

Bakugo is very aggressive. We all know this. Pretty much all the time, he’s aggressive and seemingly angry. And this does not waver or change, even when you’re regressed. So if you’re super sensitive, he probably wouldn’t be the best for you.

However, that’s not to say he doesn’t care. Quite the opposite, actually. He would die for you and actively goes out of his way to protect you.

Oh, he would get SO mad if anyone ever said anything remotely negative to you about your age regression. He wouldn’t even try to reason with them or have a debate he would straight up just tell them to kys 💀 (me core)

He does better with toddler or kid regressors, but baby regressors are fine as long as they can tolerate his naturally rough and callous behavior.

He did not know what the hell age regression was before he met you. Honestly, I feel like he’d come off as judgey at first. He doesn’t mean to, it’s just how he is. But then he’d go and research it a bit and realize that it’s not anything weird or fetishy and is instead a healthy coping mechanism.

He’s a little hesitant to be your caregiver at first. He says it’s because he isn’t sure if he wants to focus on anything other than training right now and being a caregiver is a lot of responsibility. That’s partially true. But it’s mainly really because he’s afraid he won’t be good at it and will just end up hurting you and potentially ruining one of your only healthy coping mechanisms.

It takes a lot for him to be able to open up to someone and take care of someone like that, but eventually, he does it. And he finds he enjoys it. He finds your little antics and your dependency on him really adorable.

He’s not embarrassed or ashamed that you age regress. I feel like nearly half of class 1-A regresses so it’s not unusual at all for you two to be in the common room, you sitting on his lap with a sippy cup in hand.

Sets you up on play dates with Kaminari and Mina all the time. He wants you to have fun and interact with other littles. Plus, they’re his friends and their caregivers are his friends too.

Takes a little bit to get used to nicknames as well. But finds he likes parental nicknames a lot more than he thought he would.

The first time you called him dada was something he will never forget. You were half asleep, snuggling in his chest, when you realized you were thirsty. You lazily grabbed his shirt and gently tugged on it and went, “Dada…juice…?”. He immediately knew what you wanted and he gave you the juice. He didn’t even register the nickname until a few seconds later and was really shocked. He didn’t say anything about it in the moment, though. He talked to you about it when you were big again and he clarified that he was okay with it and it didn’t make him uncomfortable.

Midoriya and Kirishima are his go-to babysitters. Mainly Midoriya because he’s more responsible than Kirishima. But Midoriya can get busy quite a lot. And Bakugo’s also a little anxious about you possibly liking Midoriya more than him, although he would rather die than admit that out loud lol.

He can cook. This is canon. This mf can cook like a 1950s housewife it is INSANE. He makes all your food for you, especially when you’re little. He likes taking care of you, even if he won’t really say it.

If you’re like me, and you tend to have really bad rage episodes and outbursts when you’re overstimulated or upset, he’s got you. He knows how to deal with that. He’s got a punching bag in his room that he lets you beat the shit out of if needed. He can make you laugh too. You’ll be beating the fuck out the punching bag and he’ll pretend like it’s a real person and say shit like “YEAH‼️‼️‼️ BEAT HIS ASS‼️‼️‼️🗣️🗣️🗣️” and it makes you giggle.

Surprisingly okay with physical affection. You wanna cling to him? That’s fine. Just listen to him if he tells you to get off of him. Respect his boundaries and don’t get in the way when he’s doing something important and it’s cool. 🙏

[ofrolysdogs]

jax boyfriend headcanons

me when i make a headcanon post every blue moon... anyways, i watched the amazing digital circus and its safe to say... i love me some jax lol, also, i usually do nsfw headcanons as well however i decided to keep this sfw until i get some inspo on what to do with him spicy wise ;)

now this won't be as detailed as my feitan one (if you like hxh and especially if you're a feitan enthusiast then you definitely might want to check this out!) also, if you're looking forward to comissioning me to write (or draw) anything, dm me for now (i'll link my prices here when i get the chance)

warnings: tadc spoilers obviously but overall none so far??? jax just being jax and a bit of angst at the end, abstracting and all, you knew it was coming.

---------------------------------------------------------------

how you first met

well for starters, jax will treat you just like he does everyone else, he's kind of an asshole and you may not like him at first, his cheeky and sometimes insulting remarks kind of either catch you off guard or rub you the wrong way, you get used to this behavior when the two of you confirm the relationship.

realizing he likes you

he is very conflicted with his feeling about this, he can't lie, the more he hangs around you, gets used to your personality, he doesn't know exactly what to do, he hasn't really felt any romantic attraction towards anyone since he came in from the real world, but something about you caught his attention, the others point out how weird he acts when they mention you, or better yet, when you're around, he's less... well, himself! after some time he kind of treats you a bit different from everyone else, he doesn't realize it but everyone spots it big time! he isn't as rude with you as he is towards everyone else, he might even give you a cheesy little nickname depending on what you are or what you look like (if you're shorter than him he might just call you shorty or tiny, if you're taller he'll probably call you skyscraper or giant.)

eventually, he confesses...

on a very special day, jax had eventually gotten tired of hiding his feelings, he had truly came to the realization that he liked you, like, a lot, one day he would go on to find you, and pull you to the side, and tell you... vaguely, that he liked you, you weren't exactly getting the hint, until he spat it out: "i think you're cute, and i want you to be my (partner), alright!?"

he was surprised that you said yes, knowing at first, you weren't exactly a fan of him, you said yes, you wanted to go out with him.. he didn't show how flabbergasted he was, always with his cool, composed expression, that smile and all. "a deals a deal."

you're his lover... now what?

so, pretty much everyone knows that the two of you are a thing, and he confident enough to make it clear that he loves you, enough time has passed for him to tell you that he loves and adores you, very much so.

----------------------------------------------------------

miscellaneous things

jealousy

when it comes to him being jealous, or more accurately; territorial, he'll get quiet, scarily quiet, his face is blank as he watches the person flirt with you, when you're not around, or on that day he feels particularly playful, he'll pick on them, and not in the usual way, straight up insults masked as a joke, don't forget, he also holds grudges, sometimes..

you abstracting

that day came, one of his biggest fears came true, you abstracted, he stared in disbelief as he watched, you looked at him with those eyes, you were not the same, and it was hard to come to terms with that, when cane puts you in the cellar, he can't help but shed tears, he doesn't wail (he saves that for later when he's alone) but it's something new for the others to experience.

[guitarstringed-scars]

how to lose a guy in 10 days- t. oikawa

masterlist

day ten

toru has only left his room 3 times in the last 2 days. only leaving when he needs to eat, or is forced out by his roommates. a knock on his door interrupts him from his moping.

“what?” he calls out, face buried into his bed.

“i think you should read this.” atsumus voice calls from the otherside of the door.

toru pulls himself out of bed, pillows falling to the floor around him. he slowly opens the door, peeking his head out.

“read what?” he asks, rubbing his eyes as he stares at atsumu standing in front of him.

“it’s the article y/n wrote.” atsumu answers, looking down at the newspaper in his hands.

“no.” toru slams the door shut, heading back into his bed.

“When I started to write this months column, I wanted to help out a friend of mine. I wanted to run an experiment to show what not to do in dating. What I didn’t realize, was that I was making a huge mistake.” atsumu starts reading the article.

toru freezes, slowly turning back around to the door and reopening it. he tears the paper from atsumus hands, and quickly reads the rest of the article.

I ended up losing the only guy i’ve ever actually had feelings for.

your writing repeats in his head as he rushes about the apartment, looking for a pair of shoes and socks. he quickly pulls them on.

“dude, where are you going?” atsumu questions.

“i gotta talk to her, obviously.”

with that, toru is rushing out of the apartment, he doesn’t know where exactly he’s rushing, but he is. he’s running across campus, as fast as he possibly can. he knows that you are probably handing out papers somewhere, he just has to narrow down where.

he races to the square on campus, searching for a table full of papers, and he finally finds it. you aren’t there. instead, he’s greeted by kiyoko, yachi, and tetsuro. he puts his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

“she’s on her way back to her apartment.” yachi says, not even letting him get a word in.

toru nods, takes a breath, and then starts running again.

he catches you about 4 minutes of running later. you are strolling calmly as toru rushes up to you.

“toru?” you say, startled from the tall man running up to you.

“y/n.” he catches his breath. “i read your article.”

“oh.” you stop.

“is it true?” he holds up the paper.

“toru, i-”

“is this true? or are you just trying to get more reads?”

you think for a moment. ”i meant every word.”

“okay. i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have done that bet.”

“i’m sorry.” you say.

now the two of you are at a standstill, neither of you really know what to say.

“during the bet, i decided halfway through that i had real feelings for you.” he finally speaks up.

“okay. i believe you. do you believe me?” you ask.

“yeah.” he smiles, laughing a bit. “i really do.”

“can we…start over?” you ask, a smile growing on your face as well.

“yeah. i’d really like that.”

a/n: the end womp womp! rip how to lose a guy in 10 days i had fun!!!! there will prob be extras

taglist: @hotvillianapologist @asapeveryday @zzzlevislothzzz @vivian-555 @theepitomeofswag

@girlkissersco @yuminako @cloooudmilk @r0seandth0rns @ilyless

@sereniteav @iluvmang @wyrcan @azharyy @kunihaver

@cherrypieyourface @walllflowerrrsss @mylahrins @ryuverse @nana7nana777

@cyenac @garfieldissocool @chris-continues @acowboykisser @iheartpinky

@idkanymorebuthere @dailyakira @neru-is-restless @wave2mia @v-e-r-t21

[shitsndgiggs]

Hello Kaya,

Would you write a story with a protective boyfriend Arda?

You're the best ❣

GUARDIAN ANGEL - ARDA GÜLER

In which you are really clumsy

Arda Güler x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The warm sun filtered through the windows as I hurriedly tied my shoes, already late for our planned outing.

Arda leaned against the doorway, watching me with a familiar mix of amusement and concern.

"You ready?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with affection.

"Almost," I replied, grabbing my bag. "Sorry, I took longer than expected."

"No rush," he said, pushing off the doorframe and walking over to me. "I just want to make sure you don't trip over those untied shoelaces again."

I looked down, realizing he was right. With a sheepish grin, I quickly fixed them. "Thanks, Arda. What would I do without you?"

He chuckled and took my hand. "Probably have a lot more bruises."

As I stepped into the bustling streets of Istanbul, I couldn't help but marvel at the beautiful chaos around me.

The vibrant colors, the aromatic scents from nearby food stalls, and the constant hum of the city filled me with excitement.

However, I was well aware of my tendency to trip over my own feet, and Arda was even more aware of it.

"Be careful, aşkım," Arda warned, his voice tinged with both affection and concern as he took my hand, weaving us through the crowded street.

I smiled up at him, appreciating his protective nature. "I'm always careful," I said, though we both knew that wasn't entirely true.

We walked toward the Grand Bazaar, a place I'd been eager to explore. The narrow aisles were packed with people, and I felt a rush of excitement as I took in the sights and sounds.

Arda's grip on my hand tightened as we maneuvered through the throngs of shoppers.

"Look at these!" I exclaimed, stopping abruptly to examine a set of intricately designed lanterns. In my enthusiasm, I didn't notice the small step in front of me, and as I stepped forward, I stumbled.

Arda's reflexes were quick, and he caught me before I could fall. "I told you to be careful," he said, a mixture of exasperation and amusement in his voice.

I laughed it off, feeling a bit embarrassed. "I know, I know. Thank you, my hero."

He smiled and kissed the top of my head. "Just trying to keep you in one piece."

As we continued our exploration, I couldn't help but notice how Arda constantly kept an eye on me, ensuring I didn't walk into any more hazards.

His protectiveness was endearing, and I felt a warm glow in my chest, knowing how much he cared for me.

Later, we stopped at a café for some tea and baklava. As we sat down, I managed to knock my fork off the table.

Bending down to pick it up, I hit my head on the edge of the table as I straightened up.

"Ouch," I winced, rubbing my head.

Arda was immediately by my side, examining the bump with a worried expression. "Are you okay? Let me see."

I nodded, feeling a bit foolish. "I'm fine, just a little bump."

He gently brushed his fingers over the spot, his concern evident. "You need to be more careful. You're going to give me a heart attack one of these days."

I chuckled, leaning into his touch. "I'll try my best. But it's a good thing I have you to look out for me."

Arda sighed, though he couldn't hide the smile tugging at his lips. "Yes, and it's a job I take very seriously."

After finishing our tea, we decided to head to the park. The lush greenery and serene atmosphere were a welcome change from the bustling streets.

As we strolled along the winding paths, I found myself getting lost in the beauty of the place.

Unfortunately, this also meant I wasn't paying attention to where I was walking.

"Watch out!" Arda called out just in time as I nearly walked into a low-hanging branch.

I stopped short, blinking in surprise. "Wow, that was close. Thanks."

He shook his head, laughing softly. "I think I'm going to need to get you a helmet."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "Very funny. But I suppose it wouldn't hurt."

We found a bench and sat down to enjoy the view. I leaned against Arda, feeling his arm wrap around me protectively.

"You know," he began, his voice soft, "I wouldn't change a thing about you. Clumsiness and all."

I looked up at him, touched by his words. "Really?"

"Really," he affirmed. "It keeps things interesting, and it gives me an excuse to stay close to you."

I smiled, feeling a surge of love for him. "I'm lucky to have you."

He kissed my forehead gently. "No, I'm the lucky one."

[cozage]

Hi cozage,

Congrats for 2k!!!🤧💖

SO, I was thinking about how Sabo would confess his feelings for his beloved one, or like, SHE would confess first? Being so oblivious and occupied with work like he is, maybe isn't crazy imagine that happening 👀✨

I loved the silent treatment one with him lol, I don't see a lot of imagines with him, I miss it rsrsrs

Thanks for lighting up my day with your stories 💖

Thank you! Writing Sabo is always fun, I enjoyed this one a lot :)

Characters: gn reader x Sabo Total word count: 1k

Subtle Realization

You knew you liked Sabo. You found him attractive from the moment you met him. But the second in command of the revolutionary army wasn’t as obvious with his feelings towards you. 

You worked closely with him for weeks, a constant battle between hot and cold emotions from him. Sometimes, he asked about your day, your likes and dislikes, and many other things. Other days, he only barked out orders. It was confusing, to say the least. But there were a few moments that made you realize he was actually paying attention. 

One morning, you were running late to a meeting, and you fully expected everyone to be pissed at you. You didn’t even have time to stop at your favorite bagel shop and grab breakfast. 

But when you slipped into the meeting beside Sabo, he handed you a bagel with cream cheese and your favorite tea. 

“How’d you know?” you whispered. 

“I always see you there.” He shrugged. “Figured I’d just get your order for you since you weren't there this morning. That’s what friends do.”

Friends. That pesky word that he loved so much. He may have done one of the kindest things he had ever done for you- for anyone- but you were still just friends. 

It was only a few days later when he asked you to dinner. 

“We’re both working late, and you’ve been working so hard, I just thought it would be nice to go somewhere and talk away from work.”

“Sure.” Your voice was monotone, but your heartbeat quickened at the thought of the two of you at dinner. Alone. 

It was a nice restaurant, far fancier than what you had dressed for, but Sabo complimented how lovely you looked, and the two of you had a fabulous time. 

He learned about your past, and you learned about his-what he could remember of it, at least. He paid for dinner and even walked you back to your little cramped living space, like a true gentleman. 

“Thank you for the meal,” you said. “Would you like to come in for a bit? It’s not much, but-”

“Oh no,” Sabo said quickly. “Dinner was lovely. We should do it again sometime.”

Were you reading too much into his words? Or was he trying to insinuate that he was feeling something more?

You smiled, trying not to let too much excitement show. “I’d like that quite a lot.”

“As would I.” He tipped his hat to you. “Since we’re coworkers, I think it’s important we get to know each other as much as possible.”

Coworkers. Somehow, it was worse than friends. You tried not to let your disappointment show, but once you slipped into your room, you couldn’t help but burst into tears. 

A few weeks later, you were grumbling about your roommate. The set up was atrocious, and while you weren’t much of a complainer, your roommate and living space were both worthy of complaining about. 

“Why don’t you just move in with me?” Sabo asked, not even bothering to look up from his writing. 

You stared at him for a few moments. Surely you had heard him wrong. “What?”

“Move in with me,” he said again. “You already stay here well past midnight. Sometimes you even crash on the couch. I have a spare room. You should move in.”

You scoffed. “I can’t just move in, Sabo. Its-”

“Why not?” he asked, finally looking up at you. “It wouldn’t be much different than now. Nothing would change except where you call home.”

Home. With Sabo. Surely you were setting yourself up for heartbreak here. But you agreed.

 Three days later, you moved in with him. And while you still referred to each other as coworkers or friends, you also went home together. You cooked dinner together. You shared a bathroom, and worked in the study together. 

You never had a break from him, but you didn’t mind. In fact, on your off days, the two of you often went and did something together. You read books together and talked about them over dinner. You went on walks, and trained, and only when you said goodnight did the two of you go your separate ways. Sabo to the room on the left, and you to the room on the right. 

It was awkward at first, but you quickly found a way to cohabitate. Cooking and cleaning was infinitely more fun with Sabo by your side, and he laughed a lot more in your presence. 

Ten months after you first met him, he finally came to the realization. 

You were sitting at dinner, just the two of you. You had made pasta, and you had managed to get some sauce on your face while the two of you were eating. 

Without thinking, Sabo leaned over and gently wiped it from your chin, and suddenly the entire world simultaneously flipped on its head and made so much sense. 

“Oh,” Sabo whispered, still staring at the place where the sauce had been. “I think I could do this forever with you.”

Your heart was beating so loud in your chest, you were certain he could hear it. 

“What do you mean?” you whispered, scared to be hopeful. 

His eyes darted up to yours. “I think I love you. And I don’t ever want to lose you.”

“Sabo-” you breathed out, but he lunged across the table, connecting his lips with yours. 

He pulled away far too soon, afraid he had ruined one of the only friendships he actually cared about. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I know you might not feel the same way. I just realized and had to tell you.”

Part of you was certain this was a dream. But if it was, you never wanted to wake up. 

“I feel the same,” you assured him. “I just wasn’t sure if you would ever…” You trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence.

He gave you a slightly devious smile, leaning back across the table to give you another kiss. “Well I do. And we have a lot of lost time to make up for.”

For the first time since you moved in, the two of you didn’t go separate ways for bed.

[pleasantlyinsincere]

BRAVO September 1967 Shortly before his death Brian Epstein admitted to BRAVO-employee Thomas Beyl: The boys are everything to me

His face was white. His grey suit seemed to be too big. His shirt collar was opened widely, the black tie hanging crookedly of his neck. Brian Epstein had met death. He came from his father's funeral. That hot July day I met Brian Epstein for the last time. Six weeks later he was dead. As I was taking the list up to Brian's private office, I was desperately thinking about what to say to him. I knew Brian had been very attached to his father. I knew this loss must have rattled him deeply. There rarely had been a conversation with him, where he didn't mention his 'Daddy'. I didn't feel comfortable in my skin. Even though Brian had promised me once: "Whenever you come to London, come and see me. I'll always have time for you." It had always been like that. But now?

[...] Brian met me at the door. "Hello, Thomas! Do you want something to drink?" That afternoon I met a completely different Brian Epstein. I was startled when I saw him. He seemed broken and like he had aged years. He stood up from his office chair laboriously. He reached his hand out towards me. It was limp, his handshake without strength. "nice to see you, Thomas", he said. "Have you seen the boys? Have they come back relaxed from Greece?" He tried to act as natural and friendly as usual but he was a bad actor. Brian was quiet for a while, then he said: "I know why you came. Nice of you. But let's not talk about it. Please." On Brian's desk stood bottle of whiskey, next to it a glass. It was empty. Absent-mindedly he puffed on his cigarette and regularly his gaze would drift towards a big painting of his father on the wall. I felt out of place and was about to say goodbye when Brian said: "Stay for another moment. I want to tell you about a dream that finally seems to be about to come true. I'm planning a movie with the bullfighter El Cordobes, the dancer Nurejew and the boys. Cardobes and Nurejew have already accepted. I just have to convince the boys of my plan." The big dream was buried with Brian Epstein on 30 August 1967 on the jewish graveyard of Fazackerley, a suburb of Liverpool. Like so many great dreams of Brian Epstein, who had wanted to become an actor - and never became one; who wanted to write plays - and never wrote one; who bought a theater - and never staged one; who loved Mozart and Beethoven - and became manager of a beat group; who looked like a successful stock broker - and was at home on the stage of the pop world.

It was 26 June 1966. BRAVO-Beatles-Blitztournee. 7000 fans are screaming their throats hoarse inside Hamburg's Ernst-Merck-Halle. They are waiting for 'their' Beatles, who had come back to the place their careers had started after four years. It's just minutes before the 'returnees'' concert. A security guard addresses me: "Are you Thomas Beryl? You have to please come outside. There is a young guy in front of the main door, who has been trying to come in for half an hour even though he has no ticket. He claims he is the Beatles famous manager Brian Epstein. He thinks we're stupid." I rip the dressing room door open, calling to the Beatles: "Wait a moment. They aren't letting Brian in." The Beatles double over with laughter. "Once again", chuckles Ringo. John shouts after me: "Tell him he should get a belly befitting of his status, so that people recognize him as a manager!" The 'young guy' was indeed Brian Epstein. During the concert he said to me: "Look at the boys. I have never seen them this happy on stage. It has to be an amazing feeling to return to where you once have started small. That's when you really realize that you've made it. Frankly - I am a bit jealous because I wasn't with the Beatles during their first Hamburg stays." He watched his boys beaming faces - and beamed along with them.

No, Brian Epstein wasn't a typical manager. He preferred to wear suits in muted colors and subtle ties. His luxurious London apartment proved his exquisite taste. Brian loved antiques and chose with great care and knowledge. His appearance was quiet. For a manager he was modest and shy. Brian kept in the background so much, that sometimes the Beatles didn't even realize when he was missing. But still Eppy - as the boys called him - belonged to them as five fingers do on a hand. And Eppy was the thumb. Brian didn't like to hear such words. "No, no", he denied. "I am not the fifth Beatles but the Beatles' number one fan." Similarly he fended off the claim that the Beatles had him to thank for fairy tale career. "The boys would have made it without me", he told me. "At least I have just as much to thank them for as they do me. I'm known as a successful manager and have a big enterprise. But I was only able to do that because four electric boys became my friends."

The boys have a different opinion. John: "Without Brian we would have gotten out of our greasy leather jackets too late and the Queen would have never invited us to her palace. No one but Eppy was ready to help guys like us financially. Without him we would have been stuck in basement pubs. When he proposed to become our manager, we thought he had a screw loose. That's how little we believed in ourselves." George: "It was our luck that the Epstein family shop was so close to the Cavern, else Brian might not have found us. Then it would have been good night, Beatles!" Ringo: "I owe everything to him. Without Eppy I would never have become a Beatle. He was the one who acquired me." Paul: "Without Eppy the Beatles wouldn't exist anymore. There was a lot of truth to the rumors that we were breaking up. We had a few crises within the group. So heavily that we were about to go our separate ways. It was Eppy who repaired the cracks. He was our friend and we trusted him endlessly." The Beatles trustee is dead. His short, hot life ended 27 August 1967. John, Paul, George and Ringo didn't attend his funeral. They respected his biggest wish even after Brian Epstein was dead: He never wanted to be the center of their performance.